Late one Saturday evening in the beginning of January 1843, there was a knock on the door at parish trustee Jonas Olson?s farmhouse in Ina village, in southern Helsingland. When Jonas opened, there stood a scraggy man of medium height ? with palish face, thin lips, and unusually big and wide front teeth in his upper jaw. He had blue eyes and brown hair. He was 34 years old, a farmer from Österunda parish some 50 miles north west of Stockholm. His name was Erik Janson. Janson had his horse and carriage waiting in the court yard. On his wagon ? his farmhand and sacks filled with flour. Janson asked with a low and hoarse voice for overnight lodging. He had travelled 140 miles north to sell his wheat flour in Helsingland, where farmers were used to growing rye and barley. Wheat flour was a rare luxury. Jonas muttered incredulously, and expressed his surprise that ?nothing good could come from...
Visa mer
Recensioner
Bli först med att recensera denna bok
