stayed in the pew. He was not yet confirmed. Lately there had been a lack of clothing in the tailor’s house. The old things they wore had been turned and turned again, sewed and patched. Now all three were wearing new clothes, but in black material as if for a funeral. They were dressed in the draping material from the funeral coach. The tailor had gotten a jacket and pants from it, Maren a high-necked dress, and Rasmus had an entire suit to grow into for Confirmation. Cloth from both the inside and outside of the coach had been used. No one needed to know what the cloth had been used for previously, but people soon found out anyway. The wise woman Stine and a couple of other wise women, who didn’t support themselves by their wisdom, said that the clothes would draw disease and death to the house. “You can’t dress in shrouding unless you’re on your way to the grave.”
The clogmaker’s Johanna cried when she heard such talk, and when it now happened that after that day the tailor became more and more ill, it seemed apparent who the victim would be.
And it became apparent.
On the first Sunday after Trinity, tailor Ose died. Now Maren had to hold on to everything alone. And she held on, with her faith in herself and the Lord.
A year later Rasmus was confirmed, and he was going to the city to be apprenticed to a master tailor. Not one with twelve journeymen, but with one. Little Rasmus could be counted as a half. He was happy and looked pleased, but Johanna cried. She cared more about him than she herself knew. The tailor’s widow remained in the old house and continued the business.
That was at the time when the new King’s highway was opened. The old one that went by the willow tree and the tailor’s became just a track. The pond grew over, and duckweed covered the puddle of water that was left. The milepost fell over. It had no reason to stay standing, but the tree stayed strong and beautiful. The wind sighed through its branches and leaves.
The swallows flew away, and the starlings flew away, but they returned in the spring; and when they returned for the fourth time, Rasmus also came home. He had finished his apprenticeship and was a handsome, if slender, fellow. Now he wanted to tie up his knapsack and travel to foreign countries. His mind was set on it. But his mother held him back. Home was best, after all! All the other children were widely dispersed. He was the youngest, and the house was to be his. He would have plenty of work if he would travel around the area. He could be a traveling tailor, sew for a few weeks at one farm and then at another. That was traveling too! And Rasmus took his mother’s advice.
So he once again slept in the home of his childhood and sat again under the old willow tree and heard it sighing.
He was good looking and could whistle like a bird and sing both new and old ballads. He was welcomed at the big farms, especially at Klaus Hansen’s, the second richest farmer in the district.
Hansen’s daughter Else looked like the most beautiful flower and was always laughing. There were even people unkind enough to say that she laughed just to show off her lovely teeth. She was mirthful and always in the mood for jokes and pranks. Everything suited her.
She fell in love with Rasmus, and he fell in love with her, but neither of them said anything about it in so many words.
Rasmus became depressed. He had more of his father’s disposition than his mother’s, and was only in a good mood when he was with Else. Then they both laughed and joked and played pranks. But even though there was plenty of opportunity, he never said a single word of his love. “What good does it do?” was his thought. “Her parents will want prosperity for her, and I don’t have that. It would be the smart thing to go away.” But he wasn’t able to leave because it was as if Else had him on a string. He was like a trained bird that sang and whistled for her pleasure at her command.
Johanna, the clogmaker’s daughter, was a servant there on the farm, employed to do menial chores. She drove the milk wagon out in the field, where she milked the cows with the other maids. She also had to haul manure when needed. She never came up to the living room and saw little of Rasmus and Else, but she heard that the two of them were as good as engaged.
“Then Rasmus will be well-off,” she said. “I’m pleased for him.” And her eyes filled, but there was surely nothing to cry about!
It was market day, and Klaus Hansen drove to town. Rasmus went along and sat beside Else both coming and going. He was head over heels in love with her, but he didn’t say a word.
“He has to say something to me about this!” the girl thought, and she was right about that. “If he won’t speak, I’ll have to scare him into it.”
And soon there was talk around the farm that the richest farmer in the district had proposed to Else, and he had, but no one knew what she had answered. Rasmus’ head was swimming.
One evening Else placed a gold ring on her finger and asked Rasmus what it meant.
“Engagement!” he said.
“And who with, do you think?” she asked.
“With the rich farmer,” he answered.
“You hit it on the head,” she said, nodded to him and slipped away.
But he slipped away too and came back agitated to his mother’s house and packed up his knapsack. He was going away into the wide world, no matter how much his mother cried. He cut himself a walking stick from the old willow and whistled as if he were in a good mood. He was off to see the splendors of the world.
“This makes me very sad,” said his mother. “But for you it’s probably the right and best thing to get away, so I must bear it. Have faith in yourself and the Lord, and I will surely get you back again, happy and satisfied.”
He set off on the new highway and saw Johanna coming with a load of manure. She hadn’t seen him, and he didn’t want her to see him. He sat down behind the hedge along the ditch. He was hidden there, and Johanna drove past.
Into the wide world he went. No one knew where. His mother thought he would return before the year was out. He would see new things and have new things to think about, and would fall into his old groove that couldn’t be pressed out with any iron. “He has a little too much of his father’s temperament. I would rather he had mine, poor child! But he’ll surely come home. He can’t let go of me and the house.”
His mother would wait for ages. Else only waited for a month, and then she secretly visited the wise woman
