Since Ulrika of Västergöhl had married the Baptist minister Mr. Henry O. Jackson and moved to Stillwater, Kristina had no intimate friends in the neighborhood. Ulrika’s visits were infrequent. Kristina herself was tied to her home by her own children and she hesitated to visit Ulrika because of the long and difficult road to Stillwater. In two years she had only once been to see Ulrika in her new home. That had been a winter day, and she had ridden with Uncle Danjel on his ox sled. It had been miserably cold, and in spite of all the clothing she had bundled around herself, she had felt as if she was sitting naked on the sled. They had brought along warm stones for their feet and had stopped several times on the way to rewarm them. Even so Kristina still had a frostbitten toe as a reminder of her visit to Stillwater on the slow ox sled.
During the last year, however, the lumber company had cut a new road all the way to Ki-Chi-Saga. Now the settlers could get a ride on the company’s ox wagons, and when Kristina decided to journey to Stillwater this spring, she decided to use this transportation. Her errand was partly to visit Ulrika and partly to buy necessities. During the winter she had stopped suckling Dan. She now had no child at her breast, and as Karl Oskar could feed the little one, she could stay overnight with Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.
One pleasantly mild spring day she set out on the ox wagon to Stillwater. During this journey she had no need for warm stones, today she need not worry about getting her toes frostbitten as she sat on the wagon. The sun had warmed the forest, which seemed friendly and inviting along the newly cut road. And the company’s ox wagon rolled steadily on its heavy, iron-bound wheels, quite different from the settlers’ primitive jolting carts. Today Kristina traveled in comfort; the ride was a pleasure rather than an ordeal.
The Baptist congregation in Stillwater had built a new house for their pastor, next to the little white timbered structure that served as the church. Ulrika saw Kristina through the window and came out on the stoop to welcome her. On her arm Kristina carried the lidded shingle basket which she had brought from Sweden.
“I can see you’re out on big business,” said Ulrika. “But first you must have something in your belly!”
Pastor Jackson’s house had one large and one smaller room, a good-sized kitchen with a storeroom, and an ample cellar under the house. The large room was used only during the day; Ulrika sometimes called it the sitting room and again the living room. The smaller room was a bedroom and in it stood the largest bed Kristina had ever seen; it was as broad as two ordinary beds put together. On the wall above the couple’s bed hung a framed picture with a maxim in gilded letters: The Lord Gives Us the Strength!
This house had one room for use all day long, and one for use at night, one room to sit in and one to lie down in! Since Ulrika of Västergöhl had become Mrs. Henry O. Jackson she lived like an upper-class woman.
Ulrika urged Kristina to sit down on the soft sofa in the living room. She wanted to show her something strange which she had acquired since Kristina’s previous visit. On the wall hung a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson as bride and groom, but it was not a painted picture of her and Henry, and that was the strange thing about it. She and Henry had been placed in the picture by an apparatus. It was like a miracle. Mr. Paul Hanley, a member of the Baptist congregation and now Elin’s employer, had bought the apparatus; he was one of the directors of the lumber company and a rich man; he wanted to have a picture of them in their bridal outfit. To take a photograph, he had called it. It was a new invention. They had stood in front of the machine, quite still, for a few moments, while Mr. Hanley had gone to the other side of it with a cloth over his head and manipulated something. And so, quite by magic, they had got their likenesses printed on a thick paper, as nice as any painted picture. And their likenesses did not scale off or fade away but had remained there on the wall, exactly as they were now, for a whole year. They would stick to the paper for all eternity, Mr. Hanley had told them.
Next to the groom, who wore a knee-long coat and narrow pants, stood Ulrika in her white bridal gown of muslin and a wide-brimmed hat, her very first hat.
Below the picture of the bridal couple, a notice from the St. Paul Pioneer was cut out and glued to the wall. The paper had printed a piece about the Jackson wedding:
Baptist Church Is Scene of First Wedding
The first marriage in the history of the Stillwater Baptist Church took place Saturday, when Miss Ulrika of Vastergohl became the bride of the Reverend Henry O. Jackson, minister of the Baptist congregation. The bride belongs to the very old noble family of
Vastergohl
in Sweden.
The Reverend R. E. Arleigh who teaches at Bethel Seminary in St. Paul read the service.
Attendants were Cora Skalrud, bridesmaid; Betty Jean Prescott, maid of honor; Paul Hanley and Bob Orville, both best men.
A reception at the new home of Mr. and Mrs. Henry O. Jackson in Stillwater followed the ceremony.
Ulrika translated for Kristina, telling her that the man who had come to write about the wedding for the Pioneer had asked her if she belonged to a noble family in Sweden. The Swedes he had met previously in America had all been counts and barons. But she had felt that her ancestry was none of his business, and to his rude question she had, of course, replied that she came from such an old noble family that it could be traced back to the time when Father Adam and Mother Eve walked about with their behinds bare in Paradise. Whether it was because of her English, which wasn’t quite perfect yet, or because the writer had taken her seriously — whatever the reason — this writing man had printed in his paper that she had been born into an ancient noble family in Sweden.
And as she had been the first Swedish bride in the St. Croix Valley, it somehow seemed as if it were required of her to have a noble name. It was an honor to her homeland, perhaps. Anyway, it didn’t hurt her to be taken for a noble Swedish lady. The aristocratic ladies in Sweden were of course quite uppity, but as far as she knew they did not have bad reputations. And she didn’t feel their good names were besmirched when the paper raised her to noble status.
Ulrika prepared dinner for Kristina, sure that she was hungry after her long ride. She treated her to an omelet, warm from the oven, made of ten strictly fresh eggs which had been given to Henry for a sermon in Marine a few days ago.
“Henry is serving as priest in Franconia today,” said Ulrika. “He won’t be back until late. You must stay the night with us!”
“Come with me to the store and help me buy,” pleaded Kristina. “I can’t talk to the clerks.”
“I’ll be glad to be your interpreter, of course. But you must speak to Americans so you learn the language!”
Through her marriage to an American, Ulrika had become so familiar with English that she could understand it well and equally well make herself understood.
Kristina knew the meaning of a few English words but never tried to say anything in the foreign language. She was afraid of ridicule; the Americans laughed at the clumsy Swedes who attempted to use English. But Karl Oskar paid no attention, he just talked on.
“There’s something in this tongue that stops me,” she would say.
“Nothing except inexperience,” he would reply.
But when she wanted to use the English words she had to twist and turn her lips and loosen her tongue, insisted Kristina. She felt as if she were playacting, making a fool of herself, when she used English. Her tongue was not made for this strange language. And if she listened to others speaking it, she got a headache; it did not suit her ears either.
“Let’s go and get the shopping done with,” said Ulrika.