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Authors: Vilhelm Moberg
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disappearing. He, Aron, would tell his parents they must still hang the cowbell on their boy before they let him leave home.
“You’ve earned a good thrashing, my little hired fellow. But I shall let you off with a small box on the ear.”
And he gave his servant a box on the ear.
Robert was pushed backwards against the wagon wheel, and the world around him shook for half a minute, but he did not fall. The master’s hand could no doubt have hit him much harder, Aron could have given him a real box on the ear. Robert could hear, and he understood: it was only a small box he had received.
And so the farmhand rode back with his master, the whole stretch of road he shouldn’t have taken this morning, the whole road wrongly followed.
And when they arrived at the bridge over the mill brook, where in the morning he had taken the left road, the wagon now followed the right one.
So ended the day when Robert Nilsson tried to take his first steps on the road to America.
III
WHAT THE BEDBUGS IN A STABLE ROOM MUST LISTEN TO
—1—
The farmstead Nybacken had a master and mistress, plus an old mistress on reserved rights, three maids in the maids’ room, and two farmhands in the stable room. Aron’s hired men lived in the barn next to the horses’ stalls. Their room had a deal table, a bench for each of them, two beds filled with straw, and a horse blanket each. In walls and beds lived bedbugs in great numbers, and they increased in undisturbed bliss, filling all holes and cracks.
Arvid, the elder farmhand, was grown, and sturdy and strong of limb, although a light, silky boy-beard still covered his chin. He had a reddish skin and old frostbites on his nose, which bled in cold weather. Aron called him his big hand; Robert was his little hand.
Arvid seemed slow of speech and shy with people, but the very first evening after they had gone to bed on their straw bundles in the stable room Robert began to ask his comrade in service about the master and mistress. What kind of place was Nybacken for a servant?
Before he went to sleep that night Robert had obtained from the elder boy a fair picture of their situation: Aron was hot-tempered, and if he became angry he might give his hands a box on the ear or a kick in the pants. Otherwise he was really a kind, decent soul who would harm no one. The mistress was less considerate: she hit the maids, and her husband as well, and Aron was afraid of her and dared not hit back. Both master and mistress were afraid of the wife’s mother, the old mistress who lived in a “reserved room” in the attic. She was so old she should have been in her grave long ago, if the devil had attended to his business; but apparently he too was afraid of her.
The service was demanding because the master was lazy; the hired men had to do nearly all the chores. The food wasn’t restricted in good years and they could eat as much bread as they wished. During lean years the farmhands and the maids must live on what they could get, here as everywhere else.
It was salt herring at every second meal—but in many places they had to eat herring every meal the year round, except Christmas Eve, and in many places the mistress herself cut the bread and portioned out the slices. So you couldn’t complain about the fare in Nybacken. Of course, it might happen that the bread was mildewed, the herring rancid, the milk blue sour, and the cheese rat-eaten, so they could see the marks of the small teeth. But only once had they found rat-dirt in the flour porridge; Aron himself had picked out the small black pebbles. Arvid had served at other farms where the bread was nearly always mildewed, the herring always rancid, the milk always sour, and neither’ the mistress nor the master had bothered to pick out the rat-dirt from the porridge. So one need not belittle the fare at Nybacken, he said.
So much the “little hand” learned from the big one during the first evening. And every evening thereafter Robert tumbled
“You’ve earned a good thrashing, my little hired fellow. But I shall let you off with a small box on the ear.”
And he gave his servant a box on the ear.
Robert was pushed backwards against the wagon wheel, and the world around him shook for half a minute, but he did not fall. The master’s hand could no doubt have hit him much harder, Aron could have given him a real box on the ear. Robert could hear, and he understood: it was only a small box he had received.
And so the farmhand rode back with his master, the whole stretch of road he shouldn’t have taken this morning, the whole road wrongly followed.
And when they arrived at the bridge over the mill brook, where in the morning he had taken the left road, the wagon now followed the right one.
So ended the day when Robert Nilsson tried to take his first steps on the road to America.
III
WHAT THE BEDBUGS IN A STABLE ROOM MUST LISTEN TO
—1—
The farmstead Nybacken had a master and mistress, plus an old mistress on reserved rights, three maids in the maids’ room, and two farmhands in the stable room. Aron’s hired men lived in the barn next to the horses’ stalls. Their room had a deal table, a bench for each of them, two beds filled with straw, and a horse blanket each. In walls and beds lived bedbugs in great numbers, and they increased in undisturbed bliss, filling all holes and cracks.
Arvid, the elder farmhand, was grown, and sturdy and strong of limb, although a light, silky boy-beard still covered his chin. He had a reddish skin and old frostbites on his nose, which bled in cold weather. Aron called him his big hand; Robert was his little hand.
Arvid seemed slow of speech and shy with people, but the very first evening after they had gone to bed on their straw bundles in the stable room Robert began to ask his comrade in service about the master and mistress. What kind of place was Nybacken for a servant?
Before he went to sleep that night Robert had obtained from the elder boy a fair picture of their situation: Aron was hot-tempered, and if he became angry he might give his hands a box on the ear or a kick in the pants. Otherwise he was really a kind, decent soul who would harm no one. The mistress was less considerate: she hit the maids, and her husband as well, and Aron was afraid of her and dared not hit back. Both master and mistress were afraid of the wife’s mother, the old mistress who lived in a “reserved room” in the attic. She was so old she should have been in her grave long ago, if the devil had attended to his business; but apparently he too was afraid of her.
The service was demanding because the master was lazy; the hired men had to do nearly all the chores. The food wasn’t restricted in good years and they could eat as much bread as they wished. During lean years the farmhands and the maids must live on what they could get, here as everywhere else.
It was salt herring at every second meal—but in many places they had to eat herring every meal the year round, except Christmas Eve, and in many places the mistress herself cut the bread and portioned out the slices. So you couldn’t complain about the fare in Nybacken. Of course, it might happen that the bread was mildewed, the herring rancid, the milk blue sour, and the cheese rat-eaten, so they could see the marks of the small teeth. But only once had they found rat-dirt in the flour porridge; Aron himself had picked out the small black pebbles. Arvid had served at other farms where the bread was nearly always mildewed, the herring always rancid, the milk always sour, and neither’ the mistress nor the master had bothered to pick out the rat-dirt from the porridge. So one need not belittle the fare at Nybacken, he said.
So much the “little hand” learned from the big one during the first evening. And every evening thereafter Robert tumbled
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