She had been as strong as
a man, and had both ploughed and reaped. In the evenings, when she came
into the cowshed to milk, sometimes she was so tired that she wept. Then
she dashed away her tears, and was cheerful again. "It doesn't matter.
Good times are coming again for me too, if only my children grow up.
Yes, if they only grow up."
But as soon as the children were grown, a strange longing came over
them. They didn't want to stay at home, but went away to a strange
country. Their mother never got any help from them. A couple of her
children were married before they went away, and they had left their
children behind, in the old home. And now these children followed the
mistress in the cowshed, just as her own had done. They tended the cows,
and were fine, good folk. And, in the evenings, when the mistress was so
tired out that she could fall asleep in the middle of the milking, she
would rouse herself again to renewed courage by thinking of them. "Good
times are coming for me, too," said she--and shook off sleep--"when once
they are grown."
But when these children grew up, they went away to their parents in the
strange land. No one came back--no one stayed at home--the old mistress
was left alone on the farm.
Probably she had never asked them to remain with her. "Think you,
Roedlinna, that I would ask them to stay here with me, when they can go
out in the world and have things comfortable?" she would say as she
stood in the stall with the old cow.
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