Ulrika told him about her husband’s sickness and death and her life as a widow. She wanted to do good with the money the Lord had granted her so undeservedly, and with some of it she had started a home for illegitimate children, where they would receive kind treatment. It had cost her a lot and when people asked why she had done it she would reply that she herself had borne four bastards in her homeland, three of whom had died in tender years from undernourishment. But everyone laughed at this and took it for a joke.
“But your American children are getting along well?”
Yes, indeed, the three daughters she had borne to Pastor Jackson had brought her much happiness. They had all married well. But the boy — well, she didn’t even want to talk about her son.
Suddenly a flash of anger came over her face.
Karl Oskar asked, “Is something wrong with your boy?”
“He doesn’t want to be a priest, the bastard!”
Karl Oskar was well aware of the resolution the unmarried Ulrika of Västergöhl had made at the time of her emigration: She would show the clergy of Ljuder “whom they had stung” when they denied her Communion at the Lord’s table. She herself would bear a clergyman.
“Can you imagine that lout, Karl Oskar! He refuses holy orders!”
Red roses bloomed on Ulrika’s cheeks as she continued. They had put Henry Jr. in the Baptist seminary, but he ran away. He didn’t want to serve as a priest in any church, he didn’t even want to go to church or listen to a minister, not even his own father. What could you do with such an obstreperous, snooty child? The boy was so shameless he wouldn’t even listen to the Lord’s Word. Now he was sixteen, yet he would receive neither baptism nor confirmation, not in any kind of church, be it Baptist, Methodist, or Lutheran. She had borne into this world a hardened heathen.
“Does your son live with you?”
“No, he’s away. He travels about.”
And Ulrika again sighed deeply. Only with effort could she go on. “My son is an animal trainer.”
“What did you say?” Her guest was astonished.
“Yea — Henry Jr. travels with a circus.”
Last spring a circus had come to Stillwater, with Arabs, Bedouins, mules, apes, and other monsters, as well as wild bears, lions, and leopards. Junior took a job with the circus, currying horses and shoveling dung after lions and bears for five dollars a week and his keep. He went with the circus when it departed. Last time he wrote he had been in Chicago. He was now almost a fully qualified animal trainer. In a few weeks he would take his animal trainer examination and would graduate, he wrote.
Her only son — carrying on in a circus arena, instead of preaching the Lord’s Word from a pulpit! Instead of becoming a priest he was a jester, a fool, at fairs — instead of taming sinful people he was taming wild beasts!
No son born of woman had brought his mother a more cruel sorrow than Henry Jr. She had been denied the birth of a priest.
Karl Oskar looked out over the St. Croix River just as a steamer glided by. It had a high funnel with smoke belching out in gray clouds. The lower deck was piled high with wood — fuel for the engine. In the stern the huge wheel paddled like a river monster that had got caught on a hook. The upper deck was loaded with barrels of flour, for the paddleboat carried a cargo of wheat flour. The settlers of Minnesota were already growing more wheat than they consumed; already they supplied other countries with bread.
“Have some more wine!” And Ulrika filled the glasses. “How are things with you, Karl Oskar?”
“You know. Half of me died with Kristina. .”
“I reckoned as much. .”
“In other respects all is well. Except my old leg kicks up at times.”
“Your injury? Have you tried Blood-Renewer for it? You can get it at Turner’s Drug Store.”
She opened a cupboard and took out a bottle: Sweet’s Blood-Renewer heals Scrofula, Aches, Stomach Fever, Chest Fever, Headache, All Female Weakness, and All Sicknesses Caused by Bad Blood.
Ulrika was convinced that Karl Oskar’s pain was caused by impurity in the blood: “The Blood-Renewer helps me when my old legs ache!”
Karl Oskar wondered to himself how old Ulrika of Västergöhl might be by now. She must be over sixty. She had put on a little weight but this did not detract from her appearance; otherwise she looked as always.
And Ulrika wondered if he had reconciled himself with God. But her recollection of his behavior at their last meeting was still in her mind and she didn’t ask. She felt he was a little more mellow this time. Perhaps he couldn’t endure his own hatred for the Creator. And if he didn’t show some humility — God would surely bend him.
— 3—
Ulrika persuaded Karl Oskar to stay for dinner.
They spoke of the old country. Ulrika had never written any letters to Sweden and never received any. She did have relatives at home but they had never wanted to have anything to do with her. Karl Oskar wrote once a year to his sister Lydia and received letters in return, and he gave Ulrika the latest news.
Mrs. Jackson showed him a copy of Hemlandet and pointed to a notice. An emigrant from Ljuder had presented a bridal crown to the village church. Who might the donor be? Could it be someone in the St. Croix Valley?
Karl Oskar picked up the paper and read:
“The parish of Ljuder, Småland, has recently received a valuable gift from North America, given by an emigrant from the parish — a beautifully wrought, highly valuable bridal crown of silver, the finest obtainable. The crown, according to the donor’s instructions, is to be worn at church weddings but only by brides known for chastity and decent living. This valuable church jewel will be used for the first time this Whitsuntide, when Anna Ottilia Davidsson, an upright and modest virgin, the granddaughter of Per Persson in Åkerby, will be married to Karl Alexander Olofsson from Kärragärde.
“The donor of the crown, now living in North America, wishes to remain anonymous. She was a member of Ljuder parish before her emigration some years ago. The silver crown is in expression of gratitude and appreciation of her native village.
“Honor to each emigrant who remembers his old country and shows his gratitude in this way!”
Karl Oskar folded the paper. “I wonder who it might be?”
“I guessed you,” said Ulrika.
Karl Oskar laughed. “No — it must be someone else, someone who is rich.”
“Why? The crown needn’t be so expensive.”
“It’s made of silver.”
“Silver isn’t expensive in America.”
Karl Oskar read the notice again. “The giver doesn’t want his name known — I wonder why? I wonder how much it cost?”
“How much do you guess?”
“I couldn’t try!”
“One guess!”
Now Karl Oskar noticed something sly and mocking in her remarks. A suspicion was born in him and it was confirmed before he had time to say anything more.
“The crown cost nine hundred dollars!”
Karl Oskar started from the chair. “How in all the. .”
“Yes, nine hundred dollars. Cheap for cash!”
“You, Ulrika! You gave it!”
“Yes, of course!”
Mrs. Henry O. Jackson folded her arms over her ample bosom and enjoyed Karl Oskar’s look of surprise. He just sat there and stared at her, utterly astonished. She laughed with great exuberance and it echoed through the house. In this moment, when teasing Karl Oskar, she was again the old Glad One.
“You fooled me, Ulrika.”
“I thought you’d guess at once!”
“It didn’t enter my head you were so rich you could give away silver crowns!”
“I bought the bridal crown in Chicago last winter. It’s covered with precious stones, it glittered so I couldn’t take my eyes off it.”