Trafika Europe 1 - Northern Idyll
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.
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