# Mårbacka/Part 5, Chapter 2

The undergraduates at the Gymnasium of Karlstad had been unusually quiet in the beginning of the autumn semester. They had not started any fights with the street boys, or been up to any other deviltry. The whole city was surprised, pleased, and thankful, though no doubt people felt at the same time that something was lacking.
Then, as it drew on toward autumn Fair-time, when folk from all parts of Värmland were coming to the capital of the province, the students felt they must do something to maintain their reputation. Now it was not merely a question of Karlstad, but of all Värmland. After due deliberation, when various propositions had been presented and rejected, a schoolboy named Fredrik Sandberg was summoned to appear before the collegians.
Fredrik Sandberg obeyed orders, of course, for in those days it never would have done for the schoolboys to defy the collegians, who were their overlords. Nor would it have been well for the one who attempted to evade a summons from that quarter!
When Fredrik came the students togged him out ​in frilled shirt and stock, satin waistcoat of large flowered pattern, gray trousers with foot-straps, blue swallow-tail coat with silver buttons, and patent leather shoes. His hair was then curled, and arranged in a forelock, gloves and walking stick were put into his hands, and a tall stove-pipe hat with curved brim topped it all.
If only Fredrik Sandberg had not been so small that the trousers hung in pleats, the coat tails almost trailed on the ground, and the hat went down on his ears, he would have been as fine a dandy as ever trod a city street. Thus arrayed, he was ordered off to Mamselle Brorström's.
When Fredrik Sandberg entered the attic room where Mamselle Brorström lived, he found her standing before her tile-stove making waffles. Her attire was a bit so-so—just a petticoat and undervest. The little schoolboy thought to himself that never had he seen such arms and legs, such hands and feet, and such a torso!
"My name is Fredrik Sandberg," he said by way of introduction, "and I would most humbly beg that I may be permitted to invite Mamselle Brorström to the Fair Ball at the Masonic Lodge."
Mamselle Brorström was not exactly what would be termed "in society," and had surely never thought of going to a fair ball. But now, being invited by an elegant cavalier, she could hardly refuse. So, curtsying to Fredrik Sandberg, she thanked him and said she ​felt highly honoured, and would be most happy to attend the ball.
The boy was pleased at being so well received, for it might have turned out quite otherwise. He ran back to the students as quickly as possible, and reported all that had taken place.
A week later Fredrik Sandberg was again ordered to appear before the collegians, and again dressed up as before, and sent to Mamselle Brorström.
This time he found her standing before her looking-glass trying on a red tulle dress. Her neck and arms were bare and she turned and twisted impatiently, apparently in a dreadful humour.
The little boy stared at the huge woman, who was twice as tall as he, twice as broad, and twice as strong. He gazed at the thick arms sticking out from the sleeveless red tulle bodice, and the enormous legs showing below the short skirts; he looked at her coarse face, copper-coloured from constant exposure to fire—for she was always making waffles—and he looked at her black tousled hair standing out like a bush round her head; he saw the fiery gleam in her blood-shot eyes and heard the thundering tones of her raucous voice. The boy wanted to cut and run, but having been sent there by the college students and knowing what disobedience to that authority meant, he bowed to Mamselle Brorström, and said:
"I most humbly beg that I may have the pleasure of the first waltz at the Fair Ball."
​Mamselle Brorström had been rather repentant and thoughtful that morning, and had wondered if she really ought to go to the ball. She would no doubt have put all thought of it out of her mind if Fredrik Sandberg had not come and begged for the first waltz. But now that she was certain of a dancing partner she was again in good humour. She assured Fredrik Sandberg that she felt both favoured and honoured, and that nothing would afford her greater pleasure than to let him dance with her.
That was the very day of the ball. And in the evening Mamselle Brorström, arrayed in her red tulle dress (than which nothing could be prettier, she thought) appeared at the Masonic Lodge among Karlstaders and Fair visitors. Stalking through the ladies' dressing room into the grand ballroom, she sat herself down on one of the small cushioned seats along the wall.
People stared, but she did not mind. Having been invited, she had as good a right as any one else to dance at the Fair Ball. She noticed that the other ladies all had acquaintances to chat with, but this did not trouble her; when once the music struck up for the dance, they'd see that she had as fine a partner as any of them.
The regiment band began to play. She saw the foundry clerks step up to the founderers' daughters, the lieutenants to the officers' ladies, and the shop clerks to the shopkeepers' girls—each took his partner. Soon everyone was on the floor whirling round—everyone ​except Mamselle Brorström, who sat waiting for Fredrik Sandberg.
The collegians were on the platform with the musicians. They had a good view of Mamselle Brorström in her red tulle, sitting all alone in the middle of the long row of wall seats, where the one she was waiting for might easily find her.
The wife of the Governor put up her lorgnette and wondered who that large, conspicuous looking woman was. The daughters of the founderers stuck up their noses at her, while the young ladies of the nobility marvelled that a person of that sort should come to a Fair Ball.
Mamselle Brorström meanwhile remained seated in the one place. Fredrik Sandberg did not put in an appearance and no one else seemed to think of asking her to dance. There was a supper, and after that more dancing. The fine folk were now leaving and the gentlemen began to look a bit flushed; but Mamselle Brorström still sat on.
Then at last Tanner Grunder stepped up and asked for a polka.
"'Tis high time!" said Mamselle Brorström in a voice loud enough to be heard all over the ballroom. And those words became a catch phrase in Värmland.
The tanner had been in a side room playing cards the whole evening, and had just come out for a little spin. As she was the only lady disengaged he naturally went over to her—not knowing, of course, her state of mind.
​As Mamselle Brorström stood up to fling herself into the dizzy whirl, Tanner Grunder, to be polite and obliging, said:
"What is Mamselle Brorström's pleasure—to dance forward or backward?"
"'Tis all one to me just so it goes," she answered.
This, too, was heard all over the hall, and those words also became a saying in Värmland.
The day after the ball Fredrik Sandberg was again summoned by the collegians, and once again he was togged out and sent to Mamselle Brorström.
He found her standing by the stove, as usual, making waffles. That day she was not attired in red tulle but only in her petticoat and undervest. The schoolboy thought that never had he seen such a sour-looking face, such strong arms and formidable fists. The words he was to speak wanted to stick in his throat. But just outside the door stood three of the most dangerous collegians, and Fredrik knew what it would mean to get into the bad graces of the powers that be!
"I most humbly beg to know whether Mamselle Brorström had a pleasant time last evening at the ball," he said, and made a low bow.
How Fredrik Sandberg got out of the room, across the hall, down the stairs, and into the street, he never knew. Nor did the three collegians who had been lurking behind the door know how they had been assisted down the stairs. It was well they were there, so that ​Fredrik was not alone on this treat, which proved to be more than enough for them all.
This episode was imprinted indelibly in the mind of Lieutenant Lagerlöf, who at the time it occurred was a lad attending school at Karlstad. And of an evening, as he sat in his rocker, he would tell the tale to his children. Though he was himself the kindest and gentlest of men, the mad pranks of schoolboys were always a source of amusement to him.