DANISH FAIRY AND FOLK TALES
The thoughts pursue their course from one place to another, and Number 101 holds his head high, for he has paid his debts.
But in the centre of the whirling mass of thoughts there is one dark point which seems to frighten the thinker, like a vacuum horrifies nature. It seems possessed of a singular influence, both attractive and repulsive. The thoughts are afraid of this dark point, and yet they must approach it. Prisoner Number 101 buries his head in his two strong hands, but "visions come again" of things departed.
A woman in a ragged dress is standing on the market-place. She has sold her last lamb; baby's lambkin must change owner, that money might be procured. Even baby cannot live on her love for her sweet lambkin; even sweet baby healthy and fresh in her rags needs a crumb of bread now and then.
The poor woman sells her lamb, and her five thin fingers are eagerly seizing an equally thin roll of paper money. Tears rise in her eyes, as they came into a pair of blossom-blue ones at home when lambkin departed.
There is a rush of feet. Five strong fingers grasp the tiny roll of money with which lambkin was bought, and Prisoner Number 101 darts away into the crowd.
"Stop thief!"
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