Pelle cast a farewell glance over the room. “Is there anything you need?” he asked.
“Thanks—I can look after myself,” she replied proudly.
“You didn’t take the money I sent you on Saturday!”
“I can manage myself—if I can only keep the boy. Don’t forget that you told me once he should always stay with me.”
“He must have a mother who can look him in the face—remember that, Ellen!”
“You needn’t remind me of that,” she replied bitterly.
Lasse was awake when they arrived. “Eh, that’s a genuine Karlsen!” he said. “He takes after our family. Look now, Pelle, boy! He has the same prominent ears, and he’s got the lucky curl on his forehead too! He’ll make his way in the world! I must kiss his little hands—for the hands, they are our blessing—the only possession we come into the world with. They say the world will be lifted up by the hands of poor; I should like to know whether that will be so! I should like to know whether the new times will come soon now. It’s a pity after all that I shan’t live to see it!”
“You may very well be alive to see it yet, father,” said Pelle, who on the way had bought The Working Man, and was now eagerly reading it. “They are going ahead in full force, and in the next few days the fight will be over! Then we’ll both settle down and be jolly together!”
“No, I shan’t live to see that! Death has taken hold of me; he will soon snatch me away. But if there’s anything after it all, it would be fine if I could sit up there and watch your good fortune coming true. You have travelled the difficult way, Pelle—Lasse is not stupid! But perhaps you’ll he rewarded by a good position, if you take over the leadership yourself now. But then you must see that you don’t forget the poor!”
“That’s a long way off yet, father! And then there won’t be any more poor!”