Then he rose, and, with a
wave of his hand to Clement, walked away. Clement understood that the
one who had been talking to him was a great man, and he bowed to him as
low as he could.
The next day came a royal lackey with a big red book and a letter for
Clement, and in the letter it said that the book was from the King.
After that the little old man, Clement Larsson, was lightheaded for
several days, and it was impossible to get a sensible word out of him.
When a week had gone by, he went to the superintendent and gave in his
notice. He simply had to go home.
"Why must you go home? Can't you learn to be content here?" asked the
doctor.
"Oh, I'm contented here," said Clement. "That matter troubles me no
longer, but I must go home all the same."
Clement was quite perturbed because the King had said that he should
learn all about Stockholm and be happy there. But he could not rest
until he had told every one at home that the King had said those words
to him. He could not renounce the idea of standing on the church knoll
at home and telling high and low that the King had been so kind to him,
that he had sat beside him on the bench, and had sent him a book, and
had taken the time to talk to him--a poor fiddler--for a whole hour, in
order to cure him of his homesickness. It was good to relate this to the
Laplanders and Dalecarlian peasant girls at Skansen, but what was that
compared to being able to tell of it at home?
Even if Clement were to end in the poorhouse, it wouldn't be so hard
after this.
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