Pelle considered a little. “No,” he said. “Because you’ll never grow up; you’re a dwarf!” The tone of his voice was one of sheer envy.
“That’s what the Sow says too! But then I’ll show myself for money at the fairs and on Midsummer Eve on the common. Then I shall get frightfully rich.”
Pelle was inwardly troubled. Should he give him the whole fifty öres for nothing at all? He had never heard of any one doing such a thing. And perhaps some day, when Rud had become enormously rich, he would get half of it. “Will you have it?” he asked, but regretted it instantly.
Rud stretched out his hand eagerly, but Pelle spat into it. “It can wait until we’ve had our dinner anyhow,” he said, and went over to the basket. For a little while they stood gazing into the empty basket.
“The Sow’s been here,” said Rud, putting out his tongue.
Pelle nodded. “She is a beast!”
“A thief,” said Rud.
They took the sun’s measure. Rud declared that if you could see it when you bent down and looked between your legs, then it was five o’clock. Pelle began to put on his clothes.
Rud was circling about him. “I say!” he said suddenly. “If I may have it, I’ll let you whip me with nettles.”
“On your bare body?” asked Pelle.