Growth of the Soil, Knut Hamsun [best self help books to read txt] 📗

Eleseus himself at that; but he went in to his mother, and got her to give him an old thimble, filed off the end, and made quite a fine ferrule. Oh, Eleseus was not so helpless after all, with his long, white hands.

The brothers teased each other as much as ever. “Am I to have what Uncle Sivert’s left?” asked Eleseus.

“You have it? How much is it?” asked Sivert.

“Ha ha ha, you want to know how much it is first, you old miser!”

“Well, you can have it, anyway,” said Sivert.

“It’s between five and ten thousand.”

“Daler?” cried Sivert; he couldn’t help it.

Now Eleseus never reckoned in Daler, but he didn’t like to say no at the time, so he just nodded, and left it at that till next day.

Then he took up the matter again. “Aren’t you sorry you gave me all that yesterday?” he said.

“Woodenhead! Of course not,” said Sivert. That was what he said, but⁠—well, five thousand Daler was five thousand Daler, and no little sum; if his brother were anything but a lousy Indian savage, he ought to give back half.

“Well, to tell the truth,” explained Eleseus, “I don’t reckon to get fat on that legacy, after all.”

Sivert looked at him in astonishment. “Ho, don’t you?”

“No, nothing special, that is to say. Not what you might call par excellence.”

Eleseus had some notions of accounts, of course, and Uncle Sivert’s money-chest, the famous bottle-case, had been opened and examined while he was there; he had had to go through all the accounts and make up a balance sheet. Uncle Sivert had not set this nephew to work on the fields or mending of herring nets; he had initiated him into a complex muddle of figures, the weirdest bookkeeping ever seen. If a man had paid his taxes some years back in kind, with a goat, say, or a load of dried cod, there was neither flesh nor fish to show for it now; but old Sivert searched his memory and said, “He’s paid!”

“Right, then we’ll cross him out,” said Sivert.

Eleseus was the man for this sort of work; he was bright and quick, and encouraged the invalid by assuring him that things were all right; the two had got on well together, even to jesting at times. Eleseus was a bit of a fool, perhaps, in some things, but so was his uncle; and the two of them sat there drawing up elaborate documents in favour not only of little Sivert but also to benefit the village, the commune which the old man had served for thirty years. Oh, they were grand days! “I couldn’t have got a better man to help with all this than you, Eleseus boy,” said Uncle Sivert. He sent out and bought mutton, in the middle of the summer; fish was brought up fresh from the sea, Eleseus being ordered to pay cash from the chest. They lived well enough. They got hold of Oline⁠—they couldn’t have found a better person to invite to a feast, nor one more sure to spread abroad the news of Uncle Sivert’s greatness to the end. And the satisfaction was mutual. “We must do something for Oline, too,” said Uncle Sivert, “she being a widow and not well off. There’ll be enough for little Sivert, anyhow.” Eleseus managed it with a few strokes of the pen; a mere codicil to the last will and testament, and lo, Oline was also a sharer in the inheritance.

“I’ll look after you,” said Uncle Sivert to her. “If so be I shouldn’t get better this time and get about again on earth I’ll take care you’re not left out.” Oline declared that she was speechless, but speechless she was not; she wept and was touched to the heart and grateful; there was none to compare with Oline for finding the immediate connection between a worldly gift and being “repaid a thousandfold eternally in the world to come.” No, speechless she was not.

But Eleseus? At first, perhaps, he may have taken a bright enough view of his uncle’s affairs, but after a while he began to think things over and talk as well. He tried at first with a slight hint: “The accounts aren’t exactly as they should be,” he said.

“Well, never mind that,” said the old man. “There’ll be enough and to spare when I’m gone.”

“You’ve money outstanding besides, maybe?” said Eleseus. “In a bank, or so?” For so report had said.

“H’m,” said the old man. “That’s as it may be. But, anyhow, with the fishery, the farm and buildings and stock, red cows and white cows and all⁠—don’t you worry about that, Eleseus, my boy.”

Eleseus had no idea what the fishery business might be worth, but he had seen the livestock; it consisted of one cow, partly red and partly white. Uncle Sivert must have been delirious. Some of the accounts, too, were difficult to make out at all; they were a muddle, a bare jumble of figures, especially from the date when the coinage was changed; the district treasurer had frequently reckoned the small Kroner as if they were full Daler. No wonder he fancied himself rich! But when everything was reduced to something like order, Eleseus feared there would not be much left over. Perhaps not enough to settle at all.

Ay, Sivert might easily promise him all that came to him from his uncle!

The two brothers jested about it. Sivert was not upset over the matter, not at all; perhaps, indeed, it might have irked him something more if he really had thrown away five thousand Daler. He knew well enough that it had been a mere speculation, naming him after his uncle; he had no claim to anything there. And now he pressed Eleseus to take what there was. “It’s to be yours, of course,” said he. “Come along, let’s get it set down in writing. I’d like to see you a rich man. Don’t be too proud to take it!”

Ay, they had many a laugh