Look Back on Happiness | Page 3

reindeer, the path it took, what it did by the river,
and how it continued on its journey. There under the trees it has nibbled,
and its horns have rubbed against the bark, leaving their marks; there an
osier bed has forced it to turn aside; but just beyond, it has straightened
its path and continued east once more. All this I think of.
And you? Have you read in a newspaper, which disagrees with another
newspaper, what the public in Norway is thinking of old-age insurance?

II
On stormy days I sit indoors and find something to occupy my time.
Perhaps I write letters to some acquaintance or other telling him I am
well, and hope to hear the same from him. But I cannot post the letters,
and they grow older every day. Not that it matters. I have tied the
letters to a string that hangs from the ceiling to prevent Madame from
gnawing at them.
One day a man came to the hut. He walked swiftly and stealthily; his
clothes were ordinary and he wore no collar, for he was a laboring man.
He carried a sack, and I wondered what could be in it.
"Good morning," we said to each other. "Fine weather in the woods."
"I didn't expect to find anybody in the hut," said the man. His manner
was at once forceful and discontented; he flung down the sack without

humility.
"He may know something about me," I thought, "since he is such a
man."
"Have you lived here long?" he asked. "And are you leaving soon?"
"Is the hut yours, perhaps?" I asked in my turn.
Then he looked at me.
"Because if the hut is yours, that's another matter," I said. "But I don't
intend like a pickpocket to take it with me when I leave."
I spoke gently and jestingly to avoid committing a blunder by my
speech.
But I had said quite the right thing; the man at once lost his assurance.
Somehow I had made him feel that I knew more about him than he
knew about me.
When I asked him to come in, he was grateful and said:
"Thank you, but I'm afraid I'll get snow all over your floor."
Then he took special pains to wipe his boots clean, and bringing his
sack with him, crawled in.
"I could give you some coffee," I said.
"You shouldn't trouble on my account," he replied, wiping his face and
panting with the heat, "though I've been walking all night."
"Are you crossing the fjeld?"
"That depends. I don't suppose there's work to be got on a winter day
on the other side, either."
I gave him coffee.
"Got anything to eat?" he said. "It's a shame to ask you. A round of
crisp-bread? I had no chance to bring food with me."
"Yes, I've got bread, butter, and reindeer cheese. Help yourself."
"It's not so easy for a lot of people in the winter," said the man as he
ate.
"Could you take some letters to the village for me?" I asked. "I'll pay
you for it."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," the man replied. "I'm afraid that's
impossible. I must cross the fjeld now. I've heard there's work in
Hilling, in the Hilling Forest. So I can't."
"Must get his back up a bit again," I thought. "He just sits now there
without any guts at all. In the end he'll start begging for a few coppers."
I felt his sack and said:

"What's this you're lugging about with you? Heavy things?"
"Mind your own business!" was his instant retort, as he drew the sack
closer to him.
"I wasn't going to steal any of it; I'm no thief," I said, jesting again.
"I don't care what you are," he muttered.
The day wore on. Since I had a visitor, I had no desire to go to the
woods, but wanted to sit and talk to him and ask him questions. He was
a very ordinary man, of no great interest to the irons in my fire, with
dirty hands, uneducated and uninteresting in his speech; probably he
had stolen the things in his sack. Later I learned that he was quick in
much small knowledge that life had taught him. He complained that his
heels felt cold, and took off his boots. And no wonder he felt cold, for
where the heels of his stockings should have been there were only great
holes. He borrowed a knife to cut away the ragged edges, and then
drew on the stockings again back to front, so that the torn soles came
over his instep. When he had put on his boots again, he said, "There,
now it's nice and warm."
He did no harm. If he took