My Sister's Journey To Modum

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Title:     My Sister's Journey To Modum
Author: Alexander Lange Kielland [More Titles by Kielland]

My sister was going to Modum. It was before the opening of the Drammen Railway, and it was a dreadfully long carriole drive from Christiania to Drammen.

But everything depended upon getting off--hyp--getting to Drammen--hyp, hyp--in time to catch the train which left for Modum at two o'clock. Hyp--oh, dear, if the train should be gone--to wait until next day--alone--in Drammen!

My sister stimulated the post-boys with drink-money, and the horses with small pokes of her umbrella; but both horses and post-boys were numerous upon this route, and much time was lost at the stopping-places.

First, the luggage had to be transferred to the new carriole. There were the big trunk and the little one, and the plaids with loosened strap, the umbrella, the en-tout-cas, the bouquet, and the book.

Then there was paying, and reckoning, and changing; and the purse was crammed so extraordinarily full that it would shower three-skilling pieces, [Footnote: Skilling, a halfpenny.] or a shining half-dollar would swing itself over the side, make a graceful curve, like a skater, round the floor, and disappear behind the stove. It had to be got out before it could be changed, and that nobody could do.

As soon as the fresh horses appeared in the yard, my sister would spring resolutely out, and swing herself into the carriole.

'Thanks; I am ready now. Let us be off. Good-bye.'

Yes, then they would all come running after her--the umbrella, the en-tout-cas, the plaids with loosened strap, the bouquet, and the book, everything would be thrown into her lap, and she would hold on to them until the next station was reached, while the station-master's honest wife stood and feebly waved the young lady's pocket-handkerchief, in a manner which could not possibly attract her attention.

Although she thus lost no time, the drive was, nevertheless, extremely trying, and it was a great relief to my sister when she at length rattled down the hill from Gjelleboek, and saw Drammen extended below her. There were not many minutes left.

At last she was down in the town. 'In Drammen, in Drammen!' muttered my sister, beginning to triumph. Like a fire-engine she dashed along the streets to the station. Everything was paid. She had only to jump out of the carriole; but when she looked up at the station clock, the minute-hand was just passing the number twelve.

Undismayed, my sister collected her knick-knacks and rushed into the waiting-room, which was quite empty. But the young man who had sold the tickets, and who was in the act of drawing down the panel, caught a glimpse of this belated lady, and was good-natured enough to wait.

'A ticket--for Heaven's sake! A ticket for Drammen! What does it cost?'

'Where are you going, miss?' asked the good-natured young man.

'To Drammen--do you hear? But do make haste. I am sure the train will be gone.'

'But, miss,' said the young man, with a modest smile, 'you are in Drammen.'

'Ah! I beg your pardon. Yes, so I am; it is to Modum, to Modum that I want to go.'

She received her ticket, filled her lap with her things, and, purse in mouth, hurried out upon the platform.

She was instantly seized by powerful hands, lifted off the ground, and tenderly deposited in a coupé.

'Puff,' said the locomotive impatiently, beginning to strain at the carriages.

My sister leant back on the velvet sofa, happy and triumphant; she had been in time. Before her, upon the other sofa, she had all her dear little things, which seemed to lie and smile at her--the bouquet and the book, the en-tout-cas and the umbrella, and the very plaids, with the strap completely unfastened.

Then, as the train slowly began to glide out of the station, she heard the footstep of a man--rap, rap--of a man running--rap, rap, rap--running on the platform alongside the train; and although, of course, it did not concern her, still she would see what he was running for.

But no sooner did my sister's head become visible than the running man waved his arms and cried:

'There she is, there she is--the young lady who came last! Where shall we send your luggage?'

Then my sister cried in a loud and firm voice:

'To Drammen!'

And with these words she was whirled away.

[The end]
Alexander Lange Kielland's short story: My Sister's Journey To Modum

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