Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel - Alexander Lange Kielland (best way to read ebooks txt) 📗

The

Stocks Was At Once His Joy And His Pride; He Crept All Over Her,  Inside

And Out,  Above And Below,  Scrutinizing Every Plank And Every Nail. At

Length He Had Begun To Have Quite A Knowledge Of The Art Of

Ship-Building,  And Had Gained The Friendship Of Tom Robson,  Anders

Begmand,  And The Other Shipwrights. The Ship Was To Be The Finest The

Town Had Yet Produced,  And When This Fact Came Into His Thoughts It

Almost Enabled Him To Forget His Burden Of Greek And Latin.

 

From Conversations He Had Partly Overheard At Home,  Gabriel Knew That

There Had Been A Difference Of Opinion Between His Father And Morten,

The Eldest Son,  Who Was A Partner In The Firm,  Ever Since The Building

Of This Ship Was First Mentioned.

 

Morten Maintained That They Ought To Buy An Iron Steamer In england,

Either On Their Own Account Or In Partnership With Some Of The Other

Houses Of The Town. He Insisted,  Particularly,  That The Time Could Not

Be Far Distant When Sailing Ships Would Be Entirely Superseded By

Steamers. But The Father Held By Sailing Ships On Principle; And,

Moreover,  The Idea That Garman And Worse Should Have Anything In common

With The Mushroom Houses Of The Town Was To Him Quite Unbearable. In The

End,  The Will Of The Elder Prevailed; The Ship Was Built Of Their Own

Materials,  In Their Own Ship-Yard,  And By The Workmen Who From

Generation To Generation Had Worked For Garman And Worse.

 

When Gabriel Reached The Point From Which He Could See Down Into The Bay

On Which Lay The Property Of Sandsgaard,  The Ship Was The First Thing

Which Caught His Eye. She Stood On The Slip Below The House,  And He

Could Not Help Remarking The Beauty Of Her Bow,  And The Elegant Rake Of

Her Stern. It Was The Dinner-Hour,  And All The Workmen Were Either At

Home,  In The Cottages Which Stretched Along The West Side Of The Bay,  Or

Lay Asleep Among The Shavings. As He Stood On The Crest Of The Rising

Ground,  Which Sloped Gradually Down Towards The Buildings,  And Gazed At

All These Dominions,  Which From Time Out Of Mind Had Belonged To Garman

And Worse,  Gabriel Became More And More Out Of Spirits.

 

There Lay The Old-Fashioned House,  With White Painted Walls,  And Its

Blue Slate Roof,  Which Was Adorned By Dormers And Gables. In Front Of

The House,  On Its Southern Side,  Lay The Garden,  With Its Paths And

Clipped Hedges,  And The Little Pond Half Overgrown By Sedge And Thick

Bushes. On The Northern Side,  Towards The Sea,  He Could Discern The

Carriage Drive,  And The Extensive Level Yard With The Ancient Lime Tree

Standing In The Middle Of It. Beyond That Came Four Warehouses Standing

In A Row,  All Painted Yellow,  With Brown Doors; And Further On Still,

Close Down To The Innermost Curve Of The Bay,  Was The Building-Yard.

Higher Up,  On The Road Which Led To The Southward Along The Coast,  Lay

The Farm,  As It Was Called. This Consisted Of A Byre,  The Bailiff'S

House,  And Other Buildings; For The Property Of Sandsgaard Was

Extensive,  And Comprised A Mill,  A Dairy,  And Such Like.

 

That Part Of The Property Had Never Had Much Interest For Gabriel,  But

All The Same,  If He Had Only Been Allowed To Be A Farmer,  He Could Have

Turned His Attention To Agriculture,  And Still Have Been Near The

Counting-House,  The Ships,  And The Sea; But He Was Destined For The

University,  And There Was No Possibility Of Escape.

 

It Was Not Easy To Persuade Consul Garman. His Father Had Brought Up His

Chapter 3 Pg 18

Elder Son To The Business,  And Sent The Younger To The University,  And

He Was Determined To Do The Same. The Thought Sometimes Occurred To The

Wilful Gabriel,  That Uncle Richard Had Had But A Poor Return From His

University Career,  But He Did Not Dare To Express His Thoughts Openly.

 

Mrs. Garman Believed Firmly That It Was Most Desirable,  As A Cure For

Self-Will,  That A Young Man Should Battle Against His Inclinations;

Nothing Could Be More Baneful Than Pampering The Flesh. No Help,  Then,

Was To Be Expected From Any Quarter.

 

Gabriel Was Sauntering Down The Alley,  Quite Crestfallen Under His Heavy

Burden Of Books,  When At Some Distance His Eye Caught Sight Of Some One

On Horseback,  Whom He Soon Recognized,  And Who Was Coming Along The Road

Behind The Farm. It Was Uncle Richard On Don Juan.

 

Gabriel Started Off At Once,  Forgetting In a Moment His Heavy Burden Of

Books And Care,  And Thinking Only On The Merriment And Good Cheer Which

Uncle Richard Always Brought With Him. He Determined To Hasten Off To

The Kitchen To Tell Miss Cordsen,  And Then To Go In To His Father; For

Gabriel Knew Well That The Bearer Of The News Of His Uncle'S Arrival Was

Always Welcome.

 

"Lord Save Us!" Cried Miss Cordsen. "Make Up The Fire,  Martha;" And Off

She Ran To Get A Clean Cap.

 

"All Right,  My Boy!" Said Consul Garman,  Giving Gabriel A Friendly Nod.

 

Gabriel Was Well Pleased At The Effect Of His Intelligence. He Had

Actually Surprised Miss Cordsen Into An Impropriety,  In Which He Seldom

Succeeded; And His Father,  Who Was Generally Undemonstrative,  Had

Greeted Him With More Than Usual Warmth.

 

The Young Consul,  As He Was Generally Called From The Time When His

Father,  The Old Consul,  Was Alive,  Was Not So Tall As His Younger

Brother,  And While The Latter Had Grown Stouter In The Course Of Years,

The Former Seemed To Have Got Thinner And Smaller. His Hair Was Smooth,

Thin,  And Slightly Grey,  Carefully Brushed So As To Make The Most Of It.

His Eyes Were Keen,  And Of A Light Blue Colour; And His Lower Jaw Was

Somewhat Prominent. Smoothly Shaved And Well Brushed,  With Stiff White

Neckcloth,  Shining Boots,  And Silver-Headed Cane,  There Was Something

About His Whole Appearance Which Told Of Prosperity. Every Word,  Every

Movement,  Even The Peculiarly Characteristic One With Which He Adjusted

His Chin In His Stiff Neckcloth,  Was The Picture Of Propriety And

Precision. Precision Was,  In Fact,  A Word Which Seemed Made For The

Young Consul; Both His Appearance And His Career Reflected It To The

Uttermost Fibre.

 

With His Extensive Business And Large Fortune,  Consul Garman Had Also

Inherited A Boundless Admiration And Respect For His Father,  Morten W.

Garman,  The Old Consul,  Who Had Come Into The Property Of Sandsgaard At

A Time When It Was Of Little Value,  And Considerably Encumbered By

Debts,  And When The Business Itself Was In Rather A Confused Condition.

In Order To Keep The Business Afloat During The Disastrous Years Of The

War,  Morten W. Garman Took Into Partnership A Rich Old Skipper,  By Name

Jacob Worse,  From Whence Sprang The Name Of The Firm. Thanks To Old

Chapter 3 Pg 19

Worse'S Money,  Life Came Again Into The Tottering Business,  And Garman'S

Great Ability Made The Firm,  In a Few Years,  One Of The Most Important

On The West Coast. But When Old Worse Died,  And His Son Took His Place

In The Firm,  It Was Soon Evident That Morten Garman And Young Worse

Would Not Be Able To Work Together. Under A Friendly Arrangement,

Therefore,  Worse Retired With A Considerable Fortune,  While Garman

Retained The Business And The Old Family Property Of Sandsgaard.

 

It Was From That Time That The Great Wealth Of The Garmans Really Dated,

While Worse In a Few Years Squandered His Money And Died Insolvent.

 

It Was Whispered That Worse Had Left The Business Rather Hastily,  Just

As The Good Times Were Beginning,  But That Was The Usual Luck Of The

Garmans.

 

At First It Looked As If Worse'S Widow And Son,  Who Carried On A Small

Business In The Town,  Would Work Themselves Up Again,  And This Was

Especially The Case In Recent Years. Whatever Might Be The Opinion As To

The Arrangement Between Garman And Worse,  No One Could Ever Accuse

Morten Garman Of Any Want Of Straightforwardness In His Business

Arrangements; And His Son Christian Frederick Followed Closely In His

Steps,  Observing Always The Maxim,  "What Would Father Have Done Under

The Circumstances?"

 

All Went On Thus Prosperously And Uniformly,  Until The Young Consul

Began To Get Old,  And His Elder Son Morten Came Home From Abroad And

Became A Partner In The Firm. From That Time Many Changes Showed

Themselves. The Son Had His Head Full Of New Foreign Ideas; He Was All

For Rushing About,  Writing And Telegraphing,  Ordering And

Counter-Ordering--A Course Of Action That Was Quite Foreign To Garman

And Worse'S Mode Of Procedure.

 

"Let Them Come To Us," Said The Consul.

 

"No,  My Dear Father," Answered Morten. "Don'T You See That The Times Are

Leaving You Behind? It'S Of No Use In These Days To Sit Still; You Must

Keep Your Eyes Open,  Or Else Run The Risk Of Losing The Best Of The

Business,  And Get Nothing But Just The Residue."

 

Morten So Far Prevailed That The Consul Was At Length Obliged To Let Him

Set Up An Office In The Town,  But Under His Own Name; For Garman And

Worse Were Still To Be Found Only At Sandsgaard,  And There Those Who

Wished To Do Business With The Firm Had To Betake Themselves.

 

Meanwhile A Considerable Amount Of Business Passed Through Morten'S

Office In The Town. This Did Not Altogether Please The Consul,  But He

Felt Bound To Uphold His Son,  Which Was What His Father Had Always Done,

And The Firm Thus Became Mixed Up In Many Transactions Which The Father

Would Never Have Cared To Enter Upon.

 

To The Clerks The Young Consul Was A Being Of Quite Another Sphere.

Every Head Was Bowed To Him Whenever He Passed Through The Office,  And

Each One Seemed To Feel That The Cold Blue Eyes Penetrated Everything

And Everywhere--Books,  Accounts,  And Letters,  Even Into Their Own

Private Secrets. It Was Believed That He Knew Every Page In The Ledger,

And That He Could Quote Intricate Accounts,  Column By Column,  And If

There Was Even The Slightest Irregularity To Be Found Anywhere,  They

Chapter 3 Pg 20

Would Wager That It Could Not Escape The Young Consul'S Eye. The General

Conviction Was,  That If Every Creditor Of The Firm,  Or Even The Devil

Himself,  Should Some Day Take It Into His Head To Come Into The Office,

There Would Not Be Found Even The Slightest Error In One Of The

Ponderous And Well-Bound Account Books.

 

There Was,  However,  One Account Which Was A Sealed Book To Them