CHAPTER XXIV

OF ANOTHER TRIP, WHICH DOES NOT DESTROY A CALCULATION, BUT UNEXPECTEDLY

CONCLUDES ONE

ALL this weighed on the good mother's mind, and when she reflected that

Uli and Freneli would both leave besides, that her son-in-law would then

get the reins wholly into his hands, that she would have to run the

house on nothing, be stingy to the poor, and be held accountable for

every cup of flour and for every cake she baked, such a feeling of

misery came over her that she had to sit down and cry, shedding tears

enough to wash her hands in, until even Joggeli came out and told her

not to cry so--that everybody would hear her and would wonder what was

the matter.

What he had said, she answered, didn't amount to anything; she knew that

he had to talk at times. And Freneli also comforted her, telling her not

to take it so hard; things always turned out better than one expected.

But she shook her head and bade them let her alone; she would have to

compose herself--talking was no use. For many days following she sought

composure. They saw her going about silently as if she were revolving

grave things in her mind, or sitting apart now and then when she thought

herself unnoticed, her hands in her lap, and picking up from time to

time the tip of her apron and wiping her eyes with the wrong side of it.

Finally her spirits became lighter; the state of uncertainty seemed to

leave her; she said she felt much better, but she thought she'd like to

go away somewhere; she had such an unsatisfied longing, and she believed

she'd get over it if she could get away for a day or two. This time

Joggeli had no objection; his old wife had made even him anxious. She

could go either to her son or her daughter, whichever she wished! Uli

would drive her, for he had plenty of time now, said he.

No, she didn't want to go there, she said; there was everlasting

quarreling there, and even if she filled her pockets with thalers, she

wouldn't have enough. She thought she'd like to visit cousin Johannes;

they had long promised him a visit, but hadn't kept the promise and she

had never been there. She would see a new road and an unfamiliar

country, and could perhaps best forget what was grieving her. She wanted

to take Freneli along; she too hadn't been away for a long time. They

hadn't taken her with them to Elsie's wedding, and it was only fair to

give the girl a pleasure once in a while.

To the latter plan Joggeli had many objections; but this time he gave in

for his old wife's sake and agreed to get along for a couple of days. In

a glory of color the withered leaves hung on the trees, in the gleam of

their own after-glow; below them, in cheerful green, lay the young

crops, and played merrily with the winking dew-drops that clung to their

tips; and over everything the sky spread itself, mysterious and

fragrant, the impenetrable source of God's wonders. Black crows were

flying across the fields; green woodpeckers hung on the trees; fleet

squirrels ran across the road and, hastily gaining a branch, peeped out

curiously at the passing travelers, while high in the air the snow-geese

sailed on toward a, warmer country in their well-ordered triangle, and

their strange travel-song floated strangely down from their lofty

height.

The mother's judicious eyes roved actively over the whole scene; there

was no end to her comments, and she and Uli exchanged many a shrewd

remark. Especially when they drove through the villages did the

noteworthy things become legion, and there were few houses that did not

offer her opportunity for comment. To sit at home all the time was no

use, said she; one always kept seeing the same things. One ought to

drive around the country from time to time; then one could not merely

gratify his curiosity, but learn a lot too. Folks didn't do things

everywhere alike, and in some places they did better than in others, and

so one could always pick and choose the best. They had not driven much

more than, two hours when she began to suggest that they must give

Blackie something to eat. He was not used to running so long, and they

must bring him home in good condition. "You stop at the next

public-house," she said in response to Uli's objections, "and see if he

won't eat a measure of oats. I'd just as soon have something myself; I'm

actually beginning to be cold."

Arrived there, she said to Uli, "When the horse has his oats, come in."

In the doorway she again turned around and cried, "Do you hear? Come in

then." After the hostess having wiped off the benches in the tavern with

her apron, had asked, "What can I bring you?" and a good bottle and some

tea had been ordered, the women sat down, looked around the room, made

their comments in a low voice, and wondered that it was no later by this

clock. But Uli had probably driven fast; one could see that he had been

in a hurry to get there. When finally the order was brought with the

excuse that it had taken a long time because the water had not been hot

and the wood had refused to burn, the mother told Freneli to call Uli;

she didn't see why he didn't come; she had told him twice. When he had

come and had drunk their health sufficiently, the hostess tried to begin

a conversation, saying that another wedding party had stopped in there

today. The mother laughed out heartily, and Uli was amused too; but

Freneli grew red and angry and remarked that not all the parties on the

road today were wedding parties; that other folks, she supposed, had the

right to go driving on Saturday, too; the road wasn't reserved for

wedding parties.--She shouldn't get so angry, said the hostess; she

didn't know her, but it seemed to her that the young folks were just

right for each other; she hadn't seen such a handsome couple for a long

time. The mother appeased the hostess, saying that she needn't excuse

herself so much; they had had a great laugh about it at home, and had

thought that's the way it would be, and then too the girl had got so

angry.

"It's not nice of you, auntie, to help torment me," said Freneli; "if I

had known this I shouldn't have come along."

"Why, nobody's tormenting you," said her aunt laughing. "Don't be so

silly; many a girl would be tickled to be taken for a bride."

"That doesn't tickle me," said Freneli, "and if I'm not let alone, I'll

go home this minute."

"Why, you can't tie up people's mouths, and you ought to be glad that

they haven't anything worse to say about you," answered her aunt.

"It's bad enough, if folks marry me off to a man that I don't want and

that doesn't want me."

Freneli would have continued indefinitely if they had not hitched up and

driven on. They advanced rapidly. Uli had much to tell as to who owned

this house or that field. As he saw the first of Johannes' fields, his

heart laughed within him. All that he had formerly done there came back

to him; from a distance he pointed everything out, and praised its good

qualities. Then came another field and still another, and they were

driving up to the house before they knew it. Johannes' people were busy

putting up sauerkraut in the front shed; the whole household was

gathered there. All raised their heads as the unexpected little wagon

came along. At first the strangers were not recognized; then the cry

arose: "It's Uli, it's Uli," and the children sprang down from the

porch; then Johannes said, "Cousin Joggeli's wife is with him! What the

dickens has got into her? What does she want?"

He and his wife now stepped forward and reached up their hands in

welcome, and his wife said, "God bless you, Uli, are you bringing your

wife with you?"

Then the mistress laughed heartily again, and said, "There you have it,

whether you will or no; that's the way it is; why, everybody says so."

"Everywhere they take us for a wedding party," explained Uli, "because

we're driving along on Saturday, when so many folks get married."

"Ho, and not only that," said Johannes, "but it strikes me that you

wouldn't make a bad couple."

"You hear, Freneli," said her aunt, "Johannes says so too; there's no

use fighting it any more."

With Freneli tears had been contending with smiles, anger with jest;

finally she gained the mastery over herself, so as not to make a scene

before strangers, and replied, "I've always heard that if there was to

be a marriage, two people had to want it; but in this case nobody wants

it, and so I don't see how anything is to come of it."

"What isn't, can be," said Johannes' wife; "such things often come

unexpectedly."

"I don't feel any traces of it," said Freneli, but then broke off and

held out her hand again, saying how bold it had been of her to go along;

but her aunt had wished it, and she could make the excuses if they were

put to expense.

"I'm very glad you've come," said the housewife, and urgently bade them

come in, although the visitors, said they would not keep her from her

work, but would stay outside, it was so nice and pleasant in the open.

But, protest as they might that they needed nothing and had just eaten,

a fire was made and only by a thrice repeated trip to the kitchen could

a, formal meal be prevented, and hospitality reduced to a pot of coffee.

Freneli had soon made friends with the oldest daughter, who had grown

from an active child into a beautiful young girl, and had to inspect all

her treasures. Out of due respect, Uli soon withdrew, and the older

people were left alone.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Uli's mistress began the conversation,

saying that she'd have to come out with the reason for her journey; she

hadn't known any better place to go for advice and help than just here.

Johannes had so often helped 'em that she thought he wouldn't leave 'em

in the lurch this time either. Everything had gone so well with 'em that

it had been a real pleasure. To be sure, Uli had got Elsie into his head

for awhile; but the girl herself had been to blame for that, and she

thought Uli had seen in the end that she was no suitable match for him.

Then misfortune had taken them to the Gurnigel, and there Elsie had

picked up a husband, and since then everything had been ruined. Her

Johannes was carrying on; her son-in-law wasn't as he should be, but

poked his nose into everything and thought she ought not to spend

anything more in her housekeeping. Elsie was always quarreling with

Freneli, and Freneli was going to leave on account of it; Uli too;

everything came on her, and she didn't know for the life of her what to

do; many a night she hadn't closed an eye and just cried and cried

because such misfortune had come to her in her old age. Then an idea had

come to her; surely no sensible person could make any objection if they

should lease out their farm, and that would take the load off her. And

then she had thought that they couldn't possibly get a better tenant

than Uli, who'd look after everything for them and was good and honest;

and Uli could make his fortune there, too, for he shouldn't be treated

badly, she would see to that; it would be his profit as well as theirs.

"That's all well and good," said Johannes; "but don't be angry, cousin,

only I must ask whether you think that every one will consent? There's a

lot of folks have to have their say in this, if it's to be done. What

will your folks say? Joggeli's awfully queer sometimes. And your

children will put in their oar too and want to make the farming as

profitable as possible. Uli has a risky undertaking. A single bad year,

with sickness of the stock or the like, can ruin him. On such a farm a

thousand francs more or less in earnings can scarcely be seen, whereas

in a single year four or five thousand can be lost."

"Cousin Johannes," said she, "you mustn't think we're such heartless

creatures as to ruin our tenant on account of a single bad year. If we

had the farm, shouldn't we have the bad year ourselves, and why should

the tenant have to stand the loss if it's too dry or too wet? It's our

farm all the time, and how can he avoid it? It's often seemed cruel to

me when the leaseholder always has to pay the same rent, whether or no.

No, cousin, Joggeli's queer, but he's not the worst, and, if everything

else failed, it isn't as if I didn't have something of my own to help

out with."

"No harm intended," said Johannes; "but to do a thing properly one has

to mention everything. I should be awfully glad of it, for your sake and

for Uli's and for my own too; for I set some store by Uli. It's true

that he's almost as dear to me as my own child, and I won't be stingy if

I can do anything for him. He told me about Elsie, too, and I tried to

talk him out of it. He didn't like it at the time, as I could well see.

I wonder whether he'll say anything about it to me now. Shall I talk to

him about this affair, and try to sound him and see what he thinks, or

shall I talk right out bluntly, or do you want to talk with Joggeli

first?"

"I'd rather be clear about Uli and Freneli, and that's why I came with

'em," said she. "If I talk to Joggeli about it and then find out later

that they're not willing, I'll never hear the last of it and how silly

and stupid I was; you know he's so queer and never gives up a grudge;

and still he's not the worst either. If you're willing, cousin, then

sound Uli and see what he says, drag the secret out of him; I'd like it

very much if I knew where he stands. It seems to me I'd be in heaven if

the business was all fixed up. Don't you like the girl too?" asked his

cousin. And Johannes and his wife praised her highly, saying how pretty

and attractive she was, and the former promised to help as much as he

could.

That evening it was not convenient; there was no opportunity to be alone

with Uli. But the next morning, as soon as they had breakfasted,

Johannes asked Uli if he would go out to the pasture with him; he would

like to show him what he had sowed and ask him about this and that.

Uli's mistress admonished them not to stay too long, for they wanted to

set out in good season so as not to get home too late. While Johannes's

wife was urging her to stay over another night the men strolled away.

It was another beautiful day. One steeple after another proclaimed that

it was the Lord's day, that hearts should open to the Lord and keep

Sabbath with Him, to receive His peace and feel His love. The two

wanderers felt the solemnity of it; over many a field they walked with

little speech. Then they came to the edge of the woods, whence they

could see the valley floating in the wonderful autumn haze and hear the

peal of the bells from many steeples, calling the people together to

take into their open hearts the seed that bears sixty and a hundredfold

on good soil. Silently they sat down there and drew in through the

wide-open gates of their eyes and ears the glorious sermon of the Lord,

which can be heard without words every day in all countries; and in deep

reverence they heard the tones reecho in the sanctuary of their souls.

At last Johannes asked, "You're not going to stay on Slough Farm?"

"No," said Uli. "Not that I'm angry with them about Elsie. I'm glad it

turned out so. Now it's over I can see that I shouldn't have had a happy

hour with her, and that with such an ugly, lazy hussy no amount of money

would make a man happy. I can't understand what I was thinking of. But I

don't want to stay. The son-in-law is always there, wants to start

running things, and swindles the mistress wherever he can, so that I

can't bear to see it; and I won't take orders from him."

"But what do you want?" asked Johannes.

"That's just what I'd like to talk to you about," said Uli. "I could get

places enough; I could go to their son, too, and he'd give me as much

pay as I wanted. But I don't know; being a servant isn't exactly

unsatisfactory, but it seems to me that, if I want to start out for

myself, now's the time. I'm in the thirties, and almost beginning to get

old."

"Oh, that's it!" said Johannes. "Have you got marrying into your head?"

"Not especially," said Uli. "But if I'm going to marry it ought to be

soon, and a man ought to start for himself, too, while he's still

active. But I don't know what to do. I haven't enough for anything worth

while, for what's two thousand francs to make a decent start with? I

keep thinking about what you said, that you can't get the rent out of a

little farm, and that a leaseholder can't very well take over a big

place unless he has money in hand, and still he'll be ruined on a little

one."

"Ho," said Johannes, "two thousand francs is something, and there's

farms here and there with the stock all on 'em, where you can get the

stock too on appraisal, so that you could keep your cash in hand for

your own dealings, and then if you needed more you'd probably find folks

that had money."

"Yes, but they won't give it to me. If a man wants money he's got to

have good security, or guarantors, and where'd he get 'em?"

"Well, Uli," said Johannes, "that's just what I told you: a good name is

good security. Fifteen years ago I wouldn't have lent you fifteen cents;

but today, if you need two or three thousand francs, you can have 'em on

a simple note; or if you want me to indorse your note, just say so. What

are folks in the world for if not to help each other?"

"That's good news," said Uli; "I wouldn't have dared to think of that;

and if I knew of anything, I'd take right hold."

"I wouldn't," said Johannes. "I'd go looking for a wife first, and then

when I had one I'd make my start. Lots of men have been ruined before

now, only because their wives didn't suit their business, or wouldn't.

To carry on a household well, there must be harmony in it. Once you've

got a wife and the two of you choose a place to buy or let that suits

you both, you've gained a lot. Or have you something of the kind under

way?"

"No," said Uli. "I know of one, but she wouldn't take me."

"Why not?" asked Johannes. "Is it another rich farmer's daughter?"

"No," said Uli, "it's the girl that came along today. She hasn't much

money; but whoever gets her is lucky. I've often thought that with her a

man would go farther, even though she hasn't a cent, than with the rich

Elsie. Whatever she takes hold of she does well; she has luck with

everything, and there's nothing she doesn't understand. I don't think

she's ever tired; she's first in the morning and last at night, and

never idle all day. You never have to wait for meals, she never forgets

the maids, and you'd think she couldn't lose her temper; the more there

is to do, the merrier she gets, whereas most people get cross when

they've got a lot to do, and it's no fun to be around. She's thrifty in

everything and yet she's good to the poor, and when anybody gets sick

she can't look after him enough. There's nobody like her far and wide."

"But why shouldn't you get her?" asked Johannes. "Does she hate you?"

"Not exactly," said Uli. "She's nice to me; when she can do me a favor

she never says no, and when she sees that I'd like to have something

done she helps me as much as she can; and she never tries to put

obstacles in the way, like so many women, who, when they see you

absolutely ought to do one thing, absolutely want something else and

hinder you as much as they can. But still she's rather proud, and she

can't forget that she comes of a distinguished family, even if she is

illegitimate. If anybody gets anywhere near her she goes for him as if

she'd eat him, and I wouldn't advise anybody to try to flirt with her

and put hands on her, as is customary in lots of places. More than one

has got a good box from her."

"But that doesn't at all mean that she wouldn't have you," said

Johannes. "If she won't let herself be fingered by everybody, I can't

think any the less of her for it."

"Well, then there's something else," said Uli. "I daren't think of

Freneli any more. Wouldn't she say to me, 'Now that you can't have the

rich one, I'm to be good enough for you, am I? If you could prefer that

green, yellow Elsie to me, then I don't want you now, either; I don't

want a fellow who has gone around sweethearting with such a withered

grass-blade as that.' She's bound to give me that answer. And still I

thought of Freneli more than I did of Elsie all through the affair; only

now I begin to see that I've loved Freneli more and more, and if I had

the girl I'd guarantee to take over a farm and make more on it than

anybody else. But now it's too late; she won't have me; she's awfully

peculiar."

"Ho!" said Johannes, "never lose your courage as long as a girl's

single. They're the queerest sort of ducks and generally do just the

opposite of what you expect. If that's the way it is I'd have a try; the

girl pleases me."

"No, master, I wouldn't ask that girl for a hundred crowns. I know well

enough that it will almost break my heart if I have to go away from her

and can't see her every day any more. But if I asked her and she should

despise me and say no, I think I'd hang myself on the garret ladder. By

the Almighty, I couldn't stand it if another man led her off to church;

I believe I'd shoot him. But she won't marry, she'll stay single."

Then Johannes began to laugh very heartily and asked how he knew that

such a girl, twenty-three years old, would stay single.

[Illustration: IN AMBUSH BENJAMIN VAUTIER]

"Oh," said Uli, "she won't have anybody; I don't know who'd be good

enough for her."

Now Johannes said they had better think about getting home before church

was out; he didn't wish to run into the church-goers. Uli followed him,

speaking little, and what he said was concerned only with Freneli, now

one thing and then another, and he asked Johannes to promise that he

wouldn't let a word that Uli had told him cross his lips. "You

simpleton," said Johannes, "who should I tell?"

Meanwhile Uli's mistress had long since been quivering with impatience,

and as soon as Uli and his old master entered the room she said to him,

"Go up to the room we slept in and see what Freneli's doing. Tell her to

pack up; we want to start out." Uli found the girl standing before a

table, folding up one of her aunt's aprons. He stepped softly up behind

her, put his arm about her quite gently, and said, "Your aunt's in a

hurry." Freneli turned swiftly about, and looked silently up at Uli, as

if surprised at this unwonted familiarity, and the latter asked, "Are

you still angry at me?"

"I've never been angry at you," she replied.

"Then give me a kiss; you've never given me one," answered Uli, and bent

down.

At that instant Freneli twisted away so powerfully that he was driven

back half across the room; and still it seemed to him as if he had got

his kiss; he thought he felt Freneli's lips quite distinctly on one

spot. But the latter waggishly gave him a dressing down, intimating that

she thought he was too old for such tricks, and probably her aunt hadn't

sent him up to take her time with such foolishness. He must think what

Stini, his old sweetheart, would say to it if she came in; she didn't

went to have a wrestling match with her, like Yrsi. At the same time she

laughed so that Uli felt quite crushed and got out as soon as he could.

They were later in setting out than they had expected, for as they were

about to hitch up they had to sit down to a meal for which Johannes's

wife had summoned her whole culinary skill and the entire resources of

her house. Although Uli's mistress kept saying time after time, "Good

heavens, who can eat of every dish?" still there was no end of pressing

them, and she was not left in peace until she declared that she simply

couldn't swallow another thing; if she was to eat another bite, she'd

burst.

While Uli was hitching up she put new coins into the hands of her

cousin's children, although the latter tried to refuse them, and the

parents told her not to go to such expense and admonished the children

not to be so bold as to take them. When they took them just the same and

ran and showed the treasure to their mother, she said, "Oh, what a thing

to do; it makes us ashamed." And then her cousin said it was not worth

talking about, and urged them to come very soon and visit them, and get

back what this visit had cost them. They would surely come, was the

answer; but they shouldn't have hurried so and should have stayed

another day. So amid much talk they finally reached their little wagon

and continued talking as they drove away, Freneli telling her aunt all

that she had noticed, which was indeed not a little; for she had seen

many things of which she said, "If I was younger and could work better

I'd have that too." To all this Uli said nothing, and only paid such

strict attention to his Blackie, which he made trot so sharply that his

mistress finally said, "Uli, is anything the matter with you? Aren't you

driving Blackie too hard? He's not used to running so." Uli excused

himself and received orders to stop when they had gone something more

than halfway. * * *

Without paying attention to the conversation of the two women, Uli drove

to the designated inn. The hostess welcomed them and led them into a

special room, as the mother had desired, after telling Uli to come right

in. Then she ordered wine and a couple of plates with something to eat;

driving had made them hungrier than they would have believed possible.

The order was brought, but Uli was missing. The hostess had been sent

out after him, and came back and said she had told him; but still he did

not come. Then the mistress said, "Go, Freneli, and tell him to come at

once." Freneli hesitated and thought they oughtn't to compel him; if he

was hungry or thirsty he'd come all right. "If you won't go," said her

aunt, "I'll have to go myself." Then Freneli went out in a temper, and

with stinging words drove Uli along, who had been standing in the sulks

by the bowling alley and had at first refused to come. He could stay

where he was, for all of her, she said; but her aunt had ordered it. It

was she that wanted him to come; she herself, Freneli, had no desire to

run after him any more.

Uli came at last, giving little answer to the many reproaches of his

mistress for having to be forced to come. But she filled his glass

heartily, forced him to eat, and kept up a chatter of talk--how well she

had liked it at Cousin Johannes' house, and how she could now see where

Uli had got his training. But he must have been especially good to them,

too, for the children still hung upon him and their parents loved him

almost like a son. "I suppose you'll want to go back to them, when you

leave us."

"No," said Uli.

"It's not customary to ask, to be sure; but will you tell me where you

are going?" asked his mistress.

"I don't know yet," said Uli; "I haven't been in a hurry to take a

place, although I could have had several."

"Well then, stay with us; that's the best thing for both of us; we're

accustomed to each other now."

"I hope you won't take it ill of me," he said; "but I don't intend to be

a servant any more."

"Have you something else?" she asked.

"No," he answered.

"Well, if you don't want to be a servant any more, suppose we make you

tenant on our farm."

This speech affected Uli like a sudden blow. He dropped his mutton-laden

fork on his plate, but kept his mouth open, turned his saucer eyes upon

his mistress and stared at her as if she had come down from the moon.

Freneli, who had been standing at the window, vexed at Uli's slow

eating, turned swiftly about and opened eyes and ears to see what would

happen.

"Yes, look at me all you want," said the mistress to Uli; "I mean it

seriously; if you won't stay as servant would you stay as leaseholder?"

"Mistress," said Uli at last, "how should I be able to become your

tenant? I'm not able; I'd have to be lots better off than I am. You're

only making game of me."

"No, Uli, I mean it," said his mistress, "and your not having money

doesn't matter; we could arrange it so that it wouldn't cost you

anything to begin; the whole place is furnished."

"But what do you suppose, mistress," exclaimed Uli; "even if you did

this, who would be my security? A single bad year on such a farm would

ruin me. The place is too big for me."

"Ho, Uli, that can be managed, and we're not such hard-hearted wretches

as to let a tenant that suits us be ruined on account of a single year.

Just say you're willing, and we'll fix all that."

"Well, mistress," said Uli, "even so; but who would look after the

housekeeping for me? There's a lot to do there."

"Ho, take a wife," said she.

"That's easily said," answered Uli; "but where should I find one that

would be the right person for it and that would have me?"

"Don't you know of anybody?" asked the mistress.

At that Uli's voice stuck in his throat, and hesitating and embarrassed,

he poked around on his plate with his fork. But Freneli said quickly

that it seemed to her it was time to go, for Blackie must have eaten his

oats long ago and Uli had probably had enough by this time; they, could

continue their jokes another day.

Without listening to these words her aunt finally said, "Don't you know

of anybody? For I do."

Again Uli turned saucer eyes upon her; Freneli said she was curious too.

Her aunt, with undisturbed, playful ease, one hand on the table, her

broad back rested comfortably against her chair, said, "Give a guess;

you know her." Uli looked around at the walls; he could not find the

right word; he felt as if he had a whole bagful of mashed potatoes in

his mouth. Freneli tripped up impatiently behind her aunt, remarking

that they ought to start out, as it was getting dark. Her aunt, however,

did not listen to Freneli, but went on, "Can't you think of her? You

know her well. She's a hard-working girl, but acts up a little at times,

and if you don't quarrel you can have a very good life together."

Thereupon she laughed very heartily, and looked first at one and then

the other.

Then Uli looked up; but before he had gulped out an answer Freneli

intervened, and said, "Go and hitch up; Auntie, one can carry a joke too

far, too. I wish I'd never gone along. I don't know why I can't be left

in peace. Yesterday other folks made me angry, and today you're worse

still. That's not kind, Auntie."

Uli had stood up to go out; but his mistress said, "Sit down and listen.

I'm in earnest; I've said to Joggeli many a time that there never were

two people better fitted for each other than you two; it was as if you'd

grown up for each other."

"But Auntie," cried Freneli, "for goodness gracious sake, do stop, or

I'll run away. I won't be auctioned off like a cow. Wait till Christmas;

then I'll get out of your sight, or even before, if I'm so displeasing

to you. Why do you take so much useless pains to bring two people

together that don't want each other? Uli cares for me just as much as I

do for him, and the sooner we part company the gladder I'll be."

But now Uli's tongue was loosened and he said, "Freneli, don't be so

angry with me; I can't help this. But this much let me tell you; even if

you do hate me, I've loved you this long time, and wouldn't want a

better wife. Any one would be happy with you; if you'll have me, I'd be

only too happy."

"Oh, ho!" said Freneli, "now that you hear about the farm and that you'd

get it in lease if you had a wife, all at once I'll just suit you.

You're a cheerful fellow! If you only got the farm you'd marry a hussy

from the gutter, or a fence-post, wouldn't you? But oh, ho ho!" she

laughed scornfully, "you've struck the wrong girl; I don't have to have

a husband; I don't want any, and least of all a man that would marry a

lamp-wick if there was a little oil on it. If you won't start off I'll

walk home alone," and with that she was about to dart out of the door.

But Uli caught her and held her with a strong arm, resist as she would,

saying, "No, truly, Freneli, you wrong me. If I could have you, I'd go

out into the wilderness, where I'd have to clear the whole land before I

could plant it. It's true that when Elsie flirted so with me, the farm

went to my head and I'd have married her just on that account. But I'd

have committed a heavy sin; for even then you were in my heart, and I

always liked to see you a hundred times better than her. Every time I

saw her I was frightened; but when I met you my heart always jumped for

joy. Just ask Johannes; I told him this morning that I didn't know where

under the sun I could find a better wife than you."

"Let me go," cried Freneli, who had carried on like an angry cat during

all this handsome speech and had not even refrained from pinching and

scratching.

"I'll let you go," said Uli, who manfully bore the scratching and

pinching; "but you mustn't suspect me of wanting you only in case I

could be tenant on the farm. You must believe that I love you anyway."

"I make no promises," cried Freneli, and she pulled herself free with

all her might, and fled to the other end of the table.

"Why, you act just like a wild-cat," cried her aunt. "I never saw such a

girl. But now be sensible, come and sit down beside me. Will you come or

not? I'll never say another kind word to you as long as I live if you

won't sit down here a minute and keep still. Uli, order another bottle.

Keep still now, girl, and don't interrupt me," continued her aunt, and

she went on to tell how she should feel if they both went away; what

evil days awaited her; shed painful tears over her own children, and

said that she could still be made happy if it might turn out as she had

thought it through in her sleepless nights. If two people could be happy

together, they were the ones. She had often told Joggeli that she had

never seen two people that understood each other so well in their work

and were so helpful to each other. If they kept on in the same way they

must become very prosperous. They would do whatever they could to help

them, she and Joggeli. They weren't like some proprietors, who weren't

happy unless a tenant was ruined on their place every other year, and

who spent sleepless nights planning to raise the rent when the tenant

was able to pay the whole amount on time, because they were afraid he

had got it too cheap. Truly, they'd do by her as by their own children,

and Freneli would have a dowry that no farmer's daughter need be ashamed

of. But if that didn't suit her and Freneli carried on so, then she

didn't know what to do; she'd rather never go home again. She wouldn't

reproach her; but she surely hadn't deserved to have Freneli act so now;

she had always done by her as she thought right. And now Freneli was

behaving in this way just to grieve her--that she could see; she hadn't

been the same to her for a long time. And the good woman wept right

heartily.

"But, Auntie," said Freneli, "how can you talk so? You've been a mother

to me; I've always looked on you as such, and if I had to go through

fire for you I wouldn't hesitate a minute. But I won't be forced upon

such a puppy who doesn't want me. If I have to have a husband I want one

who loves me and takes me for my own sake, not one that takes me along

with the other cows as part of the lease."

"How can you talk so?" asked her aunt. "Didn't you hear him say he's

loved you this long time?"

"Yes," said Freneli, "that's what they all say, one with another; but if

they all choked on that lie there wouldn't be many weddings. He's no

better than the rest, I guess; if you hadn't talked about the farm

first, then you could have seen how much he'd have been in love with me.

And it's not right of you to tell me nothing about all this, or to fling

me plumb at his head like a pine-cone thrown to a sow. If you'd confided

in me first I could have told you what's trumps with Uli. What he says

is: 'Gold, I love you;' and then he expects us to hear: 'Girl, I love

you.'"

"You're a queer Jenny," said her aunt, "and you act as if you was the

daughter of a lord."

"That's just it, Auntie! Just because I'm only a poor girl, it's proper

for me to hold myself high and not let myself be treated like a handful

of fodder. I think I have more right to it than many a high-born girl,

no matter whether she's the daughter of a lord or a farmer."

"But, Freneli," protested Uli, "how can I change that, and do I have to

pay for it? You know well in your heart that I love you, and I knew just

as little of what your aunt had in mind as you; and so it's not right of

you to vent your anger on me."

"Ah," said Freneli, "now I begin to see that the whole thing was a

put-up job; otherwise you wouldn't excuse yourself before I accused you.

That's worse than ever, and I won't listen to another word; I won't let

myself be caught like a fish in a net."

With that Freneli again tried to get up and run out; but her aunt held

her fast by her bodice, saying that she was the wildest and most

suspicious creature under the sun. Since when did she set traps for her?

It was true that she had wanted to visit her cousin about this affair,

and for that reason she had taken them both along. But what she had in

mind nobody knew, not even Joggeli, much less Uli. She had commissioned

her cousin to worm Uli's secrets out of him, and it was true that Uli

had praised Freneli to the skies, so that her cousin had told her that

Uli would take Freneli any time--the sooner the better; but that Uli was

afraid to say anything to Freneli for fear she'd hold up Elsie against

him. At that she had thought that she would speak, if Uli was afraid to;

for that Uli didn't suit the girl, nobody could convince her; her eyes

weren't in the back of her head yet. So Uli couldn't help it at all.

"But then why did he come into the room today while I was packing up and

want to give me a kiss? He never did that before."

"Oh," said Uli, "I'll just tell you. After I had talked with old master

today you were in my mind more than ever, and I thought I'd give

everything I had if I knew whether you loved me and would have me. I

didn't know a thing about the farm. Then when I found you alone,

something came over me, I didn't know what; I felt a sort of longing in

my arm; I had to touch you and ask for a kiss. At first I thought I had

had one; but then later I thought it couldn't have been, or else you;

wouldn't have pushed me out into the room so wildly. I thought you

didn't care for me, and that made me so sad at heart that I wished

Christmas was here and I could go away; indeed I was going far, far away

down into Italy, so that nobody would ever hear anything of me. And I

feel so still, Freneli, if you won't have me. I don't want the lease,

and I'll go away and away, as far as my feet will carry me, and no one

shall ever know where I've gone."

He had stood up and stepped up to Freneli, and tears stood in his honest

eyes; while they were rolling down her aunt's cheeks. Then Freneli looked

up at him and her eyes grew moist, though mockery and defiance still

quivered about her mouth; but the repressed love broke through and began

to send its shining rays out of her eyes, while her maidenly reluctance

cast up her lips as bulwark against her surrender to his manly insistence.

And while her eyes radiated love, still there came forth from behind the

pouting lips the mocking words: "But, Uli, what will Stini say, if you're

after another girl so soon? Won't she sing to you:

'A dove-cot would be just as true:

It's off with the old love, on with the new.'"

"But how can you play the fool with him so?" queried her aunt; "you see

he's in earnest. If I was in his place I'd turn my back on you and tell

you to whistle for me if you wanted me."

"He's free to do it, Auntie, and you don't know but I wish he would,"

said Freneli.

"No you don't," retorted her aunt; "I can hear that in your voice. And

Uli, if you're not a stupid, you'll put your arms around her this

minute; she won't shove you out into the room now, trust me."

But her aunt was mistaken. Once more the girl summoned all her strength,

and whirled about so sharply that she almost shook off Uli again. But

her strength did not hold out. She fell on Uli's breast and broke out in

loud, almost convulsive weeping. The two others almost became

frightened, as her sobbing seemed to have no end; they did not

understand what was the matter. Uli comforted her as well as he could,

and begged her not to go on so: if she'd rather not have him, he could

go away, he wouldn't torment her. Her aunt was vexed at first and told

her she was silly; that in her day girls hadn't put a hound to shame

with their howling when they found a sweetheart. But then she became

alarmed and said she wouldn't force the girl; if she was unwilling to

have Uli she could do what she liked for all of her. Only for goodness

sake she shouldn't go on so; the innkeepers might wonder what was

happening.

Finally Freneli recovered enough to tell them just to leave her in

peace; that she would try to compose herself. She had been a poor orphan

all her life, and an outcast from childhood. No father had ever taken

her on his lap, no mother ever kissed her; never had she had a breast to

lay her head on. She had often thought it wouldn't be hard even to die,

if only she could sit on somebody's lap and clasp somebody around the

neck; but during all her childhood nobody had loved her, and she had had

no home. She couldn't say how often she had wept alone. Her longing had

always and always been to have somebody that she could love with all her

heart and all her soul; to find somebody on whose breast she could hide

her head at all times. She had never found a chum to satisfy her

longing. And so when folks talked to her about marrying, she had thought

she never would unless she could believe from the bottom of her heart

that she had found the breast on which to lay her head in joy and

sorrow, and which would be true to her in life and death. But she had

found none that she could have such faith in. She loved Uli, had loved

him long, more than she could say; but this faith in him she hadn't yet

been able to have. And if she was deceived this time, if Uli's love and

loyalty weren't true and genuine, then her last hope would be gone, then

she'd never find the breast she sought, and would have to die unhappy.

That was why she was so afraid, and she begged them on her knees to

leave her in peace, so that she could consider thoroughly what was best

for her to do. Oh, they didn't know how a poor orphan felt, that had

never sat on her father's lap, or been kissed by her mother!

"You're a dear silly child," said her aunt, wiping her wet cheeks. "If

I'd known that that's what you wanted I certainly wouldn't have grudged

you an extra kiss now and then. But why didn't you say so? A body can't

think of everything; when you have to plan all day long what to give

your folks to eat, you don't stop to think about who's to be kissed."

Uli said he had deserved it; it only served him right, and he ought to

have known that it would be so. But if she could look into his heart

she'd see how much he loved her and how honestly. He wouldn't excuse

himself; he had thought of marrying several times, but never had he

loved any one as he did her. But he wouldn't coerce her; he would simply

have to be content to accept her will in the matter.

"Why, you can just hear," said her aunt, "how much he loves you. Come,

take your glass and drink health to Uli, and promise him that you'll be

the wife of the leaseholder of Slough Farm."

Freneli stood up, took her glass and drank the health, but made no

promise, only begging them to leave her in peace for today, and say no

more about it; tomorrow, if must be, she would give her answer.

"You're a queer Jenny," said her aunt. "Well then, Uli, hitch up; our

folks will wonder where we are."

Outside, the stars were twinkling against the dark-blue background;

small wisps of white mist hovered over the moist meadows; single

streamers rose along the valley slopes; mild breezes rocked the faded

foliage; here and there on the pasture a forgotten cow tinkled her bell

for her forgetful master; here and there a frolicsome lad sent his merry

cry flying over hill and dale. The commotion of the day and the driving

lulled the old woman into deep sleep, and Uli, with tense muscles, held

in the wildly racing Blackie to a moderately fast pace; Freneli was

alone in the wide world. As far off in the distant sky the stars floated

in the limitless space of the unfathomable blue ocean, each by itself in

its solitary course, so she felt herself again to be the poor, solitary,

forsaken girl in the great turmoil of the universe. When she had left

aunt and uncle, when they were dead, she would have no one left on

earth; no house for a refuge in time of sickness; no one to tell her

troubles to; no eye to laugh and weep with her; no person that would

weep when she should die; yes, perhaps no one who would escort her

coffin to that narrow, cold resting-place that they would some day have

to assign her. She was alone; solitary and forsaken she was to wander

through the turmoil of the world to her lonely grave; perhaps a long

journey through many, many lonely years, more bowed, more discouraged

and powerless from year to year--an old, withered, despised creature, to

whom scarce any would give refuge, even though begged for it in the name

of the Lord. New sorrow quivered in her heart, lamentations were about

to well up. Why did the good Father, who was called Love, let such poor

children, who had nobody in the world, live, to be cast out in

childhood, seduced in their prime, despised in old age? But then she

began to feel that she was sinning against God, who had given her more

than many had, who had preserved her innocence to this day, and had so

formed and developed her that an abundant living seemed secured to her

if God preserved her health. Little by little, as the hill-tops and the

tree-tops peeped out of the mist, so the love-tokens which God had

visibly scattered through her life began to appear--how she had been

guarded here and there, how she had enjoyed many more cheerful days than

many, many poor children, and how she had found parents too, much better

than other children had, who, if they had not taken her to their hearts

like father and mother, had still loved her and so brought her up that

she could face all people with the feeling that she was looked upon as a

real human being. No, she might not complain of her good Father up

yonder; she felt that His hand had been over her. And was His hand not

over her still? Had He perhaps taken compassion on the poor lonely girl?

Had He decreed, since she had remained faithful till then and tried to

keep herself unspotted by sin, to satisfy now the longing of her heart,

to give her a faithful breast to lay her head on-something of her own,

so that one day somebody would weep at her death, somebody escort her on

the sad road to the gruesome grave? Was it perhaps Uli, the loyal,

skilful servant, whom she had loved so long in her reserved heart; whom

she could reproach with nothing save his mistake with Elsie, and that he

too had been seized by the delusion that money makes happiness; who had

so faithfully and honestly laid bare his heart and repented of his

error? Was it not a strange dispensation that they had both come to this

particular place, that Uli had not gone away before, that Elsie had had

to marry, that the desire had come to her aunt to give the lease of the

farm to Uli? Was it not wonderful how all that fitted in together; was

not the Father's kind hand evident in it? Should she scorn what was

offered her? Was it something hard or repulsive that was asked of her?

Now her spirit unveiled its pictures, peopled the desolate future with

them. Uli was her husband; she had taken root in life, in the broad

world; they were the centre about which a great household revolved,

circling about their will. In a hundred different forms this picture

rose before her eyes, and ever fairer and lovelier became the harmony of

its colors. She no longer knew that she was driving in the wagon; her

heart felt as light and happy as if she were already breathing the air

of that world where there is no more care, no more sorrow--but just then

the wagon bumped over a stone.

Freneli did not feel it; but her aunt awoke with a long yawn and asked,

finding it hard to collect her thoughts, "Where are we, hey? I haven't

been asleep, I hope."

Uli said, "If you look sharply, you can see our light yonder through the

trees."

"Gracious, how I have slept! I wouldn't have believed it. If only

Joggeli doesn't scold because we're so late."

"It doesn't matter," said Uli; "and Blackie can rest tomorrow; we don't

need him."

"Well, well," said his mistress, "then that's all the better. But when

horses get home late and have to start out early, that's maltreatment.

Just imagine how we'd feel if they did the same to us--run, run all the

time, and no time for eating and sleeping."

As they heard the approaching wagon, all the inhabitants of Slough Farm

rushed out of the doors with candles and lanterns, some to the horse,

others to the wagon; even Joggeli limped up, saying, "I thought you

wouldn't get here today, thought something had happened."

The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 08 Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English · 第 24 / 29 章