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' my niece said; in fact, she said many thingsthat were very malicious but very amusing, but I won't mention them,for a man must be good-natured, and not a carping critic. But you willeasily perceive that when a man once knows the rights of the journeyto Amack, as I know them, it's quite natural that on the New Year'snight one should look out to see the wild chase go by. If in the NewYear I miss certain persons who used to be there, I am sure tonotice others who are new arrivals; but this year I omitted takingmy look at the guests, I bowled away on the boulders, rolled backthrough millions of years, and saw the stones break loose high up inthe north, saw them drifting about on icebergs, long before Noah's arkwas constructed, saw them sink down to the bottom of the sea, andre-appear with a sand-bank, with that one that peered forth from theflood and said, 'This shall be Zealand!' I saw them become thedwelling-place of birds that are unknown to us, and then become theseat of wild chiefs of whom we know nothing, until with their axesthey cut their Runic signs into a few of these stones, which then cameinto the calendar of time. But as for me, I had gone quite beyondall lapse of time, and had become a cipher and a nothing. Then threeor four beautiful falling stars came down, which cleared the air,and gave my thoughts another direction. You know what a falling staris, do you not? The learned men are not at all clear about it. Ihave my own ideas about shooting stars, as the common people in manyparts call them, and my idea is this: How often are silentthanksgivings offered up for one who has done a good and noble action!The thanks are often speechless, but they are not lost for all that. Ithink these thanks are caught up, and the sunbeams bring the silent,hidden thankfulness over the head of the benefactor; and if it be awhole people that has been expressing its gratitude through a longlapse of time, the thankfulness appears as a nosegay of flowers, andat length falls in the form of a shooting star over the good man'sgrave. I am always very much pleased when I see a shooting star,especially in the New Year's night, and then find out for whom thegift of gratitude was intended. Lately a gleaming star fell in thesouthwest, as a tribute of thanksgiving to many- many! 'For whom wasthat star intended?' thought I. It fell, no doubt, on the hill bythe Bay of Plensberg, where the Danebrog waves over the graves ofSchleppegrell, Lasloes, and their comrades. One star also fell inthe midst of the land, fell upon Soro, a flower on the grave ofHolberg, the thanks of the year from a great many - thanks for hischarming plays!
"It is a great and pleasant thought to know that a shooting starfalls upon our graves. On mine certainly none will fall- no sunbeambrings thanks to me, for here there is nothing worthy of thanks. Ishall not get the patent lacquer," said Ole, "for my fate on earthis only grease, after all."
SECOND VISIT
It was New Year's day, and I went up on the tower. Ole spoke ofthe toasts that were drunk on the transition from the Old Year intothe New- from one grave into the other, as he said. And he told me astory about the glasses, and this story had a very deep meaning. Itwas this:
"When on the New Year's night the clock strikes twelve, the peopleat the table rise up with full glasses in their hands, and drain theseglasses, and drink success to the New Year. They begin the year withthe glass in their hands; that is a good beginning for drunkards. Theybegin the New Year by going to bed, and that's a good beginning fordrones. Sleep is sure to play a great part in the New Year, and theglass likewise. Do you know what dwells in the glass?"
