Chapter 3: The Trap Springs – Encounters and Ironies
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A Winter Evening
The wind blew sharp and cold. Snowflakes drifted lazily across the path, settling on the ragged
shoulders of the peddler. His thin shoes were soaked from trudging through wet ground, and his
stomach twisted with hunger. Yet his mind still clung to his philosophy: the world was a rattrap, and
he was wise enough to laugh at it.
But that evening, the philosophy was about to test him in the most brutal way.
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A Crofter’s Hospitality
At the edge of a village, he spotted a small cottage, humble yet warm with light. From within came
the sounds of a cow shifting in the shed and a man humming cheerfully. The peddler, desperate for
shelter, knocked on the door.
To his surprise, the old crofter welcomed him in. This was unusual—most people turned him away
as if he carried a disease. But the crofter, lonely and eager for company, offered food, tobacco, and
a bed of hay.
As they ate together, the crofter spoke with pride about his cow, his source of income. He even
unlocked a leather pouch and showed the peddler thirty kronor—his hard-earned savings.
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Temptation in the Air
The sight of those coins was like a piece of cheese in a trap. The peddler, who had spent weeks
laughing at others for being caught, now felt the wires tighten around him.
"It would be foolish… yet so easy," he thought as he lay on the crofter’s hay bed that night. He
imagined the coins jingling in his own pocket, the meals they could buy, the comfort they could
bring. The wires of temptation gleamed brighter than ever.
By morning, the philosophy that had once given him pride now became a cruel joke. His hands,
almost against his will, reached for the pouch after the crofter left. He stole the thirty kronor and
slipped out of the cottage.
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The Trap Springs Shut
As soon as the coins touched his pocket, the world transformed. The forest, once open and free,
seemed to close in on him like a cage. Every path looked the same, every tree mocked him, and
every echo of his footsteps sounded like the clink of stolen money.
His own words came back to haunt him: “The whole world is a rattrap.” Now, he was the mouse,
caught by bait. He laughed bitterly at the irony, but fear gnawed at him more than hunger ever had.
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The Forest of Guilt
Hour after hour, he walked in circles through the forest. The snow thickened, the trees darkened,
and despair gripped his heart.
"Is this the trap? Is this the end of me?" he whispered, clutching the stolen money. The forest
became a physical symbol of his prison—confusing, endless, and merciless.
For the first time, he realized the true weight of his philosophy. It was not just about others—it was
about him. The world had set bait before him, and he had lunged like a desperate mouse. Now the
trap had sprung.
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The Irony of Fate
What makes this moment powerful is irony. The peddler had built his identity on mocking the
world’s foolishness. Yet here he was, no different from those he ridiculed. His supposed wisdom
crumbled. His pride became ashes.
Selma Lagerlöf uses this irony to remind us: no one is safe from temptation. Even those who see
the trap clearly may fall into it. Knowledge does not guarantee freedom—strength of character
does.
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A Deeper Symbolism
In this chapter, the rattrap grows as a symbol. It no longer represents only life’s temptations in
general. It becomes a personal prison for the peddler.
The coins are the bait. The forest is the cage. His fear is the spring that tightens around him.
Thus, the story shifts from philosophy to lived experience. The peddler is no longer an observer of
the trap—he is its victim.
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Closing Reflections
By the end of this stage, the peddler’s laughter has turned hollow. The philosophy that once gave
him superiority now mocks him. He is caught, helpless, guilty, and lost.
But the story does not end here. For though the trap has closed, cracks will soon appear in its
wires. And it is not wisdom, but kindness, that will loosen them.