The teacher didn't hurry himself; but then he did not know, of course,
that a poor little creature lay shut up in a botanist's box, and only
waited for him to get through. When they came to a room with gilded
leather hangings, he talked to them about how the people had dressed
their walls and ceilings ever since the beginning of time. And when he
came to an old family portrait, he told them all about the different
changes in dress. And in the banquet halls he described ancient customs
of celebrating weddings and funerals.
Thereupon, the teacher talked a little about the excellent men and women
who had lived in the castle; about the old Brahes, and the old
Barnekows; of Christian Barnekow, who had given his horse to the king to
help him escape; of Margareta Ascheberg who had been married to Kjell
Barnekow and who, when a widow, had managed the estates and the whole
district for fifty-three years; of banker Hageman, a farmer's son from
Vittskoevle, who had grown so rich that he had bought the entire estate;
about the Stjernsvaerds, who had given the people of Skane better
ploughs, which enabled them to discard the ridiculous old wooden ploughs
that three oxen were hardly able to drag. During all this, the boy lay
still. If he had ever been mischievous and shut the cellar door on his
father or mother, he understood now how they had felt; for it was hours
and hours before that teacher got through.
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