The Waif of the Cynthia | Page 6

the home-made
article?"
"Ah! it is clearer, that is all. It does not taste as strong as ours, they say;
and that is the reason why all the fine ladies in the town prefer it, no
doubt; but it does not do any more good to the lungs of sick people than
our oil."
"But for some reason or other they buy it in preference; and since it is a
very useful medicine it is essential that the public should experience as
little disgust as possible in taking it. Therefore, if a doctor finds out a
method of making it more palatable, is it not his duty to make use of his
discovery?"
Master Hersebom scratched his ear.
"Doubtless," he said, reluctantly, "it is his duty as a doctor, but that is
no reason why he should prevent poor fishermen from getting their
living."
"I believe the doctor's factory gives employment to three hundred,
whilst there were only twenty in Noroe at the time of which you
speak," objected Erik, timidly.
"You are right, and that is why the business is no longer worth
anything," said Hersebom.
"Come, supper is ready. Seat yourselves at the table," said Dame

Katrina, who saw that the discussion was in danger of becoming
unpleasantly warm.
Erik understood that further opposition on his part would be out of
place, and he did not answer the last argument of his father, but took
his habitual seat beside Vanda.
"Were the doctor and Mr. Malarius friends in childhood?" he asked, in
order to give a turn to the conversation.
"Yes," answered the fisherman, as he seated himself at the table. "They
were both born in Noroe, and I can remember when they played around
the school-house, although they are both ten years older than I am. Mr.
Malarius was the son of the physician, and Doctor Schwaryencrona
only the son of a simple fisherman. But he has risen in the world, and
they say that he is now worth millions, and that his residence in
Stockholm is a perfect palace. Oh, learning is a fine thing."
After uttering this aphorism the brave man took a spoon to help the
smoking fish and potatoes, when a knock at the door made him pause.
"May I come in, Master Hersebom?" said a deep-toned voice. And
without waiting for permission the person who had spoken entered,
bringing with him a great blast of icy air.
"Doctor Schwaryencrona!" cried the three children, while the father
and mother rose quickly.
"My dear Hersebom," said the doctor, taking the fisherman's hand, "we
have not seen each other for many years, but I have not forgotten your
excellent father, and thought I might call and see a friend of my
childhood!"
The worthy man felt a little ashamed of the accusations which he had
so recently made against his visitor, and he did not know what to say.
He contented himself, therefore, with returning the doctor's shake of the
hand cordially, and smiling a welcome, whilst his good wife was more
demonstrative.

"Quick, Otto, Erik, help the doctor to take off his overcoat, and you,
Vanda, prepare another place at the table," she said, for, like all
Norwegian housekeepers, she was very hospitable.
"Will you do us the honor, doctor, of eating a morsel with us?"
"Indeed I would not refuse, you may be sure, if I had the least appetite;
for I see you have a very tempting dish before you. But it is not an hour
since I took supper with Mr. Malarius, and I certainly would not have
called so early if I had thought you would be at the table. It would give
me great pleasure if you would resume your seats and eat your supper."
"Oh, doctor!" implored the good wife, "at least you will not refuse
some 'snorgas' and a cup of tea?"
"I will gladly take a cup of tea, but on condition that, you eat your
supper first," answered the doctor, seating himself in the large
arm-chair.
Vanda immediately placed the tea-kettle on the fire, and disappeared in
the neighboring room. The rest of the family understanding with native
courtesy that it would annoy their guest if they did not do as he wished,
began to eat their supper.
In two minutes the doctor was quite at his ease. He stirred the fire, and
warmed his legs in the blaze of the dry wood that Katrina had thrown
on before going to supper. He talked about old times, and old friends;
those who had disappeared, and those who remained, about the changes
that had taken place even in Bergen.
He made himself quite at home, and, what was more remarkable, he
succeeded in making Mr. Hersebom eat his supper.
Vanda now entered carrying a large wooden dish, upon