CHAPTER II
_A Call in the Village_
The friendly village Upper Wood lay on the top of the hill close by thefir wood; it had a beautiful white church with a high, slender tower. Ata distance of three-quarters of an hour's walk, down in the valley, layLower Wood, a small community which, however, did not wish to beconsidered smaller. They had a new schoolhouse and a church of theirown, but the church had no tower, only a little red dome. Therefore thepeople of Upper Wood were a little proud, because their church was muchprettier and also because they learned much more in the old schoolhousein Upper Wood than in the new one of Lower Wood; but that was thechildren's fault, not the teacher's. In the middle, between the twovillages lay a hamlet consisting of a few farms and some small houses oflittle pretense. It was called the Middle Lot, and its people the MiddleLotters. They had the choice to what church and school they wished tobelong, whether to Lower Wood or Upper Wood, and according to theirchoice they were judged by the people of Upper Wood; for whoever wantedto learn much and be decent, he must, according to the Upper Wooders,strive to belong to them. This was a fixed and general idea of thepeople on the top of the hill. In the Middle Lot there lived only twofamilies who were generally respected; the Justice of Peace, who wasobliged to live there because otherwise he would have to be calledthere, and that would have been inconvenient. This peace-making man wasKaetheli's father. And the other was old Marianne, who lived in her ownhouse and pulled horse-hair for a living, and never did harm to anyone.
When on the next morning the three children of the parsonage passedMarianne's house on their way to school, Sally said: "It is fun to go toschool to-day for the strange boy of yesterday will come too; if we onlyknew his name. Kaetheli described him to me; he wears velvet pants. Ofcourse he will come to Upper Wood to school."
"Of course," said Edi with a dignified air; "who would think of going toLower Wood to School?"
"Of course, who would go there to school?" observed Ritz.
Then the three in perfect harmony entered the schoolhouse. But nostrange face was to be seen in the whole schoolroom; everything went onin the usual way to the end of the morning. Then everyone hurried awayin different directions. Sally was standing there, somewhat undecided;she would like to have heard something new of the strange boy and hismother, for she loved to hear news, and now not even Kaetheli, with whomshe talked things over, had been in school. But now she saw Edi soaringalong like an arrow into the midst of a crowd of boys, and they allacted so strangely and they shouted so strangely that Sally thought thatsomething particular must be in preparation there, and no doubtconcerned the new-comers. Then she could hear something from Edi. Shewent slowly on and kept on turning round, but Edi did not come, and onlyafter Sally had long since greeted the mother and was about to call herfather out of his study for dinner, did the two brothers come runningalong, their faces red as fire, and breathless, for they had lingered tothe last moment. The father was just leaving his study when both rushedtoward him and now it began: "We have--the Middle Lotters--with theLower Wooders--"
"Hush, hush," said the father. "First get your breath, then relate, oneafter the other; but before anything, first the soup." With these wordsthe father took Ritz's hand, and Sally and Edi followed them into thedining-room. Sally pulled Edi a little back and whispered:
"Tell me quickly, what did they tell about the strange boy?"
"About him?" returned Edi in a somewhat scornful tone. "I had forgottenall about him! We have something else to do than to talk about a strangeboy, of whom one does not even know whether he will come to Upper Woodto school."
This answer was somewhat unexpected to Sally and had a saddening effect;but she always could find a way out of an unpleasant situation. So shesat as still as a mouse during the whole time the soup was eaten, andher thoughts were hard at work.
Now the father turned to Edi and said: "Now you can relate youradventure, while Ritz remains quiet, and afterwards his turn will come."Ritz looked quite obedient for he had two large noodles on his plate towork with.
But Edi, in a moment, put down knife and fork and quickly began: "Justthink, Papa, we have made three songs, one for each parish. First, theLower Wooders began. The sixth class were angry because we laughed atthem, that they only now have to _make_ sentences, and we in the fourthclass have begun to _write_ them already. They made a song about uswhich runs:
"'Of Upper Wood the boys They in their minds rejoice Because they think that they the cleverest are, But if ever they must fight They are in sorry plight And they turn round and run for ever so far.'
"How do you like that song, Papa?"
"Well, that is such as Lower Wooders would make," said the father.
"And then," Edi continued, "we have made a song for an answer, that goesthus:
"'And of Lower Wood the crowd They always yell so loud That they never, never stay within their den, For all dispute and strife They are much alive For they use their fists when they ought to use their pen.'
"How do you like this one, Papa?"
"Just about the same. And who has sung about the Middle Lot?" asked thefather.
"The Lower Wooders and we together; they too had to have a song, but theshortest, as it ought to be. It runs so:
"'And they of Middle Lot They all together plot That they are striving zealously for peace, But with quarrelling they never cease.'
"And how do you like that, Papa?"
"They are, all three of them, kind of fighting songs, Edi," answered thefather, "and I should prefer that you keep busy with your historystudies, instead of taking sides in these party-fights. One never knowswhere one comes out, and such poetry usually ends with lumps on theheads."
Edi seemed much disappointed as he attacked his noodles with a visiblyspoiled appetite.
"And what has been your experience, Sally? Why are you so pensive?" thefather continued.
"Kaetheli was not at school," reported Sally, "and I had so much to talkover with her. Perhaps she is sick; may I go to see her this afternoon?We have no school, you know."
"Aha, Sally wants to see the strange boy," the sharp-witted Ediremarked.
"You may go, Sally," the mother said, answering a questioning look fromthe father. "But you will not go into any house where you have nobusiness, just to look at strangers. I know you are capable of doingsuch things. You can start soon after dinner."
Sally was very happy. She quickly fetched her straw hat and took leave.But outside she did not run straight through the passage-way as sheusually did in similar cases, but went to the kitchen door and peepedin, and when she saw 'Lizebeth at the sink, where the latter wasscraping her pans, she went in very close to the old woman and saidsomewhat mysteriously: "'Lizebeth, does Edi or Ritz perhaps have a tornmattress on their bed?"
'Lizebeth stopped scraping and turned round. She looked at Sally fromhead to foot, put her hands on her hips and said very slowly andimportantly: "May I ask what you mean by that question, Sally? Do youthink this household is so carried on that one lies about on raggedmattresses and sleeps, until a little one, who is far from old enough toturn a mattress, thinks of coming to ask 'does not this one or that onehave a ragged mattress' on his bed? Yes, Sally, what cobwebs you do havein your head."
"I do not care about the mattress, it is on account of Marianne that Iask," Sally explained. "Do you know, she now has some new people in herhouse and I should so much like to see them, and therefore I wanted somuch to know whether you could not sacrifice a mattress so that Mariannecould pull the horsehair for a mattress, for Mother will not let me gointo the house without a good excuse."
"Oh, so! that is different," said 'Lizebeth quite mildly, for she hadalso been wondering what kind of people her old friend had taken intoher home, and now, perhaps, she could learn something about them throughSally.
"I can help you, Sally," she said. "You go to Marianne and tell her thatI send my greetings, and I have long since intended to co
me and see her,but the likes of us cannot get away when we want to; we never know whatmay happen if we are out of the house for five minutes; but tell herthat I will surely come some fine Sunday. Now then go, and give mymessage."
Sally ran with a joyous heart, first through the garden, then away overthe meadow and down the hill as far as the fir wood, where the dry roadlay for a long stretch in the shade. Here Sally slackened her pace alittle. It was so beautiful to walk along in shade of the trees, whereabove in their tops the wind rustled so delightfully and all the birdssang in confusion. She also had to consider how she would arrange hercalls, whether she would go first to Kaetheli or to Marianne; but thistime old Marianne had a stronger attraction than Kaetheli and Sally feltthat she must go there first and give her message. Now her thoughts fellon the strange people and she had to imagine how they looked and whatshe was going to say, and what they would say when she knocked and askedfor Marianne. Thus she thought everything well out, for Sally had agreat power of imagining things.
In this way she came to the first houses of Middle Lot. She turned awayfrom the road and went toward Marianne's house, which stood a little wayfrom the road and lay almost hidden behind a hedge. As Sally had beenaccustomed to do, she now ran right into the house, although the housedoor was also the kitchen door. After entering the front door she stoodin the small kitchen and was at once before another door which led intothe living-room. This door stood wide open and Sally found herselfsuddenly in the presence of a lady dressed in black, who sat in thatroom sewing and who lifted her head at Sally's noisy entrance, and withlarge sad eyes she looked at the child in silence.
Sally grew as red as fire and in her embarrassment remained standingnear the door like one rooted to the floor.
Now the lady held out her hand and said in a friendly tone, "Come here,dear child, what brings you to me?"
Sally was quite confused. She did not remember why she had come, for shehad really not come to see Marianne. She had invented that--to get intothe house where she had arrived now so unexpectedly. She approached thelady and wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Sally grewcrimson and stood there more helpless than ever before in her life.
The lady took the child's hand and stroked her glowing cheeks.
"Come, sit down beside me, dear child," she then said, with a voice sosweet that it went deep into Sally's heart. "Come, we shall comegradually to know each other a little."
_Now the lady held out her hand and said in a friendlytone, "Come here, dear child."..._]
Now there came from out of a corner a quick noise of moving; Sally didnot know what it was, for until now she had not dared to look around theroom, but now she looked up.
A boy, a little taller than she, was carrying a small easy chair andplaced it before Sally. He looked at her with such a merry face as therestrained laughter came so visibly out of his eyes, that the sightbrought a complete reversion in Sally's feelings, and she, all at once,laughed right out; upon which, the boy too, relieved his feelings by abright peal of laughter, for the rushing in and then the confusion ofthe unexpected guest had long since tempted him to laugh; but he was toowell trained to dare to break out.
"Well, my child," said the mother with that winning voice, "and what hasbrought you to me?"
"I have--I ought to--I wanted," Sally began hesitatingly, "I wanted togive a message to Marianne--" Sally could not stop at half the truth.The sad, friendly eyes of the lady were penetratingly resting on hers,so everything had to come out as it was.
"That is lovely and friendly of you, that you want to see us, dearlittle girl. How did you hear of us?" asked the lady, and took offSally's straw hat, while she put the question to the child. She placedthe hat on the table and smoothed her hair with a mother's touch.
Now Sally related all in full confidence how it had happened, and thatshe and her two brothers had wanted to come yesterday to find out whowas coming to live with Marianne, and to find out how the piano and allthe other things could find room in the little house. Sally now, for thefirst time, looked around the room and she had to wonder a little, forshe saw only the piano and four bare walls, and then there were the twoeasy chairs on which she and the lady were sitting, and the small table.She knew that besides this room there was a very small bedroom, wheretwo beds could hardly find room. Sally could not set herself to rights;all was so different from what she had imagined. She had expected to seestrange and foreign things standing about everywhere and now she sawnothing besides an old piano. And yet the lady who sat before her in ablack silken dress looked more aristocratic than Sally could ever haveimagined; and the boy in his velvet suit looked quite like the oldknights in Edi's beautiful picture book, and he had brought her a seatwithout anyone telling him, and was more refined and courteous than shehad ever before seen a boy.
When Sally turned her surprised eyes again to the lady, she saw such apainful expression in her face that it came involuntarily into her mindhow the mother had said, that of course "she would not go there for thesake of staring at the people," and she felt that she was doingsomething very much like it. Sally rose. All at once she remembered towhom she really wanted to go, so she said hastily: "I must go toKaetheli; she may be sick." With these words she quickly offered herhand to the lady.
The lady, too, had risen; she took the proffered hand, held it betweenboth of hers, and looked once more so lovingly into the child's eyes,that her little heart was moved. Then she kissed her forehead and said:"You dear child, you were a friendly picture in our quiet room."
Then she let go of her hand, and Sally went through the open door intothe small kitchen. The boy, meanwhile, had opened the house door and nowhe stood outside quite courteously, like a doorkeeper, to bid Sallygood-bye.
"Are you not coming to school tomorrow?"
"Yes, indeed," was the answer.
That pleased Sally very much and she at once decided that he must becomeEdi's friend, for she had taken a great liking to the boy and when hewas Edi's friend then he would be hers too, and he must come everySunday afternoon and spend it with them and they would teach him allkinds of games; and many undertakings passed through her brain, for withthis friend everything could be carried out; he was so entirelydifferent from other boys and girls in the school. "Then you are comingto-morrow?" she asked with happy expectation.
"Where shall I come?" he questioned in return.
"To school, of course."
"Yes, indeed, I'll come to school."
"Well, then, good-bye," said Sally, giving her hand, "but I do not knowyour name."
"Erick--and yours?"
"Sally."
Now they shook hands, and Erick remained standing in the doorway untilSally had turned round the hedge, then he shut the door and Sally rantoward the house of the Justice of Peace. Before she reached it, oldMarianne met her, panting under the large bundle of horsehair which shewas carrying on her head. Sally was delighted to see her, for she hadjust remembered that she had not given 'Lizebeth's message. She rushedso quickly toward the old woman and with such force, that the latterwent back some steps and almost lost her balance, and Sally cried out:"Marianne, you have such nice people in your rooms. Do you talk muchwith them? Do you cook for them? Do you buy the things they need? Havethey no maid? Do you make their beds?"
"Gently, gently," said Marianne, who had recovered her balance, "else Ilose my breath. But tell me, how did you get into the people's room? Ihope you know how I am to be found."
Sally told her that she, for the shorter way, had not gone round thehouse, where, in the woodshed, a narrow stair went up to Marianne'ssmall room; but that she had wanted to run in the front way, through thekitchen, and out the back door; but that she had stood suddenly beforethe open door of the room and under the eyes of the lady.
"You must never do that again," Marianne interrupted Sally, raising herfinger warningly. "Do you hear that, Sally? Never do that again. Theyare not people into whose home you can rush, as if they were living onthe highway."
"Bu
t the lady was quite friendly, Marianne," soothed Sally, "she was notat all offended."
"That makes no difference, she is always so, she could not be otherwise,and just on that account, and on account of many other things, do youhear, Sally? Promise that you never again go that way when you want tocome to me. Will you promise?"
"Yes, indeed I will. I do not intend to do it again. Good night,Marianne! Now I have forgotten the main thing: 'Lizebeth sends hergreetings and she will come to see you on a fine Sunday."
The last words came from some distance, for Sally had already started ona run while she gave the message, and when Marianne wanted to send hergreetings, Sally was already far away. After a few more jumps Sallyarrived at the house of the Justice of Peace, in front of which stood alarge apple tree which shaded the stone well. Here stood Kaetheli whodid not look sick at all, but splashed with two fat, red arms about thewater in which she seemed to clean some object eagerly.
"Then you are not sick. Why didn't you come to school then?" Sallycalled out when she saw her.
"Oh, it is you? Good evening! I could not make out who was jumpingabout, and I hadn't the time to look," Kaetheli said with someimportance. "That is also the reason why I did not go to school. Ihadn't the time, for Mother has gone away today to see sick Grandmother,and then we got young chickens, twelve quite small ones, and that is whyI have to wash a stocking, for I have run after the chicks everywhereand near the barn I stepped in the dirt quite deep. But come, I willshow you the chickens. Never mind if I have only one stocking on."
But Sally had only very little time left and besides, her head was fullof quite different things and she wanted to hear Kaetheli tell ofsomething else than the new chickens, so she said quite decisively: "No,Kaetheli, I haven't time enough to see the chickens. I only wanted toknow whether you were ill and I want to tell you something. I have seenthe strange lady and the boy whom you know. He does look nice. Do youknow his name?"
"He?" said Kaetheli, shrugging her shoulders. "Of course I know. Hisname is Erick and just think, he goes to school at Lower Wood; I haveseen him myself today, with his school sack, going there."
That was a blow for Sally. He went to school at Lower Wood. What was nowto come of her beautiful plans? Of all the planned Sundays which were tobe so full of joy and delight, and the whole friendship with theprepossessing Erick? For how could Edi ever be brought to making friendswith a fellow who went to Lower Wood to school, when he just as wellmight have gone to Upper Wood? Sally was very downcast, but she did noteasily give up a pleasant intention. On the way home she wanted to thinkwhat could be done, therefore she stretched out her hand to theastonished Kaetheli, and this time the invitation, to at least come intothe room and eat a piece of bread and butter, was not accepted; norwould she go with Kaetheli behind the barn where they could fetch downripe cherries from the large cherry tree--it was all of no use.
"Another time, Kaetheli, it is already so late I must go home," andSally ran away. Kaetheli stood there much surprised and looked afterher, and in her bright mind she thought: "Sally has something new in herhead, else I could have brought her to the cherry tree, for she is notalways so anxious to go home; but I will find out what it is."
Meanwhile Sally ran for a long stretch, then she began to walk slower,for she had to think over so many things and she was so lost in herplans that she forgot when she arrived at the garden which stretchedfrom her home far into the meadows. Ritz stood on the low wall andbeckoned with wild gestures, for Sally had not seen him at first.
"Do come a little quicker so that you can tell something, else we willhave to go to bed, for Auntie has already looked twice at her watch.Were you in the barn at Kaetheli's? How many cows are in it? Have youseen the young goat?"
But Sally had different things in her head. She hastily stepped into thehouse, while Ritz followed. The rest of the family were in theliving-room. Mother and Auntie were mending stockings; Father wasreading a large church paper. Edi, his head supported on both hands, satlost in his history book. Sally had hardly opened the door when shecried out with much excitement: "Oh, Mother, you ought to have seen howfriendly the lady was, and she is so beautiful and so gentle and sogood, and quite an aristocratic lady; and Erick in his velvet suit islike a knight, and so fine and polite. Edi could not find a nicerfriend."
They all looked surprised at Sally, and a pause followed this outburst.Sally had quite forgotten that she was not to go to the strange people,and that she had given, as the object of her walk, the call on Kaetheli.She now remembered everything and she grew very red.
"But, dear child," said the mother, "did you really, in spite ofopposition from me, press into the home of the strange people? How couldyou enter the house without an excuse?"
"Not without an excuse, Mamma," said Sally, somewhat embarrassed."'Lizebeth had given me a message for old Marianne."
"Which the inquisitive Sally fetched in the kitchen for the purpose ofcarrying out her plan, that is clear," remarked Auntie. When the wholetruth lay open to the light of day, Sally felt relieved and she returnedwith new zeal to her communication. She had much to describe: the emptyroom and the silk dress of the lady, and her sad glances, and then theknightly Erick with his joyous laughter and the merry eyes; but shecould not describe it all so attractively as it seemed to her.
"So," said Edi, looking up from his book, "now you have another friend.It will go, no doubt, with him as with little Leopold!" After giving herthis fling he bent again over his book and read on, taking no notice ofanything.
Sally did not find the desired sympathy. She was so full of herimpressions that she felt Mother and Aunt should be all afire and aflamefor her new friendship. Instead of that, the two kept on mending thestockings; Father did not even look up from his paper and Edi had only asatirical remark for sympathy. Sally had rather a bad reputation formaking friendships. Almost every week she saw some one who appealed toher so much, that she must make a friendship at once; but thefriendships were mostly of short duration, for she had imaginedsomething else than she often found on looking closer. This made herquite unhappy at the time, but the next week she had already found someone else who filled her thoughts.
The last unfortunate friendship had brought forth Edi's satire to agreater degree. The tailor of Upper Wood had three sons, and since thefather on his wanderings had spent some time in Vienna he gave his sons,in remembrance of the beautiful days which he spent there, the names ofthree Austrian grand dukes. It was this strange name that had firstattracted Sally; to that was added that Leopold, the oldest of the sons,who had lived with his grandfather until now, but had come recently toUpper Wood, always wore elegant jackets and pants after the latest cut.Leopold had entered Sally's class and his appearance had at onceinspired her. But he was so small and dainty that he received the nameLeopoldy from the whole school. The rumor had preceded Leopold, that hehad staid three years in the same class in the town where hisgrandfather lived. So Edi looked down on Leopoldy from an elevation of afourth class boy and noticed with scorn how Sally found pleasure in thelittle fellow and befriended him. But that did not last long for, aftera trial of a week, Leopoldy was set back two classes, since he had beenput in the fifth class on account of his years, but not his deserts. Inthese eight days Sally had discovered, with sorrow, that Leopoldy wasunusually silly, and Sally was glad that the enormous gap that liesbetween the fifth and third class, made easier the rupture of thisfriendship which could not continue, for nothing could be done withLeopoldy. So it happened that no one listened with sympathy to theenthusiastic description which Sally gave of her new friends, for eachone remembered Leopoldy, and that was not inspiring.
This general coolness angered Sally very much. She knew her new friendsif they would only believe her. All ought to be so interested in thismother and her Erick, that they would want to know everything possibleabout them, and now no one asked a question and they hardly listened toher communication. That was too much; Sally had to relieve her tension.She suddenly broke forth to Edi, who wa
s entirely lost in his book:"Although you read a thousand books one after the other, and act as ifone did not tell anything, and you think that one must have nofriendship with any human being on this earth but only for thethousand-thousand-year-old Egyptians, yet you might be glad to have afriend like Erick."
Edi must have just read something that made him solemn, for he lookedquite restrainedly up from his book and said quite seriously: "You see,Sally, you do not at all know what friendship is, for you believe thatone can have a new friend every week. But one ought to have only onefriend for the whole life, and one must drag his enemy three timesaround the walls of Troy."
"Then he will have to make a nice journey if he comes from Upper Wood,"remarked Sally quickly.
The mother meanwhile had left the room, and Aunt rose from her work.
"You will get quite barbaric from pure historical research," she said,turning to Edi, "but now it is high time to go to bed, quick! But whereis Ritz?"
Ritz had withdrawn behind the stove a full hour ago in the hope of thereescaping his fate for some time. But sleep had overcome him in the darkcorner.
"Now we have the trouble," the aunt cried, when the sleeper had beendiscovered, and only with the greatest difficulty she woke him.
While Auntie was pushing and shaking the sleepy Ritz, Edi had triedseveral times to get near her, but she had always escaped him. Now aquiet moment came. Ritz was at last awake. Edi quickly stepped up to hisaunt and said: "I did not mean alive, only after his death, likeAchilles did."
"Now he too is talking in his sleep and says all kinds of nonsense," theaunt cried quite excitedly, for she had long since forgotten Edi'sjudgment on the enemy and she did not know what he was talking about."No, no, it cannot go on like this, children must go to bed in goodtime, else the whole household gets out of joint."
Edi wanted to explain once more, only to make it clear to her, and notto have to go to bed misunderstood, so he had followed her about, andnow a greater misunderstanding had arisen. There was no more chance forexplanation. Ritz and Edi were shoved into their room, the light put onthe table, the door was closed, and away went Auntie.
"I am sure Mother will come to us. I must explain everything to her,"Edi said to himself, for to be so misunderstood disquieted the thinkingEdi exceedingly. And the mother came as she did every evening, and shepromised to make everything clear to Auntie, so he could be pacified andfind the sleep which Ritz long since had found again.
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