WHAT HAPPENED ONE ST. JOHN'S DAY
Well; what I am going to tell about now hasn't the least thing to do
with St. John's Day itself,--you mustn't think it has; not the least
connection with fresh young birch leaves and strong sunshine and
Whitsuntide lilies and all that. Far from it. It is only that a certain
St. John's Day stands out in my memory because of what happened to me
then.
Yes, now you shall hear about it. First I must tell you of the weather.
It was just exactly what it should be on St. John's Day. The sky looked
high and deep, with tiniest white clouds sprinkled over the whole circle
of the heavens, and the sunshine was glorious on the hills and mountains
and on the blue, blue sea.
Since it was Sunday as well as St. John's Day, I was all dressed up. To
be sure my dress was an old one of Mother's made over, but the insertion
was spandy new and there was a lot of it. I'd love to draw a picture of
that dress for you, if you wanted to have one made like it.
Perhaps I had best begin at the very beginning, which was really
Karsten's stamp collection. He does nothing but collect stamps, and talk
and jabber about stamps the whole day long. He swaps and bargains, and
has a whole heap of "dubelkits," as he calls them. These duplicates he
keeps in a tiny little box. He means to be very orderly, you see.
To tell the truth, Karsten is perfectly stupid about swapping. The other
boys can fool him like everything. He doesn't understand a bit how to do
business, and so I always feel like taking charge of these stamp
bargainings myself. If I see a boy I don't know very well, peeping
around the corner or sneaking up the hill, I am right on hand, for boys
that want to trade never come running; they act as if they were spying
round and lying in wait for some one.
The instant Karsten sees them he comes out with his stamp album. He
stands there and expounds and explains about his stamps, with such a
trustful look on his round pink face, while the other boys watch their
chance to fool him; and before he knows it, some of his very best
specimens are gone. That's the reason why I have taken hold.
As soon as I see a suspicious-looking boy on the horizon--that is to say
on the hill--I go out and stand at the corner in all my dignity and
won't budge, and I always put in my word you may be sure. Karsten
doesn't like it, but anyway, he had me to thank for a rare Chili stamp.
But it was that very same rare stamp that brought about all my trouble
on St. John's Day, because Nils Peter cheated that stupid donkey of a
Karsten out of it the next time he saw him. And that was on St. John's
Day, the very day after I had got it for him.
"I believe you would give them your nose, if they asked for it," I said
to Karsten. "You'd stand perfectly still and let them cut your nose
nicely off, if they wished."
"You think you are smart, don't you?" said Karsten fiercely.
As Olaug came out just then (she is my little sister, you remember), I
shouted to her:
"Run as fast as you can to Nils Peter and tell him Inger Johanne says
for him to give up that Chili stamp instantly. I'll hold Karsten while
you run."
He would have run after Olaug to catch her before she should have time
to ask Nils Peter for the stamp, for he thought that would be too
embarrassing.
Just as I got a good grip on Karsten, Olaug started. Oh, how she
ran!--just like a race-horse, with her head high. Her hat fell off and
hung by its elastic round her neck. She ran down the hill and up over
Kranheia at top speed.
But you may believe I had a job of it standing there and holding fast to
Karsten. He pushed and he struck and he scolded. My! how he did behave!
But I held on and watched Olaug to see how far she had got. I was high
on the hill, you know, and could see a long way.
"O dear! Olaug will burst a blood-vessel running like that," I thought.
My! now she is there--now away off there. Karsten squirmed and
struggled; now Olaug is on the path up Kranheia,--she's slowing down a
little.
Impossible for me to hold Karsten any longer. I had to let go. He was
off like an arrow, his hair standing up straight and his feet pounding
the ground like a young elephant's.
O pshaw! Running like that he would soon catch Olaug. It was frightfully
exciting, like a horse-race or a hunt after wild animals.
Well, that isn't a very good comparison, for nothing could be less like
a wild animal than Olaug; but it was awfully exciting to see whether she
would keep ahead and get the Chili stamp from Nils Peter.
So that I might see better how the race ended I sprang up to our
chicken-yard, or rather beyond it, on our own hill. You could see the
whole path up over Kranheia better from there than from any other place.
But just where I must be to see best was that awfully high board fence,
too high for me to see over, that went from the chicken-yard quite a
long way beyond on the hill.
Pooh! What of it? I just wiggled a board that was already loose, pulled
it away and stuck my head in the opening. It was a little narrow but I
got my head through. Oh--oh! Karsten had caught up to Olaug and run past
her like an ostrich at full speed--I've always heard that an ostrich
runs faster than anything else in the world--yes, there he was swinging
in towards Nils Peter's house.
O pshaw! Now that Chili stamp was lost for ever and ever.
Olaug had plumped herself right down; she had to sit still and get her
breath, poor thing!
Now that there was nothing more for me to watch, I started to draw my
head back out of the narrow opening between the thick boards. But, O
horrors! It stuck fast! I couldn't possibly get it back. I turned and
twisted my head this way and that, and up and down; I tried to pull and
squeeze it back, but no, that was utterly impossible. How in the world I
had ever got my head through the opening in the first place I can't
understand to this day, but that I had got it through was only too sure.
New struggles to get loose--I thought I should tear my ears
off--Goodness gracious, what should I do!
At first I wasn't a speck afraid. I just wriggled and pulled as hard as
I could. But when I realized that I simply could not free myself, a sort
of terror came over me.
Just think--if I never got my head out? Or suppose there came a cross
dog and bit me while my head was as if nailed fast in the fence! And
suppose nobody found me--(for of course nobody would know that I had run
up here beyond the chicken-yard)--and perhaps I should have to stay
caught in the fence the whole night, when it was dark.
I cried and sobbed, then I called; at last I screamed and roared. I
heard the hens in the yard flap their wings and run about wildly,
evidently frightened by the noise I made.
Down on the road, people stood still and gazed upward; then of course I
shrieked the louder. But no one looked up to the chicken-yard; and even
if they had, they couldn't very well see, from so far down, a round
brown head sticking through a brown fence. I roared incessantly, and at
last I saw a woman start to run up the hill--and then a man started--but
they did not see me and soon disappeared among the trees, although I
kept on bawling, "Help! I am right here! I am caught in the fence!"
Just then I saw Karsten and Nils Peter come out of Nils Peter's house.
They stood a moment as if listening, and naturally they recognized my
voice.
Then they started running. If Karsten had raced over there, he
certainly raced back again, too.
I kept bawling the whole time: "Here! here! in the fence! I am stuck
fast in the fence!" It wasn't many minutes before both Karsten and Nils
Peter stood behind me.
"Have you gone altogether crazy?" said Karsten in the greatest
astonishment.
I felt a little offended, but there's no use in being offended when you
haven't command over your own head, so I said very meekly:
"Ugh! such a nuisance! My head is stuck fast in here. Can't you help
me?"
Would you believe it? They didn't laugh a bit--awfully kind, I call
that--they just hauled and pulled me as hard as they could; it fairly
scraped the skin off behind my ears and I thought I should be scalped if
they kept on.
"No, it's no use," I said, crying again. "Run after Father, run after
Mother, get everybody to come--uh, hu, hu!"
Well, they came. I couldn't see them, but I could hear the whole lot of
them behind me.
Now there _was_ a scene! The same story began again; they pulled and
twisted my head, Father gave directions, I cried and Olaug cried and
everybody talked at once.
"No," said Father at last, "it can't be done. Hurry down to Carpenter
Wenzel and ask him to come and to bring his saw with him."
"Uh, huh! He'll saw my head off!" I wailed.
But Mother patted me on the back and comforted me, and all the others
standing behind kept saying it would be all right soon, while I stood
there like a mouse in a trap and cried and cried.
But it was Sunday and the carpenter was not at home.
"Run after my little kitchen saw then," said Mother. "Bring the
meat-axe, too," called Father.
Oh, how would they manage? It seemed to me my head would surely be sawed
or chopped to pieces.
[Illustration: They just hauled and pulled me as hard as they
could.--_Page 67._]
Well, now began a sawing and hammering around me. When Mother sawed I
was not afraid, but when Father began I was in terror, for Father, who
is so awfully clever with his head, is so unpractical with his hands
that he can't even drive a nail straight. So you can imagine how clumsy
he would be about getting a head out of a board fence.
The others all had to laugh finally, but I truly had no desire to laugh
until my head was well out. In fact, I didn't feel much like laughing
then either, for really it had been horrid.
Ever since that time Karsten and Nils Peter have teased me about that
Chili stamp. They say that getting my head stuck fast was a punishment
for putting my oar in everywhere. Think of it--as if I _did_ try to
manage other people's affairs so very much!
But it certainly is horrid when you can't control your own head. You
just try it and see.