Heimatlos Part 14

"Can't you get out of the way, you ragged thing?" he cried angrily.

"What business have you here anyway, since you have no sled? I'll teach you how to get away."

He kicked a cloud of snow at her and was just ready to repeat it when some one behind him gave him a fierce blow. In great rage he doubled up his fist and turned savagely to attack his unknown foe.

It was Otto Ritter, who had just placed his sled in line and who now stood looking calmly at Chappi's clenched fist and raised arm. "Strike if you dare," was all he said.

Otto was a tall, slender boy, not nearly so stout as Chappi, but he had already proved, in previous encounters, that he possessed a skill in handling himself against which Chappi's weight counted for little.

Chappi was too wise to strike, but he shook his fist in the air and snarled, "Clear out! I don't care to have anything to do with you."

"But I have something to do with you," retorted Otto. "What business have you to drive Wiseli into the drift and then pelt her with snow besides? You are a coward to attack a defenseless child."

Otto disdainfully turned his back upon Chappi and went toward the girl, who was standing knee-deep in the snowdrift. "Come out of the snow, Wiseli," he said gently. "Is it true that you have no sled?"

"I was only looking at the rest," she answered timidly.

"Take mine and go down once," said Otto. "Hurry, for they are going to start in a minute."

Wiseli glanced quickly at Chappi, afraid that he would interfere with her going, but the boy seemed to have forgotten all about her. Otto helped her to seat herself on the sled, and the next minute she was going down the hill behind the others.

Wiseli had watched them for ten or fifteen minutes, and had secretly wished that she might be allowed to sit on one of the large sleds used to carry several at a time, but to go down alone was more than she had even hoped for; besides, this was the prettiest sled of all. It had a lion's head for the front decoration, and was finished with steel runners and made of light material so that it beat all the others in a race.

It seemed to Otto but a moment before the party returned, so he shouted, "Stay in line, Wiseli, and go down once more."

Wiseli immediately turned her sled and gladly led the line down the hill. She murmured timid thanks to Otto when she returned with the sled, but the happy, flushed face would have satisfied him even if she had said nothing. She heard Otto calling his sister as she started homeward through the panting crowd.

"Here I am!" and a plump, rosy-cheeked little girl came to him with her sled. Otto took his sister's warm little hand in his and they hastened home. They had spent much more than the allotted time to-night, but they had enjoyed themselves too much to entertain any regrets whatever.

CHAPTER II

THE HOME ON THE HILL

As Otto and his sister rushed into the long hall with its stone floor, they were met by Trina, an old and faithful servant, who held the lamp she was carrying high above her head to avoid getting the light in her eyes.

"You are here at last," she said half impatiently and half indulgently. "Your mother has been wanting you, and we have all waited for you until long after supper time."

Trina had been in the family before the children were born, and she exercised the same authority over them as did the parents, while she was even more indulgent. In fact, she idolized them both; but for their good, according to her views, she did not wish them to be too sure of it. Consequently she was always trying to be somewhat gruff for their especial benefit.

"Out of your shoes and into your slippers!" she commanded. She put the light down, and kneeling before Otto she unfastened his shoes and put the dry slippers on his feet. In the meantime she was urging the little sister to begin removing her wet shoes, but Miezi stood listening intently to something she thought she heard from the living room.

"Well," said Trina, "are you going to wait until next summer? Your shoes will be dry before then."

"Hush!" warned Miezi with upraised hand; "I heard something. Who is in the other room, Trina?"

"Only people with dry shoes are going in there," said Trina, still kneeling before Otto.

Just then Miezi gave a startled exclamation. "There, I heard it again!

It is Uncle Max's laugh, I am sure."

"What!" exclaimed Otto, and both children rushed for the living room door. "Let me go in first, Otto; I heard him first!" cried Miezi, endeavoring to push herself ahead of him; but Trina picked her up in her arms and carried her to the hall seat, where the old servant had a hard time trying to get the wet shoes from the impatient feet. The moment the girl was released she bounded into the living room and into Uncle Max's arms, for it was really he, sitting in the large armchair, looking as happy and prosperous as ever.

The children quite worshiped Uncle Max. He was their especial friend, from whom they had no secrets. His travels kept him away much of the time, and they seldom saw him more than once a year, but this seemed to make his visits the more appreciated, especially as he always brought them remembrances from the remotest parts of the world. Each time he came seemed a holiday to the children.

To-night they were hurried to the table, where a steaming supper awaited them. The children's excitement over the uncle's coming abated somewhat before this enjoyment, for coasting always brought sharpened appet.i.tes. Miezi was industriously engaged with her soup when her father said: "I think my little girl has forgotten her papa to-night.

I missed my usual kiss and handshake."

Miezi instantly let her spoon drop and pushed her chair back to run to the neglected parent, but he stopped her with, "No, no, you need not trouble now."

"I didn't mean to forget you, papa," she said.

"We will make up for it after supper, Miezchen," said the father.

"What did we christen the child, anyway?" he continued. "Wasn't it Maria?"

"I was there when she was baptized," said Max, "but I cannot remember.

It surely was not Miezchen."

"Of course you were there," a.s.serted his sister. "You were the child's G.o.dfather, and we called her Marie. It was papa himself who first called her Miezchen, and Otto made it still worse."

"No, mamma, surely not worse," interposed Otto. "You see, Uncle Max, it is like this: if she is a good little girl I call her Miezchen; this she is so seldom, however, that I usually call her Miezi. When she is angry and looks like a little ruffled hen, I call her Miez."

"And when Otto is angry, what does he look like?" inquired Uncle Max, addressing Miezi.

Before she could think of a comparison, Otto answered, "Like a man!"

They all laughed so heartily that Miezi stirred her soup violently in her confusion.

Uncle Max tactfully changed the subject: "It has been over a year since I have seen you children, and I wish you would tell me what you have been doing while I have been away."

Naturally the latest news was related first, and, in their eagerness to have Uncle Max know everything, both children wished to speak at once. Among other things they told of the fun they had in school, and that led Otto to tell about his experience with Chappi and Wiseli; how she had been driven into the snowdrift and rudely treated, and how, though she had no sled, she finally had had two rides on his.

"That was right, Otto," said his father; "always take the part of the weak and the oppressed, and honor the meaning of your name. Who is this little girl you speak of?"

"I doubt if you know her," answered Mrs. Ritter, "but Max knew the mother very well. You remember the frail linen weaver that lived near us? She was his daughter and only child, and she used to come often to the parsonage. She was a pretty girl with large brown eyes, and she could sing beautifully. Do you remember whom I mean?"

Just at this moment Trina brought in a message: "Joiner Andreas begs permission to speak with Mrs. Ritter, if it will not disturb her."

Quite a commotion followed this announcement. Mrs. Ritter dropped the spoon with which she was serving, and saying hastily, "Excuse me, please," left the room.

Otto and Miezi immediately pushed back their chairs to go also, but Uncle Max held Miezi fast. Otto stumbled over something in his haste, and Miezi struggled hard to free herself. "Do let me go, Uncle Max!

Let me go!" she cried.

"Why do you want to go, Miezchen?"

"To see Joiner Andreas. Let me go. Help me, papa."

"Tell me why you want to see Joiner Andreas, and I will let you go."