The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas Read Free Book Online

these turnips! he thought, full of disgust. What’s the good of them all? As if turnips were the only thing in the world!
    Mattis had long since stopped stooping down, he had begun crawling forward on his knees. His fingers wouldn’t do as they were told, they misunderstood his thoughts, and now and again they held up the work completely.
    He recognized it all so well from past experience, he expected it. He carried on as best as he could, but his thoughts went dartingin all directions. After a while he noticed that he was pulling up turnips instead of goosefoot. He gave a start, got up to his feet and stood trembling.
    Am I going—
    No, no.
    There were the farmer and the young couple coming back from the other side of the ridge, each busy with two new rows. As they appeared the girl lifted her head a little and gave a quick wave to Mattis who stood there helpless and forlorn. Nothing but a brief wave in between pulling up weeds. But to him it made all the difference.
    I’ll reward her for that, he vowed, surely that isn’t against the rules. They’d be passing one another in a little while and he’d have the chance of telling her, boyfriend or no boyfriend.
    For a while, too, his hands did what was expected of them. He crawled forward on his knees. And pulled up the right plants this time, and not turnips. Now that they were moving toward one another, it looked as if Mattis was really getting some speed up; the distance between them was rapidly growing smaller. But Mattis had stopped altogether. He was lost in contemplation of the young couple.
    They were real sweethearts, there was no doubt about it.
    No wonder the farmer was pleased with them, and gave them a brief smile from time to time. It couldn’t only be the work hewas thinking of – they made it pleasant for everyone in the field. They were laughing and chatting, and working properly the whole time as well. Now and then they managed to get really close to one another, and Mattis noticed carefully many small things they did then, things it might be useful to know.
    This was what real sweethearts were like, then. The lucky farmer was keeping up with them, in the rows he was doing. Between the three of them and Mattis there was now a dark patch that had been weeded. His two rows lay in front of him, ugly and neglected.
    But he couldn’t help it: he had to watch this sparkling young couple and listen to their talk, their bubbling joy, their strange eyes.
    They were right opposite him now. Rippling laughter, forcing its way through all the grind and toil.
    Mattis got to his feet.
    “However much you’re sweethearts, I want to—” he began frantically, looking straight at the beautiful girl. But then he got stuck.
    The others waited in surprise, both the girl and the young man. They weren’t laughing, either. Though he didn’t realize it, Mattis himself prevented this by the adoration on his face and in his voice.
    The farmer, too, had quietly stopped where he was.
    They waited in vain. At last the farmer said in a soft voice: “Well, go on then, Mattis.”
    The girl said nothing, nor did the young man, they were both waiting anxiously.
    They waited in vain, all of them. Mattis never got any further with what he’d started saying – but all the same it was as though he’d managed to establish some kind of contact and was no longer left struggling all alone. There was so much more he’d wanted to say, and in a different way, but as usual it had gone from him, had got mixed up with all kinds of other things.
    “Because you are! Aren’t you?” he said finally, continuing where he’d left off.
    “Yes,” replied the girl, “we are.”
    “Yes, that’s how it ought to be for all of us,” he blurted out before realizing what he was saying.
    “Well, something could be done about that,” said the girl, giving him a casual nod.
    I could have told my dream to this girl from beginning to end, he thought.
    “Well, there’s nothing more,” he mumbled,