Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) THE NOVELS OF BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON _Edited by EDMUND GOSSE_ VOLUME XIII _THE NOVELS OF BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON Edited by EDMUND GOSSE Fcap. 8vo, cloth 3s. net. Synnöve Solbakken. Arne. A Happy Boy. The Fisher Lass. The Bridal March, & A Day. Magnhild, & Dust. Captain Mansana, & Mother's Hands. Absalom's Hair, & A Painful Memory. In God's Way. (2 vols.) The Heritage of the Kurts. (2 vols.) Mary. LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 21 Bedford Street, W. C._ MARY BY BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON _Translated from the Norwegian by MARY MORISON_ LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 1909 _All rights reserved_ THE HOMESTEAD AND THE RACE The coast line of the south of Norway is very irregular. This is the work of the mountains and rivers. The former end in hillocks and headlands, off which often lie islands; the latter have dug out valleys and end in fjords or smaller inlets. In one of these inlets, known as "Kroken" (the nook), lies the homestead. The original name of the place was Krokskogen. In the documents of the Danish government officials this was transformed into Krogskoven; now it is Krogskogen. The owners originally called themselves Kroken; Anders and Hans Kroken were the regularly recurring names. In course of time they came to call themselves Krogh; the general in the Danish army subscribed himself _Von_ Krogh. Now they are Krog, plain and simple. The passengers on the small steamers which, on their way to and from the neighbouring town, touch at the landing-place below the little chapel, never fail to remark on the beautifully sheltered, snug situation of Krogskogen. The mountains rise high on the horizon, but here they have dwindled down. The families between two long wooded ridges which project into the sea--its buildings so close to the right-hand ridge that to the steamer-passengers it seems as if a man might easily jump from their roofs on to the steep hill-side. The west wind cannot find its way in here. The place seems, after the manner of children playing at hide-and-seek, to have the right to cry: _Pax!_ to it. And it is almost in a position to say the same to the north and east winds. Only a gale from the south can make its entrance, and that in humble fashion. Islands, one large and two small, detain and chasten it before they allow it to pass. The tall trees in front of the houses merely bow their topmost branches rhythmically; they abate none of their dignity.