Modern Swedish Masterpieces: Short StoriesHeidenstam, Verner von
General
Modern Swedish Masterpieces: Short Stories
Heidenstam, Verner von
Short stories, Swedish -- Translations into English; Swedish fiction -- Translations into English
When he stood on the street again, he became conscious of his good
intentions calling more strongly and clearly than before. He ought to go
down to the city, look up a couple of God-fearing and kindly people to
whom the prison director and the pastor had given him directions, get
work, and procure himself a cheap lodging. But it was still early in the
day, the clock-maker’s time-piece over there on the corner did not yet
point quite to ten, the sun shone heart-warmingly in the blue heavens,
and the air was mild and still. He could give himself a little time, he
could go a piece toward Lilyholm out in the woods.
Yes, the woods--he had thought of them many times while he sat caged off
there behind the grating.
He had grown up in a village on a wooded slope half a mile south of
Stockholm. After he had been confirmed, he had been set as prentice to a
pious little tailor in South Stockholm. The tailor was a Baptist; Bloom
also became a Baptist and submitted to total immersion. But when he went
to another tailor, who belonged to the national church and constantly
misused the name of the Devil, his new faith gradually waned. He made
new acquaintances and became the betrothed of a middle-aged serving-maid
who had a bank-book and gave him money. In that way he grew accustomed
to amusements, not great, but nevertheless more than are good for poor
folks. On fine summer evenings he often sat in Mosebacke’s café or on
the river terrace drinking punch, sometimes with his intended, but
sometimes with a little dark-haired dressmaker, whom he had got to know
at Tekla’s one afternoon when she had given a tea in the maid’s room.
She was called Edith; she had thick dark hair and very red lips. She
went for long periods without work, but always knew how to provide for
herself notwithstanding. Bloom often wished that Tekla’s faithful love
for him, together with her bank-book, might by some magic means be
transferred to Edith. But Edith’s heart was inconstant and never to be
relied upon, and the bank-book still remained Tekla’s. So, as the case
was, he at least got a little enjoyment from the money of the one and
the red lips of the other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account