Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/50



Aha!—then why?

You see, they are so naughty, these boys. And then they say I can never be a soldier.

[With suppressed indignation.] Why do they say that, do you think?

I suppose they are jealous of me. For you know, Papa, they are so poor, they have to go about barefoot.

[Softly, with choking voice.] Oh, Rita—how it wrings my heart!

[Soothingly, rising.] There, there, there!

[Threateningly.] But these rascals shall soon find out who is the master down at the beach!

[Listening.] There is some one knocking.

Oh, I'm sure it's Borgheim!