CHAPTER II.

WITH FRESH COURAGE.

A few days later a numerous company of mourners followed another black

bier to the sunny church-yard.

Steffan, the saddler, had been universally respected. He had begun life

modestly; there had been no large industries in Tannenegg in his early

days. He married the quiet and orderly Gertrude, who worked with him at

his trade, and helped support the frugal household. Soon the flood of

prosperity invaded Fohrensee, and naturally the only saddler in the

vicinity had his hands full of work.

Now Gertrude's help was needed in earnest, and she did not fail. They were

soon in possession of a nice little house of their own, with a garden

about it, and no matter how much work she might have to do in the shop,

everything in her own province of housekeeping was as well and carefully

ordered as if Gertrude had no other business to occupy her time and

thoughts. And Steffan, Gertrude and their little Dieterli lived simple,

useful and contented lives and were a good example to all the

neighborhood.

Now, to-day, Gertrude stood weeping by the window and looked across to the

church-yard, where that very morning they had laid her good man. Now she

must make her way alone; she had no one to help her, no one belonging to

her except her two children, and for them she must work, for she never

admitted for a moment that the orphaned Veronica was not hers to care for

as well as her own little Dietrich.

She did not lose courage. As soon as the first benumbing effect of her

sorrow had passed a little, she gazed up at the shining heavens and said

to herself, "He who has sent this trouble will send me strength to bear

it;" and in full trust in this strength she went to work, and seemed able

to do more than ever.

Her property, outside of the little capital which her husband had laid by,

consisted of her house, which was free from debt, and of which she could

let a good part. The question was, whether she could carry on the

remunerative business that her husband had been engaged in, until little

Dietrich should be old enough to assume the direction of it, and pursue it

as his father had done before him. Gertrude retained the services of a

workman who had been employed by Steffan, and she herself did not relax

her labors early and late, to oversee the work and keep all in running

order.

For the first few weeks after her mother's death little Veronica sat every

evening weeping silently by herself in a dark corner of the room. When

Gertrude found her thus grieving, she asked kindly what ailed her, and

again and again, she received only this sorrowful answer,

"I want my mother."

Gertrude drew the child tenderly towards her, caressing her, and

promising her that they would all go together some day to join her mother,

who had only gone on before, that she might get strong and well again. And

gradually this second mother grew to take the place of her own, and no

game, no amusement could draw the loving child away from Gertrude's side.

Only Dietrich could succeed in enticing her to go with him now and then.

The lad's love for his mother showed itself in a louder and more

demonstrative manner. He often threw his arms about her neck, crying

passionately,

"My mother belongs to me and to nobody else."

Then Veronica's brows would knit over her flashing eyes, until they formed

a long straight line across her face. But she did not speak. And Gertrude

would put one arm about the boy's neck and the other about the little

girl's, and say,

"You must not speak so, Dietrich. I belong to you both, and you both

belong to me."

In general, the two children were excellent friends, and completely

inseparable. They were not happy unless they shared everything together

and wherever one went, the other must go too. They went regularly to

school every morning, and were always joined by two of the neighbors'

children, who went with them.

These were, the son of the shoemaker, long, bony Jost, with his little,

cunning eyes,--and the sexton's boy, who was as broad as he was long, and

from whose round face two pale eyes peered forth upon the world, in

innocently stupid surprise. His name was Blasius, nicknamed Blasi.

Often, on the way to school, quarrels arose between Dieterli and the two

other boys. It would occur to one of them to try what Veronica would do if

he were to give her a blow with his fist. Scarcely had he opened his

attack when he found himself lying on his nose, while Dieterli played a

vigorous tattoo on his back with no gentle fists. Or the sport would be to

plant a good hard snow-ball between Veronica's shoulders, with the

mortifying result to the aggressive boy, of being pelted in the face with

handfuls of wet snow, until he was almost stifled, and cried out for

mercy. Dieterli was not afraid of either of them; for though smaller and

thinner than either, he was also much more lithe, and could glide about

like a lizard before, behind and all around his adversaries, and slip

through their fingers while they were trying to catch him. Veronica was

well avenged, and went on the rest of her way without fear of molestation.

If one of the other lads felt in a friendly mood, and wished to act as

escort to the little girl, Dieterli soon gave him to understand that that

was his own place, and he would give it up to no one.

Every evening "Cousin Judith" came for a little visit, to give Gertrude

some friendly advice about the children, or the household economy. She

used to say that the gentle widow needed some one now and then to show

claws in her behalf, and Judith knew herself to be in full possession of

claws, and of the power to use them, an accomplishment of which she was

somewhat proud. One evening she crossed over between daylight and dark,

and entered the room where Veronica was, with her favorite plaything in

her hand, moving it back and forth as she sat in the window in the waning

light. She could read very nicely now for two years had passed since she

had lost her own mother, and had become Gertrude's child. Many a time had

she read over the motto which shone out so mysteriously from the breast of

the opened rose. To-day she was poring over it again, and her absorption

in "that same old rose," as Dieterli called it, had so annoyed the lively

lad that he left her, and had gone out into the kitchen to find his

mother. When Judith saw the girl sitting thus alone, buried in thought,

she asked her what she was thinking about in the twilight all by herself.

Dieterli, whom no sound ever escaped, had heard Cousin Judith come in, and

came running in from the kitchen to see what was going on. Veronica looked

up at the visitor and asked earnestly,

"Cousin Judith, what is fortune?"

"Ah, you are always asking some strange question that no one else ever

thought of asking;" said Cousin Judith, "where on earth did you ever hear

of fortune?"

"Here," said Veronica, holding up the rose with the golden verse in the

centre. "Shall I read it to you?"

"Yes, do, child."

Veronica read--

"Fortune stands ready, full in sight;

He wins who knows to grasp it right."

"Well, it means this--I should say--fortune is whatever anyone wants the

most."

"Fortune is a horse, then," said Dietrich quickly.

Veronica sat thinking. "But, Cousin Judith," she said presently, "how can

any one 'grasp fortune'?"

"With your hands," replied Cousin Judith unhesitatingly, "You see, our

hands are given us to work with, and if we use them diligently and do our

work well, as it ought to be done, then fortune comes to us; so don't you

see we 'grasp it' with our hands?"

The verse had now become endued with life, and meant something real and

attractive to Veronica. She did not lay her rose out of her hand for a

long time, that evening, notwithstanding that Dietrich cast threatening

glances upon it, and finally broke out in vexation,

"I will tear off the spring some time, and spoil the thing altogether."

The rose was not put into the book and the book into the cup-board, until

the time came for the children to say their evening prayers. This was the

closing act of every day; and it was so fixed and regular a habit, that

the children never needed to be bidden to fold their hands, and kneel to

ask God's blessing before they slept.

Veronica · 第 2 / 11 章