Seed-time and Harvest Part 94

"Trust me for that."

"Well,--I am now owner of Pumpelhagen; send some of your people out there, and let them tear down the paddocks you built yonder."

"I have thought, all along, that the beasts would have a short life."

"Well; I am also, after St. John's, the owner of Gurlitz."

"See, see! So with Herr Pomuchelskopp too, it is at last: 'Out! out!'"

"Yes; but now listen to me. I want to have a pastor's-widow-house built there, and it must be planned exactly like the parsonage, and stand just opposite, close by the church-yard. You can take the measure to-morrow."

"No need of that, I have two measures already, one of my own, and one that Mamselle Habermann took, with her ap.r.o.n-strings and cap-ribbons."

"Good," said Franz, and a merry smile overspread his face, "use that one."

"But it wasn't right."

"No matter! You must build after that measure. Buy your needful timber to-morrow, engage carriers here in Rahnstadt, and a good master mason; but before all things, don't breathe a word of it to anybody! If you want money, apply to Moses."

He went off, and old carpenter Schultz stood in the door, looking after him.

"n.o.blemen, n.o.blemen! Crazy performances! Cap-ribbons! Ap.r.o.n-strings!

But Pomuchelskopp out! out! Isn't that good news?"

Franz went to Hogen Selchow; Habermann and Inspector Bremer, who had been engaged for Axel, went with him. Axel departed, with bag and baggage, and the burgomeister from Rahnstadt came in, to superintend the transfer of the property, and with him Brasig, as a.s.sessor. Three weeks were taken up in this business, and in the repairs and refurnishing of Pumpelhagen; then all was arranged to satisfaction. The Frau Pastorin, also, had completed the preparations for the wedding. I shall write about this wedding, exactly as it was; it pa.s.sed over very quietly, and I shall quietly pa.s.s it over.

The day after the wedding, Louise and Franz, and the Frau Pastorin and Habermann, sat in a great coach, and Brasig was on the box, and they drove to Pumpelhagen. As they pa.s.sed through Gurlitz, there was a great display of fir boards and beams, and oaken sills, and a notched beam lay all ready, on one side, and the carpenter, Schultz, stood there, in his shirt sleeves, superintending his workmen. Franz stopped the carriage, and called out to the energetic old man, "Is everything ready, Herr Schultz?"

"Everything is ready."

"Then you may speak, Herr Schultz."

"All right!" said Schultz. "But, Mamselle Hab---- I should say, gracious Frau, what trouble you have cost me! When I thought I had it, I hadn't it by a long way. I shall have to put in another notched beam."

"What?" asked Louise, and looked at Franz.

"Only this, dear child," said Franz, putting his arm around her, "that I have bought Gurlitz, and am going to build a pastor's-widow-house here, just like the parsonage."

"For me?" cried the little Frau Pastorin, and the tears which had risen to her eyes, when she looked at the church-yard where her Pastor slept, flowed freely, and she grasped his hand, and bathed it with tears of joy, for the tears which start in sadness often change to tears of joy.

"And I thought," continued Franz, "that my father-in-law and Brasig might live with you, as they have done. And I thought, father, you could undertake the management of Gurlitz, and you and Brasig could also have an eye to Pumpelhagen, and see if it is managed properly."

"Just the thing!" cried Brasig, from the box, who had heard everything because the front was down, "Karl, what did I say to you? He'll do!"

Habermann's eyes glistened with joy. To have occupation and responsibility again! to be active and useful! Louise threw herself upon her husband's breast: "Franz, what a dear, dear fellow you are!"

And the carriage drove on, and arrived at Pumpelhagen. No triumphal arches this time,--but in every heart was erected a triumphal arch, to the glory of the Heavenly Father!

I have now finished my story, and might as well make an end of it; but I know how it is: many people would like to be informed of what has happened to our friends during the eighteen years since 1848, and so I will write one more chapter.

CHAPTER XLVII.

CONCLUSION.

A year ago, before I moved from Mecklenburg to Thuringia, I visited the old chimney-corner once more, where I had spent so many happy days in my youth; and so I came to Rahnstadt, and went from there one afternoon, in the month of June, along the road to Gurlitz.

I intended to visit Habermann and Brasig and the Frau Pastorin, whom I had known since the time I was an apprentice, and had often visited in Rahnstadt; I had known Gottlieb too, at first in his Pietist days, and,--strangely,--we came to be very good friends, although we held quite different opinions; probably because I was a very sedate youth, and Gottlieb liked me on that account.

When I arrived at Gurlitz, I went up to the widow-house, and took hold of the handle of the door; the door was fast. "Hm!" said I to myself, "it is Sunday afternoon, it is hot, they have all gone to sleep." I went to the window, and raised myself on tiptoe, to look in; when a voice behind me said:

"Eh, Herr, that will do you no good; there is n.o.body there."

"Doesn't the Frau Pastorin live here?"

"She is dead."

"And Habermann?" I inquired.

"He has moved to Pumpelhagen, to live with the gracious Frau."

"Is the Herr Pastor at home?"

"Yes, he is at home," said old Jurn, for it was he, "yes, he is at home, and the Frau Pastorin too; they are just drinking coffee."

I went to the house and knocked at the door. "Come in!" cried a rich voice. I entered,--well, in the course of my life, I have met with a great deal that I could not explain, and some things that were very surprising,--but this time I was not merely surprised, I was really startled! There sat Gottlieb, his haircut very reasonably short, and instead of resembling the hollow of Frau Nussler's baking trough his form was more like the increasing moon; the white, sunken cheeks had become smooth and ruddy, and the red, full lips seemed to say, "We have had a good dinner to-day, but we and the stout teeth behind us have done our duty." And that was the expression of the whole man, one that enjoyed good dinners, and yet did his duty. There was nothing lazy about his looks, all was firm and clean, and told of hard work, and refreshing rest, and comfortable meals. Well, and now! Of the Frau Pastorin Lining there was no trace, she had changed into the exact image of the little, round Frau Pastorin Behrends. "Hm!" said I to myself, "the wind sits fair in this quarter."

When the first greetings were over, we sat down together, and there were many questions to ask, especially on my side. The story that I have related I had mostly from Brasig; Habermann also would let a word fall, now and then, for I was rather a favourite with the old man, and some things I inquired about elsewhere, a little later, and because the princ.i.p.al events occurred while I was apprenticed on an estate, I have called it, "During my apprenticeship."

Gottlieb told me various things, and Frau Pastorin Lining helped him, for she was constantly interrupting; and when I rose, to go to Pumpelhagen,--for I had known Franz also, when I was apprenticed in the region,--Gottlieb said, "Yes, go! You will find them all together, there; we will come by and by, and bring our three children; the oldest is absent, he is already at the gymnasium." I went through the Gurlitz church-yard, thinking over what I had heard, and it was just what is always happening on this earth; joy and sorrow, birth and death.

The first of our friends who had deceased was Bauschan. He did not die a natural death,--not that he committed suicide--no! One day weaver Ruhrdanz came into the Rexow farm-yard, with a rusty flint-lock, took Bauschan by the collar, and led him into the garden; the new crown-prince was there as a spectator, and--as appeared afterwards--behaved very badly upon the occasion, rushing about, and growling. A shot was heard, and soon after Ruhrdanz came in, and reported that Bauschan had made a very Christian end. Frau Nussler poured him a gla.s.s of schnapps, and when he had drank it, very gravely, he said that he and the other Gurlitz people had been before the court that morning; they were all sentenced to a year's imprisonment, and because he was the head one, or the ringleader, as they called it, he must have six months longer. He went out, but came back to say: "Frau, you will not forget my old woman! It all happened because we had no papers."

The second who died was Jochen himself. Since the time that he had given up the control, he had taken to managing; he ran about the fields all day, especially in places where there was nothing to do, and would stand there, shaking his head, but saying nothing. And one Sunday, between Christmas and New-Year's, when the snow lay a foot deep over the fields, he was out and happened to fall into a ditch. He came home quite chilled; Frau Nussler gave him camomile tea, by the quart; he drank it submissively, but next morning he said, "Mother, what is not to be helped, is not. What must be, must. It is all as true as leather, and one can do nothing more about it," and with that, he fell asleep.

He had managed himself to death, and Frau Nussler thought seriously of inscribing on his tombstone:

"He died in his vocation."

Moses was the next; the old man had walked firm and upright through life, and firm and upright he went out of it. He died firm in his faith, and they did for him according to the customs of the tribe of Judah,--for he belonged to the tribe of Judah,---and when he was buried David sat in the ashes, with a torn coat, and many Christians followed him to the church-yard around which he had built the oaken fence, and I believe he is in Abraham's bosom, where Christians are also received.

And the day after his funeral, there were three people standing at his grave, namely, Habermann, and the two young Fraus von Rambow,--Frida was come for a visit,--and Habermann wiped his old eyes, and the two young Fraus laid a couple of fresh wreaths on the grave of the old Jew, and, as they walked thoughtfully away through the Rahnstadt meadows, Habermann said, "He was a Jew in faith, and a Christian in deeds."

And now comes Hauning's turn--our brave old Hauning. Pomuchelskopp had gone off, neck and crop, bag and baggage, in the blue coach with the coat of arms, and with as many furniture wagons as he had fat sheep, to Rostock. When times got a little better for credit, he earned himself a nickname, they called him, "Much too cheap!" for he related his story to every one who would listen to him, and lamented his hard fate, and the sale of Gurlitz, and always ended with a deep sigh, "Much too cheap! Oh, very much too cheap!"

His brave Hauning pursued her course unterrified, and kept up her authority; but, dear knows, what a time she had with those Rostock maid-servants! They would not put up with such treatment as the Gurlitzers were compelled to endure. Every week, she had a new maid; one, indeed, behaved more reasonably, that was an old cook; but when she had been there about three months, this worthless creature became refractory. Hauning was very decided, she caught up the fire-tongs, and gave her a hard blow on the head. The girl hadn't another word to say, for she fell flat on the kitchen hearth. A doctor came and talked a great deal about suggillations and fractures; but the end of the story was, the poor girl was taken to the hospital. The doctor was an honest man, he reported the matter to the rightful authorities, and Hauning was summoned before the court. If she had made use of a pudding-stick, of the same length and thickness, they would have done nothing to her; but, in her valor, she had seized the tongs! Tongs were not down in the Mecklenburg statutes, and so Hauning was condemned, besides the costs, and what she must give the poor girl, to six weeks' imprisonment.

Pomuchel protested, he appealed, he supplicated; it was of no use; Hauning was imprisoned on account of her great valor. He told his story to every one who would listen, he poured out streams of abusive talk about the court; at last, one of the judges happened to hear of it, and the chancellor made Pomuchel a present of four weeks' imprisonment, for himself. He tried to buy off, with money; but it was no go; even the Herr Senator Bank said, "No! this time the poltroon should be served out." And so those two old brave people were confined in adjoining rooms, over Christmas, 1852, and New Year's, 1853; and when they had been there a fortnight the jailer remarked to his wife: "Fika, there is quite a difference between the two; he runs about his room as if he was crazy, berating everybody, and she sits there, stiff and stark, in the same place, where she sat down the first evening."