At the stroke of ten all the family arose, and each in turn kissed the
father and mother good-night; whereupon Mr. Hoyer took the great lamp
from the table and mounted the stairs, followed by his pack of noisy
boys and girls. Albert and Ralph found themselves, with four smaller
Hoyers, in an enormous low-ceiled room with many windows. In three
corners stood huge canopied bedsteads, with flowered-chintz curtains and
mountainous eiderdown coverings which swelled up toward the ceiling. In
the middle of the wall, opposite the windows, a big iron stove, like
the one in the sitting-room (only that it was adorned with a bunch of
flowers, peaches, and grapes, and not with Diana and her nymphs), was
roaring merrily, and sending a long red sheen from its draught-hole
across the floor.
Around the big warm stove the boys gathered (for it was positively
Siberian in the region of the windows), and while undressing played
various pranks upon each other, which created much merriment. But
the most laughter was provoked at the expense of Finn Hoyer, a boy of
fourteen, whose bare back his brother insisted upon exhibiting to his
guest; for it was decorated with a facsimile of the picture on the
stove, showing roses and luscious peaches and grapes in red relief.
Three years before, on Christmas Eve, the boys had stood about the
red-hot stove, undressing for their bath, and Finn, who was naked, had,
in the general scrimmage to get first into the bath-tub, been
pushed against the glowing iron, the ornamentation of which had been
beautifully burned upon his back. He had to be wrapped in oil and cotton
after that adventure, and he recovered in due time, but never quite
relished the distinction he had acquired by his pictorial skin.
It was long before Albert fell asleep; for the cold kept up a continual
fusillade, as of musketry, during the entire night. The woodwork of the
walls snapped and cracked with loud reports; and a little after midnight
a servant came in and stuffed the stove full of birch-wood, until it
roared like an angry lion. This roar finally lulled Albert to sleep, in
spite of the startling noises about him.
The next morning the boys were aroused at seven o’clock by a servant,
who brought a tray with the most fragrant coffee and hot rolls. It was
in honor of the guest that, in accordance with Norse custom, this
early meal was served; and all the boys, carrying pillows and blankets,
gathered on Albert’s and Ralph’s bed and feasted right royally. So it
seemed to them, at least; for any break in the ordinary routine, be it
ever so slight, is an event to the young. Then they had a pillow-fight,
thawed at the stove the water in the pitchers (for it was frozen hard),
and arrayed themselves to descend and meet the family at the nine
o’clock breakfast. When this repast was at an end, the question arose
how they were to entertain their guest, and various plans were proposed.
But to all Ralph’s propositions his mother interposed the objection that
it was too cold.
“Mother is right,” said Mr. Hoyer; “it is so cold that ‘the chips jump
on the hill-side.’ You’ll have to be content with indoor sports to-day.”
“But, father, it is not more than twenty degrees below zero,” the boy
demurred. “I am sure we can stand that, if we keep in motion. I have
been out at thirty without losing either ears or nose.”
He went to the window to observe the thermometer; but the dim daylight
scarcely penetrated the fantastic frost-crystals, which, like a splendid
exotic flora, covered the panes. Only at the upper corner, where the ice
had commenced to thaw, a few timid sunbeams were peeping in, making the
lamp upon the table seem pale and sickly. Whenever the door to the hall
was opened a white cloud of vapor rolled in; and every one made haste
to shut the door, in order to save the precious heat. The boys, being
doomed to remain indoors, walked about restlessly, felt each other’s
muscle, punched each other, and sometimes, for want of better
employment, teased the little girls. Mr. Hoyer, seeing how miserable
they were, finally took pity on them, and, after having thawed out
a window-pane sufficiently to see the thermometer outside, gave his
consent to a little expedition on skees [2] down to the river.
And now, boys, you ought to have seen them! Now there was life in them!
You would scarcely have dreamed that they were the same creatures who,
a moment ago, looked so listless and miserable. What rollicking laughter
and fun, while they bundled one another in scarfs, cardigan-jackets,
fur-lined top-boots, and overcoats!
“You had better take your guns along, boys,” said the father, as they
stormed out through the front door; “you might strike a couple of
ptarmigan, or a mountain-cock, over on the west side.”
“I am going to take your rifle, if you’ll let me,” Ralph exclaimed. “I
have a fancy we might strike bigger game than mountain-cock. I shouldn’t
object to a wolf or two.”
“You are welcome to the rifle,” said his father; “but I doubt whether
you’ll find wolves on the ice so early in the day.”
Mr. Hoyer took the rifle from its case, examined it carefully, and
handed it to Ralph. Albert, who was a less experienced hunter than
Ralph, preferred a fowling-piece to the rifle; especially as he had
no expectation of shooting anything but ptarmigan. Powder-horns,
cartridges, and shot were provided; and quite proudly the two friends
started off on their skees, gliding over the hard crust of the snow,
which, as the sun rose higher, was oversown with thousands of glittering
gems. The boys looked like Esquimaux, with their heads bundled up in
scarfs, and nothing visible except their eyes and a few hoary locks of
hair which the frost had silvered.