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THE AMERICAN-SC AN DIN AVI AN REVIEW 
beside her, had fled to a big pile of brush which lay in the corner of 
the yard, m which she squatted dumbly and without a complaint. 
1 hence, if she could and would, she might creep out under the fence 
and get home again. So far it was all well and good, but Nils Matson 
was m reality ill at ease, and with the thorn of remorse in his heart he 
went into his house. 
Later in the afternoon towards evening, when Mother Malena 
came to inquire after her hen, he was, however, assured enough as he 
stood in the yard and smoked his pipe. 
First Mother Malena only peeped through the gate, and he pre¬ 
tended not to see her but stood still on a millstone which constituted 
one of Ins doorsteps, considering what he should say. 
Mother Malena was tall and big, but through the irony of fate 
she always happened to get skirts which had been made for small 
women which caused them mostly to be pulled up half a yard on her 
legs. And what legs they were! They showed neither calf nor nar¬ 
row part; they were timbered of good material, straight up and down, 
without unnecessary flourishes, sound for going, though not decorative 
to look at. From a distance it looked as if she was walking on stilts, 
especially as her wooden shoes had a peculiar shape, worn down almost 
to the ground at the heels and yet like new as to the toes. The latter 
were therefore higher, so that the foot had the appearance of being 
merely a part of the leg, flattened out hurriedly and turned up to 
order, nothing more, no unnecessary fuss about the ankle or anythino- 
of that sort. ‘ J & 
She now came into the garden. 
I v onder if my hen hasn t come in here,” she said with a guttural 
sound like the note of a duck. When she felt abashed, she always 
croaked worse than usual. 
She was now for the first time honored with a look. 
• “Aye, that she has. And I’ve knocked the leg offen ’er. She’s 
lying in that tub of brush, where you can hunt for her yourself.” 
Mothei Malena looked at him dumfounded a moment ; it was 
almost impossible to believe him. 
| ve pf 011 standing there indifferent, smoking as before, except 
that a glance of spiteful enjoyment stole out at her from under his 
naif-lowered eyelids. 
A o, if you ve ta en the life, you can take the carcass,” she then 
answered with the high majesty of grief, and left the yard. 
The seed of dissension was now removed, and there should now 
have been peace in the poor-house. Peace, indeed, there was, but it 
was the desolate calm of melancholy. Mother Malena talked to no 
one; with bitterness of spirit she bore her sorrow alone. The boy in 
the slippery trousers went about purposelessly and didn’t know what 
to be at; he had lost his favorite society. It was as if a member of a 
