Some of these pieces are highly witty and satirical. But the bonders are very averse to repeating them. One of them, on being asked by the student to repeat a stave, replied, “Ieg vil ikke være en Narr for Byen-folk:” (I won’t play the fool to amuse the city folks.)
Here is a specimen of one native to this part done into English.
_A._ Oh! fair is the sight to see, When the lads and the lasses are dancin’; The cuckoo, he calls from the tree, And the birds through the green wood are glancin’!
_B._ Oh! ’tis fair in Vining-town, When to kirk the lovers repair: Of other light need they have none, So light is the bride’s yellow hair.
_A._ Oh! fair is the sight I trow, When the bride the kirk goes in, No need of the torch’s glow, So bright is her cherry chin.[5]
_B._ Her neck’s like the driven snow, Her hair’s like the daffodil, Her eyes in their sockets glow, Like the sun rising over the hill.
The whole winds up with a description of the married life of the pair.
_A._ The cock he struts into the house, The bonder gives him corn, The flocks on the northern lea browse, And the shepherd he blows his horn.
_B._ The shepherd the mountain ascends, And the setting sun doth bide, As blithe, when night descends, As the bairns at merry Yule-tide.
A lone farm-house--A scandal against the God Thor--The headquarters of Scandinavian fairy lore--The legend of Dyrë Vo--A deep pool--A hint for alternate ploughboys--Wild goose geometry--A memorial of the good old times--Dutch falconers--Rough game afoot--Author hits two birds with one stone--Crosses the lake Totak--A slough of despond--An honest guide--A Norwegian militiaman--Rough lodgings--A night with the swallows--A trick of authorship--Yea or Nay.
At Kos-thveit, on the lake Totak, stands a lone farm-house, the proprietor of which procured me a man and a maid to row me over the dreary waters, now rendered drearier by a passing squall which overcast the sky. Pointing to the westward, where the lake narrowed, and receded under the shadows of the approaching mountains, the ferryman told me that yonder lay the famous Urebro Urden,[6] where the god Thor, when disguised by beer, lost his hammer, and cleared a road through the loose rocks while engaged in searching for it. Indeed, with the exception of Nissedal, in another part of Thelemarken, which is reputed as the head quarters of trolls and glamour, this gloomy lake and its vicinity abound, perhaps more than any part of Norway, in tales of Scandinavia’s ancient gods and supernatural beings. The man also mentioned the legend of Dyrë Vo, which has been put into verse by Welhaven.