A couple of days later, the sun looked down in the morning right out of
a rain-cloud, over the landlord's garden at Gurlitz. Her daughter, the
Earth, had been having a great washing, and now she would help her dear
child a little with the drying. It was, as it is always, a great
pleasure to see the old mother settle herself to the task, and with her
broad, friendly face peer out, now here, now there, from the white
cloud-curtain, and again grasp the sprinkler, to dampen the bleached
clothes a little more. On such an occasion she was always very
sportive; she had the drollest fancies, and played as many tricks in
her old age as the youngest girl, when she is beloved for the first
time,--now she was sad enough to cry, and again she laughed heartily.
To-day, moreover, the old woman had reason to laugh, as she looked down
into the Gurlitz garden. "Now, just look there!" cried she, and smiled
right goldenly over the meadow and the green corn, "how strangely
things go on in this crazy world! For long years I have always seen
down there that pretty, white fellow standing, and holding out a staff
to me, that the poor hungry creatures of the human race might be able
to know when it was mid-day, and time for their dinners; and now there
stands in his place a stout, malicious-looking beast, with green
breeches, smoking tobacco. Nowhere do things go on so strangely as in
the world!" And with that the old woman laughed from the bottom of her
heart over the landlord Herr Pomuchelskopp, who stood in his yellow
nankeen coat and green plaid trowsers, by the sun-dial, in the very
place where the handsome heathen god, Apollo, had stood, only instead
of a lyre he had a short pipe in his hand; and yet a shadow often
passed over her face when her eyes fell on her handsome, friendly
secretary, who had for so many years recorded her doings with his
pencil, and now lay among burdocks and nettles in the grass. But she
had to laugh again, for all that.
Pomuchelskopp laughed also; there were no indications of mirth in his
face, but, whenever, from the height which his short stature allowed,
he looked around him, he laughed in his heart: "All mine! All mine!"
The sunbeam which brightened the world was not noticed by him, it
touched neither his face nor his heart; the sunbeam which shone for him
was properly a sum in arithmetic, which warmed his heart, but there
were no signs of it in his face; there must be a joke, an actual joke,
to make him laugh outwardly, and that was not wanting at the present
moment.
His two youngest children, Nanting and Philipping, had come out, and
Philipping had made a rod of burdocks and nettle stalks tied together,
and was flogging the poor, white heathen god, so that Father
Pomuchelskopp laughed heartily; and Nanting ran into the kitchen and
brought a coal, to give him a pair of moustaches, but his father would
not allow this. "Nanting," said he, "let that go, it might disfigure
him, and we may possibly be able to sell him yet. But you may beat
him,"--and they did beat him, and Father Pomuchelskopp laughed as if he
would shake himself out of his green trowsers.
Meanwhile the "Madam" also walked out, the dryer half of Pomuchelskopp.
She was of an extremely tall figure, and as dry as the seven lean kine
of King Pharaoh. Her eyebrows were always puckered up into wrinkles, as
if the cares of the whole world weighed o'er her mind, or her forehead
was drawn into peevish lines above her nose, as if all the crockery
broken by the maid-servants in this world, during a whole year, had
belonged to her; and her mouth looked as sour as if she had drank
vinegar and fed on sorrel all her days. She wore in the morning at this
warm season of the year, a black merino over-sack, which she had once
bought in a time of mourning and still wore; and through the day,
cotton garments dyed olive-green with alder-bark, and to make up for
the extravagance of Pomuchelskopp's new blue dress-coat with bright
buttons, she bundled up her head with old bandages and caps, out of
which her anxious face peered like a half-starved mouse out of a bunch
of tow; and about the rest of her body she heaped one old thing above
another, till her poor little legs looked like a couple of pins lost in
a bundle of rags. However, I would advise every servant to keep out of
her way, for even when her poor bones flew around frivolously on velvet
and silken wings, her troubled soul was anxiously reckoning the expense
and the wearing out.
She was such a mother as one reads of in books,--she planned day and
night how she might make over Malchen's coat into an under-jacket for
Philipping; she loved her children according to the Scriptures, and
chastened them in like manner, and Nanting could often show for one
spot on his jacket two on his back, and for every one on his trousers
two on the flesh they covered. Yes, she was strong against herself and
against her own flesh and blood, but she could rejoice also, according
to the scriptures, with moderation; and, as she came out to-day, and
saw the joyous activity of her youngest offspring, there flew over her
face such a hopeful light as when the February sun looks down on the
fast-frozen soil, and says, "Patience! there will be a good crop of
potatoes here this year."
And she was also such a wife as one reads of in books; no neighbor
could charge her with neglecting her duties a hair's breadth in
thought, word or deed, all her days, although Pomuchelskopp was in her
opinion quite light-minded, because often when joking was going on he
would laugh right out loud, which she thought unbecoming in the father
of a family, and she feared he would at length ruin his fortunes and
bring herself and her children to beggary. She did another thing, which
the minister had not inculcated at her betrothal,--she condemned his
failings, and gave him daily of her own vinegar to drink and of her
sorrel to eat. She tutored him--that is to say when they were alone--as
she did her youngest child, her Philipping, and as if Pomuchelskopp
still wore his green plaid trousers fastened behind; in short, she
drove him just as she pleased. She did not beat him--God forbid! all
was with dignity. Merely by her manner of speaking, she knew how to
express her opinion of him: if he was unusually frivolous, she called
him sharply and shortly by the last syllable of his name, just "Kopp!"
ordinarily she called him by the middle syllable, "Muchel," and when he
was quite after her own heart, and sat sulkily in the sofa-corner
striking at the flies, she called him by the first syllable, and in an
affectionate tone, "Poeking."
She did not call him "Poeking" to-day. "Kopp!" said she, on account of
his light-minded behavior with the children, "Kopp, why do you stand
there smoking like a chimney? I think we should call at the Pastor's."
"My Kluecking," said Pomuchelskopp, reluctantly taking the pipe from his
mouth, "we can go. I will put on my dress-coat directly."
"Dress-coat! Why so? Do you think I shall dress up in black silk? It is
only our Pastor." She emphasized the "our," as if she had spoken of her
shepherd, and as if she considered the Pastor merely their hired
servant.
"Just as you please, my Haeuhning," said Pomuchelskopp, "I can put on my
brown overcoat. Philipping, let the beating go; Mama doesn't like it."
"Kopp! let the children alone, attend to yourself. You can keep on your
nankeen coat, it is clean and good."
"My Kluecking," said Pomuchelskopp, "always noble, my dear Kluecking! If
we owe nothing to the Pastor's family, we owe something to ourselves.
And, if Malcheh and Salchen are going too, they must dress themselves
up, and then we will set out."
This argument gained Pomuchelskopp the permission to array himself in
his brown overcoat. He was so rejoiced at having carried his point, a
thing which did not often happen, that in his gratitude he desired to
confer some pleasure upon his Kluecking, and make her a sharer in his
own satisfaction; for no one must do Pomuchelskopp the injustice to
suppose that he was overbearing in his own house,--no! there he was
rather humble and depressed. He pointed, therefore, across the fields
and said, "Just look, that is all ours!"
"Muchel, you point too far," said the lady shortly; "all that over
yonder belongs to Pumpelhagen."
"You are right, that is all Pumpelhagen. But"--he added, and the little
eyes looked greedily towards Pumpelhagen, "who knows? If God spares my
life, and I sell my property in Pomerania at a good bargain, and times
continue good, and the old Kammerrath dies, and his son gets into
debt----"
"Yes, Muchel," interrupted his wife, and across her face flitted that
derisive gleam, which was the only approach to a smile ever seen on it,
"yes, just as old Strohpagel said: 'If I were ten years younger, and
hadn't this lame leg, and hadn't a wife--you should see what a fellow I
would be!'"
"Haeuhning," said Pomuchelskopp, making a face as if he were grieved to
the heart, "how can you talk so? As if I wished to be rid of you!
Without the thirty thousand dollars, which your father left you, I
never could have bought Gurlitz. And what a fine estate Gurlitz is!
See! this is all Gurlitz!" and he pointed again over the fields.
"Yes, Kopp," said his wife, in a hard tone, "all but the Pastor's
field, which you have let slip out of your fingers."
"Ah, Kluecking," said Pomuchelskopp, as they left the garden,
"always the Pastor's field! what can I do? See, I am an honest,
straight-forward man; what can I do against such a pair of sly old
fellows as Habermann and the Pastor? But the day is not over yet,
Monsieur Habermann! We shall have something to say to each other yet,
Herr Pastor!"
At the Pastor's house, this morning, three pretty little girls were
sitting in the Frau Pastorin's neat parlor, busy as bees, their fingers
sewing and their tongues chatting at the same time, and looking, amid
the white linen, as fresh and red as ripe strawberries on a white
plate; these were Louise Habermann and the little twins, Mining and
Lining Nuessler.
"Children," said the little, round Frau Pastorin, as she now and then
looked in from the kitchen, "you cannot think what a pleasure it is to
one in my old age, when I put away my clean linen in the linen-trunk,
and think with every piece when it was spun and when it was sewed! And
how prudent it makes one, to know for oneself how much pains it has
cost! Mining, Mining, your seam is crooked! Good heavens, Louise! I
believe you are looking off half the time, yet you sew right along, and
get no knots in your thread. But now I must go and take up the
potatoes, for my Pastor will be here soon," and with that she ran out
of the door, looking back, however, to say, "Mining and Lining, you
must stay here to dinner to-day!" And so she flew from the kitchen to
the parlor, and from the parlor back to the kitchen, like the pendulum
of a clock, and kept everything in running order.
But how came Lining and Mining Nuessler to be in the Frau Pastorin's
sewing-school? It happened in this way.
When the little twins had got so far that they could speak the "r"
plainly, and no longer played in the sand, and ran after Frau Nuessler
all day long, saying, "Mother, what shall we do now?" then Frau Nuessler
said to young Jochen that it was high time the children went to school;
they must have a governess. Jochen had no objections, and his
brother-in-law, the Rector Baldrian, undertook the task of procuring
one. When she had been six months at Rexow, Frau Nuessler said she was a
cross old thing, she scolded the little girls from morning to night and
made them so skittish that they did not know how to behave; she must
go. Thereupon Kaufman Kurz looked up another; and one day, when nobody
in Rexow dreamed of impending evil, a sort of grenadier walked in at
the door, with heavy black eyebrows, and sallow complexion, and with
spectacles on her nose, and announced herself as the new "governess."
She began to talk French to the little twins, and as she observed that
the poor little creatures were so ignorant that they could not
understand her in the least, she turned, in the same language, to young
Jochen. Such a thing had never happened to young Jochen in his life; he
let his pipe fall from his mouth, and as they were drinking coffee he
said, in order to say something, "Mother, ask the new school-ma'am to
take another cup."
This one was a "governess" over the whole house, and Frau Nuessler stood
it bravely for a while; but finally she said, "Stop! This won't do; if
anybody is to command here it is I, for I am the nearest, as Frau
Pastorin says;" and she gave the grenadier her marching orders. Then
uncle Braesig offered his assistance, and engaged a teacher,--"A smart
one," he said, "always in good spirits, and she can play you dead on
the harpsichord." He was right; one evening in the winter, there
arrived at Rexow a little blue-cheeked, hump-backed body, who, after
the first ten minutes, attacked the new piano, which Jochen had bought
at auction, and belaboured it as if she were threshing wheat. When she
had gone to bed, young Jochen opened the piano, and when he saw that
three strings were broken, he shut it up again, and said, "Yes, what
shall we do about it?"
There were lively times in the house now; the girl-governess ran and
romped with the little girls, until Frau Nuessler came to the conclusion
that her oldest, Lining, had really more sense than the mamselle. She
wished to inform herself how the mamselle managed the children in
school-hours; she requested, therefore, to be shown a plan of their
studies, and the next day Lining brought her a great sheet of paper
with all the "branches" marked out. There was German and French,
Orthography and Geography, and Religion, and Biblical History, and
other History, and also Biblical Natural History, and then to conclude
with, music, and music, and music.
"Eh!" said Frau Nuessler to Jochen, "she may teach them all the music
she wants to, for all me, if the religion is only of the right sort.
What do you say, Jochen?"
"Yes," said Jochen, "it is all as true as leather!"
Well, she might have stayed, if Lining had not let out, accidentally,
that mamselle played jack-stones with them in the Biblical History; and
as Frau Nuessler heard one day, during the "Religion" hour, such a
romping in the school-room that she opened the door suddenly, to see
what kind of religion was going on, behold! Mamselle was playing
"Cuckoo" with the children. Madam Nuessler could not approve of this
lively sort of religion, so Mamselle "Hop-on-the-hill" hopped after the
grenadier.
It was very inconvenient, because it was now the middle of the fourth
quarter, and if Frau Nuessler complained that the children were running
wild, Jochen only said; "Yes, what shall I do about it?" But he began
to study the Rostock "Times" with uncommon interest; and one day he
laid aside the "Times," and ordered Christian to get out the "phantom."
His good wife was considerably astonished, for she had no idea what he
was thinking of; but as she looked at the pipe side of his face, and
noticed that his mouth was stretched wider than usual, which
represented a friendly smile, she gave herself no more anxiety, and
said, "Let him go! He has something good in his head."
After three days Jochen returned with an elderly, almost
transparent-looking lady, and it went through the whole region like a
running fire: "Only think! young Jochen has got a governess himself."
Braesig came the next Sunday to see her; he was tolerably contented with
her, "But," said he, finally, "look out, young Jochen, she has nerves."
Braesig was not only a good judge of horses, but a judge of human
nature; he was right,--Mamselle was nervous, very nervous indeed. The
poor little twins went about on tiptoe, Mamselle took away Lining's
ball, because she had accidentally thrown it at the window, and locked
up the piano, so that Lining could no longer play, "Our cat has
nine kittens," the only piece which she had learned from Mamselle
"Hop-on-the-hill." Before long Mamselle added cramps to her nerves, and
Madam Nuessler must run with sundry bottles of "drops," and both Fika
and Corlin must sit up with her nights, because either one alone would
be afraid. "Send her away," said uncle Braesig; but Frau Nuessler was too
good for that, she sent rather for the doctor. Dr. Strump was summoned
from Rahnstadt, and after examining the patient, he pronounced it a
very interesting case, the more so that he had lately been studying
"the night-side of Nature."
Young Jochen and his wife thought nothing worse from that than that the
doctor had lately been a good deal out of his bed o' nights, but he
meant something quite different.
One day, when the doctor was with the mamselle, Corlin called from the
stairs:--
"Frau, Frau! there is mischief going on. The doctor has been stroking
her over her face, and now she is asleep, and talking in her sleep. She
told me I had a lover."
"God bless me!" cried Braesig, who happened to be there, "what sort of
business is the woman carrying on?" and he went up-stairs with Frau
Nuessler. After a while he came down, and asked, "Now, what do you say
to, it young Jochen?"
Jochen reflected awhile, and then said, "Yes, that doesn't help the
matter, Braesig."
"Jochen," said Braesig, going up and down the room with great strides,
"I said to you before, 'send her away;' now I say, don't send her away.
I asked her if it would rain to-morrow, and she said to me, in her
somnambulic state, that it would rain torrents. If it rains torrents
to-morrow, then take down your barometer from the wall,--barometers are
of no use, and yours has stood there two years, always at fair
weather,--and hang her up there; you can benefit yourself and the whole
region."
Young Jochen said nothing, but when next morning it rained torrents, he
was silent indeed, and his astonishment kept him dumb for three days.
The rumor spread in the neighborhood, that young Jochen had a
fortune-teller at his house, and that she had prophesied the great rain
on Saturday, and also that Corlin Kraeuger and Inspector Braesig would be
married within a year. Dr. Strump naturally did his share toward
setting this interesting case in a clear light, and it was not long
before Frau Nuessler's quiet house became a kind of pilgrim's shrine, to
which resorted all who were curious, or scientific, or interested in
physical science; and, because Frau Nuessler would have nothing to do
with it, and Jochen was incapable, Zachary Braesig undertook the
business, when the doctor was not there, and ushered troops of visitors
into the mamselle's room, and explained her somnambulic condition; and
before the bed, by the mamselle, sat Christian the coachman, who was
not afraid of the devil himself, for Corlin and Fika would no longer
watch by her, even in the day time, having taken it into their heads
that she was not respectable; because they translated Braesig's
expression, "sonnenbuhlerisch" (somnambulic), into Platt-Deutsch, and
said the mamselle was "suennenbuhlerisch" (no better than she should
be).
Among the visitors, who came to see this wonder, was the young Baron
von Mallerjahn of Graeunenmur, who came daily to investigate the
physical sciences and thought no harm of going into mamselle's room
without Braesig. Frau Nuessler was disturbed by the impropriety of the
thing, and requested Jochen to put a stop to the nuisance, upon which
Jochen replied that they might put Christian up there; but when
Christian came down one day, and said the Herr Baron had sent him away,
because he smelled too strong of the stable, then Frau Nuessler's
annoyance broke out in a flood of tears, and, if Braesig had not arrived
just then, she would herself have treated the Herr Baron to a scolding;
but Braesig, like a true knight, took the business upon himself.
He went up-stairs, and said very courteously and decidedly, "Gracious
Herr Baron, will you have the kindness to step the other side of the
door for a moment."
It was possibly too fine for the Herr Baron's comprehension, he laughed
rather confusedly, and said he stood for the moment in magnetic
_rapport_ with the mamselle.
"Monetic apport!" said Braesig. "We need none of your money here, and
none of your apporters either; Christian was put here on purpose to
prevent such doings."
Braesig himself stood in magnetic _rapport_, without being conscious of
it, for when Frau Nuessler wept he fell into a passion, and in great
wrath he cried to the baron, "Herr, be off with you, out of the house!"
The baron was naturally astonished at this speech, and inquired rather
haughtily whether Braesig was aware that he was growing rude.
"Do you call that rudeness?" cried Braesig, taking the baron by the arm.
"Then I will show you something else!"
But the disturbance awoke the mamselle out of her sleep; she sprang
from the sofa and grasped the baron by the other arm: she wouldn't stay
here, nobody here understood her, he alone understood her, she would go
with him.
"The best thing you can do," said Braesig. "Don't let us detain you! Two
birds with one stone!" and he assisted her down stairs.
The carriage of the Herr Baron was all ready, and drove up to the door;
the Herr Baron himself was in great perplexity, but the mamselle held
fast.
"Yes, there's no help for it," said young Jochen, as he watched their
departure.
"Young Jochen," said Braesig, as the equipage left the yard, "she is
like leather, she is tough. And you, madam," said he to Frau Nuessler,
"let the man go, now he can see as much as he likes of his monetic
treasure."
Habermann had been absent a good deal of late, on business for his
master, and, when he came home for a day or two, he had so much to
attend to on the estate that he could not trouble himself about other
people's affairs. He had been at his sister's however, and had
comforted her about the mamselle, that it was merely sickness and would
pass over; but as he came home this time, the report was all over the
neighborhood that young Jochen's sleeping mamselle had gone off with
the Baron von Mallerjahn, but that she had previously infected Braesig
with prophesying, and Christian with sleeping. Braesig prophesied
wherever he went, and Christian fell asleep even on his feet.
Habermann went to Pastor Behrens, and inquired what he knew of the
story, and asked him to go with him to his sister's.
"Willingly, dear Habermann," said the Pastor; "but I have not troubled
myself much about this matter, for good reasons. I know very well that
in our good fatherland many of my brethren in Christ have occupied
themselves in healing the possessed, and casting out devils; but I
think such cases belong rather to the department of the physician,
or"--with a rather peculiar laugh--"to that of the police."
When they came to Rexow, the cheerful, active Frau Nuessler, who could
usually shake off easily the worst misfortune, or the most annoying
vexation, seemed quite another person.
"Herr Pastor," said she, "Brother Karl, that crazy woman has gone, and
I had trouble enough about her, and so have they all gone, that I have
had; but that is no matter, I shall get over that. What troubles me is
my poor little girls, who know nothing and learn nothing. And when I
think how the poor little dears will seem among their elders and equals
like a couple of fools, knowing nothing that is talked about, and not
even knowing how to write a letter--no, Herr Pastor, you, who have
learned so much, you cannot know how one feels, but I know, and, Karl,
you can understand it too. No, Herr Pastor, even though my heart should
break, and I should go about alone with Jochen in this great house,
like one in a dream, I will give up my little girls to go away to
school, rather than have them remain stupid all their lives. You see,
when Louise comes here, she is intelligent; one can talk with her, and
she can read the newspaper to Jochen. Min can read too, but if she
comes to a strange word, she begins to stammer. For instance the other
day Louise read 'Burdoh,' and the place is called so,--and Min read
'Bo-ur-de-aux.' What is the good of 'Bo-ur-de-aux,' when the city is
called 'Burdoh?'"
The Pastor had risen during this speech, and walked thoughtfully about
the room; at last he came to a stand before Frau Nuessler, looked at her
observantly and said, "My dear neighbor, I will make you a proposition.
Louise is a little more advanced, to be sure, but that makes no
difference; you shall not be separated from your little ones,--let me
instruct them."
Frau Nuessler had never thought of such an offer, and it seemed to her
like drawing the great prize in the lottery, or as if she had stepped
out of shadow into sunshine. She stared at the Pastor with her
wide-open, blue eyes; "Herr Pastor!" she cried, springing up from her
chair, "Jochen, Jochen, did you hear? The Herr Pastor offers to teach
the children himself."
Jochen had heard, and was also on his feet, trying to say something; he
said nothing, however, only fumbled and grappled for the Herr Pastor's
hand, until he grasped it, then pressed it warmly, and drew him to the
sofa, behind the supper table, which was spread; and when Frau Nuessler
and Habermann had fully expressed their pleasure, he also had become
capable of expression, and said, "Mother, pour out a cup for the Herr
Pastor."
So Mining and Lining were now daily guests at the Gurlitz parsonage.
They were as clearly a pair of twins as ever; only that Lining as the
eldest was perhaps half an inch taller than Mining, and Mining was a
good half inch larger round the waist, and--if one looked very
closely--Mining's nose was a trifle shorter than Lining's.
And so on the day when Pomuchelskopp set out to make his first call at
the parsonage, the twins were in the Frau Pastorin's sewing-school, for
the Frau Pastorin also meant to do her duty by the children, when the
Pastor was occupied with the business of his calling.
"God bless me!" exclaimed the Frau Pastorin, running into the room,
"children put your work aside; take it all into the bedroom, Louise;
Mining, pick up the threads and scraps; Lining, you put the chairs in
order! Here come our new landlord with his wife and daughters, across
the church-yard, right up to the house,--and, bless his heart! my
Pastor has gone to Warnitz to a christening!" And she grasped
unconsciously her duster, but had to lay it aside directly, for there
was a knock at the door, and upon her "Come in!" Pomuchelskopp with his
wife and his two daughters, Malchen and Salchen, entered the room.
"They did themselves the honor," said Pomuchelskopp, endeavoring to
make a graceful bow, which on account of his peculiar build was
rather a failure, "to wait upon the Herr Pastor, and the Frau
Pastorin--acquaintance--neighborhood----"
Frau Pomuchelskopp stood by, as stiff and stately as if she had that
morning been plated with iron, and Malchen and Salchen, in their gay
silk dresses, stared at the three little maidens in their clean cotton
garments, like a goldfinch at a hedge-sparrow.
The Frau Pastorin was the most cordial person in the world, to her
friends; but when she met strangers, and her Pastor was not present to
speak for himself, she took his dignity also upon her shoulders. She
drew herself up to her full height, looking as round and full as a
goose on the spit, and with every word that she spoke the cap ribbons
under her little double chin wagged back and forth with a dignified
air, as if they would say, "Nobody shall take precedence of me!"
"The honor is quite on our side," said she. "Unfortunately my Pastor is
not at home. Won't you sit down?" and with that she seated the two old
Pomuchelskopps on the sofa, under the picture-gallery.
Meanwhile, as the older people were discussing indifferent topics with
an appearance of interest, as the custom is, and now one and now
another advancing opinions to which the rest could not assent, Louise
went, in a friendly way, as was proper, to the two young ladies, and
shook hands with them, and the little twins followed her example, as
was also proper.
Now Malchen and Salchen were just eighteen and nineteen years old. They
were not handsome; Salchen had a gray, pimpled complexion, and Malchen,
though she was not to blame for it, bore too striking a resemblance to
her father. But they were _educated_--save the mark! and had recently
attended the Whitsuntide fair and Trinity ball, at Rostock, so there
was really a great difference between them and the little girls, and
since they were not very kindly disposed, they looked rather coldly on
the little maidens.
These, however, either did not notice it, or took it as a matter of
course that their advances should be received with coolness, and Louise
said with great admiration to Malchen, "Ah, what a beautiful dress you
have on!"
Even an educated young lady might be pleased at that, and Malchen
became a little more friendly, as she said, "It is only an old one; my
new one cost, with the trimming and dress-making, all of ten dollars
more."
"Papa gave them to us for the Trinity ball. Ah, how we danced there!"
added Salchen.
Now Louise had heard in sermons about Sundays before and after Trinity,
but of a Trinity ball she knew nothing; in fact she had no definite
conception of a ball itself, for though the Frau Pastorin in her youth
had taken pleasure like other people, and had occasionally set foot in
a ball-room, yet, out of consideration for her present dignified
position, she always answered Louise's questions what a ball was
like,--"Mere frivolity!"
As for Lining and Mining they would have known nothing of balls, for
though their mother danced in her younger days, it was merely at
harvest feasts, and young Jochen had indeed once gone to a ball, but
upon reaching the door of the saloon he was so frightened that he beat
a retreat,--but Uncle Braesig's descriptions had given the children a
confused idea of many white dresses with green and red ribbons, of
violins and clarionettes, of waltzes and quadrilles, and many, many
glasses of punch. And as Uncle Braesig had described it all, he had also
given an illustration, with his short legs, of the sliding step, and
the hop step, so that they laughed prodigiously; but what a "ball,"
such a ball as the last governess had taken away from Mining, had to do
with it all, they had never comprehended. So Mining asked quite
innocently, "But, if you dance, how do you play with a ball?"
Mining was a thoughtless little girl, and she should not have asked
such a question; but, considering her youth and inexperience, the
Misses Pomuchelskopp need not have laughed quite so loud as they did.
"Oh dear!" cried Salchen, "that is too stupid!"
"Yes, good gracious! so very countrified!" said Malchen, and drew
herself up in a stately attitude, as if she had lived under the shadow
of St. Peter's tower in Rostock from her babyhood, and the first
burgomeister of the city had been her next door neighbor.
Poor little Mining turned as red as a rose, for she felt that she must
have made a great blunder, and Louise grew red also, but it was from
anger. "Why do you laugh?" she cried hastily, "why do you laugh because
we know nothing about balls?"
"See, see! How excited!" laughed Malchen. "My dear child----"
She went no further in her wise speech, being interrupted by hasty
words from the group on the sofa.
"Frau Pastorin, I say it is wrong; I am the owner of Gurlitz, and if
the Pastor's field was to be rented----"
"It was my Pastor's doing, and the Kammerrath is an old friend, and one
of our parishioners, and the field joins his land as well as it does
yours, and Inspector Habermann----"
"Is an old cheat," interrupted Pomuchelskopp.
"He has already done us an injury," added his wife.
"What?" cried the little Frau Pastorin, "what?"
But her dear old heart thought in a minute of little Louise, and she
overcame her anger, and began to wink and blink. It was too late; the
child had heard her father's name, had heard the slander, and stood now
before the arrogant man, and the cold, hard woman.
"What is my father? What has my father done?"
Her eyes shot fiery glances at the two who had spoken evil of her
father, and the young frame which up to this time had known constant
peace and joy, quivered with passion.
People tell us that sometimes the fair, still, green earth trembles,
and fire and flame burst forth, and showers of gray ashes bury the
dwellings of men, and the temples of God. It seemed to her that a
beautiful temple, in which she had often worshipped, had been buried
under gray ashes, and her grief broke forth in streaming tears, as her
good foster-mother put her arms around her, and led her from the room.
Muchel looked at his Kluecking, and Kluecking looked at her Muchel; they
had got themselves into trouble. It was quite another thing from having
one of his laborer's wives come to him, in tears, and a pitiful tale of
sorrow and distress--he knew what to do in such cases; but here he had
no occasion for reproaches or advice, and, as he glanced about him in
his confusion, and saw upon the wall the hands of Christ stretched out
in blessing, it seemed to him that the flashing eyes of Louise had
turned appealingly toward them, and he remembered how Christ had said,
"Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of
Heaven." He did not feel exactly comfortable.
His brave Kluecking also, was quite disturbed. She had heard her own
children screaming many a time under her vigorous discipline, but this
was a different matter; Malchen and Salchen had often shot fire from
their eyes, and stamped their feet, but this was a different matter.
She recovered herself soon, however, and said,--
"Kopp, don't make such a stupid face! What did she say about her
father? Is Habermann her father?"
"Yes," answered Mining and Lining, through their tears, "that is Louise
Habermann." And they followed their little friend into the next room,
to cry with her; for though they did not know how deeply her heart was
wounded, they reckoned themselves one with her, in joy and sorrow.
"I did not know that," said Pomuchelskopp; the very words he had used
years before, when Habermann's wife lay in her coffin.
"A foolish girl!" said his Haeuhning. "Malchen and Salchen, come, we
will go; the Pastor's wife won't come back again."
And so they went off, like the year 1822, of which Haeuhning represents
the 1, on account of her leanness, and because she would always be
number 1, Pomuchelskopp the 8, on account of his size and rotundity,
and the two daughters the two figure 2's,--for such a 2 always looks to
me like a goose swimming on the water.
As they stepped out of the door, the Pastor was just returning from his
duties at Warnitz, and had brought Uncle Braesig home with him. He knew
by their appearance that they had been making a ceremonious visit, and
sprung hastily from the carriage, that he might be in time for a part
of it.
"Ah, good day! How do you do? But," he added in surprise, "where is my
wife?"
"She went off and left us," said Frau Pomuchelskopp, stiffly.
"Eh, there must be some mistake! Do come in again, I shall be back
directly," and he ran into the house.
Meanwhile Braesig had gone up to his old comrade Pomuchelskopp: "Good
day, Zamel, how are you?"
"Thank you, Herr Inspector, very well," was the reply.
Braesig elevated his eyebrows, looked him square in the face, and
whistled square in his face. If Frau Pomuchelskopp wished to make him a
courtesy, she might do so, but only to his back, for he turned about
and went into the house.
"Come, Kopp," said she sharply, and the procession moved off.
As the pastor entered the house, he found nobody there; he went through
into the garden, and called, and it was not long before he saw the
little twins sitting under a raspberry hedge, with red eyes, and they
pointed to the birch-tree arbor, with anxious looks, as if to say he
must go there if he would find out what the trouble was. He went to the
arbor, and there sat his Regina, with the child in her lap, trying to
comfort her. When she saw her Pastor, she put the child gently down on
the bench, drew him out of the arbor, and told him the matter.
Pastor Behrens listened in silence; but as his wife repeated the wicked
word that the Herr Landlord had used, there flashed over his
intelligent, quiet face a look of bitter anger, and then his clear eyes
shone with the deepest compassion. He said to his wife that she might
go in, and he would speak to the child. So it had come at last! his
lovely flower had been pierced by a poisonous worm; the pitiless world
had grasped this soft, pure heart with its hard, coarse hand, and the
finger-marks could never be effaced; now it had entered upon the great,
never-ending struggle, which is fought out here on earth until hearts
cease to beat. It must come, yes, it must come, he knew that well
enough; but he knew also that the greatest art of one who would train a
human soul lies in keeping away, as long as possible, the hard hand
from the tender heart, until that also had become harder, and then, if
the evil grip should be even worse, the black fingers will not leave
such deep marks upon the heart, until then innocent of the never-ending
struggle. He went into the arbor. Thou art still happy, Louise; well is
it for one who in such an hour is blessed with a faithful friend!
Frau Pastorin, meanwhile, went into the parlor, and found Braesig.
Braesig, instead of sitting down on the comfortable sofa, under the
picture-gallery, or at least in a reasonable chair, had seated himself
on a table, and was working like a linen-weaver, in his excitement over
Pomuchelskopp's ceremonious behavior. "There you see me, there you have
me!" he cried angrily. "The Jesuit!" As the Frau Pastorin came in, he
sprang from his table, and cried,--
"Frau Pastorin, what should you say of anybody you had known forty
years, and you meet him, and you speak to him, and he calls you
"Sie?"[1]
"Ah, Braesig----"
"That is what Pomuchelskopp has done to me."
"Let the man alone! He has done worse mischief here;" and she related
what had happened.
Braesig was angry, exceedingly angry, over the injury which he had
received, but when he heard this he was angry beyond measure; he
stormed up and down the room, and made use of language for which the
Frau Pastorin would have reproved him severely, had she not been very
angry herself; at last he thrust himself into the sofa corner, and sat,
without saying a word, looking straight before him.
The Pastor entered, his Regina looked at him inquiringly.
"She is watering the flowers," he said, as if to compose her, and he
walked in his quiet way, up and down the room, finally turning toward
Braesig. "What are you thinking of, dear friend?"
"Hell-fire! I am thinking about hell-fire, Herr Pastor!"
"Why of that?" asked the Pastor.
But instead of replying, Braesig sprang to his feet, and said:
"Tell me, Herr Pastor, is it true that there are mountains that vomit
fire?"
"Certainly," said the Pastor.
"And are they good or bad for mankind?"
"The people who live in the neighbourhood consider the eruptions a good
thing, because then the earthquakes are not so violent."
"So? so?" said Braesig, apparently not quite satisfied with the answer.
"But it is true, isn't it," he went on, "that such mountains send forth
flame and smoke, like a chimney?"
"Something so," said the Pastor, who had not the slightest idea what
Braesig was driving at.
"Well," said Braesig, stamping with his foot, "then I wish that the
devil would take Zamel Pomuchelskopp by the nape of his neck, and hold
him over one of those fire-spouting holes till he got his deserts."
"Fie, Braesig!" cried the little Pastorin, "you are a heathen. How can
you utter such an unchristian wish in a minister's house!"
"Frau Pastorin," said Braesig, going back into the sofa-corner, "it
would be a great benefit to mankind."
"Dear Braesig," said the Pastor, "we must remember that these people
used the disgraceful expression without any intention of hurting us."
"It is all one to me," cried Braesig, "with or without intention. He
provoked me with intention, but what he did here without intention was
a thousand times worse. You see, Herr Pastor, one must get angry
sometimes, and we farmers get angry regularly two or three times a
day,--it belongs to the business; but moderately, what I call a sort of
farm-boy anger. For example, yesterday I was having the fallow-ground
marled, and I had ordered the boys to form a line with their carts.
Then I stood in the marl-pit, and all was going nicely. Then, you see,
there came that lubber, Christian Kohlhaas,--a real horned-beast of a
creature,--there he was with his full cart coming back to the pit. 'You
confounded rascal!' said I, 'what under heaven! are you going to bring
the marl back again!' Do you believe, that blockhead looked me right in
the face, and said he wasn't quite ready to empty the cart, and would
go into the line. Well, I was angry, you may be sure; but there are
different sorts of anger. This was a proper farm-boy anger, and that
kind agrees with me, especially after dinner; but here--I can't scold
Pomuchelskopp as I do the farm-boys. It all stays here, I can't get rid
of it. And you will see, Frau Pastorin, to-morrow I shall have that
cursed gout again."
"Braesig," said the Frau Pastorin, "will you do me a favour? Don't tell
Habermann anything of this."
"Eh, why should I, Frau Pastorin? But I will go to little Louise, and
comfort her, and tell her that Samuel Pomuchelskopp is the meanest,
most infamous rascal on the face of the earth."
"No, no," said the Pastor, hastily, "let that go. The child will get
over it, and I hope all will be well again."
"No? Then good-bye," said Braesig, reaching for his cap.
"Surely, Braesig, you will stay to dinner with us?"
"Thank you kindly, Frau Pastorin. There is reason in all things. One
must be angry sometimes, to be sure; but better after dinner than
before. I had better go and work in the marl-pit; but Christian would
do well not to come back today with his full cart to the marl-pit. So
good-bye, once more." And with that he went off.