[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and
italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Our Little German Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. Macdonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
(_In Preparation_)
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: BERTHA.]
Our Little German Cousin
By
Mary Hazelton Wade
_Illustrated, by_
L. J. Bridgman
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_PUBLISHERS_
_Copyright, 1904_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES
(_Trade Mark_)
Published June, 1904
Fifth Impression, October, 1907
Colonial Press
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Preface
WHEN the word Germany comes to our minds, we think at once of ruined
castles, fairies, music, and soldiers. Why is it?
First, as to the castles. Here and there along the banks of the River
Rhine, as well as elsewhere throughout the country, the traveller is
constantly finding himself near some massive stone ruin. It seems ever
ready to tell stories of long ago,--of brave knights who defended its
walls, of beautiful princesses saved from harm, of sturdy boys and
sweet-faced girls who once played in its gardens. For Germany is the
home of an ancient and brave people, who have often been called upon to
face powerful enemies.
Next, as to the fairies. It seems as though the dark forests of
Germany, the quiet valleys, and the banks of the beautiful rivers,
were the natural homes of the fairy-folk, the gnomes and the elves, the
water-sprites and the sylphs. Our German cousins listen with wonder and
delight to the legends of fearful giants and enchanted castles, and
many of the stories they know so well have been translated into other
languages for their cousins of distant lands, who are as fond of them
as the blue-eyed children of Germany.
As to the music, it seems as though every boy and girl in the whole
country drew in the spirit of song with the air they breathe. They sing
with a love of what they are singing, they play as though the tune were
a part of their very selves. Some of the finest musicians have been
Germans, and their gifts to the world have been bountiful.
As for soldiers, we know that every man in Germany must stand ready to
defend his country. He must serve his time in drilling and training
for war. He is a necessary part of that Fatherland he loves so dearly.
Our fair-haired German cousins are busy workers and hard students.
They must learn quite early in life that they have duties as well as
pleasures, and the duties cannot be set aside or forgotten. But they
love games and holidays as dearly as the children of our own land.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. CHRISTMAS 1
II. TOY-MAKING 10
III. THE WICKED BISHOP 23
IV. THE COFFEE-PARTY 40
V. THE BEAUTIFUL CASTLE 48
VI. THE GREAT FREDERICK 60
VII. THE BRAVE PRINCESS 71
VIII. WHAT THE WAVES BRING 83
IX. THE MAGIC SWORD 94
List of Illustrations
PAGE
BERTHA _Frontispiece_
BERTHA'S FATHER AND MOTHER 11
THE RATS' TOWER 28
COURTYARD OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE 52
STATUE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT 63
BERTHA'S HOME 83
Our Little German Cousin
CHAPTER I.
CHRISTMAS
"DON'T look! There, now it's done!" cried Bertha.
It was two nights before Christmas. Bertha was in the big living-room
with her mother and older sister. Each sat as close as possible to the
candle-light, and was busily working on something in her lap.
But, strange to say, they did not face each other. They were sitting
back to back.
"What an unsociable way to work," we think. "Is that the way Germans
spend the evenings together?"
No, indeed. But Christmas was near at hand, and the air was brimful of
secrets.
Bertha would not let her mother discover what she was working for her,
for all the world. And the little girl's mother was preparing surprises
for each of the children. All together, the greatest fun of the year
was getting ready for Christmas.
"Mother, you will make some of those lovely cakes this year, won't
you?" asked Bertha's sister Gretchen.
"Certainly, my child. It would not be Christmas without them. Early
to-morrow morning, you and Bertha must shell and chop the nuts. I will
use the freshest eggs and will beat the dough as long as my arms will
let me."
"Did you always know how to make those cakes, mamma?" asked Bertha.
"My good mother taught me when I was about your age, my dear. You may
watch me to-morrow, and perhaps you will learn how to make them. It is
never too early to begin to learn to cook."
"When the city girls get through school, they go away from home and
study housekeeping don't they?" asked Gretchen.
"Yes, and many girls who don't live in cities. But I hardly think you
will ever be sent away. We are busy people here in our little village,
and you will have to be contented with learning what your mother can
teach you.
"I shall be satisfied with that, I know. But listen! I can hear father
and Hans coming."
"Then put up your work, children, and set the supper-table."
The girls jumped up and hurriedly put the presents away. It did not
take long to set the supper-table, for the meals in this little home
were very simple, and supper was the simplest of all. A large plate of
black bread and a pitcher of sour milk were brought by the mother, and
the family gathered around the table.
The bread wasn't really black, of course. It was dark brown and very
coarse. It was made of rye meal. Bertha and Gretchen had never seen any
white bread in their lives, for they had never yet been far away from
their own little village. Neither had their brother Hans.
They were happy, healthy children. They all had blue eyes, rosy cheeks,
and fair hair, like their father and mother.
"You don't know what I've got for you, Hans," said Bertha, laughing and
showing a sweet little dimple in her chin.
Hans bent down and kissed her. He never could resist that dimple, and
Bertha was his favourite sister.
"I don't know what it is, but I do know that it must be something
nice," said her brother.
When the supper-table had been cleared, the mother and girls took
out their sewing again, while Hans worked at some wood-carving. The
father took an old violin from its case and began to play some of the
beautiful airs of Germany.
When he came to the "Watch on the Rhine," the mother's work dropped
from her hands as she and the children joined in the song that stirs
every German heart.
"Oh, dear! it seems as though Christmas Eve never would come," sighed
Bertha, as she settled herself for sleep beside her sister.
It was quite a cold night, but they were cosy and warm. Why shouldn't
they be? They were covered with a down feather bed. Their mother had
the same kind of cover on her own bed, and so had Hans.
But Christmas Eve did come at last, although it seemed so far off to
Bertha the night before. Hans and his father brought in the bough of a
yew-tree, and it was set up in the living-room.
The decorating came next. Tiny candles were fastened on all the twigs.
Sweetmeats and nuts were hung from the branches.
"How beautiful! How beautiful!" exclaimed the children when it was all
trimmed, and they walked around it with admiring eyes.
None of the presents were placed on the tree, for that is not the
fashion in Germany. Each little gift had been tied up in paper and
marked with the name of the one for whom it was intended.
When everything was ready, there was a moment of quiet while the
candles were being lighted. Then Bertha's father began to give out the
presents, and there was a great deal of laughing and joking as the
bundles were opened.
There was a new red skirt for Bertha. Her mother had made it, for she
knew the child was fond of pretty dresses. Besides this, she had a pair
of warm woollen mittens which Gretchen had knit for her. Hans had made
and carved a doll's cradle for each of the girls.
Everybody was happy and contented. They sang songs and cracked nuts and
ate the Christmas cakes to their hearts' content.
"I think I like the ones shaped like gnomes the best," said Hans. "They
have such comical little faces. Do you know, every time I go out in the
forest, it seems as though I might meet a party of gnomes hunting for
gold."
"I like the animal cakes best," said Bertha. "The deer are such
graceful creatures, and I like to bite off the horns and legs, one at a
time."
"A long time ago," said their father, "they used to celebrate Christmas
a little different from the way we now do. The presents were all
carried to a man in the village who dressed himself in a white robe,
and a big wig made of flax. He covered his face with a mask, and then
went from house to house. The grown people received him with great
honours. He called for the children and gave them the presents their
parents had brought to him.
"But these presents were all given according to the way the children
had behaved during the year. If they had been good and tried hard,
they had the gifts they deserved. But if they had been naughty and
disobedient, it was not a happy time for them."
"I don't believe the children were very fond of him," cried Hans. "They
must have been too much afraid of him."
"That is true," said his father. "But now, let us play some games.
Christmas comes but once a year, and you have all been good children."
The room soon rang with the shouts of Hans and his sisters. They played
"Blind Man's Buff" and other games. Their father took part in all of
them as though he were a boy again. The good mother looked on with
pleasant smiles.
Bedtime came only too soon. But just before the children said good
night, the father took Hans one side and talked seriously yet lovingly
with him. He told the boy of the faults he must still fight against. He
spoke also of the improvement he had made during the year.
At the same time the mother gave words of kind advice to her little
daughters. She told them to keep up good courage; to be busy and
patient in the year to come.
"My dear little girls," she whispered, as she kissed them, "I love
to see you happy in your play. But the good Lord who cares for us
has given us all some work to do in this world. Be faithful in doing
yours."