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I was very interested in learning how to play the violin and my mother was very supportive by giving me opportunities to learn. However, the music teacher, under whom I wanted to study had absolutely no desire of having me as a student. Which was just as well, because since then I've come to realize that I have very little ability when it comes to music.

I then decided to learn more about the profession of blacksmith. So I became an apprentice with H. Danielsen who was a blacksmith in Faxe. I had to work very hard but I received good food and was overall pretty satisfied with the way things went. On the first Sunday during my stay there, his wife asked me to help her chase her ducklings out of the water and into the house. They were swimming in "Vinkjelderen" (the Wine Cellar), which was a large pond near the house and which was also the swimming hole to about 20 other groups of ducklings. The blacksmith's wife showed me which group of ducklings belonged to her. So I gathered a bunch of small pebbles and the first one I threw hits a duckling right in the head dropping it dead on the spot. That was the first and last time she asked me to chase ducklings.

My master was unhealthy, suffering from dropsy and rarely did much of anything. There was another worker  

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who had participated in the Danish-German war during the years 1848-1850. He still had a bullet stuck in one of his thighs which often left him in agony. He had learned his profession in the town of Præstø and was therefore considered a big city journeyman. He also happened to be a rather large individual who continually looked down on me and it didn't help that I kept addressing him in a familiar manner when speaking to him when I was supposed to call him sir, but refused to. Back then it was the custom that the blacksmith's apprentice wasn't allowed to let go of his hammer from morning til evening. So when the iron had grown cold from repeated striking and was put back into the fire you were supposed to stand with the hammer on your shoulder while working the bellows with the other hand until the iron was nice and hot again. Furthermore, it was also the custom back then to roll up your sleeves up over your elbows. So one time, when the apprentice was taking the nails out of the fire, he got the idea to strike the iron so that sparks were sent flying into my folded up shirt sleeve and burned my skin. I couldn't work for a long time after that. The blacksmith and his apprentice fought over this event and the apprentice ended up leaving over the confrontation. So the master had no choice