Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1906-06-22
MAMMA.
ALFRED OF HEDENSTJERNA.
TRANSLATED from the Swedish by MyE


days had passed quickly. For several
years she mad been a widow, and al
though she was only So years old, she
had a daughter just Is. A most unhappy
marriage, and the subsequent death OF
her husband, following an accident which
public opinion held to be suicide. had left
gloomy, indelible impressions upon the
heart and soul of Mrs. Borg; but, strange
as it may seem, her face bore not a trace
Of them.
When one saw her and learned her
story, ones thoughts involuntarily
scared to those heights where the tran
STORY masquerades as the immortal Her
large brown eyes, which had wept bitter
tears during her married life, were spark
ling and clear; even the pupil showed
no languor. Her tender, beautiful skin
was like that of a young girl, in spite
of the fact that after stormy scene with
her husband one morning her cheeks had
streamed with blood. She still possessed
graceful and easy carriage which gave
an indescribable charm and elasticity to
her shapely figure, although she often
had been obliged to flee barefooted to the
attic through cold corridors in order to
escape the threatening hand of her raw
inc. senseless, drunken husband.
There was scarcely an indignity which
she had not suffered and the only pleas
ure she had was her child.
Even her childhood was sad. Or
phaned at an early age, she was reared
by distant relatives in a gloomy house,
soon as possible this poor young thing
10 he ho
peared to be the best possible match.
Then the life and death struggle between
her strange husband and herself began.
The second evening after her marriage
she was rudely pushed aside as she
wished to restrain her husband from
striking the coachman. Her struggles
with him were continuous, and finally
ended eleven years later, when his very
spirited horse dragged him home, his
face horribly mangled from the stones
in the road, but his foot still in the stir
rup. People said he had taken poison
while riding, in order to give his death a
double meaning, which perhaps was the
only time that Charles Borg did any
thing for the sake of public opinion.
Jenny had never loved. She had been
given to a husband. Her innocent soul
and quiet, cold nature never sought
refuge from her unhappy marriage in a
sinful passion or in a secret devotion to
any other man.
Jenny Borg decidedly repulsed those
fortune hunters who are always ready
to bestow consolation upon beautiful,
young and wealthy widow.
The poor little thing burnt her fingers
the first time" whispered the men.
Her culture and understanding made
it possible for her to enjoy the most ideal
pleasures, but her suffering had deprived
her of all taste for them. She grasped
things without feeling them, she under
stood things without being interested in
them. 1t seemed as though something
had died within her, except where her
daughter. her little Elvira, was con-
cerned. She was insensible to everything
else. Hungry for love, she idoliezd her
expecting to be repaid for all her pain;
she lived and breathed in the child, and
she felt were she to watch at Elvira's
sickDed for life or death. the loss of the
child would surmount everything which
she had hitherto endured.
When Elvie had finished the pension"
and been duly confirmed, she went trav-
cling with her mother to see what all the
world sees-the Dresden gallery, the
Rhine. the Donau, Vienna, Rome, Paris;
the Dresden gallery, Switzerland, the
Riviera, the Hartz mountains; the Ores
den gallery
There are many cultured people who
never get any further than the Dresden
gallery.
Madam Borg and her daughter had
been there for the fourth time. Heaven
knows how it happens, but the Dresden
gallery is always bobbing up before peo-
pie who are travelling on the continent.
One day, while standing in front of
picture, coniecturing and wondering
about certain point in it, the answer
to their question rang out behind them
in pure, clear Swedish.
On turning around they saw a long
gray coat. with one of their countrymen,
tall and gaunt, looking out of it. They
said, Thank you," and he said, Il beg
your pardon" and the acquaintance was
begun.
When Madam Borg looked out of the
hct2l window the next morning the world
presented a different appearance. The
grass and trees seemed greener, the sky
never was so blue, the people, too, looked
happier, and the Dresden street lrchins
appeared as charming little rascals.
At the breakfast table she hummed
melody from an opera which she had
heard in Vienna. Elvie. somewhat fright
ened, looked up. As she peered into her
mothers countenance she smiled. and
stretching out her hands to her, whis-
pered: What has happened to you to-
day. mamma? You have never been so
pretty before!"
Prof Wendell. whose acquaintance they
had made the day before, spent that en-
tire day with them as well as the day
following, and then their ways parted
They accidentally met again, some time
later in Rizza. On comparing their itin-
eraries they found them identical, so they
Travelled leisurely together for two or
+I,,.oo yvoaE-