THE SPRING
Erik's family rose early on Christmas morning and went to church. On the
way back, they stopped at the cottages along the way to drink with the
peasants and to wish them a merry Christmas.
[Illustration: A COTTAGE IN WINTER
_Paul's Photos_]
Erik stood at the window of his home as Greta and the Baron drove up in
their open sleigh. They sat together bundled up in fur robes, and only
the tip of the Baron's pointed nose showed. It was crimson.
As soon as they were inside the house, the Baron sneezed. Erik's mother
had to fetch him hot water, and Erik's father had to heap the already
blazing fire with more logs.
The Baron shivered and complained the whole time they were there. Erik
saw Nils look at Greta, and when Greta caught his eye, she blushed.
After they had left, Erik's thoughts were black.
For the next few weeks there was, Erik knew, no hope that the Baron
would leave Hanssonborg. The days were full of jollity and feasting, and
many visitors arrived.
Of course Erik could do nothing to hasten the Baron's departure. He had
given his promise to Herr Banker that he would never again sing to annoy
people.
Finally on January thirteenth, Christmas was "danced out," and the
guests began to leave. Erik prayed that the Baron would be one of those
to go. But each day he heard that the Baron had stayed on.
Vacation was over, and now Erik had to rise in the darkness of early
morning in order to be on time at the village school.
[Illustration: SWEDISH SCHOOL CHILDREN PLAYING INDIANS
_Swedish Travel Information Bureau, Inc._]
It was Saturday, which is the same as any other week day in Sweden. So
Erik was skiing to school, when all at once he heard his name called and
he looked around. There was Greta, skiing to meet him. As she
approached, he saw that her face was pale, and it seemed to Erik that
she had been crying.
"You are up early," he told her.
"I want to talk with you, Erik," she said. "We've not had a chance to be
together for ever so long."
Why was she out alone this early in the morning? What had happened?
She answered his unspoken questions. "The Baron Karl has asked me to
marry him, Erik."
Erik stopped so abruptly that he came near falling headlong. The color
faded from his rosy cheeks, and his eyes became two wide, blue stars.
"But you will refuse!" he cried.
He thought of his brother Nils. He thought of the great sorrow that this
was going to cause Nils. Then he thought of the Baron, who was a gnome
and a weakling and must never be master of Hanssonborg.
"You will surely refuse him!" he repeated.
Greta smiled with a sad little twist of her mouth.
"Perhaps I cannot, little Erik," she replied.
As they continued on their way, she explained to Erik why she might be
obliged to accept the Baron's offer of marriage. She explained to him
that her mother was threatened with the loss of Hanssonborg.
"And we could never bear to give up our home," she finished simply.
Erik could well understand this. "Home," like many other words, came to
the English language from the Swedish. The Swedes build homes, and not
just houses. Their dwellings are not mere objects of brick and wood, but
are living parts of themselves.
Perhaps this is because so much time must be spent indoors when the long
winter months are mostly made of night.
No, Greta and her mother could never give up Hanssonborg. Yet, on the
other hand, Greta must never be forced to marry the Baron. Something
must be done.
Erik's head was in a whirl. That day at school he declared that six
times nine was seventy. He answered his German teacher in French, his
English teacher in German, and his French teacher in Swedish.
At bathing time, when the pupils had to scrub one another from head to
foot, he poured a tub of water over his chum's head and nearly drowned
the lad. Then he got soap in his own eyes and howled with pain.
There can be no nonsense about education in Sweden. Boys and girls are
supposed to work seriously in school, and the result is that everyone in
the country knows how to read and write.
So Erik was punished. He was given so much written homework that he
decided to be careful of his behavior in the future.
The Baron left Hanssonborg at last. But Greta told Erik that he was
coming back again. He would return in the spring, when he hoped that
Greta would announce their engagement.
Usually the spring was awaited with eagerness. It marks the end of
dark, bleak, wintry days. But Erik did not look forward to this
particular spring. He almost dreaded it. For he could not forget that
with the flowers and bird songs would also come the Baron.
Nevertheless, when Easter vacation arrived, Erik could not help
welcoming it. He could not help being excited on St. Walpurgis
(=väl poor´ges=) Eve, when fires were lighted on the hills and the
young people sang.
[Illustration: HAPPY CHILDREN IN THE PROVINCE OF DALECARLIA
_Swedish Travel Information Bureau, Inc._]
At daybreak, Greta and Nils, with Erik half asleep on his shoulder,
wandered toward home, happy and tired. They stopped at the big house,
and Nils said, "Good-bye, Greta."
He touched her hand very gently, and she answered, "Good-bye, Nils."
Then she looked down at the earth where some tiny, sharp, green tulip
leaves were pushing their way upward.
"Spring is here," she said, when suddenly Erik let out a piercing
shriek.
"And the Baron is here, too!" he cried. "Just look."
Sure enough, Baron von Engstrom's elegant car was standing before the
door of Hanssonborg.
From that time on, Erik saw little of Greta. But one day his mother sent
him over to Hanssonborg on an errand, and he stopped to chat with Fru
Svenson and to see what she was cooking.
He left the kitchen with a blouse full of cookies and the news that the
Baron was ill in bed.
"What a very bad-tempered gentleman the Baron is!" Fru Svenson had
exclaimed. "Always complaining and never satisfied!"
Returning home, Erik walked through the forest. A lark sang, and he
stopped to answer. Snow still lay under the pines, but one felt the
stirring restlessness beneath the earth, as of plants and roots asking
to live.
At the shore of the lake, Nils was painting a rowboat and Greta was with
him. Erik watched the sunbeams dancing on her golden hair as they danced
upon the glistening water.
Greta was reading aloud to Nils. She was reading to him about the
business of a market garden. It was the study that Nils liked best.
She had often helped him with it before the Baron's arrival.
How happy they looked together, and how handsome, too! Like a god and a
goddess in Norse mythology.
Erik approached. Greta closed the book and arose.
"I must go back to the house now," she said. "Will you walk a way with
me, Erik?"
Nils stood up, too, and wiped his paint-smeared hands on his working
overalls. He said nothing, but Erik could see the suffering in his face.
Oh, why didn't he tell Greta how much he longed to marry her? Erik felt
sure that she would gladly give up the Baron for brave, strong Nils! Why
was he such a fool?
Yet Erik realized that he was only a little boy; he could not know the
ways of grown folks, so he was silent as he walked beside Greta.
She took his hand and squeezed it and he looked up into her face. She
was crying. Then, all at once, she sank down upon a stump and hid her
face in her arms.
"Oh, little Erik," she sobbed, "what shall I do?"
[Illustration: "OH, LITTLE ERIK, WHAT SHALL I DO?"]
Erik put his hand on her shoulder and wondered what to say. It made him
feel strange and small to have a grown person turn to him like this. It
was almost as though he were the older of the two.
If he only were a man! He would be a banker and help Fru Hansson. He
would give her as much money as she needed to save her home, and then
Greta would not have to marry the Baron!
A banker! That reminded Erik of the Herr Banker who had visited
Hanssonborg over Christmas. Why, he could help Fru Hansson. Erik
suggested this to Greta, but she shook her head.
"Mother has already written to him," she said.
"What was his reply?" asked Erik eagerly.
"He refused," answered Greta. "Hanssonborg is already so heavily in debt
that nobody will lend us any more money."
This was hard for Erik to understand. How could anybody refuse to help
his beloved family? A strong bond existed between the landowner and the
tenants, and to Erik, the Hanssons were like his own people.
"I will think of something," he told Greta, and reached into the depths
of his pocket, frowning. "Have a cooky," he said.
In the weeks that followed, Greta stubbornly refused to permit the Baron
to announce their engagement. Her mother pleaded with her and tried to
point out the seriousness of their position.
But all Greta would say was, "Only give me a little more time."
Then something happened to Erik.
The school offered a trip to Stockholm to the pupils who could pay
their way. These trips were occasionally conducted as a means of
studying geography and history. Erik was delighted with the prospect of
seeing the principal city of Sweden.
He was also delighted when he remembered that Herr Banker lived in
Stockholm. Herr Banker had liked his voice and had shaken hands with him
as if they had been friends and made Erik promise to sing for him again
some day. An idea was already beginning to form in Erik's brain.
He raced home from school and counted his savings. He had enough money
for the trip to Stockholm. Once there, he would call upon Herr Banker.
He decided to say nothing to Greta, however. He would keep his plans a
secret until he could surprise her by returning home with the loan for
Hanssonborg.
But he must see Nils at once. He went out into the fields to look for
his brother, singing at the top of his voice. A cow stopped chewing to
listen. A frisky little colt kicked up its heels and whinnied shrilly.
Greta was sitting in her mother's study. She raised her head when she
heard Erik's voice across the fields.
"Happy little Erik," she sighed, and smiled through her tears.
Her mother said, "That does not answer my question, Greta. Will you tell
Baron Karl that he may announce your engagement?"
Fru Hansson's desk was strewn with business papers. They had rows and
rows of figures all over them. A photograph of the Baron stood above. It
smirked down, as much as to say, "After I am master of Hanssonborg, you
will not have to worry about these matters."
Greta looked at her mother's hands. They were thin and wrinkled. They
were also white and delicate. They must never have to work.
"Please, Greta, give me your answer," repeated Fru Hansson pleadingly.
And Greta said, "Very well, mother. I'll tell Baron Karl today that he
may announce our engagement."
[Illustration: FOLK DANCING AT THE MIDSUMMER NIGHT FESTIVAL IN
DALECARLIA
_Swedish Travel Information Bureau, Inc._]