better with Joergen? The poor flower-roots were soon done for: there
might be years of trial before him.

It never occurred to him, or to any of the people around him, to think
their days lonely and monotonous: there was abundance to do, to hear,
and to see. The ocean itself was a great book; every day he read a
new page in it--the calm, the swell of the sea, the breeze, the storm.
The beach was his favourite resort; going to church was his event, his
visit of importance, though of visits there was one which occasionally
took place at the fisherman's house that was particularly welcome to
him. Twice a year his foster-mother's brother, the eel-man from
Fjaltring, up near Rovbierg, paid them a visit. He came in a painted
cart full of eels. The cart was closed and locked like a chest, and
painted with blue, red, and white tulips; it was drawn by two
dun-coloured bullocks, and Joergen was allowed to drive them.

The eel-man was a very good-natured, lively guest. He always brought a
keg of brandy with him; every one got a dram of it, or a coffee-cup
full if glasses were scarce; even Joergen, though he was but a little
fellow, was treated to a good thimbleful. That was to keep down the
fat eels, said the eel-man; and then he never failed to tell a story
he had often told before, and, when people laughed at it, he
immediately told it over again to the same persons; but this is a
habit with all talkative individuals; and as Joergen, during the whole
time that he was growing up, and into the years of his manhood, often
quoted phrases in this story, and applied them to himself, we may as
well listen to it.

"Out in the rivulet dwelt eels, and the eel-mother said to her
daughters, when they begged to be allowed to go a little way alone up
the stream. 'Do not go far, lest the horrible eel-spearer should come,
and take you all away.'

"But they went very far, and of eight daughters only three returned to
their mother, and these came wailing, 'We only went a short way from
the door, when the terrible eel-spearer came and killed our five
sisters.' 'They will come back again,' said the eel-mother. 'No,'
said the daughters, 'for he skinned them, cut them in pieces, and
fried them.' 'They will come again,' repeated the mother. 'Impossible,
for he ate them.' 'They will come again,' still persisted the
eel-mother. 'But he drank brandy after he had eaten them,' said the
daughter. 'Did he? Oh! oh! then they will never come again,' howle