After Shem she took breath and looked round. Her hearers sat silent and subdued. None thought of interrupting her.
“The one that came after the three boys was a girl whose name was Sara. And I’d be willing to swear before God and man, that never have I seen any one with such a knack at putting up pickles and making jam and fruit juice. All the same, she didn’t get married; she went to Stockholm and kept house for her brother the Court Chaplain.
“The next was also a girl, and Rebecca was her name. I must say that she was the one who understood me the least. She had such a good head for learning she could have been a priest like her brothers. And the way she could make up poetry was something wonderful! Folks said there was nobody in all Sweden beat her writing cradle songs. Just the same she got married, but ’twas only to a school teacher.”
At that point the jungfru was interrupted by the maid coming in with fresh coffee, and they must all have a second cup.
“I wonder if there was any one in that batch who could make a decent cup of coffee?” Lieutenant Lagerlöf ventured.
“The Lieutenant takes the words out of my mouth!” exclaimed the jungfru. “It may sound queer, but the one who had a real turn for cooking was the fourth boy, Isaac. He was so clever at whipping up a sauce and basting a roast that one could have right good help from him round the stove.”
“He must have excelled, though, at preparing baby-food,” Herr Tyberg observed.
Snickers went up not only from the chimney-corner, but from all parts of the room. Fru Lagerlöf, however, kept a straight face.
“What a wonderful memory Jungfru Anna must have to be able to remember all that!” she said, so as to keep the old girl in good humour.
Ordinarily the jungfru was quick to take offence, but not when she could talk about her dear deanery children. Then she was imperturbable. At all events, Herr Tyberg had helped them away from Isaac. They never learned to what uses he eventually put his talent.