RICO'S MOTHER.
Along the road from Sils came the teacher leaning on his staff. He had
assisted at the burial. He coughed and cleared his throat; and as he
drew near to the grandmother and bade her "good evening," he seated
himself by her side. "If you have no objection, I will sit here with you
for a few moments, neighbor," said he; "for I feel very badly in my
throat and chest. But what can we expect when we are almost seventy
years old, and have witnessed such a funeral as this one to-day? He was
not thirty-five years of age, and as strong as a tree."
"It always sets me thinking," said the grandmother, "when I, an old
woman of seventy-five years, am left, and here and there a young person
is called away,--a useful one, too."
"Yet the old folks are good for something. Who else can set an
example to the youth?" remarked the teacher. "But what is your
opinion, neighbor: what will become of the little fellow over yonder,
do you think?"
"Yes, what will become of him?" repeated the old woman. "I also ask
myself that question; and if my only reliance were upon human help, I
should not know of an answer. But there is a heavenly Father who looks
after the forsaken children. He will provide something for the lad."
"Will you not tell me, neighbor, how it happened that the Italian
married the daughter of your friend who lived over there opposite? One
never knows how these people may turn out."
"It happened as such things always happen, neighbor. You know how my old
friend Anne-Dete had lost all her children, and her husband also, and
lived alone in the cottage over yonder with Marie-Seppli, who was a
merry little girl. About eleven or twelve years ago Trevillo made his
appearance here. He had work in the Maloja, and came down here with the
other boys; and he and Marie-Seppli had scarcely become acquainted
before they were resolved to have each other.
"And it must be said, in justice to Trevillo, that he was not only a
handsome fellow who was agreeable to everybody, but also an industrious
and well-conducted man, with whom Anne-Dete (the mother) was well
pleased. Naturally she wished that they should stay in the house and
live with her, and Trevillo would gladly have done so. He was fond of
his wife's mother, and he always did as Marie-Seppli wished him to. He
had taken her, however, towards the Maloja in his walks, and they had
together looked down the road where you can see how far it goes winding
down the mountain; and he had told her how every thing was down there
where he was born. So Marie-Seppli got it into her head that she must go
there, and no matter how much her mother worried and fretted, and said
that they could not live there, she still was bent upon going; and
Trevillo himself said that as to living there she need not fear, for he
had a nice little property and a house; but, for his part, he would like
to see a little of the world. But the bride prevailed, and after the
wedding she was all for starting directly down the mountain.
"She wrote to her mother occasionally that it was very nice where they
lived, and that Trevillo was the best of husbands.
"About five or six years later, who should walk into the room where
Anne-Dete was sitting but Trevillo, leading a little boy by the hand. He
said, 'There, mother, this is the only thing I have left of
Marie-Seppli. She lies buried down yonder with her other little
children. This one was her first, and her favorite.'
"This is what my old friend told me. Then he threw himself down on the
bench where he had first seen his wife, saying that he should like to
make his home there with her and the boy, if she had no objection, for
down below it was not possible for him to continue to live. This was joy
and sorrow at the same time for Anne-Dete.
"Little Rico was then about four years old,--a quiet, thoughtful boy,
never noisy or mischievous, and the very apple of her eye; but she died
in the course of a year, and Trevillo was advised to take a cousin of
hers to keep house for him and his boy."
"So, so!" said the teacher when the old woman was silent, having
finished her story. "I had not understood all this thoroughly before.
Perhaps some of Trevillo's relations will come forward, in good time,
and they can be asked to do something for the child."
"Relations!" said the grandmother with a sigh. "That cousin is a
relation, and little enough of comfort he gets from her in the course of
the year."
The schoolmaster rose with difficulty from his seat. "I am going
down-hill, neighbor," he said, shaking his head. "I cannot imagine where
my strength has gone to."
The old woman encouraged him, and said he was still a young man in
comparison with her. But, in truth, it did surprise her to see how
slowly and painfully he walked as he left her.