Translated lovingly from Norwegian to English!

There was a time in Krarup Inn a girl named Karen.

She was alone in attentions; for chromium’s wife was almost always

around and looked for her keys. And there were many in Krarup Inn; – both people from

neighborhood, as assembled, when the dusk of the autumn evening and sat in the inn drinking

bevreges such, generally without any specific purpose, but also travelers and

wayfarers, who came tramping into the blue and windy, to get something hot, which could

keep life up to the next tavern.

But Karen could still do it all, although she was so quiet and never seemed

to be in a hurry.

She was slender and small – a young, serious and silent as it was no fun

by her for the traveling salesman. But decent people, who were hosted in earnest and

who liked the coffee servertes fast and scalding hot, they kept the more of

Karen. And when she slipped her way among the guests with its Board, drew heavy

tankards to the tables with unusual speed, it made way for her, and call

went out for a moment, everyone had to look after her, she was so beautiful.

Karen’s eyes were of the large gray, which at one time seemed to see and to look far – far

past, and his eyebrows were arched high as in amazement.

Therefore thought strange that she was not properly understood what they asked for. But she understood

well and was not mistaken. It was just something strange about her anyway – as if she saw

far out for something – or listening – or expected – or dreaming.

The wind came west of low plains. It had overturned a long, heavy waves

henover North Sea, salt and wet with foam and froth had it folded in over the coast.

But in the high Clits with the long nightmare was the straw was dry and full of sand and a little

tired, so when it came to Krarup Kro, it was just so far as it could get the gates up to

Travel stable.

But up until they, and the wind filled the large room and penetrated the kitchen door,

which stood ajar. And finally, it was such a pressure of air, the ports in the other end

of the stable also sprang up, and now the west wind came triumphantly through and through, swinging

lantern, which hung from the ceiling, took off his cap stable guy and rolled it out in the darkness, blew the curtains

over the heads of the horses, blew a white hen down the stick and into the water trough. And the cock

lifted a terrible squall, and the man swore, and chickens screamed, and the kitchen choked the

of smoke, and the horses became restless and struck sparks from the stones, even the ducks, which had pressed

together near the manger, to be the first to play corn, began to cackle, and

the wind roared through a hell alarm, until it came a couple of men from

krostuen, sat back against the doors and pushed them back together, while the sparks flew them in

beard from the major tobacco pipes.

After these achievements the wind threw himself down on the ground, ran along the deep ditches and

took a real hold of the mail cart, as it hit the half mile road from the inn.

“It was, however, a devilish jav he always has to come to Krarup Inn,” – growled

AndrÈ mail-man and struck a whack over the sweating horses.

For it was certainly the twentieth time that the postman had left the window go down, to shout

something up to him. First it was a friendly invitation to a cuppo coffee in

hosted, but gradually it became thinner with the friendly unit, and the window down with a

smell, and get out there a few brief remarks, both the horse and driver, as Anders

certainly not be served by hearing.

However, low wind areas along the ground and sighed so far and strange in

the dry heather bushes. It was full moon, but dense clouds, so it just was a whitish foggy

shear overnight.

Behind Krarup Inn lying peat bog dark with black turf shed and dangerous deep holes.

And in between lyngtuene winding it up a strip of grass, as if it could be a

way, but there was no way, for it stopped just at the edge of a peat burial, which was greater

than the other and deeper too.

But in gresstripen lay the fox rather flat and wondered, and the hare jumped on light feet above

heather.

It was easy for the fox to calculate that the hare would not run long ring late in the

evening. The stack careful the pointed nose up and did an estimate, and as it slunk

back following the wind, to find a good place from which it could see where the hare would

stop ring and lie down, thinking it myself comfortable over how reefs forever

become wiser and hares always stupider and stupider.

Inside the inn, it was unusually busy for a couple of commercial travelers had booked

hare roast; also had chrome on the other auction in Thisted, and the lady was not accustomed to

busy with other things than the kitchen. But now I hit it so, unfortunate that the solicitor should have

hold of chromium other, and when he was not at home, had to take a wife for a long message and

a very important letter, which completely confused her.

At the stove stood a strange man in the oil clothes and waited for a bottle of soda water; two

fish merchants had three times requisitioned brandy to coffee; chrome another man stood with

an empty lamp, and waited for a light, and a long dry farming man followed Karen anxious with

eyes: he was to have 63 cents left on a dime.

But Karen went to and from without to rush out and without confusion. One would

hardly believe that she could keep track of all this. The large eyes and the eyebrows wondering

seemed tense in anticipation, the small fine head, she kept a stiff and silent – that of not

to be disturbed in all she had to think about. Her blue each yarn dress was too tight

for her, so collar cut him a little in and formed a small fold of skin on the neck

below the hair.

“The agger girls are so white of skin,” said one fish buyer; they were young

and spoke of Karen as connoisseurs.

Her at the window was a man who looked at his watch and said: “The records will

Early in the evening. ”

The rumbling of rocks besides the bridge outside; gate to travel the stable waste up, and the wind

pulled back on all doors and beat the smoke out of the ovens.

Karen sneaked into the kitchen, in the same krod¯ren went up. Post The driver entered the

and greeted him good evening.

It was a tall, handsome man with dark eyes, black curly hair and a small mug

head. The long, rich mantle of king of Denmark’s beautiful red cloth was decorated

with a broad collar of the dog curled leather beyond the shoulders.

All the tarvelige light from the two kerosene lamps, which hung over krobordet, seemed to

Fold in love over the red color, which ran so well against all the gray and black

that was in the room. And the tall figure of the little curly head, the wide collar and

the long purple folder was – as he walked through the low, r¯kede krostue – a

marvel of beauty and splendor.

Karen came quickly from the kitchen with her tray, she bowed head, so you do not

could see her face as she hurried from guest to guest.

Hare taken placed her right in front of the two fish merchants, whereupon she brought a

bottle of soda water to the two commercial travelers, who sat in the living room inside. Then she gave the

concerned farmer man a candle, and as she was skipping out again, she put 63 ¯re (ore, Norwegian cents) in his hand

on the stranger by the stove.

Chromium else’s wife was quite desperate, she had apparently quite uformodet

found the keys, but immediately thereupon lost solicitor letter, and now the whole hosted in the

terrible move: no one had gotten what they should have, everyone cried, his mouth on each other, they

traveling salesman encircled uavladelig ineda table clock, fish buyers laughed almost

corrupted by the hare, who was written on the plate in front of them, but the concerned

peasant man cock lady on the shoulder with his candle, he trembled for his 63 ore. And in

all this hopeless confusion was Karen trace disappeared. —

– Anders postkar sat on the box; chrome else’s servant stood ready to open the gates;

the two travelers in the carriage was impatient, horses, too – though they had nothing to

look forward to, and the wind shook and whistled through the stable.

Finally post the guide, as they waited for. He carried his great cloak on her arm, then

He stepped over to the wagon and made a slight excuse, because we had expected.

Torch shone in his face, he seemed to be very hot, and it said he was also a

smile, as he pulled his cloak and went up with the coachman.

The gates went up and the mail cart rumbling along. Anders let the horses go slowly, now

had of course no hurry anymore. Occasionally, he glanced to the postman next, he was still

and smiling before him and let the wind pull his hair.

Anders postkar smiled also on his way, he began to understand. The wind came

Empty the road turned, folded thereupon again over the plain and whistled and sighed so far

and strange in the dry heather bushes. The fox was on his post, everything was on the n¯yeste

calculated; hare would soon be there.

Inside the inn was Karen finally appeared again, and the confusion subdued after

each. The worried farmer husband got rid of his light and got their 63 cents, and the

traveling salesman had grabbed the steak.

Madam kIynket a little, but she never scolded for Karen it was not the man

in the world who could scold Karen.

Quiet and without rush out she went again to and from, and the peaceful comfort, as

always accompanied her, spread again over the warm, dim krostue. But the two

fish traders, who had received both one and two cognacs of coffee, was quite taken with

her. She had color in his cheeks and a little half-hidden hint of a smile, and when she

easy once lifted his eyes, for the them through the entire body.

But when she felt their eyes followed her, she walked into the room, where they

traveling salesman sat and ate and began to blow over in a few teaspoons poured.

“Did you notice the postman?” – Asked one of the travelers.

“No – I only saw a glimpse of him, he was certainly right out again,” replied the

another with his mouth full of food.

“Satan’s beautiful guy! I have so men danced in his wedding. ”

“So – is he married?”

“Sure! – His wife live in Lemvig, they knew two kids. She was the daughter of

chromium in other Ulstrup, and I was just besides the wedding evening. It was a merry night – can

They believe! ”

Karen dropped teaspoons and walked out. She did not hear what they shouted at her in

krostuen; she walked across the yard to her room, shut the door and began half senseless to

arrange their bedding. Her eyes were rigid in the darkness, she took to her head, she took

his breast, – she groaned, she did not understand, – she did not understand —

But when she heard the woman so miserable cry: “Karen! – Bitten ‘Karen! “- When she ascended

up, out of the house, whether the back of the house, out – out into the pagan.

In the half light bent the little gresstripe between the brush, as if it could be

one way, but there was no way, no one would believe there was any way, for it brought just in the edge

of the large peat burial.

Haren started up, it had heard a splash. It slithered away as if it was crazy, i

long jump; soon contracted with his legs underneath him and bent his back, soon

extensive, very long – like a flying accordion – it jumped off the heather.

Fox put the pointed snout up and stared in astonishment after the hare. It had not

heard something splashing. For it had come after all art rules creeping on the bottom of a

deep trench, and when it was not some deliberate errors, it could not understand on the hare.

Long stood with his head up, abdomen and lowered the big bushy tail

hidden in the heather, and it began to ponder whether there are hares who are wiser, or

reefs that are stupid.

But when the west wind had run a long piece, it was the north wind, since the

east wind, thereupon to the south wind, and finally came the turn of the sea as the west wind,

threw himself into the Clits and sighed so far and strangely in the dry heather bushes. But when

lacked the two wondering gray eyes in Krarup Kro and a blue dress every yarn, which had been

too narrow. And Chrome’s wife whined more than ever, she could not understand it, —

no one could understand it, except Anders postkar – and one more. —

– But when the old people would give young people a real serious warning, caregiver to the

feel free to begin thus: “There was a time in Krarup Inn a girl named Karen -“