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Boyhood in Norway-Part20_Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen(1848-1895)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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there's not a shadow of a doubt that this is Lady Clare."

Yes, strange as it may seem, it was indeed Lady Clare. But oh,



who would have recognized in this skeleton, covered with a

rusty-black skin and tousled mane and forelock in which chaff and



dirt were entangled--who would have recognized in this drooping

and rickety creature the proud, the dainty, the exquisite Lady



Clare? Her beautiful tail, which had once been her pride, was

now a mere scanty wisp; and a sharp, gnarled ridge running along



the entire length of her back showed every vertebra of her spine

through the notched and scarred skin. Poor Lady Clare, she had



seen hard usage. But now the days of her tribulations are at an

end. It did not take Erik long to find the half-tipsy lumberman



who was Lady Clare's owner; nor to agree with him on the price

for which he was willing to part with her.



There is but little more to relate. By interviews and

correspondence with the different parties through whose hands the



mare had passed, Erik succeeded in tracing her to Tollef Morud,

the ex-groom of John Garvestad. On being promised immunity from



prosecution, he was induced to confess that he had been hired by

his former master to arrange the nocturnal fight between Lady



Clare and Valders-Roan, and had been paid ten dollars for

stealing the mare when she had been sufficiently damaged. John



Garvestad had himself watched the fight from behind the fence,

and had laughed fit to split his sides, until Valders-Roan seemed



on the point of being worsted. Then he had interfered to

separate them, and Tollef had led Lady Clare away, bleeding from



a dozen wounds, and had hidden her in a deserted lumberman's shed

near the saeter where the searchers had overtaken him.



Having obtained these facts, Erik took pains to let John

Garvestad know that the chain of evidence against him was



complete, and if he had had his own way he would not have rested

until his enemy had suffered the full penalty of the law. But



John Garvestad, suspecting what was in the young man's mind,

suddenly divested himself of his pride, and cringing dike a



whipped dog, came and asked Erik's pardon, entreating him not to

prosecute.



As for Lady Clare, she never recovered her lost beauty. A pretty

fair-looking mare she became, to be sure, when good feeding and



careful grooming had made her fat and glossy once more. A long

and contented old age is, no doubt, in store for her. Having



known evil days, she appreciates the blessings which the change

in her fate has brought her. The captain declares she is the



best-tempered and steadiest horse in his stable.

BONNYBOY



I.

"Oh, you never will amount to anything, Bonnyboy!" said



Bonnyboy's father, when he had vainly tried to show him how to

use a gouge; for Bonnyboy had just succeeded in gouging a piece



out of his hand, and was standinghelplessly, letting his blood

drop on an engraving of Napoleon at Austerlitz, which had been



sent to his father for framing. The trouble with Bonnyboy was

that he was not only awkward--left-handed in everything he



undertook, as his father put it--but he was so very good-natured

that it was impossible to get angry with him. His large blue



innocent eyes had a childlike wonder in them, when he had done

anything particularly stupid, and he was so willing and anxious



to learn, that his ill-success seemed a reason for pity rather

than for wrath. Grim Norvold, Bonnyboy's father, was by trade a



carpenter, and handy as he was at all kinds of tinkering, he

found it particularly exasperating to have a son who was so



left-handed. There was scarcely anything Grim could not do. He

could take a watch apart and put it together again; he could mend



a harness if necessary; he could make a wagon; nay, he could even

doctor a horse when it got spavin or glanders. He was a sort of



jack-of-all-trades, and a very useful man in a valley where

mechanics were few and transportation difficult. He loved work



for its own sake, and was ill at ease when he had not a tool in

his hand. The exercise of his skill gave him a pleasure akin to



that which the fish feels in swimming, the eagle in soaring, and

the lark in singing. A finless fish, a wingless eagle, or a dumb



lark could not have been more miserable than Grim was when a

succession of holidays, like Easter or Christmas, compelled him



to be idle.

When his son was born his chief delight was to think of the time



when he should be old enough to handle a tool, and learn the




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