Table of Contents Table of Contents
Previous Page  54 / 238 Next Page
Information
Show Menu
Previous Page 54 / 238 Next Page
Page Background

54

had been sent by the Devil, and at night, when everyone

was sleeping, Tóvó was going to set fire to every chicken in

town.

His father was astonished at the strength of his son’s

reaction. He had never seen Tóvó stand there and stomp

and shake his fists. The boy was only six, but the way he was

carrying on, he resembled a raging dwarf. Tóvó put his arms

around Mogul’s neck and said that he would never let go.

For a moment, Martimann considered the situation. He

knew how much the boy loved the dog, and if he shot it, his

son would undoubtedly see him as an enemy for a long time

to come.

He could take fru Løbner some fish in exchange for the

mauled hen, she would probably accept that. And it was

such a sweet picture: Tóvó sobbing with his arms around

Mogul’s neck, while the dog sat inquiringly on its hind legs.

Martimann loosened the rope, but to show that he still had

some authority, he gave the dog a kick that sent it spinning

across the yard.

Tóvó continued to cry. He hated his father. Hoped a whale

would bite his arm off, or that a stone would come flying

through the air and strike him right between the eyes.