They did not move about much; it contented them to lie there and to delight in the child, when he suddenly sat up and gazed at them in astonishment, as though he had just discovered them. “Now he’s beginning to think!” said Pelle, laughing.
“You take my word for it, he’s hungry.” And little Lasse scrambled straight up to his mother, striking at her breast with his clenched hands, and saying, “Mam, mam!” Pelle and the perambulator had to station themselves in front of her while he was fed.
When they reached home it was evening. If the doormat was displaced it meant that some one had been to call on them; and Ellen was able to tell, from its position, who the visitor had been. Once it stood upright against the wall.
“That’s Uncle Carpenter,” said Pelle quietly. Little Lasse was sleeping on his arm, his head resting on Pelle’s shoulder.
“No, it will have been Cousin Anna,” said Ellen, opening the door. “Thank the Lord we weren’t at home, or we should have had such a business till late in the evening! They never eat anything at home on Sundays, they simply drink a mouthful of coffee and then go round eating their relations out of house and home.”
XVIII
Pelle often thought with concern of the three orphans in the “Ark.” They were learning nothing that would be of use to them in the future, but had all they could do to make a living. The bad times had hit them too, and little Karl in particular; people were stingy with their tips. In these days they were never more than a day ahead of destitution, and the slightest misfortune would have brought them face to face with it. But they let nothing of this be seen—they were only a little quieter and more solemn than usual. He had on several occasions made inquiries as to obtaining help for them, but nothing could be done without immediately tearing them asunder; all those who were in a position to help them cried out against their little household, and separation was the worst that could befall them.
When he went to see them Marie always had plenty to tell and to ask him; he was still her particular confidant, and had to listen to all her household cares and give her his advice. She was growing tall now, and had a fresher look than of old; and Pelle’s presence always filled her eyes with joy and brought the color to her cheeks. Father Lasse she eulogized, in a voice full of emotion, as though he were a little helpless child; but when she asked after Ellen a little malice glittered in her eyes.
One morning, as he sat working at home, while Ellen was out with the child, there was a knock at the door. He went out and opened it. In the little letter-box some one had thrust a number of The Working Man, with an invitation to take the paper regularly. He opened the paper eagerly, as he sat down to his bench again; an extraordinary feeling of distress caused him first of all to run through the “Accidents.”
He started up in his chair; there was a heading concerning a fourteen- year-old boy who worked in a tinplate works and had had the fingers of the right hand cut off. A premonition told him that this misfortune had befallen the little “Family”; he quickly drew on a coat and ran over to the “Ark.”