CONCERNING THE HUNTER IN THE WOODS, AND HIS HOMEWARD WALK.
We now return to our friend the sportsman, who soon awoke from his sound
slumber, quite refreshed. He yawned, stretched himself, and mechanically
extended his hand towards the spot where he had placed his game-bag.
Although his hand touched nothing but the grass and his gun, he
nevertheless was not troubled, for he thought that he had miscalculated
the distance. He searched still further; but to his surprise the
game-bag was still missing. He now raised himself up in a sitting
posture, and rubbing his eyes vigorously, he searched the ground
closely. But his eyes, usually so good, must have been dimmed by some
enchantment, for he could perceive neither the hares nor the partridges,
which he could not but think were there.
Determined, however, not to believe in such marvels, for honest Fabian
was a man of intelligence, he arose and peered through the bushes in the
grass; he looked in the air, and he closely scanned the tops of the
trees; but his efforts were fruitless. The game was not to be found.
"It is astonishing!" said he to himself. "I can not believe it! They
must be here! But where the devil are they then!"
The trees retained a stubborn silence, and their example was followed by
the earth, the air, and the water. Although the heat of the day was
rendered still more insufferable by Mr. Fabian's thick hunting suit, yet
his flesh chilled with fear when he discovered the actual loss of his
partridges and hares.
To return home without his game, was a misfortune, which under ordinary
circumstances he could have endured; but on this occasion he had reason
to expect a more than usually severe lecture from his wife whose command
he had stubbornly disobeyed by not awakening Gottlieb. While the
unfortunate sportsman was bewailing his fate he discovered the face of
his "butler," who was peering out from between the bushes with an
expression of mingled humility and mirthfulness.
"Where are my partridges, you rascal?" shouted Mr. Fabian, his face
glowing with anger.
"Do you think, Mr. H----, that I have taken them?"
"Such a jest would be but natural. What are you doing here? Have I not
paid you enough?"
"I never do anything without orders, and if you do not wish me to
remain, I will go instantly. I thought, however, that you would be
pleased if I should tell you what had become of your game."
"That is just what I wish to know! Has any one presumed to steal it?"
"Very likely."
"Who? Quick! Tell me!"
But the butler answered only with a long drawn. "Ah!"
"Can you substantiate what you are about to say?"
"I can swear to it, if it is necessary. I waited here only that I might
be able to explain everything to my employer, after he should awake."
"You are a fine fellow, now tell me what evil being has entered the
woods, and committed this depredation?"
"If you wish to have a full account of the matter, you should tender
full payment," said the butler, who considered this play of words
exceedingly apt and forcible.
"Yes, yes, I will not be ungenerous," replied Mr. Fabian taking a
bank-note from his pocket.
"Carl,--the fool of the valley--purloined the hares and partridges."
"What! that cur!--the son of old Lonner!"
"The same."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, as certain as I am that I live."
"Good," said Mr. Fabian, and he repeated the same word several times,
each time appearing better satisfied, and certainly the thoughts that
occupied his mind must have afforded him great pleasure, for he not only
forgot the trouble that awaited his return home, but also the question,
which in truth should have been the first one--why the Butler had not
stopped the thief and rescued the booty. The Butler, however, thought it
expedient not to await further questions, and therefore soon found an
opportunity of retreating.
Our readers may be assured that when the sportsman returned home his
wife was not in the best of humor. She awaited his coming in the parlor;
but when she heard his footsteps in the court-yard, she could no longer
restrain her impatience, but hastened to the window and exclaimed:
"Where were your silly thoughts wandering, when you left the house
without calling Gottlieb. I must say that you conduct yourself friendly
towards _my_ relations, and I do think it is equally astonishing that
you have come home without him. I sent him to look for you a long time
ago. What! can I believe my eyes! Where is the game that I was to have
for dinner?"
"Dear Ulrique Eugenie, can you not wait until I have changed my clothes?
I have travelled so far through the woods, that I can scarcely breathe,
I am so weary."
"Where is the game?"
"Whew!" ejaculated her husband, "I can stand these clothes no longer."
Thus saying, he hastened into the house, and proceeded to his apartment.
But this respite was of short duration. Mistress Ulrica Eugenie was
familiar with the road to the chamber, and her rage reached its highest
point, when she heard that the game which was intended for her dinner,
had been stolen while her husband, overcome by his arduous exertions,
had fallen asleep.
"O, if I only knew who did this, yes, if I only knew, I would have the
rascal put in the stocks. But you, you dormouse, yes you, you call
yourself a man! you! Don't you wish to borrow my petticoat! To sleep
when engaged in the noble art of hunting! To complain of fatigue! Fie
upon such men! But can you not discover the thief?"
"No, my dear, I assure you. I cannot, how could I know what happened
while I was sleeping?"
"That is the reason why you never knew anything in your life," replied
the exasperated woman. "But see there comes Gottlieb with a partridge in
his hand. He is a pattern. _He_ never allows _his_ game to be stolen,"
and Mistress Ulrica composed her features, and assumed an expression of
motherly benevolence, while she descended the stairs to receive her
nephew.
"Thank you, good Gottlieb," said she meeting him at the door, "thank
you, your uncle has been unfortunate this morning; but come with me to
the dairy, and you shall have the cream of an entire pan of milk."
"The milk also, if you please, aunty, I feel myself able to devour every
thing, pan and all."
"Well, satisfy yourself. By and by we will go to my bleachery and you
may select a piece of linen.--Do you understand?"
"Not a word. It is all a mystery. But I do know that there is not a
nephew on the entire Scandinavian peninsula, who possesses an aunt with
such an affectionate disposition."
"Ah, you flatterer, it is well that you are my nephew or else Fabian
might be jealous."
"Well I am not sure but that he may yet have an occasion, for, I am not
aware that nephews are forbidden to love their aunts."
From that day forward Gottlieb was taken under the especial protection
of his aunt, and as her favorite he was certain of a comfortable and
pleasant life. When she became acquainted with his manners, virtues and
accomplishments, her esteem for him was, if possible, doubly increased.
What could he not do, the dear boy? Not to speak of his wonderful
success in amusing little Jean Ulrick, Mr. Fabian's sole heir, he was
able to read aloud to his aunt from her favorite volume, and to repeat
with almost sublime patience, all those tender passages to which she in
a plaintive tone would sigh _de capo_. More than all this. He could
sing--the model nephew--and accompany his voice with the guitar not only
to the tune of "my love and I," but also to his aunt's favorite ballad,
"In the shadows of the wood; in the cavern hid away." And finally there
was not a female domestic in the house who dared to compete with
Gottlieb in the art of chopping string beans. In short, he was a nephew
whose peer could not be found in all Sweden, and who knows whether the
piece of linen he chose from the bleachery was the last he received from
his indulgent aunt.
Poor Gottlieb, while you are thus the prime favorite of your strong
minded aunt, having free access to the pantries and dairy-rooms, have
you no misgivings that the day will arrive when the doors of this house
shall be closed against you? Relentless fate who ever demands a
sacrifice. How true are the words of the wise Solomon, "All is vanity
and vexation of spirit; and there is no profit under the sun." But it is
not to be believed that Mr. Fabian's slumbers were disturbed because his
wife had deserted him. No, he even preferred the company of hunger and
thirst rather than that of his Ulgenie. Not that this state of mind
originated from the many lectures he had received from his wife. Ah,
no, there were far more powerful reasons; but it is certain that if
Mistress Ulrica had suspected that her husband's indifference arose from
any other motive than the wish to escape a deserved punishment she would
have, undoubtedly, increased the vigor of her tongue to such a pitch
that his house would have been uncomfortably warm to him.
After dining upon Gottlieb's partridge which had done much to smoothe
her ruffled temper, Mrs. Ulrica was thus insinuatingly addressed by her
husband:
"Have you any errands for me to perform at the parsonage, dear Ulgenie?
I wish to ride down there to talk over the parish matters with the
parson."
"That's right, dear Fabian. Take Gottlieb along with you. He would like
to see the young ladies, each of whom are worth a ton of gold."
At this proposal Mr. Fabian's brow darkened; but the gloom was soon
dispelled as Gottlieb declined the pleasure of going, and the first
smile which the young man had received from his uncle was when he
replied: "Excuse me to-day, my dear aunt, I wish to write to my mother."
He had no desire to disappoint his young pupil of the valley.
"Excellent youth!" exclaimed his aunt, "pleasure cannot wile you from
your duties. God forbid that I should attempt to do so; and you Fabian,"
she added extending her arms towards her husband, "kiss me before you
go. Your Ulgenie has no desire to deprive you of any reasonable
enjoyments."