Ida Brandt by Herman Bang Read Free Book Online

dear,” said Miss Rosenfeld.
    The pharmacist’s wife, overflowing with flounces and sitting beside Miss Adlerberg, said:
    “Yes, it is dreadful on the hands. Franz (that was the pharmacist) will simply not allow me to do anything…because of my hands.”
    “A little glycerine will put it right,” said Miss Rosenfeld.
    “Thank you dear.”
    It was Ida who was continuing to collect flowers with stems that were far too short.
    Brandt arrived; he was going back and forth with all ten fingers as black as coal from the gunpowder he was using to make rockets and Bengal lights down in the office.
    “Yes,” he said. “They were really good last year. They all went off except one…But when His Excellency received his new title, Eriksen, my managing clerk, had made a Catherine-wheel…that was rather nice.”
    Brandt stopped in front of Miss Rosenfeld.
    “Ah, you have the child,” he said with a smile, stroking Ida’s head with his black fingers.
    “You ought to look after that cough, Brandt,” said Miss Rosenfeld.
    Brandt had had a nasty cough recently.
    “Ugh,” – the maids puffed and shook their skirts.
    “How many yards have we got now?”
    And one of them swung the festoon like a skipping rope while the other started to sing:

    In the woods when gunfire sounds
    And when the hunter’s horn is heard
    And when there’s barking from the hounds,
    Where birds do lie and die unheard
    And other beasts with wounds profound
    Lie bleeding on the ground.

    The forester’s family had arrived up on the Mound, where Mrs Brandt was ensconced.
    Mrs Lund had come up here: she wanted to present a bunch of flowers.
    “And my roses,” she said. “Heaven knows how it comes about… but they seemed to be doing so well, and they are producing no more than buds…And those in the churchyard, there are so many of them and they look splendid, but I didn’t really think I could use them on an occasion such as this.”
    So Mrs Lund was welcome to such as Mrs Brandt had, but that was not very many.
    “Oh well,” said Mrs Lund in some relief. “His Lordship will look at the will more than the deed.”
    The forester clicked his heels and said:
    “Aye, I’m a sober man, mother, but on the twentieth I’m going to get drunk.”
    “All right, Lund,” said his wife, “provided you don’t make a speech.”
    Mrs Madsen arrived down in the gooseberry walk. She did not know what to turn to: Madsen’s top hat needed to be ironed, and she simply didn’t have an iron to use.”
    “That’s a bit of a problem then,” said the forester: “Madsen, the representative of the armed forces.”
    The veterans were to arrive at twelve o’ clock.
    The girls came from the grove in a single big group, and the pharmacist’s wife, holding a white parasol, waved to those assembled on the Mound. Ida shook hands with everyone before going up.
    Mrs Madsen wanted just to walk around down in the meadows adjoining the grove, and the forester and his family accompanied her. They went over the stile and looked at the wreaths and garlands lying on the ground.
    “It is really beautiful, it is really beautiful,” said Mrs Lund, who was sitting on a bench – she always wanted to sit down.
    But Madsen, who was going round estimating every single piece, said:
    “There were about a hundred and thirty yards at Her Late Ladyship’s funeral…”

    At eleven o’ clock, His Lordship went around with a candle to close all the doors. This was the family custom. He was wearing a skull cap – during the day he wore a ginger wig very much like that worn by the farm manager – and tested every lock.
    The girls, who had hidden in Miss Adlerberg’s sitting room, sat giggling in the semi-darkness as he went past.
    Then Falkenstjerne knocked on the window from out in the garden, and they opened it for him.
    “We’ve saved the vine,” he whispered.
    Laughing quietly, the girls jumped out one by one, holding on to their skirts.
    “And the lamps?” one of them