Suddenly we went off into fits of laughter. We could not stop ourselves.
Now Jeanne has gone hunting for workmen. We will make them work by the piece, otherwise they will never finish the job. I had some experience this autumn with the youth who was paid by the day to chop wood for us.
When the hut is built I will bathe every day in the sunshine.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
They are both master-carpenters, and seem to be very good friends. Jeanne and I lie in the boat and watch them, and stimulate them with beer from time to time. But it does not seem to have much effect. One has a wife and twelve children who are starving. When they have starved for a while, they take to begging. The man sings like a lark. He has spent two years in America, but he assures me it is "all tommy-rot" the way they work like steam-engines there. Consequently he soon returned to his native land.
"Denmark," he says, "is such a nice little country, and all this water and the forests make it so pretty...."
Jeanne and I laugh at all this and amuse ourselves royally.
The day before yesterday neither of the men appeared. A child had died on the island, and one of them, who is also a coffin-maker, had to supply a coffin. This seemed a reasonable excuse. But when I inquired whether the coffin was finished, he replied:
"I bought one ready-made in the town ... saved me a lot of bother, that did."
His friend and colleague had been to the town with him to help him in his choice!