But it was just while Silla sat and sewed and darned and patched in the evening by the low oil-lamp that the dancing and gaiety were best carried on in her head, and that all Kristofa’s and her friends’ word-pictures transformed themselves into actual experiences.  Bubble after bubble, the one more wonderful than the other, floated up or burst right in front of Mrs. Holman’s nose, while she sat knitting.  She saw nothing, only wondered a little sometimes what there could be to smile and laugh at in the heel of a stocking.

CHAPTER VII

“The world is right enough after all”

Down in Haegberg’s smithy it looked as if it were going to be not only blue Monday,[2] but blank Tuesday too.  With the exception of one solitary figure, it was black and empty.  Outside the door a row of iron picks, spades and crowbars, were waiting to be sharpened for the navvies on the new harbour works.

[Footnote 2:  An extra day’s holiday taken by workmen after the lawful bank holiday is called “blue Monday”; if still another follows, it is called “blank Tuesday.”]

Haegberg was going about with his leather apron hanging down over one shoulder, as furious as a Berserk.  There were no respectable men and apprentices to be had nowadays; but he would give them notice man by man, as sure as his name was Haegberg!

One was standing there grinding.  And he had stood there quite alone, filing with all his might at his journeyman’s probation work, the whole of St. John’s day yesterday.  That’s how it is:  one goes on the spree, and another pinches and is so stingy about his money, that he would willingly lay his soul in the fire for it.  The fellow was a good enough workman, to be sure, and if he had not had that affair with the police, then—­yes, no—­no, yes, to be sure, he was acquitted of that, so he was!

The person in question was Nikolai, who had entered Haegberg’s smithy again to complete his years of apprenticeship.

Ah, at last!  There came two men sauntering over the yard to the smithy.

Haegberg turned round and pretended not to see them; on consideration, it was not the time to part with one’s men.  He only went up himself and took one of the crowbars out of the forge; and when the two culprits arrived, he stood there, tall, lean, strong, and grey-haired, hammering so that the sparks flew.

This piece of work, unworthy of the master, spoke louder than the angriest reproaches, and when in silence he flung the crowbar down, and began sharpening a pick, it was sufficiently evident that there was thunder in the air.

By degrees during the morning they arrived, with staring eyes, beating temples, and faces either pale or red from being up all night, one with a swollen eye, another with a plaster across his nose.  Their voices were hoarse, and they each went silently to work.  They must exert themselves if they were to get through all the tool-work that remained.