After wandering through other parts of the forest among the people both
old and young, learning from the former, teaching the latter, I am
always glad to return to the Winkel. Here in these last years, the
people have been labouring with axe and hammer about the Winkel-warden's
house and I have sometimes even lent a hand to the work myself. And now
as I look around me I realise that we have a village.
Near the house a few huts have been erected originally intended for the
builders but now being converted into permanent dwellings. Martin
Grassteiger, a charcoal-burner, from Lautergraeben, has recently bought
two such little huts for a considerable sum, and to the astonishment of
the people he paid at once for them in cash. From pitch-black coal,
shining thalers are made, old Russ-Kath once said. And with gleaming
thalers Grassteiger has paid for the huts and has become a man of
influence.
The parsonage is approaching completion, likewise the church and next
must come the schoolhouse;--_Mein Gott_, what a great joy I am
experiencing in these forests!
Yesterday evening we locked the church for the first time. The
architect, the carpenter from Holdenschlag, and the master wood-cutter
were present, but I do not know how it came about that as we separated
the key remained in my hand. I am hardly aware of it myself, yet the
Baron has recently written that he was quite satisfied with my work as
schoolmaster in the forest. But what am I accomplishing? I tell the
children stories and show them many little things in the woods, which no
person here has ever before noticed, but which fascinate these young
people.
The windows in the church, on either side of the altar, do not quite
satisfy me. The dazzling panes weary my eyes, and the wooded slopes and
the wood-cutting stare in upon one. But, alas, the Sunday worshipper
might be quite content with that, for then, instead of offering his poor
soul humbly before the dear God, he would be constantly chopping wood,
counting the felled trunks, the sticks, the piles of brushwood, which on
a week-day would not otherwise trouble him. Prayer would stream from
the heart like a fountain of blood, if one's thoughts did not wander,
but since they cannot always be controlled, we must guard the church
like a fortress, so that the Sabbath may not leave it nor the work-day
enter.
The two windows must be provided with paintings; so I have sent for red,
yellow, blue, and green paper, and for a number of days I have been
working as designer behind closed doors.
About the saint for the church the people are not yet united. But I
have my ideas in regard to it. "My friends," I said, "we will not set
up any saint. Let each one think of his own as he will. The saints are
invisible in heaven, and ours could only be made from ordinary wood,
which might simply arouse their anger."
"Perhaps you're right," answered a few of the people to this proposal,
"and it would surely cost us less."
A wood-chopper from Karwasserschlag made the altar table. He is a poor
man, blessed with many children; but for the work in the church he took
no pay. "For a good reason I do it," said he; "I do it for my family,
that none of its members may die, or any more be added to it."
The dear God cannot have rightly understood; scarcely is the altar table
finished, when the wood-chopper's ninth boy comes into the world.
In order to show that it is an honour to the forest when such a poor man
renders a public service we call the wood-chopper, as he is also one who
does not know his name, Franz Ehrenwald (honour to the forest). The
name will suffice for his nine boys and more.
Franz Ehrenwald has a clever, ambitious head. Having succeeded with the
altar table, he now decides to change his business entirely to that of
carpenter and cabinet-maker. He has already collected a number of
tools, and furnished himself with two baskets full of planes,
draw-knives, augers, saws, axes, chisels, and other things, which he
does not in the least know how to handle, and which he will not use as
long as he lives. But the tools are his pride; and his boys cause him
no greater annoyance than when, in their own attempts at carpentry, they
take possession of one of the augers or nick a knife. He is quite
willing to have them learn to work correctly, the two baskets will
indeed be their legacy some time.
I have drawn a number of plans for dwelling-houses, showing how they
should be built, so that they may be durable, light, airy, easily
heated, tasteful, and suited to the people's mode of life.
According to such plans, Franz Ehrenwald has already commenced a number
of houses. One of them belongs to the master workman Paul in
Lautergraeben. The buildings are not expensive, since the owner of the
forest gives the timber free; besides, it is said that they are to
remain exempt from taxes.
So Master Ehrenwald's business is beginning well; he is obliged to have
assistants in addition to his sons. He has also made plans for his own
house. As I was recently standing down by the brook fishing for trout,
he suddenly came up to me, I have no idea from where, and whispered
mysteriously into my ear: "Believe me, my new house will be devilish
fine, devilish fine!" No one else was near us, and the fish in the
Winkel were deaf. "But devilish fine," he whispered softly;
"magnificent will be my house!" The man is really childish in his
happiness; he is in his element; formerly it did not occur to anyone
that fine houses could ever be built in the Winkel forests.