Black Forest Village Stories Part 35

In the neighborhood of the great farm-house the roads were in fine condition. The stately building did not appear until they were almost at the door. Ivo saw Nat raking hay, while several farm-hands were at work around him. He did not run toward him, but set his bugle to his lips and played the tune of the old song,--

"Up yonder, up yonder, At the heavenly gate, A poor soul is standing In sorrowful strait."

Then he cried "Nat," and they were in each other's arms.

After long pathless wanderings, our story has reached a smooth highway which will bear it rapidly to its close. Ivo remained with Nat, who treated him like a brother. As one of the richest farmers in the country, he could do much for him without feeling a sacrifice. He went to Nordstetten as his proxy, and brought Emmerence, with whom, on a bright, happy day, Ivo was united.

All the villagers, and even his parents, were reconciled to his change of pursuits. It is strange how easily people are satisfied with their friends the moment they pay their own expenses.

Nat presented Ivo with the saw-mill, where he now worked to his heart's content, in company with his Emmerence. Often of an evening he sits under the walnut-tree and plays his bugle, which fills the valley with its melody. Far around, at the isolated farm-houses, the boys and girls stand in the moonshine listening to the plaintive tones. Emmerence once drew Ivo's attention to this; and he said, "You see, music is an emblem of human life as it should be. I play for our own satisfaction; and yet if I know that the sounds gladden the hearts of other men also, I am still better pleased, and play with more life and spirit. Let every man attend to his own business well, and he will help others too, and make them happy. I am not disinterested enough to be satisfied with playing tunes for other people to dance by. I like to dance myself."

"Yes," said Emmerence: "you are a learned man, and yet I understand you. When the boys used to sing while gathering fir-nuts in the Neckar valley, I always thought, 'Well, they sing for themselves; and yet it makes me happy to hear them too, and every one who has ears;' and so do the birds sing for themselves, and yet we are delighted; and if every one sings his part well in church it all chords well together, and is beautiful."

Ivo embraced his Emmerence with transport.

"If only winter never came here," she said; "for it is rather solitary."

"Well, in winter you must come and live with me," said the well-known voice of Nat.

FLORIAN AND CRESCENCE.

1.

THE GIRLS AT THE WELL.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Red Tailor.]

On Sat.u.r.day afternoon the house of the Red Tailor was alive with singing. Doors were opened and closed with a bang, windows thrown up, chairs and tables moved here and there, and the broom rattled among the lifeless bones; but over all was heard a rich, full, female voice, travelling up and down stairs, into rooms and out of pa.s.sages. Song followed hard upon song, grave and gay meeting with equal favor. At last the singer was forthcoming,--a girl of stout proportions but the utmost symmetry of form. A jacket of knitted gray yarn set off the swelling outlines to the best advantage: one corner of the ap.r.o.n was tucked up and left the other hanging jauntily. With the milking-pail in her hand, she went to the stable. The words of the songs were now more distinctly audible. One of them ran thus:--

"I climb'd up the cherry-tree; For cherries I don't care.

I thought I might my true love see: My true love wasn't there.

"It isn't long since the rain came down, And all the trees are wet; I had a true love all my own: I wish I had him yet.

"But he has gone abroad, abroad, To see what luck would do; And I have found another love: He's a good fellow, too."

With a water-bucket under her arm, she made her appearance again, locked the door of the house, and concealed the key under a stack of kindling-wood. The well before the town-hall was empty and locked up; the upper well, also under lock and key, was only opened by Soges every morning and evening, and water distributed to each family in proportion to the number of its inmates. This scarcity of water is a great evil, particularly in the heat of summer. On the way our heroine was stopped by Anselm the Jew's Betsy, who cried,--

"Wait, Crescence: I'll go with you."

"Hurry up, then. When is your intended coming back?" returned Crescence.

"At our Pentecost,--this day fortnight."

"When is it to be?"

"Some time after the Feast of Tabernacles. You must dance with us all day, mind. We'll have one more good time of it: we've always been good friends, haven't we?"

"Betsy, you ought to have married Seligmann and stayed here. A bird in the hand's worth two in the bush. Going all the way to Alsace! How do you know what's to become of you after you get there?"

"Why, how you talk!" replied Betsy. "With my four hundred florins, how am I to choose? And over there it counts for almost a thousand francs; and that's more like. Are you going to live in the village always? When your geometer gets an appointment, won't you have to go with him? Oh, did I tell you?--my intended went with Florian to the Schramberg market the other day from Strasbourg. Florian had I don't know how many--at least three hundred--ducats in his girdle, to buy beeves with. He carries himself like a prince, and his master trusts him with all his property. And they do say he's going to give him his daughter."

"I wish him much happiness."

"Now, you needn't make believe you didn't like Florian's little finger better than the whole geometer."

"What if I did? He's got nothing, and I've got nothing; and 'twice nothing is nothing at all,' says George the blacksmith."

The two girls had reached the well, where many of their companions were already awaiting the arrival of the officer of Government.

"Have you heard, Crescence?" cried Christian's Dolly--"Florian's come back an hour ago: you've got a full team to drive now."

"You preach to your grandmother," retorted Crescence: "such a beanpole as you may open every shutter of her windows and '11 never catch a gudgeon."

"That's it," said a girl with forward air and manners, who bore the ominous designation of "Corpse Kitty," because she fitted the shrouds.

Pa.s.sing her hand over her mouth, she went on:--"Give her her change, Crescence: we know it's all cash-down where you come from." She accompanied the words with a significant gesture.

"Oh, you're nervous because n.o.body will lend you any thing," replied the a.s.sailed one. "You're a sweet one, Dolly, to set _her_ a-going."

"Well, what did you fly at Dolly that way for?" said Melchior's Lenore: "she didn't mean any harm by it. Can't you take a little fun?"

"Has Florian really come home?" asked Crescence, softly.

"Of course he has," cried Corpse Kitty, aloud. "Just look out, you hemp-toad: you'll find you've 'most done carrying your head as high as a sleigh-horse: Florian will take the geometer's bearings before you know what's what."

Soges now appeared as another Moses to open the well for the daughters of Jethro: he did not seem to woo any of them, however, for he was not by any means in a bland or amiable frame of mind.

"Give Crescence the cream of the water: she's got to have the geometer's standees washed to-night," cried Kitty.

"Let her talk," said Lenore: "you can't worry her more than by not listening to her. She's just like the dogs: they bark at you, and if you walk on quietly they run home again and bark at the next person that comes along the road. She's after making everybody out as bad as she is herself, if she can. But you must be on the look-out about Florian now, or you'll get into trouble."

"Yes," said another girl: "he's brought lots of money with him, and the first thing he did was to give his father a gold ducat. The money must 'a' looked scared when it got into that room. The old fellow's so poor that the mice all ran away from him."

"Florian can dress and undress himself five times over and not take all the fine clothes out of his chest," said a third.

"And he speaks French 'most all the time."

"And he has a watch, with a chain, and all the tools of his trade hung to it in silver for charms."

"And he's got a black mustache you can hardly help kissing."