Голод
Part I
WhereintheworldshallIfindashelterforthenight?
WasthereaholetobefoundwhereIcouldcreepinandhidemyselftillmorning?Myprideforbademyreturningtomylodging—besides,itcouldneverreallyoccurtometogobackonmyword;Irejectedthisthoughtwithgreatscorn,andIsmiledsuperciliouslyasIthoughtofthelittleredrocking-chair.Bysomeassociationofideas,Ifindmyselfsuddenlytransportedtoalarge,doubleroomIonceoccupiedinHaegdehaugen.Icouldseeatrayonthetable,filledwithgreatslicesofbread-and-butter.Thevisionchanged;itwastransformedintobeef—aseductivepieceofbeef—asnow-whitenapkin,breadinplenty,asilverfork.Thedooropened;entermylandlady,offeringmemoretea....
Visions;senselessdreams!ItellmyselfthatwereItogetfoodnowmyheadwouldbecomedizzyoncemore,feverwouldfillmybrain,andIwouldhavetofightagainagainstmanymadfancies.Icouldnotstomachfood,myinclinationdidnotliethatway;thatwaspeculiartome—anidiosyncrasyofmine.
Maybeasnightdrewonawaycouldbefoundtoprocureshelter.Therewasnohurry;attheworst,Icouldseekaplaceoutinthewoods.Ihadtheentireenvironsofthecityatmydisposal;asyet,therewasnodegreeofcoldworthspeakingofintheweather.
