People who did and people who just talked. Ove talked less and less and did more and more.
He had no friends. But on the other hand he hardly had any enemies either, apart from Tom,
who since his promotion to foreman took every opportunity to make Ove’s life as difficult as possible.
He gave him the dirtiest and heaviest jobs, shouted at him, tripped him up at breakfast,
sent him under railway carriages for inspections and set them in motion while Ove lay unprotected on the cross ties.
When Ove, startled, threw himself out of the way just in time,
Tom laughed contemptuously and roared: “Look out or you’ll end up like your old man!”
Ove kept his head down, though, and his mouth shut.
He saw no purpose in challenging a man who was twice his own size.
He went to work every day and did justice to himself—that had been good enough for his father and so it would also have to do for Ove.
His colleagues learned to appreciate him for it. “When people don’t talk so much they don’t dish out the crap either,”
one of his older workmates said to him one afternoon down on the track. And Ove nodded.
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