288 A DAY AT FRAMHEIM 



forgot to tell you to look out for the threshold of the 

 pent-house door. It is not the first time someone has 

 fallen over it. That's a trap we have all fallen into ; but 

 now we know it, and it doesn't catch us any more. 



' If you will wait a second I'll strike a match, and 

 then we shall see our way. Here we are in the kitchen. 

 Now make yourself invisible and follow me all day, and 

 you will see what our life is like. As you know, it is 

 St. John's Eve, so we shall only work during the fore- 

 noon; but you will be able to see how we spend a 

 holiday evening. When you send your account home, 

 you must promise me not to paint it in too strong 

 colours. Good-bye for the present." 



Br-r-r-r-r-r ! There's the alarm-clock. I wait and 

 wait and wait. At home I am always accustomed to 

 hear that noise followed by the passage of a pair of bare 

 feet across the floor, and a yawn or so. Here not a 

 sound. When Amundsen left me he forgot to say 

 where I could best put myself. I tried to follow him 

 into the room, but the atmosphere there no thanks! 

 I could easily guess that nine men were sleeping in 

 a room 19 feet by 13 feet; it did not require anyone to 

 tell me that. Still not a sound. I suppose they only 

 keep that alarm-clock to make themselves imagine 

 they are turning out. Wait a minute, though. ' Lind- 

 trom ! Lindtrom ! ' He went by the name of Lindtrom, 

 not Lindstrom. " Now, by Jove ! you've got to get up ! 

 The clock's made row enough." That's Wisting; I 



