THE COFFEE-PARTY
"HOW would you like to be a wood-cutter, Hans?"
"I think it would be great sport. I like to hear the thud of the axe as
it comes down on the trunk. Then it is always an exciting time as the
tree begins to bend and fall to the ground. Somehow, it seems like a
person. I can't help pitying it, either."
Hans had come over to the next village on an errand for his father. A
big sawmill had been built on the side of the stream, and all the men
in the place were kept busy cutting down trees in the Black Forest, or
working in the sawmill.
After the logs had been cut the right length, they were bound into
rafts, and floated down the little stream to the Rhine.
"The rafts themselves seem alive," said Hans to his friend. "You men
know just how to bind the logs together with those willow bands, so
they twist and turn about like living creatures as they move down the
stream."
"I have travelled on a raft all the way from here to Cologne," answered
the wood-cutter. "The one who steers must be skilful, for he needs to
be very careful. You know the rafts grow larger all the time, don't
you, Hans?"
"Oh, yes. As the river becomes wider, the smaller ones are bound
together. But is it true that the men sometimes take their families
along with them?"
"Certainly. They set up tents, or little huts, on the rafts, so their
wives and children can have a comfortable place to eat and sleep. Then,
too, if it rains, they can be sheltered from the storm."
"I'd like to go with you sometime. You pass close to Strasburg, and I
could stop and visit Uncle Fritz. Wouldn't it be fun!"
"Hans! Hans!" called a girl's voice just then.
"I don't see her, but I know that's Bertha. She came over to the
village with me this afternoon. One of her friends has a coffee-party
and she invited us to it. So, good-bye."
"Good-bye, my lad. Come and see me again. Perhaps I can manage sometime
to take you with me on a trip down the river."
"Thank you ever so much."
Hans hurried away, and was soon entering the house of a little friend
who was celebrating her birthday with a coffee-party.
There were several other children there. They were all dressed in their
best clothes and looked very neat and nice. The boys wore long trousers
and straight jackets. They looked like little old men. The girls had
bright-coloured skirts and their white waists were fresh and stiff.
Their shoes were coarse and heavy, and made a good deal of noise as the
children played the different games. But they were all so plump and
rosy, it was good to look at them.
"They are a pretty sight," said one of the neighbours, as she poured
out the coffee.
"They deserve to have a good time," said another woman with a kind,
motherly face. "They will soon grow up, and then they will have to work
hard to get a living."
The coffee and cakes were a great treat to these village children. They
did not get such a feast every day in the year. Their mothers made
cakes only for festivals and holidays, and coffee was seldom seen on
their tables oftener than once a week.
In the great cities and fine castles, where the rich people of Germany
had their homes, they could eat sweet dainties and drink coffee as
often as they liked. But in the villages of the Black Forest, it was
quite different.
"Good night, good night," said Hans and Bertha, as they left their
friends and trudged off on a path through the woods. It was the
shortest way home, and they knew their mother must be looking for them
by this time.
It was just sunset, but the children could not see the beautiful
colours of the evening sky, after they had gone a short distance into
the thick woods.
"Do you suppose there are any bears around?" whispered Bertha.
The trees looked very black. It seemed to the little girl as though she
kept seeing the shadow of some big animal hiding behind them.
"No, indeed," answered Hans, quite scornfully. "Too many people go
along this path for bears to be willing to stay around here. You would
have to go farther up into the forest to find them. But look quickly,
Bertha. Do you see that rabbit jumping along? Isn't he a big fellow?"
"See! Hans, he has noticed us. There he goes as fast as his legs can
carry him."
By this time, the children had reached the top of a hill. The trees
grew very thick and close. On one side a torrent came rushing down over
the rocks and stones. It seemed to say:
"I cannot stop for any one. But come with me, come with me, and I will
take you to the beautiful Rhine. I will show you the way to pretty
bridges, and great stone castles, and rare old cities. Oh, this is a
wonderful world, and you children of the Black Forest have a great deal
to see yet."
"I love to listen to running water," said Bertha. "It always has a
story to tell us."
"Do you see that light over there, away off in the distance?" asked
Hans. "It comes from a charcoal-pit. I can hear the voices of the men
at their work."
"I shouldn't like to stay out in the dark woods all the time and make
charcoal," answered his sister. "I should get lonesome and long for the
sunlight."
"It isn't very easy work, either," said Hans. "After the trees have
been cut down, the pits have to be made with the greatest care, and the
wood must be burned just so slowly to change it into charcoal. I once
spent a day in the forest with some charcoal-burners. They told such
good stories that night came before I had thought of it."
"I can see the village ahead of us," said Bertha, joyfully.
A few minutes afterward, the children were running up the stone steps
of their own home.
"We had such a good time," Hans told his mother, while Bertha went
to Gretchen and gave her some cakes she had brought her from the
coffee-party.
"I'm so sorry you couldn't go," she told her sister.
"Perhaps I can next time," answered Gretchen. "But, of course, we could
not all leave mother when she had so much work to do. So I just kept
busy and tried to forget all about it."
"You dear, good Gretchen! I'm going to try to be as patient and helpful
as you are," said Bertha, kissing her sister.