l of oats in the stable? A streak of light--a
ray--yet I knew the stable was shut.

I took my ease, and crept home at a slow snail's pace. I felt thirsty,
luckily for the first time through the whole day, and I went and sought
about for a place where I could get a drink. I was a long distance away
from the bazaar, and I would not ask at a private house. Perhaps,
though, I could wait till I got home; it would take a quarter of an
hour. It was not at all so certain that I could keep down a draught of
water, either; my stomach no longer suffered in any way--I even felt
nausea at the spittle I swallowed. But the buttons! I had not tried the
buttons at all yet. There I stood, stock-still, and commenced to smile.
Maybe there was a remedy, in spite of all! I wasn't totally doomed. I
should certainly get a penny for them; tomorrow I might raise another
some place or other, and Thursday I might be paid for my newspaper
article. I should just see it would come out all right. To think that I
could really go and forget the buttons. I took them out of my pocket,
and inspected them as I walked on again. My eyes grew dazed with joy. I
did not see the street; I simply went on. Didn't I know exactly the big
pawn-shop--my refuge in the dark evenings, with my blood-sucking
friend? One by one my possessions had vanished there--my little things
from home--my last book. I liked to go there on auction days, to look
on, and rejoice each time my books seemed likely to fall into good
hands. Magelsen, the actor, had my watch; I was almost proud of that. A
diary, in which I had written my first small poetical attempt, had been
bought by an acquaintance, and my topcoat had found a haven with a
photographer, to be used in the studio. So there was no cause to
grumble about any of them. I held my buttons ready in my hand; "Uncle"
is sitting at his desk, writing. "I am not in a hurry," I say, afraid
of disturbing him, and making him impatient at my application. My voice
sounded so curiously hollow I hardly recognized it again, and my heart
beat like a sledge-hammer.

He came smilingly over to me, as was his wont, laid both his hands flat
on the counter, and looked at my face without saying anything. Yes, I
had brought something of which I would ask him if he could make any
use; something which is only in my way at home, assure you of it--are
quite an annoyance--some buttons. Well, what then? what was there about
the buttons? and he thrusts his eyes do