When they had gone a short distance, Hans, who had been looking rather
grave, whispered into his brother's ear, "Toni, do not say this to
Nanny--but how shall we know where grandfather's house is? We may
wander among the mountains all day long and never find it."
"God will lead us right," answered the trusting boy, "and give us
strength for the long journey. Only think, we have been up all night,
and are not tired yet. But, Nanny," he said, turning to his sister,
"you must go to sleep now; lie down and shut your little eyes."
The boys stopped, folded up their coats, putting them under her head for
a pillow; and, being protected from the sun's rays by a sort of awning
formed of green boughs, she snuggled her head down and was soon fast
asleep.
It was some hours before Nanny awoke. They had passed through some
villages without stopping in any, and were now beginning to feel very
hungry. It was early dawn when they had their drink of milk, and they
had tasted nothing since. The little girl began to cry piteously, but
Toni comforted her, promising they would get something to eat the very
next place they came to. Just at that moment a cart filled with
potatoes passed them; and as they followed in its track they found, to
their great joy, that here and there one or two had fallen on the road,
so they were thankfully gathered up and put into Nanny's apron, the
carter meanwhile having vanished out of sight. Some distance in front
was a large meadow, where a flock of sheep was feeding. When they came
near they saw the shepherd in the act of warming his breakfast over a
fire of sticks he had just kindled. The boys, running up to him, asked
leave to bake their potatoes in the ashes. This was readily granted;
and not only that--the man kindly shared his meal with the hungry
children, giving each of them some porridge and a slice of bread.
How nice it tasted! and how happily they sat round the fire, peeling
their potatoes and talking to their new friend!
When they had finished breakfast, the boys, who had been on their feet
all night, lay down on a green bank to rest, and being very weary soon
fell asleep. Manny was quite refreshed after her nap and hearty meal,
and amused herself meanwhile with the sheep and lambs, who soon became
so friendly that they would let her pat and fondle them as much as she
liked.
After an hour's time they were again on their journey, and had scarcely
proceeded half a mile when a cart laden with wood passed by. The man
belonging to it was walking by the side of his horses (his "browns," as
he called them), and stopping to speak to our little friends, he asked
them where they had come from and whither they were going. When he had
heard their simple tale he looked kindly at them, and said, "You have
come a long way, and must be weary, my boys; I will give you a lift.
Step out, my little lass." So saying he lifted Nanny out of her cart,
and hanging it at the back of his waggon, was going to help them, when
with one leap they sprang up and placed themselves on a log of wood he
had put across to serve as a seat. "There now," he continued, "I can
take you ten miles on your way. I wish it had been farther, but I must
then unlade my cart and return back again."
This was a pleasant and most unexpected rest. It passed only too
quickly. They were not long in reaching the place to which the man was
bound, when, having deposited his load of wood and taken a kind leave of
the children, he drove off, followed by many a loud and hearty "Thank
you" from his grateful little friends.
It was now mid-day, and they began to wonder where they should dine. It
happened, as they passed through the next village, that the peasants
were just returning from their work. As may be supposed, the little
pilgrims attracted observation, and many questions were asked by one and
another till their story was told. Hans, whose thoughts were at that
time naturally intent on the subject of dinner, could at last bear it no
longer, and said frankly, "You have questioned us about all sorts of
things, but no one has asked if we are hungry."
"Well said, little fellow," they answered, much amused at this practical
hint. Then every one was more anxious than the other to show
hospitality to the friendless orphans, till the schoolmaster settled the
point by taking them home with him. His pretty house was close by, and
having requested his wife, who was in the act of serving up the dinner,
to let them have it on the grass, the table was brought out, and they
sat down to baked fruit and pancakes--undreamt-of luxuries to the little
travellers, who five minutes before knew not where they were to get a
piece of bread. To Nanny it recalled the old home, and, throwing her
arms round the good woman's neck, she told her how sometimes, when she
had been a very good girl, her mother would give her that for a treat.
Dinner was over, and now it was time for the children to go on their
way. The peasants were waiting to take leave of them, and many had
brought their little offerings of sympathy: one a loaf of bread, another
a pot of honey, while a feeble old woman came tottering along with a
bottle of milk. The children of the village said they must harness
Nanny's horses, and admired her spirited steeds, playfully offering them
a feed of corn.
So they went merrily forward, accompanied for some distance by a troop
of the younger inhabitants, and followed by the blessings of all.
They had proceeded about a mile when they saw a boy in the distance
running along the road they were going. They stopped when he came up,
and, as he lifted a corner of his jacket, what was their delight to see
snugly lying there rolled up like a ball a Pomeranian puppy, about four
weeks old, with a soft, white, silky coat.
"What are you going to do with the pretty creature?" they all exclaimed
with one breath.
"Give him to whoever will take him," said the boy, "for we have three
more of the same sort at home. Would you like to have him?" he
continued.
"That I should dearly," said Hans, holding out both hands to receive the
little fellow, "and thank you a thousand times."
"You are heartily welcome," returned their new friend; "indeed, I am
obliged to you for taking him off my hands."
The bottle of milk was at once opened, and, there being no cup, Hans's
hand was filled again and again for the dog to lap from, which he did
most gratefully; after which a bed was made up of Nanny's cloak, and,
with her apron to cover him, he was soon asleep.
And now they start off afresh, and their way being for a time in the
direction of the boy's home, he proposed harnessing himself to make a
third, and away they went full gallop.