Black Forest Village Stories Part 28

Or I'll stagger so."

Then, without a pause, he sang again:--

"She I don't want to see, She's every day with me; And she I love so dear, She's far away from here.

"Can't get a pretty one, Won't take a homely one; Must have some sort o' one: What shall I do?"

"Why, Constantine, are you so smart at Polish begging?" asked Babbett.

"Is it true that Emmerence sent you next door with a 'G.o.d help you'?"

"I'll bet you three pints of the best that she'll go to the bel-wether dance with me, and with n.o.body else."

Florian sang,--

"Fret for a pretty girl?

That would be a shame: Turn to the next one, And ask for her name."

Peter fell in:--

"If I have no sweetheart, I live without distress; There's morning every day, And evening no less."

Constantine sang,--

"When it snows the snow is white, And when it freezes the frost is bright; What noodles do with fear and fright I do with all my might."

Florian began:--

"It's just a week to-day, to-day, My sweetheart told me to go away: She cried, and she sobb'd, But I was gay."

And

"Three weeks before Easter The snow will be flush, My girl will be married, And I in the slush."

"That's not the way," said Constantine: "turn round the handle:"--

"Three weeks before Easter, There'll be slush in the snow: The jade will be married And I'll courting go."

Laughter and applause from all sides of the room were the reward of this poetic effort. Peter then struck up:--

"Sweetheart, you thief, You're all my grief; And while I live, No comfort you'll give."

And

"If I but knew Where my sweetheart has gone, My heart wouldn't be Half so weary and lone."

Florian sang again:--

"If you would live like a little bird, And have no cares to shend ye; Just marry, till the summer's round, Whome'er the spring may send ye."

Constantine sang again:--

"I come to see you; It pleased me to come; But I won't come any longer: It's too far from home.

"It wouldn't be too far, And it wouldn't be too rough, But, just understand, You're not near good enough."

Ivo sat at the table, absorbed in unpleasant reflections. He called to mind how at this hour he was usually to be found at his solitary lamp, struggling to penetrate the mysteries of creation and redemption,--how far he was then removed from all the doings of men, from all the wishes and aims of individuals; and he contrasted all this with what he now saw of the life led by his natural comrades in age and station. The nucleus of all their thoughts and actions was love, whether they made it the subject of wanton jibes or of strains of tender longing. Once more existence lay before him, severed, as by a sharp steel, into two irreconcilable halves,--the secular and the ecclesiastical. Babbett, who had watched him closely, had not failed to perceive the irksome twitches of the muscles of his face: she now approached the singers, saying,--

"Why, a'n't you ashamed of yourselves? Can't you sing a single decent song?"

Constantine replied,--

[Ill.u.s.tration: Can't you sing a single decent song?]

"Well, if you don't like it, I like it the more; And, if you can do better, Just put in your oar."

"Yes," said Florian: "we'll sing a good song if you'll join in."

"Oh, yes, I'll join in."

"What shall it be?" asked Peter.

"'Honest and true.'"

"'Is my wealth and my store'? no, I don't like that," said Constantine.

"Well, then, 'Ere the morning dew was wasted.'"

"Yes." Babbett sang l.u.s.tily, and the others fell in:--

"Ere the morning dew was wasted, Ere the night-blown gra.s.s was shrunk, Ere another's eye had tasted, On my love mine eyes were sunk.

"Shoot the fox and rabbit early, Ere they travel in the wood; Love the girls ere they grow surly, Or forget how to be wooed.

"Till with vines the millstone teemeth, And the mill-race runs with wine, While life's current in us streameth, Thou art mine and I am thine."

Ivo thanked Babbett warmly for the pretty song; but Constantine immediately followed it up with

"I'm as poor as a mouse: There's no door to my house, There's no lock to my door, And I've no sweetheart more.

"It's all up with me Over land and sea: When the Danube dries up Our wedding shall be.

"And it will not dry up, And is wet to this day; To find another sweetheart I must up and away."

"Now let's have 'A boy he would a walking go,'" said Babbett.

"Keep your boy at home," replied Constantine.

"Oh, you! If you'd been kept at home, they wouldn't have turned you out like a dog in the wrong kennel."