Authors, Swedish -- 19th century -- Biography; Lagerlöf, Selma, 1858-1940; Sweden -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
AT SIX-THIRTY every morning Nurse made a fire in the children’s room,
and at seven o’clock the children had to rise and start dressing. When
they were ready, say at about half after seven, and the beds had been
hurriedly made, a tray was sent up from the kitchen with bowls of gruel
and large pieces of buttered _knäckebröd._ This was the _little_
breakfast. Then, until eight, they sat at a large table by the window
and glanced over their lessons. The nursery had to serve as schoolroom,
there being no other place available.
On the stroke of eight books were closed. The children then put on
their wraps and went out in the half-dark winter morning--whatever the
weather. They hurried down to the pond first thing, to see whether
there was ice for skating, or, in lieu of that, went sledding on the
driveway. If there was nothing else they could do, they ran down to the
barn to see the baby rabbits and romp with the sheep-dog.
A little before nine they had _big_ breakfast, which usually consisted
of eggs, or griddle-cakes, or fried herring with boiled potatoes, or
black pudding with salt pork and cream gravy. At breakfast the family
did not sit at the big table, but each person, in turn, helped himself
and then sat down at one of the side tables.
At nine sharp one had to be through with the meal, for at that hour
lessons began. Then it was back to the nursery again to sit at the long
table reading, writing, and figuring until noon. The little girls had a
governess now--Ida Melanoz, eldest daughter of Sexton Melanoz, who had
her father’s good brain and teaching ability.
At twelve o’clock dinner was served at the round dining table. One of
the little girls said grace before the meal, the other after it. Then,
rising from table, they kissed Mother’s hand and Father’s hand, and
said: “Thanks for the food.” It was never quiet during the dinner hour.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf kept the ball of chatter rolling. He could always
find something to talk about. If nothing more thrilling had happened
than his meeting an old woman in the lane, he would make a whole story
out of the incident.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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