Invisible Links

THE SPIRIT OF FASTING AND PETTER NORD

I

I can see before me the little town, friendly as a home. It is so small that Iknow its every hole and corner, am friends with all the children and know thename of every one of its dogs. Who ever walked up the street knew to whichwindow he must raise his eyes to see a lovely face behind the panes, and whoever strolled through the town park knew well whither he should turn his stepsto meet the one he wished to meet.

One was as proud of the beautiful roses in the garden of a neighbor, as if theyhad grown in one’s own. If anything mean or vulgar was done, it was asgreat a shame as if it had happened in one’s own family; but at thesmallest adventure, at a fire or a fight in the market-place, one swelled withpride and said: “Only see what a community! Do such things ever happenanywhere else? What a wonderful town!”

In my beloved town nothing ever changes. If I ever come there again, I shallfind the same houses and shops that I knew of old; the same holes in thepavements will cause my downfall; the same stiff hedges of lindens, the sameclipped lilac bushes will captivate my fascinated gaze. Again shall I see theold Mayor who rules the whole town walking down the street with elephantinetread. What a feeling of security there is in knowing that you are walkingthere! And deaf old Halfvorson will still be digging in his garden, while hiseyes, clear as water, stare and wander as if they would say: “We haveinvestigated everything, everything; now, earth, we will bore down to your verycentre.”

But one who will not still be there is little, round Petter Nord: the littlefellow from Värmland, you know, who was in Halfvorson’s shop; he whoamused the customers with his small mechanical inventions and his white mice.There is a long story about him. There are stories to be told about everythingand everybody in the town. Nowhere else do such wonderful things happen.

He was a peasant boy, little Petter Nord. He was short and round; he wasbrown-eyed and smiling. His hair was paler than birch leaves in the autumn; hischeeks

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