The Bjäran

Herewith a contribution, "The History of Superstition." In my youth, it was customary for farm daughters and maids to invite one or two female friends for a week with the spinning wheel. Now, there was an older lady who had a reputation for having the "Bjäran," whose maid had invited a couple of other girls. It was also common for the local boys to appear on Sunday evening to gawk at and make acquaintances with the girls, which continued even after they had gone to bed. Often, the goddess of love would then bring together a young couple to share a night's lodging. I had a good eye for one of the invited girls, and once I was convinced that everyone else had left and I had crept into the girl's bed, a clattering and sound began at the chamber door. As I knew for sure that no male individual other than myself was in the house, the thought of the "Bjäran" arose. I rushed up a couple of steps to the door. I pushed it open and looked around, but the hallway was empty. The full moon shone from a clear sky right in through the window, so I would have seen if even a mouse had stirred there. I lay down again, but in a few moments, the same clattering and sound as just before was heard. I got angry, rushed up again and out into the hallway, but no, it was empty, whereupon I exclaimed: "I think the devil is loose in this house." Then it was silent. The girl, otherwise very talkative, lay completely silent, and as she was a close relative of the old lady, I was ashamed to discuss the phenomenon with her. I have always been staunchly radical against everything called superstition, but I must admit that this case was peculiar. The story is simple, but it has the advantage over many others that it is true.