Trafika Europe 1 - Northern Idyll
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When Løbner returned to Copenhagen, his heyday was

past, and, in this respect, he was no different than his

homeland. At this point, Denmark was a half-blind

geographical bagatelle located on the Øresund. The

Swedish had taken Norway, and even though Frederik VII’s

jurisdiction still included an area extending down to

Eideren, there were voices who demanded that both Slesvig

and Holsten join the new German Confederation. As a

result, it was in question how long Jutland would be still

called a Danish peninsula.

A smile tugged at fru Løbner’s lips and for a short moment

she resembled her peculiar nickname:



“Herring Head.”

“Now I know you,” she said, placing a hand on Old Tóvó’s

arm. “You’re Tórálvur from Geil.”

She gestured to the outer door and asked him to follow. On

the other side of the walk lay the county administrator’s

yard, and within it was the storehouse. She kept the key to

the padlock on a cord around her neck, and when she

opened the door, Old Tóvó put his hand to his heart.

Oh, what a beautiful sight! Several handsome barrels of

salted meat stood there on the floor. Besides whale meat

and blubber, she also had lamb and guillemots in brine. On

a trough sat some lightly salted mutton packed in white

cloth, and the shelves held several jars in which fru Løbner