knee-strap was a piece of undeniable reality in the midst of all his
imaginings; in two months it had taught him never quite to forget
who and where he was. He pulled himself together, and satisfied
himself that all his miseries arose from his labors over this
wretched cobbler's wax; besides, there was such a temptation to
compare his puddle of cobbler's wax with the hell in which he was
told he would be tormented. But then he heard the cheerful voice
of the young shoemaker in the yard outside, and the whole trouble
disappeared. The "ordeal by wax" could not really be so terrible,
since all the others had undergone it--he had certainly seen tougher
fellows than these in his lifetime!

Jens sat down and ducked his head, as though he was expecting a box
on the ears;--that was the curse of the house which continually
hung over him. He was so slow at his work that already Pelle could
overtake him; there was something inside him that seemed to hamper
his movements like a sort of spell. But Peter and Emil were smart
fellows--only they were always wanting to thrash him.

Among the apple trees in the yard it was early summer, and close
under the workshop windows the pig stood smacking at his food. This
sound was like a warm breeze that blew over Pelle's heart. Since the
day when Klaus Hermann had shaken the squeaking little porker out
of his sack, Pelle had begun to take root. It had squealed at first
in a most desolate manner, and something of Pelle's own feeling of
loneliness was taken away from him by its cries. Now it complained
simply because it was badly fed, and it made Pelle quite furious to
see the nasty trash that was thrown to it--a young pig must eat well,
that is half the battle. They ought not to go running out every few
minute to throw something or other to the pig; when once the heat