Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/279



And in consequence, friend, I may go as I came?

No, in consequence, friend, I must melt you up.

What tricks are these that you've hit upon At home here, while I've been in foreign parts?

The custom's as old as the Snake's creation; It's designed to prevent loss of good material. You've worked at the craft—you must know that often A casting turns out, to speak plainly, mere dross; The buttons, for instance, have sometimes no loop to them. What did you do then?

Flung the rubbish away.

Ah, yes; Jon Gynt was well known for a waster, So long as he'd aught left in wallet or purse. But Master, you see, he is thrifty, he is; And that is why he's so well-to-do. He flings nothing away as entirely worthless That can be made use of as raw material. Now, you were designed for a shining button On the vest of the world; but your loop gave way; So into the waste-box you needs must go, And then, as they phrase it, be merged in the mass.