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Cornell Mniversity Library
BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME
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Henry W. Sage —

1891

 

 

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THE GRANDMOTHER.
THE GRANDMOTHER

@ Story of Country Life in Wohemia

By BOZENA NEMEC

TRANSLATED FROM THE BOHEMIAN

WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR

By FRANCES GREGOR, B.L.

 

CHICAGO
A.C. MCCLURG AND COMPANY

1892
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AHH EST
RAS OTe

CopyRIGHT
By A. C. McCLurG AND Co,

A, D. 1891

BR
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE
AUTHOR.

Bozena Nemec was botn in Vienna, February 2, 1820.
Her father, John Pankel, was equerry to the Duchess of
Zahan, the owner of the large Nachod estates. The
Duchess spent most of her summers in the castle at
Nachod, where she was visited by many distinguished
people from all parts of Europe, and even from England.
Most of the incidents related in THE GRANDMOTHER are
based on fact, for the Princess of the story was the
Duchess of Zahan, and Barunka, none other than the
author Bozena Nemec. The Duchess early recognized
Bozena’s talents and did not a little to encourage and aid
her in her education. The life at the castle had also
much influence upon the young girl.

Bozena’s father was a great lover of music and litera-
ture, and tried to awaken the same taste in his children.
He loved them all; but Bozena on aécount of her talents
was his favorite child, and shein turn clung to her father
with great devotion. In after years she said, “Father
could do with me what he wished. When he turned his
beautiful eyes to me and said, ‘Go, my Bozenka, do this
or that,’ I would have jumped into the fire for him.”
This love was the source of much of her inspiration.

It was quite different with the mother. Theresa
Novotny was a woman who in no way rose above the
common mass of woman kind. She loved her husband
and her children; she was an excellent house keeper; but
city life in Vienna had changed the bright peasant girl into
a stiff lady of few words and of great austerity in morals
and behavior, The smallest fault was sharply repri-
manded; and for severer punishments, which were by no
means rare, the children were expected to thank her.

5
6 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Bozena looked upon this as something fearful, and never
could be induced to do it, although she knew that a much
harder whipping was sure to follow her refusal. She said:
“Although at times my feelings urged me to submit, my
feet would not move from the spot, and my lips refused to
utter the words of repentance.”

Bozena’s education as regards books was begun when
she was but four years old. Her mother brought her a
card from the market, upon which were the letters of the
alphabet in large, black print. Giving her the card she
said: “Here Bozenka, since you can learn songs you can
learn your letters.”

Her first teacher was an “uncle,” as he was called,—
though in reality he was uncle to noone. It was said of
him that he knew how to do more than eat bread. Bozena
said: “I went toshow him my card and he offered to
teach me. I soon learned the letters and how to put them
together to form words. At the same time I learned to
write, using for this purpose the large lead buttons upon
his coat and vest. In the summer we studied but little.
He went about with me and taught me the names of
flowers and trees and the habits of insects.”

When Bozena was six years old she was sent to school
in another village, where she was to live with her god-
mother. She had never heard anything good of schools, and
had every reason to be afraid, At home they often said to
her: “Just wait; when you get to school, they'll teach
youto mind!” The old servant trying to comfort her
would say: “Dear child, it cannot be otherwise, Teach-
ing is torturing; every one must bearit. When I went
to school I was thrashed like rye.” Bozena, in her recol-
lections says: “The first morning, when I awoke at
Chvalin, I thought I was the most unhappy creature in
the whole world. Weeping I arose and weeping I dressed
myself. At the breakfast table my godmother said to
Aunt Agnes: ‘When you goto the market, take Bozena
with you to school; she has already been announced.’
My heart seemed to be heldin a vise, and my tears were
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF AUTHOR. 7

ready to fall; yet I feared to cry before my godmother.
Aunt Agnes took the basket, and putting my satchel over
my shoulder started with me for school.”

On the way, Bozena refused to go on and begged to
stay at home one day longer. Much persuasion and con-
siderable force were required before the old aunt suc-
ceeded in getting her into the school room, but ‘her fears
were soon dispelled by the kind, pleasant school’ master.
In this school she remained six years, and,it was this
teacher, as she afterwards acknowledged, who laid, the
foundation of her future culture and taught her to love
her neighbor, her country, and her God. She kept his
memory green in the pretty tale of “The Schoolmaster.”

When Bozena left school, she lived at Chvalkovitz in the
family of the steward of the manor. As her stay here had
much influence upon her life, some account of her sur-
roundings will not be out of place. She said:

“The steward was a good friend of my father’s, and
that was why I was placed in the family. He was a man
in middle life, the most learned of all the officers,. indeed,
of the whole neighborhood. He had a fine libtary, and
that not merely for ornament. Shakespeare and Goethe
were his favorite authors. He was well versed both-in
the classics and in modern literature. He read French
and English and always took the best journals. ‘He was
also very fond of gardening. Although he wished well
to the Bohemians, his own sentiments were those of .a
true German. He was a good, jovial man, an admirer of
beauty, fond of good living, hospitable, and agreeable to
all. His influence could have been exerted much for good,
had his domestic relations been different.

“His wife, who was several years his senior, was in no
way congenial to him. She had been maid of honor to
the Princess, and when young must have been beautiful;
but now her black hair and her sky blue eyes were her
only remaining charms. This, however, was not the cause
of the trouble. She and her husband were not adapted to
each other. She was a bigoted Catholic, while he was a
8 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Protestant who hated priests. She could bear no reflec-
tions upon the nobility; the time she had spent in ‘the
castle she regarded the most delightful period of her life,
and her husband tormented her for this with the most bit-
ter irony.

“Then, too, he preferred Bohemian cookery, while she
prepared everything according to an Austrian cook-book.
When he would not eat, her eyes filled with tears as she
said: ‘Aber, August, es ist ja gut, iss nur.’ To which he usu-
ally replied: ‘Ich glaub’s, liebe Netti, habe aber keinen ap-
petit.” Then he smiled grimly, arose, drank a glass of
wine, and went into the fields,—a sure sign that something
was wrong. These fits grew more and more frequent, un-
til not a day passed when he was not under the influence
of liquor, and at such times he indulged in the most cut-
ting remarks, causing intense suffering to his wife. I
often came upon her kneeling with hands upraised before
the crucifix, and weeping bitterly. I pitied her, but on
other eccasions I was sorry for him. He wanted to en-
joy life, but something ailed her all the time; she was
swathed in flannels from one end of the year to the other.
When she went to bed, she was dressed like a driver ready
to start for Amsterdam.

“He read late at night and early in the morning, and
when thus engaged no one dared disturb him. His wife
was very jealous of him, and in her turn succeeded in in-
flicting on him as much wretchedness as he on other oc-
casions caused her. They had three children, and it
grieved him much that they were not at all bright. AsI
was there for study, I often went to him to ask a question,
to have something explained, or to change my book, and
he always did everything for me with the greatest pleas-
ure. When I had read a book through, I was obliged to
tell him its contents, and he explained what I had not
understood. Some evenings I read to him; in short, I be-
came his pet and at once aroused the jealousy of his wife.
Later it was worse.”

She describes the house as follows: “The manor-
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF AUTHOR. 9

house had, indeed, been renovated, but upon the old
foundation, so that it was half old and had_ lost
none of its somber appearance. It lacked not in dark
underground passages nor in fearful tales of ghosts, so
that I was almost dead with terror when I was obliged
after dark to cross from the apartments of the servants to
our own rooms. The way led through a long, dark cor-
ridor, lighted by high gothic windows, through which the
light of the moon came in, making fantastic shapes upon
the walls. It was said that a white lady haunted the pas-
sage, also one of the family of Dobren, who had been
murdered there and who walked about in his shroud, from
his room to the chapel, carrying his head under his arm.

“And my chamber! I was lost in it. It was high,
dark, with tall windows and oaken blinds. The doors were
of the same material, with heavy iron bolts which I always
closed for the night. But one becomes accustomed to
everything ;— I, too, soon felt at home in the old manor-
house, and looked upon myself as one of the‘ ladies of the
castle’ of whom I had read so much.”

A young and beautiful castle maid must also have her
knight, and so far as is known there were two such
knights, who lived in the castle above. Of these she
speaks:

“The one was a youth about seventeen years of age, a
relative of the lord of the castle. He was a good boy,
but somewhat foolish, handsome, but with no expression
in his face. We were good friends, but when I was told
that he was in love with me, that was the end of our
friendship.

“The other knight was quite different. He was no
longer young, being about thirty-six years ofage. He was
dark, well built, but small. His face had something sa-
tanic in it, but was not repulsive. His forehead was high,
his hair, dark brown; he had handsome white teeth, his
eye —that was demoniac. He could look dreamily, lov-
ingly, so thatall the young women were in love with him.
When he fixed his eye upon any one, which he often did,
10 THE GRANDMOTHER.

he was irresistible. The person was like a bird charmed
by the eye of its destroyer. /

“He was a strange man. Attimes he wasa great spend-
thrift, then again he was the most exemplary of men.
Now he laughed at the whole world and no sentiment was
sacred to him; and yet I saw the time when he was en-
tirely overcome by his own feelings. He seemed cold,
and yet he was the most passionate of men. He was a
man of the world, experienced in all the ins and outs of
society. Although fond of gay company, he himself was
never gay. He was passionately fond of dancing, but was
never carried away by the excitement. While he danced,
his face was paler than usual, but his eyes betrayed the fire
within.

“He had no respect for women. I never saw him kiss the
hand of any lady, nor give a compliment to any of them.
He held our mistress for nought; she was the butt of all
his wit. He ruled the house; the steward liked him, and
the rest of us were afraid of him. Whenever he fixed his
eyes upon me, 1 trembled, and yet I was never angry; I
was the only one whom he loved; before me he wept like
a child, but that was much later. At this time he had re-
gard for my youth and treated me with great considera-
tion, and severely reprimanded any one who dared utter
a word of double meaning before me.”

Bozena remained in this family only two years, but the
instruction she gained in that short time was invaluable to
her. Under the direction of the steward she had read
many excellent books, and what he had not given her she
took and read secretly. She had been placed there to learn
German, music, and needle work. Music she soon gave
up, when her instructor told her she had no talent for it.
As for her needle work, her teacher found her very care-
less and often reprimanded her severely; but she bore his
censure meekly, knowing that it was well deserved.

Her time was spent among books, and she lived in an
ideal world whose inhabitants were the heroes and hero-
ines of novels, poems, and dramas. When she returnea
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF AUTHOR. It

home she continued her reading, borrowing books from
the castle library.

Her life at home was quiet, but full of ideals and aspira-
tions. She looked forward to the future as to a new
world that had wondrous treasures in store for her:

But her dreams were cut short by her marriage, in
1837, to Joseph Nemec, an officer of finance in Kosteletz.
It was a marriage without love, entered into at the wish
of her father, How she regarded this step may be judged
from her own words.

“The years of my girlhood were the most beautiful of
my life. When I married I wept over my lost liberty,
over the dreams and beautiful ideals forever ruined. . .
Woman’s heart is like wax, every picture is easily im-
pressed; but what does it all avail? Now everything
seems to me pale, tame, and cold, and lead seems to course
through my veins. 1 could weep over myself, when I
consider my condition.”

Although Madame Nemec looked upon her marriage
as entirely unhappy, it was not without some redeeming
features. Her husband was a very estimable man, beloved
of many friends. He was, moreover, a man of culture, an
ardent patriot, and had his wife been an ordinary woman
they might have lived happily together. But what she
lost in her marriage she tried to make up in her literary
life.

While Madame Nemec had always taken a deep in-
terest in all things pertaining to her country, and her early
education had been in the Bohemian language, she knew
nothing of the literature of her native land until the family
moved to Polna, where she became acquainted with the
writings of Tyl* She had already written some tales,
and now, roused by patriotic enthusiasm, she composed
the beautiful poem, Zo the Bohemian Women, This and
several other poems and tales gained her much popularity,
so that when, in 1841, the family moved to Prague, she
was received with open arms into the circle of young

* One of the earliest novelists of this period in Bohemia.
12 THE GRANDMOTHER.

authors. The chief of these were Erben, Tyl, Chelakov-
sky, Nebesky, and Chejka,

The last named gentleman proved of the greatest ser-
vice to her. He saw that she was introduced among the
most cultivated ladies, provided the way for some culture
in art, and induced her husband to engage for her a Bohe-
mian teacher, which he not only willingly did, but him-
self began to study the language. These were happy and
profitable days for the author, but they were of short dura-
tion. In 1845, her husband was again transferred, this
time to Domazlitz (Taus).

A new field of labor was now open to her. She found
abundant material to work up, and during this time she
wrote: Pictures from Domazlitz, Fables, Karla, and The
Mountarn Village.

Madame Nemec’s experience at Domazlitz was some-
what singular. She delineated the life of the people so
faithfully that some of the tradesmen, imagining that she
was holding them up for ridicule, tried to rouse the
people against her. Charles Havlichek* took her part,
and so ably defended her in the papers that the people
turned to her with greater love than before. She tried to
instruct them through conversation, read to them, and
lent them books, and they appreciated her kind labors,
followed her from village to village, until the police inter-
fered, thinking that she was propagating ideas hostile to
the government. While at Domazlitz, she contracted the
dread disease, consumption, so that her future work was
done under great disadvantages.

In 1847, M. Nemec was transferred to Neumark, on the
Bavarian frontier. Here his wife’s health was considerably
improved. She wrote: “I feel much better and am be-
coming fleshy; perhaps it is because my life in these
mountains is so peaceful. We sent the two elder boys to
Domazlitz to school, and Iam very lonesome; you know
I live only in my children. O, heavens, soon the world
will claim them and then my heart shall yearn for them

* One of the patriots who fell a victim to Austrian intolerance.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF AUTHOR. 13

in vain!” This peaceful life at Neumark was of short
duration; in 1848, they were transferred to Nymburg.

The same year came the stormy times when the revo-
lutionary wave swept over Europe. Bohemia, too, was
involved; and M. Nemec, as an ardent patriot, could not
look on with indifference. Ina letter dated at Nymburg
we read: “Believe me, no one here knew what to do.
All, Germans as well as Bohemians, wanted to go to the
assistance of Prague. I wept for my husband as already
lost, but was resigned, sending him in God’s name to fight
for his country.” As might be supposed, she, too, was not
silent; for all faithful Bohemians were carried away by
enthusiasm, imagining that the time had come for deliver-
ing the great mass of their countrymen from servitude,
and for securing for all constitutional rights. Atthis time
she wrote Peasants’ Politics which gives a very good
idea of the way the countrymen looked upon the consti-
tution, and the rights and privileges promised them.

The active part Madame Nemec and her husband took
in the revolution did not remain overlooked by the gov-
ernment. In 1849, M. Nemec was transferred to Liberetz,
the following year to Hungary, and in 1853, he was placed
upon the retired list with a pension of three hundred
and fifty florins. This was a great blow to the family,
and from this. time poverty was added to the numerous
ills against which they had to struggle. The same year
they lost their son, Henry, and Madame Nemec, broken
down by her afflictions, was taken seriously ill.

After this the family lived mostly in Prague, M. Nemec
being closely. watched by the police. He engaged in some
literary. labors and held various positions on the staff of
some of the newspapers. But the amount thus earned was
so small that the family were reduced to great want. A
small collection was made for them; but the hosts of
friends that had surrounded the promising author in the
days of her prosperity scarcely showed themselves in her
adversity. A few remained true, but they were not able
to assist her. Her difficulties, too, were increased by her
14 THE GRANDMOTHER.

reckless generosity. This was atrait of her whole family
and is well described in the story, in the scene where
Grandmother relates to the Princess her journey from
Silesia to Bohemia. Add to this her open and confiding
nature, and it may easily be seen that she was often made
the dupe of selfish, designing persons. She believed in
them and shared with them all she had, whether it was
much or little. Thus, when the collection spoken of above
was given her, she immediately divided it with a young
man who was just then in the house and who had
awakened her sympathy by the recital of his own trials
and financial difficulties. This, too, was one of the causes
that often disturbed the domestic harmony of the Nemec
family.

The year 1861 was the darkest of her life. Eager to
seize any opportunity whereby she might relieve herself
from eating the bitter bread of charity, she accepted the
offer of a publisher at Lytomysl to give her her board and
twelve florins for every thirty-two pages of manuscript
which she should write. She accordingly moved to that city ;
but the publisher treated her most cruelly. Not only did
he refuse to give her the price agreed upon, but he went so
far as to order the hotel keeper not to give her any food at
his charge. As she had come from Prague almost penni-
less, she was obliged to live on bread and water until she
could receive assistance from herhusband. Her expenses
ranged from four to eight kreutzers a day. She returned
to Prague shortly after, completely discouraged and broken
down both mentally and physically, and died the following
year. She was buried in the old cemetery of Visehrad,
and several years later the ladies of the American Club
erected a suitable monument over her grave.

Her husband lived till 1869. Her son Charles isa pro-
fessor in the Agricultural College at Tabor, Jaroslav fills
a similar position in the Real School at Odessa, and her
daughter, Dorothea, is a teacher in Jincin, Bohemia.

The two motives that guided Madame Nemec in her
work were her patriotism and her love for the common
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF AUTHOR. 15

people. While at Domazlitz she wroteto afriend: “The
common people, they are my joy;I feel refreshed when-
ever I grasp the hard, rough hand of one of these
women.”

In reply to the advice given in the Prager Zeitung, that
all should learn German as fast as possible and thus end
that eternal strife between the two nationalities, she says:

“ Yes, that would be well, only that by so doing we should
become estranged from the greater part of our nation,
which looks to us for guidance and light.” This is the key
note to her whole life and work. She loved the common
people and labored to elevate them. She knew that she
could reach their hearts much more quickly through their
mother tongue than through another language, and for
this reason she wrote in Bohemian, although she had been
better educated in the German language. Then, too, she
longed to see her nation strong, great, and free, and many
fervent words were spoken and written by her to arouse
the educated women to greater earnestness in its behalf.

As regards religion, Madame Nemec believed in the
essential principles of Christianity, but was an enemy to
priestcraft and superstition. Writing from Domazlitz she
said:

“The ruin of several villages here is that accursed
Jesuitism. Not far from here are two priests of that order,
and you have no conception of the evil they have done!
They have imposed upon the people, stupefied them, led
them into poverty, so that they walk about bewildered like
so many wandering sheep. And no one dares touch that
hundred headed dragon!”

While a child, it was her custom to pray before the
picture of Christ.

“ While praying, I did not turn my eyes from it, and I
gazed so long that it ceased to be a mere picture. Christ
seemed to be before me in reality ;to him I prayed, to him
I made known my wants, asking for his help and guid-
ance. My father praised me, said that I was pious, held
me up as an example to the other children, who performed
16 THE GRANDMOTHER.

their devotions carelessly, often dozing or pushing each
other; they did not see before them the living Christ!”

Madame Nemec was not the worshiper of mere culture.
In one of her letters is the following:

“You say that you desire nothing so much as culture.
Believe me, if you knew the nature of culture here (in
Germany) as it is exhibited in its results, you would be
astonished. Above all things I desire to protect my chil-
dren against this culture. I know not whattothink! My
highest aspirations, too, were to gain culture; and yet to-
day I have the conviction that more precious than all
learning is simplicity of manner and purity of heart. I
see here among the cultured a contempt for worthy senti-
ments; I see the conceptions of virtue perverted or up-
rooted, and this not only among individuals, but through-
out society. Domestic happiness, sincere love and tender-
ness, these are unknown. This culture of which the
wealthy boast forms a deeper and deeper abyss betwen the
learned and the unlearned, the rich and the poor, and who
is there to reconcile these opposites?”

The works of Madame Nemec were collected and pub-
lished, in 1862, in eight volumes, and again, in 1875, in six
volumes. THE GRANDMOTHER is without question her
best work, but Zhe Mountain Village is also a novel of
much excellence. As a story, it is superior to the former,
since it has a more developed plot; but as a picture of Bo-
hemian life, it is too local and restricted. The other works
consist of shorter stories, tales and fables, and Recollections
Jrom my Life in Hungary.

Since the days of Madame Nemec many authors have
arisen, and a great deal has been written that has been re-
ceived with much favor by the public. As novelists, Mrs.
Caroline Svetla, Alois Jirasek, Benes Trebisky, and, per-
haps, some others are superior to Madame Nemec; but as
a faithful artist of Bohemian country life-—one that saw
and was able to reproduce the salient characteristics of the
country people,—she has no equal;. and her works will
ever be regarded as a precious legacy to her people.
THE GRANDMOTHER.

CHAPTER I.

T was long, long ago, when last I gazed on that
dear face, kissed those pale, wrinkled cheeks,
and tried to fathom the depths of those blue eyes,
in which were hidden so much goodness and love.
Long ago it was when, for the last time, those aged
hands blessed me. Our Grandmother is no more;
for many a year she has slept beneath the cold sod.
But to me she is not dead. Her image, with its
lights and shadows, is imprinted upon my soul, and
as long as I live, I shall live in her. Were I mas-
ter of an artist’s brush, how differently, dear Grand-
mother, would I glorify you! but this sketch —I
know not, I know not how it will please. But you
used to say, “ Upon this earthy ball, not a soul that
pleases all.” If, then, a few readers shall find as
much pleasure in reading about you as I do in
writing, I shall be content.

Grandmother had three children, a son and two
daughters. For many years the.older daughter
lived with relatives in Vienna; when she married,
the younger took her place. The son, a mechanic,
worked at his trade in a small town in Bohemia,

2 17
18 THE GRANDMOTHER.

while Grandmother dwelt in a village upon the
borders of Silesia. Her family consisted of herself
and Betsey, an old servant who had been in the
family ever since Grandmother could remember.

Grandmother did not live the life of a recluse;
all the people of the village were to her brothers
and sisters; she was to them a mother, a counsellor,
and a friend. No christening, wedding, or funeral
could go on without her. The course of her life
was so even, her days were so busy and happy,
that she desired no change — she would have been
content to live thus forever.

This even course of life was disturbed by a let-
ter. Grandmother often received letters from her
children, but none ever came before, fraught with
such momentous questions for her to solve. It was
from her daughter in Vienna, who told her mother
that her husband had obtained service in the house-
hold of a certain princess, whose estates were but a
few miles distant from the village where Grand-
mother lived, and that he was to be at home with
his family during the summer only, while the
princess lived in the country, and therefore it was
their earnest desire that Grandmother should come
to live with them. Indeed, no excuse would be ac-
cepted, as both she and the children had set their
hearts upon it and were eagerly looking for her
arrival.

Upon reading this letter Grandmother burst
into tears. She did not know what to do. She
loved her daughter, and her heart yearned towards
her grandchildren whom she had not seen; on the
other hand, the good people of the village were
very dear to her, and it was hard to break away
THE GRANDMOTHER. 1g

from all the old associations. But blood is thicker
than water. After much tossing up of the
matter, her maternal instincts came to the aid
of her convictions, and she decided to go. The old
cottage, with all it contained, was given over into
the care of Betsey with these words: “I don’t
know how I shall like it there; and perhaps, after
all, I shall die here among you.”

_A few days after this a wagon stood at the door
of the cottage. Wenzel, the driver, placed upon it
Grandmother’s large flowered chest; her feather-
beds tied in a sheet; the spinning wheel, to her an
indispensable piece of furniture; a basket, contain-
ing four top- knotted chickens; and a bag with a
pair of party -colored kittens. Last, but not least,
came Grandmother herself, her eyes red from
weeping. Jt was no wonder that she wept; for
around her stood the villagers, who had come to bid
her farewell, and followed by their blessing she
rode slowly to her new home.

What bright anticipations, what rejoicing at The
Old Bleachery,—for thus the people called the iso-
lated house that had been assigned to Grand-
mother’s daughter, Mrs. Proshek, as her home on
the estates of the princess. Every few moments
the children ran out to the road to see if Wenzel
was coming; and every passer by heard the won-
drous news that Grandma was coming. The chil-
dren kept asking each other, “ How do you sup-
pose Grandma will look?”

They knew several grandmas, whose images
were curiously confounded in their little heads, and
they could not decide to which of them their own
could be compared.
20 THE GRANDMOTHER.

At last the long expected team arrived.
“Grandma’s come!” shouted the children in a
chorus. Mr. and Mrs. Proshek rushed out to meet
her; Betty, the maid, followed carrying the young-
est child, and behind her came the three children
accompanied by the two dogs, Sultan and Tyrol.

The wagon stopped at the gate, and Wenzel
helped a little old woman to alight. She was
dressed in the garb of a peasant, having her head
wrapped up ina large white kerchief. This was
something the children had never seen before, and
they stood still, their eyes fixed upon their grand-
mother. Mr. Proshek welcomed her cordially, her
daughter embraced and kissed her, and Betty pre-
sented the dimpled cheeks of Adelka to be kissed.
Grandmother smiled, called the child “her own
sweet fledgling,” and signed her with the cross.
Then she turned to the other children and said: “« O
my darlings, my little ones, how I have longed to
see you!” But the children, with downcast eyes,
stood as if frozen to the spot, and uttered never a
word; and not until they were ordered by their
mother would they step forward to be kissed,and even
then they could not recover from their amazement.
They had known many grandmothers in their life,
but never one like this; they could not turn their
eyes from her; they walked round and round and
examined her from head to foot.

They wondered at the curious little coat, with
its full pleating, like organ pipes, behind; the green
linsey-wolsey petticoat, bordered with a wide rib-
bon was an object of great admiration; they were
pleased with the flowered kerchief that was tied
beneath the large, white head shawl. They sat
THE GRANDMOTHER. 21

down upon the ground that they might examine
better the red wedge-shaped insertion in her white
stockings, and also her black slippers. ‘Willie
touched the pretty patchwork on her handbag, and
the fouryearold Johnny, the older of the two, slyly
raised her white apron; he had felt something
hard beneath it, something hidden away in her
large outside pocket, and he wanted to know what
it was. Barunka, the oldest of the children, pushed
him away, whispering: “ Wait, I'll tell on you! you
want to feelin Grandma’s pocket!”

That whisper was a little too loud, it would have
been heard behind the ninth wall; Grandmother
noticed it, and turning from her daughter she put
her hand in her pocket and said: “ Well, look at
what I have here!” She placed upon her lap a
rosary, a jack- knife, several bits of crust, a piece of
twine, two horses and two dolls made of ginger-
bread; these were for the children. As she dis-
tributed them she said: “Grandma brought you
something more.” Thus speaking she took from
her handbag some apples and Easter eggs, and set
the kittens and chickens at liberty. The children
shouted with delight. Grandma was the best of
all grandmas! “These kittens were born in May,
are four colored, and will make excellent mousers.
These chickens are so tame that if Barunka teaches
them, they will follow her about like puppies.”

The children then began to inquire about this
and that, and soon were on the best of terms with
Grandmother. Their mother rebuked their end-
less questioning; but Grandmother said: “Never
mind, Theresa, we are happy in each other’s
love,” and so they had it their own way. One sat
22 THE GRANDMOTHER.

in her lap, another stood upon a bench behind her,
and Barunka stood before her, intently gazing into
her face. One wondered at her snow-white hair,
another at her wrinkled forehead, and the third
cried: “« Why Grandma, you have but four teeth!”
She smiled, smoothed down Barunka’s dark brown
hair, and said: * My child, I am old; when you
grow old, you, too, will look different.” But they
could not comprehend how their smooth, soft hands
could ever become wrinkled like hers.

The hearts of the grandchildren were won the
first hour, for Grandmother surrendered herself to
them entirely. Mr. Proshek won her love by his
frankness and the goodness of heart that beamed
from his handsome face. One thing, however, she
did not like, and that was that he could speak no Bo-
hemian. What little German she had ever known
she had forgotten, and yet she so longed to have a
talk with John. He comforted her some by telling
her that although he could not speak the language,
he understood it quite well. She soon perceived
that two languages were used in the family: the
children and the maid spoke to Mr. Proshek in
Bohemian, while he replied in German, which they
understood. Grandmother hoped that in time she,
too, would be able to understand it; and in the
meantime she would get along as well as she
could.

Another thing that did not quite suit her was
the appearance of her daughter. She had expected
to find her as she was when she left home, a bright,
cheerful peasant girl, and now she saw before her
a stately lady, in city garments, of stiff manners
and few words. This was not her Theresa! She
THE GRANDMOTHER. 23

observed, too, that their domestic life was quite dif-
ferent from that to which she had been aceustomed ;
and although, for the first few days, she was sur-
prised and delighted, she soon grew tired of the
new ways, and had it not been for the grandchil-
dren, she would have packed up and returned to
her own little cottage.

Mrs. Proshek, it is true, had some city notions;
but she was not to be disliked for this, for on the
whole she was avery estimable woman. She loved
her mother dearly, and the departure of the latter
would have grieved her much. She was not a lit-
tle disturbed when she perceived that her mother
was becoming homesick; and guessing the cause,
she said to her: “ Mother, I know that you are
used to labor, and that you would not be content
here, if you had nothing else to do than to go about
with the children. Should you desire to spin, I
have some flax up in the garret, and if the crop is
good I shall soon have much more; still I should
prefer to have you see to the housekeeping. My
duties at the castle, together with my sewing and
cooking, occupy all my time, so that the rest must
be left entirely to the servants. Now, if you will
be helpful to me in this, you may manage every-
thing your own way.” “That I will gladly!” re-
plied Grandmother, overcome with joy. That very
day she climbed up the ladder into the garret to see
about the flax, and the next day the children
watched the process of making thread upon the
spinning wheel.

The first thing of which Grandmother assumed
full charge was the baking of bread. She did not
like to see the servants handling “ the gift of God ”
24: THE GRANDMOTHER.

without any reverence or ceremony. They never
signed it with the cross, either before or after tak-
ing it out of the oven; they handled it as if the
loaves were so many bricks. When Grandmother
set the sponge, she blessed it, and this she repeated
each time she handled it until the bread was placed
upon the table. While it was rising no gaping fel-
low dared come near it lest he should “ overlook ”
itand make it fall; and even little Willie, when he
came into the kitchen during baking time, never
forgot to say: * May God bless it!”

Whenever Grandmother baked bread, the chil-
dren had a feast. For each one she baked a little
loaf filled with plum or apple sauce; this had never
been done before. They, however, had to learn to
take care of the crumbs. “ The crumbs belong to
the fire,” she used to say as she brushed them up
and threw them into the stove. If one of the chil-
dren dropped a bit of bread, she made him pick it
up, saying: “ Don’t you know that if one steps upon
a crumb, the souls in purgatory weep?” She did
not like to see bread cut uneven, for she used to
say: “ Whoever does not come out even with his
bread will not come out even with people.” One
day Johnny begged her to cut his slice from the
side of the loaf, as he wanted the crust, but she said:
«“ When one cuts into the side of the loaf, he cuts
off God’s heels!’ But whether it be so or not, you
must not get into the habit of being dainty about
your food.” So Master Johnny could not indulge
his appetite for crusts.

Whenever there was a piece of bread that the
children had not eaten, it always found its way into
Grandmother’s pocket; and when they happened to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 25

go to the water, she threw it to the fishes, or
crumbled it up for the birds and ants. In short, she
did not waste a crumb, and ever counseled the chil-
dren: “ Be thankful for God’s gift; without it there
are hard times, and God punishes him who does
not value it.” Whenever one of the children
dropped his bread, upon picking it up he was
obliged to kiss it. This was akind of penance; and
whenever Grandmother found a pea, she picked it
up, found upon it the chalice, and kissed it with
reverence. All this she taught the children to do.

If at any time a feather lay in the path, she
pointed to it saying: “ Stoop down, Barunka!”
Sometimes Barunka was lazy and said: “ O Grand-
ma, what is one feather!” But Grandmother at
once reproved her. “ You must remember, child,
that one added to another makes more, and a
good housewife will jump over the fence for a
feather.”

The larger of the two front rooms was used by
Mrs. Proshek as her bed-room. Here on occa-
sions of domestic festivals the family used to dine
or take their lunch. In this room they had modern
furniture; but Grandmother did not like it here. It
seemed to her impossible to sit comfortably in those
stuffed chairs with their carved elbows, when one
had to be constantly on one’s guard lest they should
tip over or break in pieces. Once, only, had she
made the experiment. When she sat down and
the springs gave way, she was so frightened that
she almost screamed. The children laughed at her
and told her to come and sit down again, assuring
ner that the chair would not break; but she would
not try it again. “O go away with your rocker,
26 THE GRANDMOTHER.

who wants to sit in it? it may do well enough for
you, but not for me.” She was afraid to place any-
thing upon the polished stands, lest they should be
rubbed or scratched; and as for the large glass case
that held all sorts of bric-a-brac, she declared that
it was a nuisance; for the children were sure to
knock into it and break something, and then get a
whipping from their mother. Whenever Grand-
mother held Adelka, she sat by the piano, and
when the little girl cried, she always quieted her by
striking some of the keys; for Barunka had taught
her to play with one hand the tune to the words,
“ Those are horses, those are horses mine.” * While
she played she kept time with her head. Some-
times she remarked: “ What things people do in-
vent! one would think a bird were shut up in there;
it sounds like the voices of living creatures.”
Grandmother never sat in the parlor unless she
was obliged to do so. She liked best her own lit-
tle room, which was next to the kitchen and the
servants’ apartments. Her room was furnished ac-
cording to her own taste. By the side of the large
stove that stood in the corner was a long bench.
Next to the wall stood her bed, at whose foot was
the large flowered chest. On the other side was a
small bed, where Barunka slept; she had obtained
this privilege as a special favor from her mother.
In the middle of the room stood the large bass-
wood table, the legs of which were bound together
by braces that served as foot-rests. Above the table
hung a dove made of an egg-shell and pleated pa-
per;—this was to remind one of the Holy Ghost.
In the corner stood the spinning wheel and distaff.

* A popular peasant song.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 27

The walls were decorated with several pictures of
saints, and above Grandmother’s bed was a crucifix
adorned with garlands. Inside of the double win-
dow were some flower pots with sweet balsams
and musk, and on the sides there hung little linen
bags of medicinal herbs, such as linden blossoms,
elder blossoms, and the like.

The table drawer contained Grandmother’s sew-
ing, a bundle of sacred hymns, the prayers of the
Holy Passion, some spinning- wheel cords, and a
blessed candle which was always lighted when a
thunder storm was coming up.

What the children liked the best in her room
was the large flowered chest. They loved to ex-
amine the blue and green roses with brown leaves
upon the red background, and the blue lilies with
red birds among them; but they were the most de-
lighted when she opened the chest. The inside of
the cover was lined with pictures and prayers,— all
brought from the various shrines to which people
made pilgrimages. On one side of the chest was a
small drawer, and what treasures were in that!
Family documents and letters from her daughters
in Vienna, a small linen bag full of silver dollars
sent by her children for her betterment, but which
out of joy and gratitude Grandmother never spent.
In a small wooden box, there were five strings of
garnets, with a silver coin on which was engraved
the picture of Emperor Josephand Maria Theresa.
When she opened that box,—and she always did
so whenever the children asked her,—she would
say: “ See, my children, thése garnets were given
me by your grandfather for my wedding, and this
dollar the Emperor Joseph himself gaveme. That
28 THE GRANDMOTHER.

was a good man, may the Lord grant him eternal
glory! Well, when I die all this will be yours,”
she added, as she closed the box.

«“ But, Grandma, how was it that the Emperor
gave you that dollar? Tell us about it,” said
Barunka.

“Remind me of it some day, and I will tell
you,” she replied.

Besides these things Grandmother had in that
side drawer two rosaries that had been “touched”
(by sacred relics), streamers for her caps, and
usually some delicacy for the children.

At the bottom of the chest were her clothing and
linen. All those linen petticoats, aprons, coats,
corsets, and kerchiefs lay there in the best of order,
and on the top of all were two stiffly starched caps,
with large bows behind, that were called “doves.”
These things the children were not allowed to
touch. Still, when Grandmother was so disposed,
she raised one article after another saying: “See,
children, this petticoat I have had for fifty years;
this coat was worn by your grandmother; this
apron is as old as your mother;— and all as good
as new; and you spoil your clothes in no time.
That all comes because you do not know the value
of money. Do you see this silk coat? it cost a hun-
dred Rhine dollars; but in those days they paid
with bank-notes.” Thus she went on, and the
children listened as though they understood it all.

Mrs. Proshek wished her mother to wear city
garments, because she thought they would be more
suitable; but to this Grandmother would not listen.
She said: “ The Lord would surely punish me, if I,
an old woman, should begin to grow worldly.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 29

Such changes of fashion are not for me; they
would not suit my old age.” Thus she remained
faithful to the “good old ways;” and soon every
thing in the house went according to her will, and
no one thought of disputing her word.
CHAPTER II

N the summer, Grandmother rose at four, but in
the winter, at five. The first thing she did was
to bless herself and kiss the cross upon her rosary.
This rosary she always carried with her, and at
night placed it beneath her pillow. Then she
dressed and said her prayers, sprinkling herself
with holy water; this done, she sat down to her
spinning, and sang morning hymns as’she worked.
Her own sleep, poor old lady ! was not good; but
she remembered how sweet it used to be when she
was young, and so was always glad to let others
enjoy it.

After she had been up almost an hour, a light
step was heard, one door squeaked, then another,
and in a moment more, Grandmother stood at the
kitchen door. At that instant the geese sneezed,
the hogs grunted, the cows lowed, the chickens
shook their wings, and the cats, coming from some-
where, rubbed themselves against her feet. The
dogs jumped out of their kennel and at one bound
were by her side; if she had not been careful, they
would have knocked her over and scattered the
grain which she had for the poultry. She was
very fond of all these animals, and they seemed
equally fond of her. She could not bear to see any
creature harmed, no, not even a worm! She would
say: “What is injurious to man, or must be killed
for food, with God’s will kill it, but let it not

30
THE GRANDMOTHER. 31

suffer needlessly.” The children were never allowed
to look on while a creature was killed, lest by
pitying it they should make it die hard.

Once, however, her wrath was roused against
the two dogs, Sultan and Tyrol. There was
cause! They had dug into the ducks’ house and
before morning had killed ten ducklings, — bright
yellow ones and full of promise. When, the next
morning, Grandmother discovered this, her hands
fell to her side. There was the old goose, fright-
ened and cackling, and with only three ducklings
left of the large brood that she had hatched out,
when they were deserted by their own truant
mother. At first she suspected the raccoon of the
deed, but she soon discovered by the tracks that it
was the dogs. The dogs, those faithful watchers!
She could scarcely believe her eyes. And yet they
came out and wagged their tails as if nothing had
happened. “Away from me, you wretches!
What had those ducklings done to you? Are you
hungry? Indeed, you’re not; you have done this
out of pure willfulness. Away, out of my sight!”
The dogs dropped their tails and sneaked off to
their kennels; Grandmother, forgetting that it was
yet early, went into the bed-room to tell her
daughter of the misfortune.

When Mr. Proshek saw her pale face and tear-
ful eyes, he thought that the burglars must have
broken into the store-room, or that Barunka was
dead; but when he heard the whole story, he could
scarcely refrain from smiling. What were a few
ducklings to him! He had not “set” them; he had
not seen them break through their shells; he did
not know how pretty they were as they swam in
' 32 THE GRANDMOTHER.

the water, at times hiding their little heads and
showing their pretty pink feet, to him they were
nothing but so many roasts. For all that, he arose
and went to administer justice. Taking the heavy
horsewhip from its hook, he proceeded to give the
dogs something that they would not be apt to for-
get. When Grandmother heard the noise, she
placed her hands upon her ears; but she said: “It
can’t be helped, they must be made to remember
it!??, When, however, an hour later, they still
stayed in their kennels, she went out to see if
they were harmed. “What’s gone is gone, and
after all they are only dumb brutes,” she said as she
looked inside. The dogs moaned and crawled to
her feet upon their bellies, looking so mournful
that she said: “ Now you are sorry, are you not?
See, thus it happens to such rascals; remember it.”
And they did remember it. Whenever the duck-
lings wabbled about the yard, the dogs hung their
heads and skulked away, and this seeming peni-
tence again won them Grandmother’s favor.

When the poultry was fed, Grandmother called
the servants, if they were not yet up. After six
o’clock she went to call the children. She rapped
gently upon Barunka’s forehead — the soul is thus
awakened the soonest——-and whispered: “ Little
maiden, it is time to arise?” She helped her to
dress and then went to call the rest of the little
ones. If she found them awake and lounging
about in bed, she spanked them, saying: “ Up, up,
the cock has marched twice around the yard, and
you are still in bed. Are you not ashamed?”
When they were up, she helped them to wash, but
she never could learn how to dress them. These
THE GRANDMOTHER. 33

curiously made clothes, with all their straps, hooks,
buttons and buckles, were beyond her comprehen-
sion. As soon as they were ready, they knelt
before the picture of Christ and said The Lord’s
Prayer. Then they went to breakfast.

In the winter, when there was no regular work
to do, Grandmother sat in her room with her spin-
ning; but in the summer, she took her work into
the orchard, or into the yard, where stood the large
linden, or she went out walking with the children.
During her walks she gathered herbs, which she
dried and put away for future use. In all her life
she had never had a physician. She also used to
get a large supply of herbs from an old dame who
came from the Sudetic mountains. When the
herb-dame came, she was always entertained at The
Old Bleachery. She brought the children a bunch
of sneezewort, and the housekeeper fragrant herbs
and moss for the window sills.* But the children
enjoyed most the wonderful tales which she related
about a certain prince, named Rybercol, that great
hero that played such pranks upon those moun-
tains. Somewhere, hidden away in the forests,
lived a princess named Katharine, and Rybercol
was in love with her. His journeys to and from
the princess were marked by great horrors. When
she called, he rushed to her with such delight that
everything that came in his path and hindered his
progress was destroyed. Trees were broken and
torn up by the roots; the roofs of houses and barns
were carried away by the hurricane caused by his
headlong speed; great boulders were hurled down

* In Bohemia the windows are double, and the space between them
being quite large is filled, in winter, with moss and ferns.

3
34 THE GRANDMOTHER.

the sides of the mountain, destroying cottages, and
at times killing the inhabitants; in a word, his
pathway was marked by destruction as if the hand
of the Lord had passed over it in vengeance.
Although this prince rushed to his beloved with
such joy, she did not allow him to remain, but after
a time drove him away, when he wept so hard that
all the streams overflowed and there was danger of
an inundation.

The herb-dame brought each year the same
herbs and the same stories; but they always seemed
new to the children, who looked for her coming
with eager anticipation. As soon as the meadow
saffron was seen in the fields, they said: “« Now the
herb-dame from the mountains will come;” and if
her arrival was delayed, Grandmother would say:
“ What has happened to our Granny? I hope she
has not been afflicted with illness, or that she is not
dead!” Thus she was the constant theme of con-
versation till she again made her appearance in the
yard, with the large basket upon her back.

Sometimes Grandmother took the children ow
for long walks, either to the gamekeeper’s or the
miller’s, or wandered about with them in the woods.
There the birds sang sweetly, the ground was
covered with leaves, making a soft bed, the air was
fragrant from the lilies of the valley and the violets.
and there they could gather primroses, wild pinks
thyme, and those beautiful Turk’s cap- lilies. The
last was the favorite flower of the pale Victorka
who brought it to the children whenever she saw
them gathering flowers. Victorka was always
pale, her eyes shone like two live coals, her hai
hung over her shoulders in disorder, her clothe:
THE GRANDMOTHER. 35

were soiled and ragged, and she never spoke to any
one. There was a large oak on the borders of the
forest, where Victorka used to stand for hours, her
eyes fixed upon the mill-dam. At twilight she
used to go to the edge of the dam, and seating her-
self upon an old stump gaze into the water, and
sing long, long into the night.

One day, as the children heard her singing, they
asked: “ Grandma, why doesn’t Victorka ever have
any nice clothes, and why doesn’t she speak to any
one?”

‘“‘ Because she is crazy.”

“ And what is it to be crazy?” again asked the
children.

“For example, Victorka doesn’t speak to any-
one, goes about ragged, and lives in the woods both
summer and winter.”

“In the night, too?” asked Willie.

“ Certainly. Don’t you hear her as she sings
every night by the dam? After that she goes to
sleep in the cave.”

“And isn’t she afraid of Jack -o0’-the-lantern,
or of the waterman?” asked the children in great
surprise.

“Why there is no waterman,” said Barunxa,
*¢ Papa said there isn’t.”

In the summer it was quite unusual for Victorka
to come to the house to beg; but in the winter she
came like the raven, rapped on the door or window,
and stretched out her hand. As soon as she
received a piece of bread or something else to eat,
she hastened away without saying a word. The
children, seeing the bloody tracks left on the ice by
her bare feet, called to her: “‘ Victorka, come here
36 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Mamma will give you some shoes, and you can
stay with us.” But she heeded them not, and in a
few moments was again out of sight.

On summer evenings, when the sky was clear,
Grandmother used to sit with the children upon the
bench under the old linden. While Adelka was
small, she sat in Grandma’s lap, and the rest of the
children stood at her knees. It could not be other-
wise, for as soon as she began to speak, they looked
right into her face so as not to lose a single word.

She told them about shining angels that dwell
above and light the stars for the people, and about
guardian angels, who protect children, rejoicing
when they are good and weeping when they are
bad. The children then turned their eyes to the
thousands of bright lights that shone in the heavens,
some small, some large and of various brilliant
colors.

“T wonder which one of those stars is mine?”
asked Johnny one evening.

“ God alone knows,” replied Grandmother ; “ but
think, could it be possible to find it among those
millions? ”

“ I wonder whose are those beautiful stars that
shine so bright?” asked Barunka.

* Those,” replied Grandmother, “ belong to peo-
ple whom God especially loves, His elect, who have
accomplished many good works and have never
displeased Him.

“ But, Grandma,” again asked Barunka, as the
sad tones came to them from the dam, “ Victorka
has her star too, has she not?”

“Yes, but it is clouded. But come, let us go in;
it is time to go to bed, for it is quite dark. Let us
THE GRANDMOTHER. 37

pray ‘Angel of God, Guardian Mine?” They
entered the house, and Grandmother blessed them
with holy water and tucked them up in their little
nests, The little ones fell asleep at once, but
Barunka often called her Grandma, saying that she
could not sleep. She came, took her granddaugh-
ter’s hands in her own, and began to pray with her,
and they prayed until the girl’s eyes were closed.

Grandmother’s bedtime was ten o’clock. She
knew the hour by her eyelids—they felt heavy
then. Before she retired, she examined all the
doors to see if they were locked. She called the
cats and shut them up in the garret, lest they
should come into the bed rooms and choke the
children. She put out every spark of fire, and
placed the tinder box upon the stove. Whenever
a storm appeared to be brewing, she got out the
blessed candle, and wrapping a loaf of bread in a
white napkin placed it upon the table, while she
admonished the servants: ‘“ Now, don’t you for-
get, should a fire break out, the first thing to be
saved is the bread; for then a person doesn’t lose
his presence of mind.”

«“ But the lightning won’t strike,” objected the
servants,

This answer she did not like at all. ‘“ Only God,
who is omnipotent, knows that. What do you
know about it? Besides one never loses anything
by being careful.”

When all was in order, she knelt before the
crucifix and prayed. This ‘done, she blessed her-
self and Barunka with holy water, placed the
rosary under her pillow, and commending herself
to God’s care fell asleep.
CHAPTER III.

HOULD a traveler, accustomed to the busy hum
of city life, wander into the vale where stands
the isolated house of the Proshek family, he would
think: “How can these people live here during
the whole year? During the summer, when the
roses are in bloom, it may be pleasant enough; but
how dreary it must be in the winter!” Yet the
family had many pleasures, both in summer and
winter. Love and content dwelt under that hum-
ble roof, and the only sorrows that visited them
were the frequent departures of the father, or the
illness of some member of the family.

The house was not large but pretty and cosy.
The front part was ornamented with a grape vine,
and the garden was full of vegetables, roses, and
mignonette. On the north-eastern side was an
orchard, and beyond that a meadow stretching out
clear to the mill. Close to the house stood a large
pear tree, whose branches spread themselves over
the shingled roof, beneath the eaves of which the
swallows built their nests. In the middle of the
large yard stood the linden, where the children used
to sit in the summer evenings. On the south-east-
ern side were the stables, sheds, and other out-
buildings, and behind them grew shrubbery clear
to the dam.

Two roads went past the house: one a wagon

road, by which a person could travel up the river
AB
THE GRANDMOTHER. 39

to Riesenburg castle, and thence to Red Hura; the
other led to the mill and along the river to the
nearest village, a short hour’s distance. That river
is the wild Upa, that flows from the Riesenburg
mountains, plunging over rocks and rapids, and
wandering about through narrow valleys, till it
reaches the level plain, where without any further
hindrance it flows into the Elbe.

Its banks are always green, in places precipitous,
and often covered with dense shrubbery.

In front of the garden there was a stream of
water, across which there was a foot bridge leading
to the oven and the drying house. Inthe fall, when
the drying house was full of prunes, apples, and
pears, Johnny and Willie were often seen running
across the bridge; they were always on the lookout
lest Grandmother should see them. That, however,
helped them little; for as soon as she entered the
drying house, she knew how many prunes were
missing. “ Johnny, Willie, come here!” she called,
“it seems you have been taking some of my
prunes?” « Oh,no!” protested the boys, while the
tell-tale color mounted to their faces. ‘Don’t tell
any falsehoods; don’t you know God hears you!”
They remained silent and she knew all. The chil-
dren wondered how she found out everything, and
how she could tell by their noses whether they
spoke the truth. They were afraid to deceive her.

When the weather was warm, she took the chil-
dren to the river to bathe; but she never allowed
them to go in deeper than their knees, lest they
should be carried away by the force of the current
and drowned. Sometimes she sat down with them
onthe bench from which the servants rinsed the
40 THE GRANDMOTHER.

clothes, and allowed them to paddle their feet in the
water, and play with the little fishes that darted
about in the stream. Dark leaved alders and wil-
lows bent down over the water, and the children
were fond of breaking off twigs, throwing them
into the water, and watching them as they floated
farther and farther down the river.

“You must throw the twig well into the cur-
rent, for if it remains near the bank, its progress
will be hindered by every herb and every root,” said
Grandmother.

Barunka broke off a twig and threw it into the
middle of the stream; when she saw that it floated
in' the middle of the current, she asked:

“ How will it be, Grandma, when it comes to
the lock? can it go any further then?”

“It.can,” replied John. “ Don’t you remember
how, the other day, I threw one into the water at
the very lock; it turned and turned, and all at once
it was under the lock and floated under the trunk,
and before I passed the mill-room, it was in the
stream and floated down the river.”

“ And where does it go then?” asked Bar-
unka.

“From the mill it floats to Zlitz bridge, from
the bridge to the channel, from the channel
down across the dam around Bavirsky hill to the
brewery. Below the rocks it will press its way
across rough stones beyond the school - house, where
you will go next year. From the school - house
it goes to the large bridge thence to Zvoli, from
Zvoli to Jarmirn and then to the Elbe.”

“ And where will it go then, Grandma?” again
asked the little girl.
THE GRANDMOTHER, 41

“It will float far down the Elbe until it reaches
the sea.”

“© Oh, dear, that sea! Where is it and what is it
like?”

“ Oh, the sea is wide, and far away, a hundred
times as far as from here to town,” answered
Grandmother.

“ And what will happen to my twig?” sadly
asked the child.

“It will be rocked upon the waves, till they cast
it ashore; many people and children will be walk-
ing there, and some little boy will pick it up and
say: ‘Little twig, whence came you, and who cast
you into the water? Probably some little girl
sitting near the river broke you off, and sent you
afloat.” The boy will take the twig home and plant it
in his garden. It will grow into a handsome tree,
birds will sing in its branches, and it will rejoice.”

Barunka heaved a deep sigh. In her interest in
Grandmother’s story she had forgotten all about
her petticoats; they dropped down into the water
and had to be wrung out. Just then the game-
keeper came along and seeing her plight laughed at
her, calling her a waterman. She shook her head
and said: “ There is no waterman.”

Whenever the gamekeeper passed by, Grand-
mother called: “ Stop in, sir, stop in; our folks are
at home.” The boys ran, seized him by both
hands, and led him to the house. Sometimes he
objected, saying that his pheasants were hatching,
that he had to see to them, or that he had some
other business on hand; but when Mr. and Mrs.
Proshek happened to see him, willing or unwilling
he was obliged to come in.
42 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Mr. Proshek always had a glass of good wine
for any welcome guest, and the gamekeeper
belonged to that number. Grandmother brought
some bread and salt and whatever else they had,
and during the conversation he forgot that his
pheasants were hatching. When he recollected
himself, he cursed his thoughtlessness, and seizing
his gun hastened away. In the yard he missed his
dog. “Hector! Hector!” but no Hector appeared.
“Where in the deuce is that brute racing?” he
scolded. The boys ran out, saying that they would
fetch him, that he was somewhere with Sultan and
Tyrol.

The gamekeeper sat down upon the bench
under the linden to wait until the boys brought his
dog. Then he started, but stopped once more and
called to Grandmother: “Come up our way, my
wife is saving some guinea eggs for you.” He
knew well the weak points of housewives.
Grandmother assented at once. “ Give your wife
my regards and tell her we will come.” Thus
they always took leave of each other with some
pleasant word.

The gamekeeper used to go, if not every day,
certainly every other day past The Old Bleachery.
This he did year in and year out.

The other person that one would see every
morning at about ten o’clock, on the walk leading
to Proshek’s house, was the miller. That was his
hour to see about the locks. Grandmother used to
say that the miller was a good man, but somewhat
of arogue. This was because he was very fond of
teasing and cracking jokes at the expense of others.
He never laughed himself, but his face was drawn
THE GRANDMOTHER. 43

out into a mischievous grin. His eyes from
beneath his pendent eyebrows looked cheerily into
the world. He was of medium height and thick-
set. He wore light-gray trousers the whole year
round, at which the children marveled greatly,
until one day he told them it was the miller’s color.
In the winter, he wore a long cloak and heavy
boots; in the summer, a grayish blue jacket and
slippers. On week days, he wore a low cap
trimmed with fleece. In rain or shine his trousers
were turned up, and he was never seen without his
snuff box. As soon as he was in sight, the children
ran to meet him and went with him to the lock.
On the way he teased the boys. Sometimes he
asked Johnny if he could reckon how much a penny
roll would cost, when wheat was two Rhine dollars
a bushel. When the boy answered correctly, he
would say: “You're a trump! Why, they could
appoint you squire to Kramolna!”* He would
give the boys snuff, and when they sneezed hard,
he smiled grimly. Whenever the miller came,
Adelka hid behind Grandma’s petticoats; she
could not yet speak plainly, and he teased her by
asking her to repeat after him quickly, three times
in succession, “ Our gable is of all gables the most
gabley.” The poor little girl almost cried when she
could not say it. To make up for this, he would
bring her, sometimes a basket of strawberries,
sometimes almonds, or other delicacies, and when
he wished to flatter her, he called her “little
linet.”

Another person who used to go regularly past
The Old Bleachery was Long Moses, the watch-

* A small hamlet that never hada squire or justice.
44 THE GRANDMOTHER.

man from the castle. He was tall and slender like
a pole, with dark sinister looks, and was wont
to carry a bag upon his shoulders. Betsy, the
housemaid, told the children that he carried disobe-
dient boys in that bag, and from that moment,
whenever Long Moses made his appearance, they
turned crimson and were as still as mice. Grand-
mother was angry and forbade the girl to tell any
more such stories; but when Vorsa, the other ser-
vant, said that Moses was a grabber, that every-
thing that he could reach clung to his fingers,
Grandmother did not say anything to that. Indeed,
he must have been a bad man, that Moses, and to
the children he remained terrible, even if they no
longer believed that he carried children in the bag.

In the summer, when the nobility lived in the
castle, the children often saw some beautiful prin-
cess on horseback, with several lords following in
her train. The miller seeing this once remarked to
Grandmother: “It appears to me like the whip of
God (a comet) dragging its tail behind.”

“ With this difference, my dear miller: the whip
of God announces evil to the world; the nobility,
when they show themselves, bring us profit,” re-
plied Grandmother. The miller turned his snuff
box, smiled grimly, but made no reply.

Christina, the innkeeper’s daughter, frequently
came over in the evening to visit Grandmother and
the children. She was as pretty as a pink, spry as
a squirrel, and happy asa lark. Grandmother called
her Smila, because her face was always radiant
with smiles,

Christina came on arun, just for a word; the
gamekeeper stopped in; the miller came for a mo-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 45

ment; the miller’s wife, when once in a great while
she undertook to come to The Old Bleachery,
brought her spinning; the gamekeeper’s wife gen-
erally brought her baby; but when the stewardess
from the manor honored the Proshek house with
her presence, Mrs. Proshek would say: “ To-day
we shall have company.”

On such occasions, Grandmother took the chil-
dren and went away; she had not the heart to dis-
like anyone; but this lady was not agreeable to her,
because she held her head higher than her station
warranted. One day, when Grandmother had been
but a short time at her daughter’s and was unac-
quainted with the customs of the family and those
of the neighbors, the stewardess, with two other
ladies, came to make acall. Mrs. Proshek hap-
pened to be out, and Grandmother, according to her
custom, after asking the ladies to be seated brought
bread and salt and invited her distinguished guests
to partake of her hospitality; but the distinguished
guests politely informed her that they were not
hungry, and then gave each other a significant
glance, as much as to say: “ You old-fashioned
granny, do you think we are only so, so?” As
soon as Mrs. Proshek entered the room, she saw
that a mistake had been made; and when the ladies
were gone, she told her mother never to offer bread
and salt to such people, as it was not the custom
among them.

« Theresa,” spoke up Grandmother quite put
out, “ who will not accept bread and salt from me
is not worthy to cross my threshold; you yourself
may do as you please, but do not come to me with
any of your new fangled notions.”
46 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Among the annual visitors that came to the Old
Bleachery, the peddler Vlach was one of the most
welcome. He came witha one horse wagon, which
was loaded with delicacies: such as almonds, rais-
ins, figs, perfumeries, oranges and lemons, and
toilet soaps. Mr. Proshek bought up a large sup-
ply both in the fall and in the spring, and for this
reason the peddler always gave the children a pack-
age of candy. This pleased Grandmother, who
would say: “ He is a clever man, this Vlach; still, I
don’t like his haggling ways of bargaining.” She
preferred to trade with the medicine vender, who
also came twice a year. She always bought a bot-
tle of Jerusalem balsam for wounds, and added to
the price a large slice of bread.

She always had a hearty welcome for the wire
drawer and the Jew peddler. They were the same
ones each year, so that they seemed to belong to
the family. But when the Gypsies appeared near
the village, she was alarmed and quickly took some
food and carried it out to them; for she said: “ It
is for one’s own advantage to see them clear to the
cross roads.”

The most welcome visitor, both to the children
and to the rest of the family, was Mr. Beyer, the
gamekeeper of Marshendorf, from the Sudetic
mountains. He came every year as the overseer of
the wood that was floated down the Upa river.
Mr. Beyer was tall and slender, his body being
composed apparently of bone and muscle only. He
had a long face, a sallow complexion, large, bright
eyes, a Roman nose, brown hair, and a long mus-
tache which he was in the habit of stroking. The
gamekeeper of Riesenburg was thick -set, with a
THE GRANDMOTHER. 47

florid complexion, a short mustache, and hair al-
ways in order; Mr. Beyer’s hair was parted in the
middle and hung down below his coat collar. The
children noticed this at once. The gamekeeper of
Riesenburg walked with an easy gait, Mr. Beyer,
as though he were stepping over precipices. The
former never wore such heavy boots as the latter,
and his gun straps and munition bag were finer and
newer than Mr. Beyer’s. In his cap he wore blue
jay’s feathers, while Mr. Beyer’s green felt hat was
decorated with feathers of kites, hawks, and eagles.

Thus looked Mr. Beyer; but the children liked
him as soon as they saw him, and Grandmother de-
clared that children and dogs never made any mis-
takes as to who were their friends; and she was
right. Mr. Beyer was very fond of children.
Johnny was his pet,— naughty Johnny, who was
generally called ascamp; but Mr. Beyer said he
would make a good, sturdy youth, and that should
he take a fancy to forestry, he himself would under-
take to instruct him. The gamekeeper of Riesen-
burg, who usually came to The Old Bleachery to
see his brother of the mountains, would say: “In-
deed, if he should wish to be a gamekeeper I my-
self would take him; for very likely my Frankie
will be one, too.” But Mr. Beyer objected to this;
he said: “ Brother, this would not do at all; here he
would be too near his home; and, besides, it is al-
ways well for a young man to learn the difficulties
of his calling. You foresters and gamekeepers
here below have an easy time; you don’t know
what hardship is.” Here he began to depict the
hardships of his lot. He spoke of great storms of
wind and snow in the winter time, of dangerous
48 THE GRANDMOTHER.

paths, of precipices, of tremendous snow drifts and
fogs. He related how he had been many a time
in danger of losing his life, when his foot slipped
upon some precipitous path; how many times he
had lost his way and wandered about for two or
three days without a mouthful of anything to eat,
not knowing how to find his way out of the laby-
rinth, “On the other hand,” he added, “ you
dwellers in the lowlands have no idea how beauti-
ful it is in the mountains, in the summer. As soon
as the snow melts. the valleys become green, the
flowers burst into bloom, the woods are full of song
and fragrance, and all seems as if an enchan-
ter’s wand had passed over it. Then it is a pleas-
ure and a delight to wander about in the woods for
game. Twice a week I ascend the Snowcap
(Snezka), where I see the sun rise and this God’s
world spread out before me in a grand panorama;
and forgetting all my hardships I think, after all, I
would not remove from the mountains.”

Mr. Beyer often brought the children stones of
various crystalline forms, and told them about the
caves in the mountains where such specimens were
found; he brought them moss as fragrant as violets;
he loved to describe to them the beauties of Ryber-
col’s garden, into which he had wandered once,
when he was lost during a fearful snow storm.

As long as Mr. Beyer was with them, the boys
did not leave his side. They went with him to the
dam, watched the floating of the logs, and took a
ride upon the raft. When he was getting ready to
leave, they could scarcely restrain their tears; and
with Grandmother they accompanied him part of
the way, helping to carry the generous luncheon
THE GRANDMOTHER. 49

with which Mrs. Proshek provided him. “ Next
year, God willing, we shall see each other again.
Farewell!” Thus they parted, each wending his
way homeward. For several days nothing else
was spoken of but Mr. Beyer, the wonders and ter-
rors of the Riesengebirge, and the happy time
when he would come again.
CHAPTER IV.

ESIDES the holidays, Sundays were looked
forward to with great pleasure; for then the
children could lie abed as long as they pleased, Grand-
mother, who called them, being at the village at
early mass. Mrs. Proshek, and her husband when
he was with them, attended high mass; and when
the weather was fine, the children went with them
to meet Grandmother. As soon as she was in sight,
they ran to meet her and shouted as though they
had not seen her for a year. On Sundays she did
not appear to them the same as on week days. Her
face was brighter and more loving, and she was
dressed a great deal better. She wore fine black
slippers, a white cap of which the stiffly starched
strings were tied behind in a bow resembling the
wings of a dove; indeed, it seemed as though a
dove sat on the back of her head. The children
remarked that on Sundays Grandma was very
beautiful.

As soon as they met her, each wanted to carry
something. One got the rosary, another her hand-
kerchief; and Barunka, being the eldest, carried the
handbag. This, however, gave rise to disputes, for
the inquisitive boys wanted to see what was in it,
which Barunka would by no means allow. It al-
ways ended in a quarrel, when Barunka turned to
Grandmother, asking her to give the boys a good
scolding. Instead of this, she opened the bag

50
THE GRANDMOTHER. 51

and gave them some apples or some other dainty,
and good humor was at once restored. Mrs.
Proshek would sometimes say: “ Mother, why do
you always bring them something?” but she re-
plied: “ Indeed, that would be strange, if I brought
them nothing from church! We were no better.”
Thus the old custom was kept up.

Grandmother was usually accompanied by the
miller’s wife, and sometimes by some gossip from
Zernov, the village nearest the mill. The miller’s
wife wore long petticoats, a basque, and a silver
cap (a cap heavily embroidered with silver thread ) ;
she was a short, buxom woman, with pleasant black
eyes, a short flat nose, smiling lips, and a pretty
double chin. Sundays, she wore small pearls
around her neck; on week days, garnets. She al-

ways carr ied a long, round basket of wicker work, .

in which she had such spices and herbs as are
usually used by good housewives.

A short distance behind the women was seen the
miller with some friend. When it was warm, he
carried his light gray coat on his cane over his
shoulder. On Sundays his boots were blacked clear
to his ankles and ornamented at the top with a tas-
sal, which the children greatly admired. His trou-
sers were tucked into his boots, and on his head he
wore a high cap of lamb’s fleece, one side of which
was adorned with a row of bows made of blue rib-
bon. The other neighbor was dressed in the same
way, except that the long coat with deep folds be-
hind and large lead buttons was green instead of
gray, the miller’s favorite color.

The people going to high mass welcomed them
as they came from divine service, and they returned
52 THE GRANDMOTHER.

their salutations. Sometimes they stopped to in-
quire how this and that neighbor was, what
had happened at the village, and what at the
mill.

In the winter, one rarely met any of the Zernov
people going to the town church, for the path on
the mountain side was steep and dangerous. They
went then to Studnic or to Red Hura, to either of
which places the path was more passable. In the
summer one did not mind the bad road; this was
the case especially with the young people. On
Sunday morning, the path across the meadows to
the town was never empty. Here, one could see
an old lady in a fur lined cloak, with a kerchief
upon her head, and beside her an old man leaning
upon his staff; one could see that he was old, for
his hair was fastened down with a comb, a custom
kept up by very old men. There, one could see
women in white dove-caps, and men with fleece-
lined jackets, hurrying across the foot bridge to the
valley to overtake the others. From the hill above
could be seen maidens frolicking about like fawns,
and behind them young men like deer. Here, a
white, puffed sleeve glances between the trees, then
the bushes catch a floating streamer from the shoul-
der of some maiden, and then again one sees the
bright colors of the embroidered jacket of some
youth, till at last the whole happy company finds
itself on the green plain below.

Coming home, Grandmother changed her
clothes and then hurried about the house to see if
anything had been neglected during her absence.
After dinner, she lay down to rest a few moments.
She usually fell asleep, and when she awoke she
THE GRANDMOTHER, 53

wondered how it happened ‘hat her eyes closed ere
she was aware of it.

In the afternoon she usually took the children
to the mill, and that half day seemed to them a
great holiday. The miller had a daughter of the
same age as Barunka; her name was Mary, but she
was always called Manchinka. She was a good,
playful child.

In front of the mill, between two lindens, was a
statue of St. John of Nepomuk, and there the mil-
ler’s wife, Manchinka, and the Zernov women usu-
ally sat on Sunday afternoon. The miller gen-
erally stood before them, telling them some news
while he turned his snuff box in his fingers. As
soon as Grandmother and the children were seen
coming, Manchinka ran to meet them, and the mil-
ler slowly followed with the women. ' The miller’s
wife, however, turned to the house to get some-
thing ready for those dear little ones, “so that they
will behave,” as she said. Before they reached
the house, a table was already prepared for them
either under the windows in the orchard or on the
little island. They had a generous supply of buns
and honey, bread and butter, and cream. In the
summer the miller generally brought a basket of
fruit, but in the winter they had dried apples and
prunes. Coffee and similar beverages were not
yet in common use; in the whole neighborhood
only the Prosheks drank coffee.

“ How good of you to come tosee us,” said the
miller’s wife, offering a chair to Grandmother.
“ Why, if you did not come it would not seem like
Sunday; and now accept of the bounty that God
has given.”
54 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Grandmother, who ate but little herself, begged
her hostess not to trouble herself so much, at
which the good lady only laughed. “ You are old,
and it is no wonder you eat so little; but children —
oh, heavens! they have stomachs like ducks. Just
look at our Manchinka! I never knew the time
when she was not hungry.” The children’s smil-
ing faces confessed that she was right.

When the children got another bun apiece they
hastened behind the barn, for when they were there,
no one worried about them. There they played
ball, horses, colors, and similar games. The same
company waited for them each Sunday,— six chil-
dren, of different sizes, like the pipes of an organ.
They were the children of the organ grinder from
the flax mill. When he moved there with his fam-
ily, the inn keeper built them a cottage having one
living room and a kitchen. The father went about
with his hand organ, and the mother after finishing
her own work went among the neighbors, doing
chores for a little food. They had nothing in the
world but those six “ pandores”’—as the miller
called the organ grinder’s children— and some
music. For all that, no great want was seen in the
family. The children’s cheeks were like roses, and
at times an odor came from the flax mill that made
the mouth of the passer-by water and long for roast
chicken. When the children came out with greasy
and shiny lips, the neighbors thought: “What in
the world are those Kudernas roasting? ”

Once Manchinka came from the flax mill and
told her mother that Mrs. Kuderna had given her
a piece of hare, and that it was so good, “ just like
almonds.”
THE GRANDMOTHER. 55

“ A hare!” thought the mother, “where would
they get a hare? J hope Kuderna hasn’t taken to
poaching; he’d get himself into trouble if he did.”

When Celia, Kuderna’s eldest daughter, came
over with the baby —that girl always carried a
baby, for a little one came to the flax mill each
year —the miller’s wife asked her: “ Cilka,'what
did you have good for dinner, to - day?”

“Oh nothing, only potatoes,” replied the girl.

«“ What! nothing but potatoes? Manchinka said
your mother gave her a piece of hare, and that it
was very good.”

“ O, I beg you to excuse me, that wasn’t a hare,
that was a cat; Daddy got it at Red Hura; it was
fat like a pig. Mammy fried out the grease, and
Daddy will rub himself with it; the blacksmith’s
wife told him to do it when he began to cough, so -
he should not get consumption.”

«“ God save our souls!” exclaimed the horrified
woman, spitting with disgust.

“ Oh, but you don’t know how good they are!
but squirrels are better still. One day Daddy met
the forester’s apprentice carrying three squirrels
which he had shot for his owl; he asked him for
them, because he had heard that their flesh- was
better than that of hares, since they live on nothing
but hazel nuts. The apprentice said it was so, and
gave them to him. Daddy took them home and
skinned them. Mammy roasted them and cooked
some potatoes, and we had a very good dinner.
Sometimes Dad brings us crows, but they are not
very good. But not long ago we had a feast!
Mammy brought a goose from the manor. The
girl killed it in stuffing it with meal rolls to fatten
56 THE GRANDMOTHER.

it, and the lady would not eat it; so they gave it to
us, and we had meat for several days and lard for
a long time.” Here the girl’s story wasinterrupted
by the miller’s wife, who said: “Go, Go, I feel
the cold chills creeping over me. Mary, you god-
less, child, don’t you ever dare eat meat at Kuder-
na’s again! Go quickly and wash yourself, and
don’t touch anything.” Going on like this, she
pushed Celia out of doors.

Manchinka cried, and assured her mother that
the hare was good; the mother said nothing more,
but showed her disgust by spitting. The miller
came, and hearing what had happened turned his
snuff box and said: “ Well wife, what are you
scowling for? who knows on what the girl may
thrive! Tastes differ; I don’t know but I should
like to invite myself to Kuderna’s for a good squir-
rel dinner.”

“ You’d better keep such stuff to yourself!”
scolded the wife. The miller closed his eyes, and
a mischievous smile played about his lips.

Not only the miller’s wife, but other people also
had a feeling of repulsion toward the Kudernas,
and all because they ate cats and squirrels, which
nobody else ate. But to the Proshek children it
was all the same whether their friends from the flax
mill had crow pie or pheasants for dinner, if only
they came to play with them behind the barn; and
they willingly shared with them their food, glad to
see them happy. Celia, who was ten years old and
had the care of the baby, placed a bun in its chubby
fists, laid it down in the grass, and went to play
with the rest; or she sat down and braided from
plaintain stalks little caps for the boys and baskets
THE GRANDMOTHER. 57

for the girls. When they had played till they were
tired, the whole company rushed into the yard, and
Manchinka announced to the mother that they were
very hungry. The mother was not at all surprised
at this news, and fed them all, even those whose
lips were repulsive to her on account of the squir-
rels. The miller, however, always teased her, and
when the children came in he began: “I don’t
know what is the matter, I feel a:pressure upon
my breast. How is it, Celia, haven’t you a piece
of hare at your house? Couldn’t you ”

His wife coughed and went away. Grand-
mother shook her finger at him saying: “ What a
rogue you are, sir! if I were your wife, I would
give you roast crow with peas.” The miller turned
his snuff box, closed his eyes, and smiled grimly.

When they sat in the garden, the foreman of the
mill usually joined their party. They discussed the
morning’s sermon, told what the announcements had
been, for whom prayers had been said, and whom
each one had seen at church; from this their con-
versation drifted to the crops, the flood, storms and
hail, weaving and bleaching linen, how the flax was
this year, till at last they came to discuss soldiers
and the prison. The foreman was very talkative,
but towards evening as the farmers began to come
in with the grist, remembering the rule, “first come
first served,” he was obliged to goto the mill, while
the miller went to see what was doing at the inn.

In the winter, the children spent the whole
afternoon on top of the large oven that was built in
the corner of the room.* The servant had her bed

 

* In all country houses, in Bohemia, there is a large brick structure
in one corner of the living room, which is a stove and oven combined.
55 THE GRANDMOTHER.

there, and Manchinka, her dolls and playthings.
When the children were all together, the oven was
full, the niche in the corner that served as a step
being occupied by the dog. On the top of that
oven a wedding was celebrated every Sunday. The
chimney sweep was the groom, and Nicholas served
as the priest. Then there was eating, drinking,
and dancing, until somebody stepped on the dog’s
tail. The dog yelped and the conversation in the
room was interrupted. The mistress of the house
cried: “See here, you youngsters, don’t you break
down that oven for I must bake to-morrow!” But
they were already as still as mice. Then they
played “Father and Mother.” The stork brought
a baby to the young bride. Adelka was the nurse,
Johnny and Willie, the sponsors, and the baby was
named Jack. Now they had the christening festi-
val; all sorts of wonderful dishes were served, and
this time the dog, too, was a guest, so’that they
might make up with him. Jack grew up and his
father led him to school. Johnny was the school-
master and taught him to spell. But one pupil! —
that wouldn’t do; they all had to study, and there-
fore they agreed to play school. As no one brought
the prescribed task, the master got angry and or-
dered each to receive two blows upon the hand.
Seeing no help, they submitted; but the dog, who
also was a pupil, and didn’t know anything at all
except to snuff at things, was to receive in addition
to the two blows adunce card upon his neck, which
was done at once. But as soon as the card was
fastened, the offended brute jumped down from the
oven with a great noise and rolled about the floor,
trying to rid himself of the sign of shame. The
THE GRANDMOTHER. 59

foreman sprang from his bench, Grandmother
almost screamed from fright, and the miller, shak-
ing his snuff box at the children, exclaimed: “By
Gemini! let me come there, I’ll—” and turning his
box he smiled, but not so that the children could
see him.

“ That reprobate of ours surely was to blame!”
said Grandmother. “J must take them home be-
fore the whole house is torn down!”

This, however, the miller’s wife would not al-
low; they had not finished their conversation about
the French war and those three potentates. Grand-
mother knew them all; she had had great experi-
ences, she understood army life,—-every one be-
lieved her.

“ Grandmother, who were those three ice war-
riors that the Russian sent against Bonaparte?”
asked a handsome youth with a pleasant face.

“ IT should think you could guess that,” quickly
replied the foreman. “ They were the three months,
December, January, and February. In Russia, it
is so cold that people are obliged to wear some
covering over their faces to keep their noses from
freezing off. The French soldiers, not being ac-
customed to this cold, froze to death as soon as they
came. The Czar, knowing this, drew them on
into the country, until they could not return. Oh,
he is a crafty one, that Czar!”

« Grandmother,” asked another,” you knew the
Emperor Joseph personally, did you not?”

«“ Of course I did! Why I spoke with him, and
he gave me this dollar with his own hand,” she
replied as she showed them the dollar that hung on
the string of garnets around her neck.
60 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ And may we ask how it happened, and when?”
asked several of the bystanders at once.

Just at this point there was a lull in the noise
upon the oven, for the children hearing this ques-
tion were at once attentive, and jumping down
begged Grandmother to relate this story, as they
had never heard it.

« But both the miller and his wife have heard
it,” objected Grandmother.

" “ A good story will bear repeating,” said the
miller, “‘ so just go on.”

“Well, then, I will begin; but you children
must be perfectly quiet.”

The children obeyed, and did not lisp another
syllable.

Grandmother began as follows:—

“ When the Novy Ples (Joseph - hof) was build-
ing, I was a young girl. I come from Olesnic,—
do you know where Olesnic is?”

“TI do,” said the foreman, “it is in the moun-
tains, beyond Dobruska, on the Silesian frontier, is
it not?”

“Yes, it is there. Not far from our house was
a cottage, where dwelt the widow Novotny. She
made her living by weaving woolen blankets.
Whenever she had a good supply on hand, she took
them to Jarmirn or Pilsen to sell. She used to be
at our house a great deal, and we children would
run to hercottage several timesa day. Father was
sponsor to her son. As soon as I was able to do
any hard work, she would say to me, when I came
over: ‘Come, sit down at the loom and learn to
weave; some day it may be of use to you. What
one learns in youth may serve one in old age.’ I
THE GRANDMOTHER. 61

was always eager to work, so did not need to be
told twice. I soon understood the trade so well
that I could weave a whole blanket without assist-
ance. At that time, the Emperor used to come
quite often to see the new city,and he was the con-
stant topic of conversation withthe villagers. Who-
ever had the opportunity of seeing him felt greatly
honored.

“On one occasion, when the widow was going
to town, I asked mother if I could go with her, as
I wanted to see the Novy Ples, too. As she was
to have a heavy load, mother readily consented,
saying: ‘Yes, go; you can help her carry the
blankets.” The next day we started in the cool of
the day, and before noon were in the meadow be-
fore the Ples. There we sat down upon a pile of
timber and began to put on ourshoes. The widow
said: ‘ Alas! where shall I go tosell my blankets?’
Just then we saw a gentleman coming from the
Ples directly toward us. He carried something in
his hand resembling a flute; from time to time he
put it up to his face and turned round and round.

“<«O look!’ I said to the widow. ‘That must
be some musician; he is playing on a flute and danc-
ing to his own music.’

«“¢ You foolish girl, that is not a flute and he is
no musician. Most likely that is some gentleman
whose business it is to oversee the building; I often
see them walking about here. He has a sort of
tube, in that tube a glass, and he looks through
that. They say he can see a great ways, and every-
where, and whom and what he wants.’

«“¢Oh, Mrs. Novotny, if he saw us when we
were putting on our shoes!’ I said.
62 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“© ¢ Well, and what if he did? That isn’t any-
thing to be ashamed of,’ she replied.

“While we were thus talking, the gentleman
reached our side. He had on a gray coat and a
three cornered hat, beneath which was his cue with
a bow at the end. He was quite young and hand-
some as a picture. ‘Where are you going and what
have you there?’ he asked, as he stopped near us.
The widow said she was taking her work to sell at
Ples.

«“ ¢ What kind of work?’ he further asked.

“¢ Woolen blankets, sir; they make good cover-
lets for soldiers; perhaps you might like one,’ said
she, quickly opening her bundle and spreading out
the blankets one by one. She was a good woman,
this widow, but when she tried to sell anything she
was extremely talkative.

“¢ Your husband makes these, does he not?’
asked the gentleman.

«¢ He used to make them, dear sir: but at harvest
time it will be two years since he made his last
blanket. While he worked, I sometimes helped
and so learned the trade, and now I find it very
profitable. I always tell Mandie: ‘Only learn,
Mandie; what you once learn, not evena gendarme
can take away from you.’

“¢Ts she your daughter?’ again asked the gentle-
man,

“¢ No, she is not mine, but our sponsor’s child.

-Do not think she is too small; she is stout and will-
ing to work. She made this blanket all herself.’
He tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a look
of approbation. In all my life I never saw such
beautiful eyes; they were as blue as the corn flower,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 63

«©¢ And you have no children?’ said he, turning
to her.

‘I have one son,’ she replied. I send him to
school to Rychnov. The Lord gives him the gift
of the Holy Ghost, so that learning is to him as
play; he sings wellinthe choir. I’m trying to save
a few groschen, so that I can send him to study for
the priesthood.’

«“« But suppose he refuses to be a priest?’

“¢O sir, he will not refuse; George is a good lad,’
replied the widow.

“ In the meantime I had been looking at the tube
and wondering how he looked through it. He
must have noticed this, for all at once he turned to
me and said: ‘I suppose you would like to know
how one looks through this telescope, is it not so?’
I blushed, but dared not look at him. The widow
Novotny spoke up: ‘ Mandie thought that that was
a flute, and that you were a musician. But I told
her what you were.’

“¢ And you know it?’ he asked smiling.

«“« Well Ido not know your name; but of course
you are one of the men that come here to oversee
the workmen, and you look at them through that
tube, is it not so?’

«“ The gentleman laughed till he held his sides.
Then he said: ‘The last, mother, is correct.’
Then he turned to me and said: ‘If you wish to
look through this tube you may do so.’ Then he
placed it to my eye, and Oh, dear people, what
wonders did I see! Why, I saw into people’s win-
dows, and could see what they were doing as if
they were close by; and way off in the fields I saw
people working as if they were but a few steps
64 THE GRANDMOTHER.

from me. I wanted the widow to look, too; but
she declared it was not proper for an old woman to
play with such things.

“¢ But that is not for play, that is for use,’ said
the gentleman.

«“¢ Well, perhaps it is, but it is not for me,’ and
she could not be induced to look through it. Then
I thought that I would be so glad to see the Em-
peror Joseph, and because the gentleman was so
kind, I told him whom Id like to see.

«¢ What do you care about the Emperor?’ he
asked, ‘ Do you like him?’

“©¢ Of course Ido; why shouldn’t I like him, when
everybody speaks well of him and praises his good-
ness. Every day we ask God to bless him and his
wife, and grant them a long reign.’

“« He smiled and asked: ‘ Would you like to speak
with him, too?’

“¢ God forbid! where would I turn my eyes?’ I
replied.

«“¢ Why, you are not afraid to look at me, and the
Emperor is only such a man as I?’

«<Q, sir, it is not the same,’ spoke up Mrs. No-
votny. ‘His Lordship the Emperor is after all his
Lordship, and that is something to say. I have
heard that when a person looks the Emperor in the
eye, he is seized with fever and ague. Our alder-
man spoke with him twice, and he says it is so.’

“¢ Very likely your alderman has a guilty con-
science and cannot look any one in the eye,’ he re-
plied and at the same time wrote something upon
aslip of paper. He handed it to Mrs. Novotny,
telling her to go to the Ples, to the provision house,
where she would sell her blankets and get her pay
THE GRANDMOTHER. 65

when she showed them that paper; then turning to
me he gave me this silver dollar, andsaid: ‘Take
this as a keepsake from the Emperor Joseph. Do
not forget to pray for him and his wife, for prayers
coming from earnest hearts are acceptable to God.
When you get home, tell your friends you spoke
with the Emperor Joseph.’ With these words he
turned and hastened away.

“ Overwhelmed with joy and surprise we knelt
down, not knowing what we did. Mrs. Novotny
scolded me because I had been so forward, but she
also had been bold enough. But who would have
thought that it was the Emperor! We comforted
ourselves, however, by thinking that if he had been
offended he would not have made us presents.

“When Mrs. Novotny came to the magazine
she got three times as much for her blankets as
she asked.

“ We almost flew home, and when we got there,
there was no end of telling about it, and everybody |
envied us. Mother had a hole punched through °
the dollar, and I have worn it on my neck ever
since. Many a time I have been in need, but I
would never part with my dollar. A thousand
pities that the sod covers that good man!” added
Grandmother softly, as she finished the story.

“ Yes, indeed, a thousand pities!” echoed the
listeners. The children, after learning the history
of the dollar, turned it from side to side, for now it
had acquired a new interest to them, and Grand-
mother, because she had spoken to the Emperor,
was regarded with even more reverence than be-
fore.

At the mill the week began on Sunday evening,

5
66 THE GRANDMOTHER.

for then the peasants came in with their grist.
The rumbling of the wheels was heard; the fore-
man went about the mill room, examining all
with a practiced eye; the workmen hurried from
basket to basket, upstairs and downstairs; while the
miller stood at the door welcoming his customers
with a pleasant smile, and offering each a pinch of
snuff.

In the summer, the miller’s wife and Manchinka
accompanied Grandmother over tothe inn. When
there was a dance there, they generally stopped at
the gate, where they were joined by several of the
women from the village, and all remained for a
while to watch the dancers. To enter was impos-
sible on account of the crowd standing at the door;
even Christina, when she took beer out to the gen-
tlemen sitting in the orchard, was obliged to hold
the glasses high over her head for fear they should
be knocked out of her hands.

“Do you see these gentlemen? ” said the miller’s
wife as she made a gesture with her head toward
the orchard, where sat several of the men from the
castle and tried to detain Christina whenever she
brought them beer,— “do you see them! Yes, in-
deed, that is a lass such as doesn’t grow upon every
bush. But do not imagine that the Lord had her
blossom out for such as you, that you might ruin
her beautiful life.”

“ No danger!” said Grandmother, “ Christina is
too sharp for them. She knows how to dispose of
them at short notice.”

Grandmother was right. Just then one of those
gentlemen, perfumed so strongly that he could be
smelt ten yards off, whispered something in her
THE GRANDMOTHER. 67

ear; she laughed as she replied: “ Unload your
wares, sir, unload; we will not buy!” Then she
hastened into the dancing hall and with a smiling
face put her hand in the large, hard palm of a stal-
wart youth, who placed his other arm around her
waist and led her off to the dance, unmindful of the
call, “« Christinka, some more beer!”

« That one is dearer to her than the castle with
all its lords and treasures,” smiled Grandmother, as
she bade the miller’s wife good night, and then with
the children slowly wended her way homeward.

Once in a fortnight, or in three weeks, when
the weather was fine, Grandmother would say:
“ To-day we will go to the gamekeeper’s to spin.”
The children spoke of nothing else until they had
started on their journey. Behind the dam the way
led on the steep side to the bridge, beyond the
bridge clear to Riesenburg ; the path was shaded by
rows of tall poplars. Grandmother, however, pre-
ferred the way along the river to the mill. There
was a high hill above the saw - mill, where much
mullein grew, which Barunka was fond of gather-
ing for Grandmother. From the saw - mill the val-
ley grew narrower and narrower, until the river
was confined in a narrow trough, and flew quickly
over the large stones that obstructed its path. The
hills here were covered with evergreens, whose
dense foliage cast a dark shadow upon the valley
below. This was the path Grandmother took with
the children, until they reached Riesenburg fortress,
whose moss covered ruins projected above the dark
wood.

A short distance from the fortress, above an
underground passage, through which it was said
68 THE GRANDMOTHER.

one could go a journey of twelve miles, but into
which no one ever ventured on account of the damp
and foul air, was built an arbor having three gothic
windows. When the gentlemen from the castle
went out hunting, they stopped here to eat their
second breakfast. To this arbor the children
directed their steps, climbing up the steep banks
like chamois. Poor Grandmother got up the steep
place with the greatest difficulty, all out of breath
and catching hold of every shrub. “Oh, you’re too
much for me!” she exclaimed as she scrambled to
the top.

The children took her by both her arms and led
her into the arbor where they seated her in a chair.
The air here was cool, and the outlook beautiful.

To the right of the arbor, could be seen the
ruins of the fortress; below the fortress there was
a vale in the shape of a crescent, the top and bottom
of which were closed in by evergreens. On one
side of those hills there was a chapel. The mur-
muring of the water, and the song of the birds
were the only sounds heard in this solitary place.

John recollected the story of the strong Ctibor,
the shepherd of Riesenburg. It was down in the
meadow below that his master caught him carrying
a large tree upon his shoulders. When he was
asked where he had got it, he confessed that he had
stolen it from the forest. His master, pleased with
his candor, not only forgave him, but invited him
to come to the fortress, saying that he would give
him as much provision as he could carry, Ctibor
was so greedy that he took his wife’s nine ell
feather-bed cover and went to the fortress, where
they filled it with peas and hams. The knight
THE GRANDMOTHER. 69

liked him on account of his strength and frankness,
and when there was a tournament in Prague, he
took him along. Ctibor overcame a certain Ger-
man knight whom no one else could conquer, and
on that account was knighted by the king.

This tale delighted the children, and from the
time that the old shepherd related it, the fortress
and the meadow acquired a new interest for
them.

“What is the name of the place where that
chapel stands?” asked Willie.

“That is Bousin. If God grants us good
health, we will go there sometime when there is a
pilgrimage there,” replied grandmother.

“What happened there, Grandma?” asked
Adelka, who could listen to such stories from morn-
ing till night.

“A miracle was performed there; don’t you
remember how Vorsa related it? ”

“ We don’t remember at all. Please, Grandma,
tell us about it.”

« Well, then, sit down quietly upon the benches
and do not lean out of the windows lest you fall
and break your necks.” After thus admonishing
them, Grandmother began her story:

“Beyond this hill and these woods are the vil-
lages of Turyn, Litobor, Slatina, Mecov, and Bousin.
In olden times they all belonged to one knight named
Turynsky, who lived in Turyn castle. This knight
had a wife and one child, a pretty little girl, but
alas! deaf and dumb, which was a great grief to
her parents.

“Once as the little girl was wandering about in
the castle, she thought she would like to go to Bou-
7O THE GRANDMOTHER.

sin to see how the lambs were doing and how much
they had grown since last she saw them. You
must remember that at that time there was neither
village nor chapel here. There was only the farm
and the farm house where dwelt the steward and
such servants as were needed to do the work. All
around there was nothing but woods, in which
were many wild beasts.

“ Turynsky’s little daughter had often been to the
farm, but she had ridden with her father. Now
she thought, simpfe child: ‘I'll take a little run and
Pll be there.’ She followed her eyes, thinking one
way as good as another,—she was young and
ignorant like you. When, however, she had gone
a long time, and no farm was in sight, she began to
be alarmed; she thought: ‘What will my father
and mother say when they find out that I have left
the castle?’ She turned and hastened back toward
her home. When one is alarmed, especially such a
child, one becomes confused very easily. She lost
her way and went neither to the castle nor to the
farm, but into a dense forest where there was nei-
ther path nor light. Soon she knew that she was
lost.

“You can imagine how she felt. But you would
not be so badly off; for you can speak and hear,
which she could not. She ran hither and thither
and only grew the more bewildered. At last she
was very tired, hungry, and thirsty; but that was as
nothing compared with the fear that she had of the
night and the wild beasts that she knew would
prowl about; and, besides, she thought of the anxi-
ety of her father and mother.

“ Worn out with fright and weeping, all at once
THE GRANDMOTHER. WI

she found herself at a well. She knelt down
eagerly and took a drink. When she looked about,
she saw several well beaten paths; but she did not
know which to take, since from her late experience
she had found that not every path leads home.
Then she remembered that whenever her mother
was in trouble she would go to her room to pray;
so she, too, knelt down and asked God to lead her
out of the woods.

“ Suddenly she hears strange sounds. They ring
clearer and clearer in her ears. She does not know
what is happening to her, what those sounds mean.
She begins to tremble with fear, to cry, she wants
to run away, when behold! a white sheep comes
toward her from the wood, behind her a second, a
third, a fourth, a fifth, till the whole flock stand
about the spring. These are her father’s sheep, for
here comes the shepherd’s large, white dog, and
here is Barta, the shepherd, himself. She cried out
Barta! and ran to meet him. The good shepherd
was delighted to find the lost child, and greatly
astonished to hear her speak. He took her in his
arms and hastened to the farm -house, which was
but a short way off. Lady Turynsky was there
distracted with grief, for the sudden disappearance
of her daughter had filled her with consternation.
But her joy knew no bounds when Barta placed
the little one in her arms all safe and sound and
healed,— able to speak and hear. The happy par-
ents, out of thankfulness to God, determined to
build a chapel upon the spot where the miracle had
been performed. The chapel you see yonder is the
very same chapel, and the well near it is the well
out of which she drank, and those woods are the
72 THE GRANDMOTHER.

same woods. But the little girl died long, long
ago; Sir Turynsky and Lady Turynsky are dead,
too; Barta the shepherd died, and Turyn castle is
in ruins.”

“What became of the dog and the sheep?”
asked Willie.

“ Why, the dog died; the old sheep dropped
away one by one, the young grew and in their turn
had lambs. Thus it is in the world, one goes
another comes.”

The children turned their eyes to the valley.
They seemed to see knights riding about, a little
girl running hither and thither in the woods, and
behold!. a beautiful lady on horseback, followed by
attendants was coming toward them from the vale
below. She had on a dark, tight-fitting jacket, her
long, gray riding habit hung below her stirrups, and
a long, green veil floated in the breeze from her
black hat.

“ Grandma, a knightess, a knightess is coming!”
exclaimed the children.

««What an idea! there are no knightesses; it
must be the Princess from the castle,” replied
Grandmother.

The children were greatly disappointed that it
was not a “ knightess.”

“It is the Princess coming up to us!” again cried
the children in a chorus.

«“ What are you talking about? How could a
horse climb up here?” said Grandmother.

“Oh, but look! Orlando is climbing like a cat!”
exclaimed John.

“ Hush, I do not want to see it. Their Lord-
ships have strange amusements,” said Grandmother,
THE: GRANDMOTHER. 73

as she held the children so they would not lean too
far out of the window.

Presently the Princess was up the hill. She
dismounted, threw her long skirt across her arm,
and entered the arbor. Grandmother arose quickly
and welcomed her.

“Is this Proshek’s family?” she asked, study-
ing the children’s faces.

“Yes, your Grace,” replied Grandmother.

«“ And are you their Grandmother?”

“Yes your Grace, I am their mother’s mother.”

“T am sure you must be happy in having such
healthy grandchildren. I suppose you are good,
obedient children?” continued the lady turning to
the children, whose eyes were fixed upon her. At
her question they looked down and whispered:
“yes ma’am!”

“Hm, it will pass;” said Grandmother, “though
sometimes — but we were no better.”

The Princess smiled. Seeing a basket of straw-
berries on the bench, she asked where they had
gathered them.

Grandmother at once spoke to Barunka: “ Go,
my child, offer the fruit to the princess. They
are fresh, the children gathered them on our way
here; they may taste good to your Grace. When
I was young, I was very fond of strawberries, but
I have not tasted them since the death of my child.”

«And why?” asked the Princess taking the
basket from Barunka.

“O, your Grace,. that is a custom among us.
When a mother loses a child, she eats neither straw-
berries nor cherries till St. John the Baptist. It is
said that at that time the Virgin goes about heaven
74. THE GRANDMOTHER.

giving this fruit to the little children. If a mother
has not been self-denying, and has eaten of this
fruit, when the Virgin comes to the child of such
an one she says: ‘Poor child, there isn’t much
left for you; your mother ate your share.’ For
this reason mothers abstain from eating this fruit
before St. John’s, and if they can do it till St. John’s
they can do it after,” added Grandmother.

The Princess held in her fingers a large straw-
berry, as red as her own beautiful lips; but on hear-
ing this tale, she placed it back in the basket, say-
ing: “I cannot eat now, and the children would
have nothing themselves.”

“O, your Grace, that makes no difference.
Only eat, or take them home with you; we can
gather some more,” quickly said Barunka, pushing
back the basket that the Princess was offering her.

“ Thank you,” replied the lady accepting the
gift and smiling at the simple heartedness of the
child. “To-morrow, however, you must come to
the castle and get your basket; and be sure to bring
your Grandma with you, do you understand?”

« We will!” exclaimed the children with as much
assurance as they showed when they were invited
to the mill by the miller’s wife. Grandmother, in-
deed, wanted to raise some objections, but it was
too late; the Princess bowed to her, smiled at the
children, and was gone, disappearing among the
trees like a beautiful vision.

“ O Grandma, won’t it be delightful to go to the
castle! Papa says they have so many beautiful
pictures there,” said Barunka.

“And they have a parrot that speaks,” cried
John, clapping his hands.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 45

Little Adelka, looking at herself said: “I
shan’t have to wear this dress, shall I?”

“ Well, I declare, what a sight you are! What
were you doing? ” exclaimed Grandmother signing
herself with the cross.

“T couldn’t help it. John pushed me down into
some strawberries,” explained the little girl.

“ You two are forever quarreling. What will
the Princess think? Most likely she will say you
are two little imps. But comé, we must get started
or we shall not reach the gamekeeper’s to - day.”

“I want you to understand, boys, that if you cut
up as you usually do, I will never take you with
me again.”

The boys assured Grandmother that they would
be very good.

“We shall see,” she said, as they approached
their destination. A few more steps brought them
into a dense wood, through which gleamed the
gamekeeper’s white buildings. There was a large
yard in front of the house, shaded by lindens and
chestnuts. Beneath these there were several small
tables and benches fastened to the ground. Several
peacocks were seen strutting about on the green
sward; Grandmother used to say that they had
angel’s plumage, a thief’s step, and the devil’s voice.
A little way from the peacocks was seen a flock of
speckled, blear-eyed guinea hens; white rabbits,
pricking up their ears, ready to flee from the small-
est danger; a handsome fawn, with a red band
around its neck, lying at the door; and several dogs
lounging about. Hardly had the children spoken
to the dogs, when they gave a joyous bark and
bounded out to meet them. The fawn, called by
76 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Adelka, also came and with her blue eyes looked up
lovingly at the child as if she would say: “ Ah, it
is you, who bring me those good morsels. Wel-
come here!” Adelka must have read this in her
eyes, for she quickly put her hand in her pocket
and brought out a piece of bread, which the fawn
took and followed them to the house.

“ What in the deuce is the matter here, you sav-
age brutes!” cried a man’s voice from within, and
directly after, the gamekeeper, clad in a green
jacket and a house cap, made his appearance.

“ What welcome guests!” he exclaimed seeing
Grandmother and the children. Come in, come in!
Hector, Diana, Amina be quiet! One cannot hear
his own voice,” he said shaking his cane at the dogs.

The company entered the house, over the door
of which was fastened a pair of deer’s horns. In
the hall hung several rifles, but very high so that
the children could not reach them. Grandmother
was always afraid of fire arms, and when the game-
keeper assured her that they were not loaded, she
would still say: |“ Whocan tell what may happen;
the devil never sleeps!”

“ Very true,” replied the gamekeeper, “ when
God permits, a hoe may go off.”

Grandmother was ready to forgive him any-
thing, if only he did not swear; that, she could not
stand. She put her hands on her ears, saying:
“What is the good of such a foul mouth? one
should sprinkle holy water when you leave.”

The gamekeeper liked Grandmother, and so in
her presence was very careful not to touch on the
devil, who he said was always getting mixed up
with his words.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 77

“ Where is your wife?” asked Grandmother as
she entered the room and saw no one.

“Just make yourself at home till I call her; you
know she is always busied about something.”

The attention of the boys was attracted by a
case in which gleamed hunters’ knives and other
arms. The girls played with the fawn that had
followed them into the house. Grandmother, tak-
ing in at a glance the order and cleanliness of the
room, remarked: “ That’s a fact, let a person come
here on Friday or Sunday, everything is as clean
as glass.” Just then her eye fell upon the spinning
that lay near the stove, tied up and marked ready
for the weaver. As she was examining it very at-
tentively, the door opened, and the mistress of the
house entered the room.

She was still young, and in her neat house-dress
and white cap cut a very handsome figure. Her
welcome was hearty, and her honest face showed
that it was sincere. “Iwas out sprinkling the linen;
I am delighted with it; this year it will be as white as
cambric,” she remarked after excusing her absence.

“ What industry!” replied Grandmother. “A
piece out bleaching, and here a lot ready for the
weaver. This will make cloth like parchment; if
only he would work it up well, and not cheat you.
By the way, are you satisfied with your weaver?”

“My dear Grandma, you know they all cheat.”

*“O you women, you women! I’d just like to
know how the weaver could cheat you? You have
everything reckoned out to the last thread!” laughed
the gamekeeper. “But do sit down,” he said to
Grandmother who was still standing, admiring the
spinning.
78 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ Oh, never mind, I am not tired,” she replied, as
she seized little Nanny by the hand so she should
not fall, for the little one was just learning to walk.

As soon as the mistress of the house stepped
from the door, two tanned urchins were seen stand-
ing at the threshold; one fair-haired like the
mother, the other dark like the father. They had
followed their mother to the house, but when she
entered into conversation with Grandmother, they
did not know what to do; they felt bashful and
remained standing outside.

«“ O you blue jays, is that the proper thing to do,
to hide behind your mother’s petticoats when your
friends come to see you?” said the father. “Come
forward and shake hands with our company.”

They willingly obeyed. Grandmother gave
them some apples, and said: “ Next time you must
not be bashful; it is not becoming for boys to hang
about their mother’s apron strings.” The boys
were silent, their eyes fixed upon the apples.

«Now, begone! show your friends the horned
ow! and give her that blue jay I shot to-day. Show
them also the young pheasants and the puppies.
But don’t you race among the poultry like so many
wild colts, or T’ll—”

The last the children did not hear, for as soon as
the father said ‘ Begone,’ the whole crowd rushed
like a hurricane through the door.

“What a whirl!” remarked the gamekeeper
with a smile.

“ Children will be children, — youthful blood!”
added Grandmother.

“ But if only those boys were not so wild! Be-
lieve me, Grandma, at times I am dying with ter-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 79

ror. They climb up trees and over pitfalls, turn
somersets, tear their trowsers,— it’s dreadful to
relate! I thank the Lord for this one good child;
she is a treasure,” said the mother.

“ What can you expect, my good woman? The
boys take after the father, the girls after the moth-
er,” replied Grandmother.

The mother laid Nanny in the father’s arms
that he might hold her awhile, — “ Only till I get
something to eat; I shall be back presently.”

“A good woman that!” remarked the game-
keeper as his wife stepped out of the door. “It
would be a sin to offend her,— only if she were
not so fussy about those boys; they won’t break
their necks. What is a boy good for, if he has no
metal?”

“Excess is injurious in everything. Let boys
have their own way, and they will walk upon their
heads,” remarked Grandmother; and yet that was
exactly what she did with her own boys.

The gamekeeper’s wife now entered loaded
with provisions. The oaken table was covered
with a white cloth, and upon it were placed majol-
ica plates, and knives with deer - horn handles; then
there appeared strawberries and cream, fritters and
honey, bread and butter, and beer.

The hostess took Grandmother’s distaff away,
saying as she did so: “ Never mind the spinning
now, but come and help yourself! Cut your bread
and spread it! The butter is fresh,— churned to-
day; the beer is not watered. Those fritters are
not so good, I baked them to-day haphazard; but
when a thing is unexpected, it often tastes good.
You don’t eat strawberries? the children, however,
80 THE GRANDMOTHER.

are very fond of them, especially with cream.”

Thus she went on, urging Grandmother to eat, and
cutting slice after slice of bread, spreading it with
butter, and pouring honey over it.

Suddenly, as if she recollected something, Grand-
mother struck her forehead, saying: “O that old
head of mine! Just think, I never told you that we
met the Princess in the arbor.”

“ Please Grandmother, don’t say anything till I
return. J must satisfy those children, so that they
will behave.”

In the meantime, the children headed by Frank
and Bertie had rummaged through everything.
They were just standing before the house watching
Amina jump over a cane and fetch in her mouth
articles that were thrown to her, when the mother
came to the door to call them to luncheon. She
did not need to call them twice. “ Now, sit down
under the trees and eat, but do not soil your
clothes,” she said as she spread the food out before
them. The children sat down while the dogs
stood about wistfully looking into their faces.

As soon as the mother re-entered the house, she
begged Grandmother to proceed with the story
about the Princess. This she willingly did, relat-
ing word for word all that had been said and done
in the arbor.

“Don’t I always say she has a good heart,”
remarked the gamekeeper’s wife. ‘ Whenever she
comes here, she asks about the children and kisses
Nanny on the forehead; and whoever is fond of
children cannot be so bad. But those servants
spread evil reports, as though she were,— who
knows how had?”
THE GRANDMOTHER. 81

“Do good to the devil, and he'll reward you
with evil,” said Grandmother.

“You are right,” observed the gamekeeper.
“That is what I say. We could not desire a better
mistress, if it were not for those bailiffs about her,
who by lying set her against us. That crew is of
no earthly use, unless it be to rob the Lord of his
time. When, dear Grandma, I observe these things,
I think: ‘O that a thousand streaks of lightning
would go through you!’ Isn’t it enough to rouse
one’s wrath when such a clown, who doesn’t know
anything and is good for nothing but to stand
behind a wagon like a wooden man and gape, gets
as much as I, counts more than I, who, rain or
shine, in mud and snow must wander about the
woods, night and day, watching poachers and quar-
reling with them, and must care for all and be
responsible for all. I do not complain, I am satis-
fied; but when such a blusterer comes here and
turns up his nose, then, upon my soul, I would, —
but what’s the use of vexing one’s self?” and the
gamekeeper took a glass and drank down his indig-
nation.

“ Does that lady know all that is going on?
Why doesn’t some one have the courage to tell her,
when he is wronged?” asked Grandmother.

“ Zounds! who wants to put his finger into the
fire? I often speak with her, and could tell her
this and that; but I always think: ‘ Frank, hold
your tongue, lest your own words turn against you.’
Besides, she need not believe me; she will ask those
above me, and then you have it! These will
stand by each other, and I shall be left in the lurch.
I spoke with her a few days ago, when she was

6
82 THE GRANDMOTHER.

walking in the grove with that strange nobleman,
who is visiting her. They had met Victorka, who
frightened the Princess; they asked me about her.

“What did you tell them?” asked Grand-
mother.

“ What should I say? I told them she was
crazy, but that she harmed no one.”

“ What did they say then?”

“They sat down in the grass, the nobleman at
the lady’s feet, and ordered me to sit down and re-
late to them about Victorka and how she became
crazy.”

“And you gladly consented, did you not?”
smiled his wife.

“ My dear, who would not be at the service of
a beautiful lady! Our Princess, ’tis true, is no
longer young, but is still wondrously beautiful.
Besides, what could I do? I was obliged to obey.”

“ O, you rogue! it is two years since I came here,
and you expressly promised me that you would tell
me the story about Victorka; and I do ‘not know
it yet. A beautiful lady I am not, and cannot give
my orders, so I suppose I shall never know it. Is
not that so?”

“O, Grandma, you are dearer to me than the
most beautiful lady in the world, and if you wish
to listen, I'll tell you the story, perhaps this very
day.”

“ Your husband knows how to place a satin
cushion,” smiled Grandmother, “ and if you do not
object, Pll take him at his word. The aged are
like children, and children you know are always
ready for a story.”

“I am not old, and yet I love to listen, too; only
THE GRANDMOTHER. 83

begin, Father, begin; our time will pass away so
much more pleasantly,” said his wife.

«“ Mamma, please give us some more bread, we
haven’t a bit,” said Bertie at the door.

« That is not possible! where could they have
put all that bread?” wondered Grandmother.

“Half they ate, the other half they divided
among the dogs, the fawn, and the squirrels; that
is always the way. How they try my patience!”
sighed the mother as she cut more bread. While
she was distributing it and placing Nanny in the
care of the nurse girl, the gamekeeper filled his
pipe.

“ My husband,—may his soul rest in peace,
—also had this habit; before he began telling a
story, his pipe had to be ready,” said Grand-
mother, and a pleasant memory seemed to shine
in her face.

«“ It’s a bad habit, but itseems that the men have
agreed upon it,” said the gamekeeper’s wife as she
entered the room.

“Oh, now, do not pretend that you do not like
it. Why, you yourself bring me my tobacco from
town,” replied the husband lighting his pipe.

“ What can Ido? To keep you good - natured
one must satisfy every whim. You may begin,”
she said as she seated herself with her spinning next
to Grandmother.

“JT am ready, listen;” and watching the first
cloud of smoke ascend to the ceiling, he leaned well
against the back of the chair and began the story of
Victorka.
CHAPTER V.

ICTORKA is the daughter of a peasant from
Zernov. Her parents were buried long ago,
but her brother and sister still live. Fifteen years ago
she was a maiden, handsome as a strawberry, spry
as a fawn, industrious as a bee; far and wide there
was none equal to her, and no one could have
wished for a better wife. Such a girl, with a
dowry in prospect, doesn’t remain under a cover.
Her fame spread far and wide, and wooers passed
each other at the door. Some pleased both father
and mother, some were well-to-do peasants, so that,
as they say, she would have come to a full crib; but
she would not see it so, and only those found favor
in her eyes who danced the best, and they only at
the dance.

The father was not at all pleased that his daugh-
ter should dispose of her suitors in such an off - hand
way, and at times he would remonstrate with her,
telling her he himself would choose a husband for
her and compel her to marry him. Then she
would cry and beg her father not to drive her away
from home; she assured him that she had time
enough for marriage seeing she was but twenty,
that she wanted to enjoy life, and that God only
knew whether she would be happy after she was
married. The father loved the girl dearly, and
when she went on like this he pitied her, and see-
ing her pretty face thought: “It is true, there is

84
THE GRANDMOTHER. 85

time enough, you will not be without wooers.”
The people, however, thought differently; they
said Victorka was proud, that she was waiting for
some one to come after her in a carriage; they
prophesied that pride goes before a fall, that who
chooses the longest chooses the worst. They ut-
tered these and similar sayings.

At that time the chasseurs were quartered in
the village, and one of them began to follow
Victorka. When she went to church, he went, too,
and always posted himself where he could look
straight at her. When she went cutting grass, he
was sure to be somewhere near her; in short, he
followed her like a shadow. People said he was
not in his right mind; when they spoke of him in
her presence she would say: “Why does that sol-
dier follow me? He doesn’t speak, he is like a
churl; I am afraid of him. I feel the cold chills
creeping over me whenever he is around, and. those
eyes of his make my head swim.”

Those eyes, those eyes! everybody said they
meant nothing good; some said that at night they
shone like live coals, and that those dark eyebrows
which overshadowed them like ravens’ wings,
meeting in the middle, were a sure sign that he
possessed the power of “the evil eye.” Some
pitied him, saying: “ Dear Lord! is a person to be
blamed for such a fault, when he was born with it?
And, besides, such eyes injure only some people;
others need not be afraid of them.” Nevertheless,
when he happened to look at one of the village
children, the mother hastened to wipe the child’s
face with a white cloth; and when a child became
ill, the gossips at once said that the dark chasseur
86 THE GRANDMOTHER.

s

had overlooked it. Finally the people became
accustomed to his swarthy complexion, and some of
the girls went so far as to say that he would be
fairly good looking if only he were more agreeable.
Their opinion of him amounted to this: ‘What’s
to be done with such a fellow? God only knows
where he is from; perhaps he is not human; one
feels like signing oneself when he is about, and
saying: ‘God with us and evil away!’ He doesn’t
dance, nor speak, nor sing; let him alone.” And
they left him alone. But it was easy for them to
say: “Let him alone,” when he paid no attention to
them; it was quite different with Victorka.

She feared to go out alone lest she should meet
those wicked eyes. She enjoyed the dance no
longer, for she knew that dark face was watching
her from some corner of the room; she seldom
went to the spinning bees, for if not inside, the
dark chasseur was sure to be out by the window,
and her voice choked in her throat and her thread
broke. She suffered much. People noticed the
change in her, but no one dreamed that the dark
soldier could be the cause. They thought Victorka
allowed him to follow her because she did not
know how to get rid of him. Once she said to her
mates: “ Believe me girls, if now a suitor should
come, I would marry him, were he rich or poor,
handsome or hideous, if only he were from another
village.”

“What has got into your head? Have you
trouble at home, that you are so dissatisfied as to
want to leave us?”

« Think not thus of me! It’s that soldier; while
he is about, I cannot stand it here; you can’t imag-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 847

ine how he torments me! Why, I cannot even say
my prayers properly nor sleep in peace; for those
eyes pursue me everywhere,” said Victorka burst-
ing into tears.

“ Why don’t you send him word not to follow
you, that you can’t endure him, that he is salt to
your eyes?” said her companions.

“ Why, haven’t I done so? To be sure, I did not
speak to him myself; how could I, when he comes
like a shadow? But I sent word to him by one of
his comrades.”

“Well, and what did he say?” asked the girls.

“He said that no one had any right to tell him
where he should or should not go; that besides, he
had not as yet told me that he loved me; and-that,
therefore, I should not send him word that I
wouldn’t have him!”

“Of all things, such rudeness!” frowned the
girls. “What does he think of himself? We
ought to revenge ourselves upon him.”

« Better let such an one alone; he could bewitch
you,” suggested the more prudent ones.

“ Lack-a-daisy! what can he do to us? To do
this he would be obliged to have something we had
worn next to our bodies, and none of us would give
him that, and we will accept nothing from him;
then what need we fear? So, dear Victorka, don’t
you be afraid; we will go with you everywhere,
and some day that churl will catch it from us,”
said the more courageous of her friends.

But Victorka looked about timidly and was not
at all comforted by their words. She sighed: “Oh
that God himself would free me from ‘this cross!”

What Victorka had confided to her mates did
88 THE GRANDMOTHER.

not remain a secret; it was told everywhere, till it
went across the fields to the next village.

In a few days there appeared at Victorka’s home
a certain well dressed man from the neighboring
village. Their conversation turned on this and
that, until he owncd up that his neighbor desired to
have his son marry, that his son liked Victorka,
and that he was sent as a match - maker, to find out
whether or not they could come to arrange the
betrothal.

“ Wait a moment, I must ask Victorka. As far
as I am concerned, I know Simon and his son
Anton, and have nothing against it,” said the father
and went to call Victorka into the spare room for
consultation.

As soon as Victorka heard the proposal she said:
“Let them come.”

The father thought it strange that she should
decide so quickly, and asked her if she knew Anton,
saying that she must not decide in haste and then
change her mind and have them come to no pur-
pose. But she remained firm, replying that she
knew Anton Simon well, and that he was a very
estimable young man.

“T am rejoiced at this,” said the father, “ besides,
it’s your own choice. In God’s name let them come.”

When the father had gone to tell the match-
maker the result of the conference, the mother
entered the room, and making the sign of the
cross upon Victorka’s head wished her joy.

“ What pleases me the most is that you will not
have either a mother - in - law or a sister - in - law in
the house, that you will be the housekeeper your-
self,” said the mother.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 89

“© dearest mother, I should marry him if I had
to live with two mothers - in - law.”

“That is so much the better, if you think so
much of each other,” said the mother.

“It isn’t that, dear mother; I should have
accepted any other young man as soon.”

“For heaven’s sake, what are you talking about!
So many have come, and you refused them all.”

“Then I was not followed by that soldier with
those awful eyes,” whispered Victorka.

“You have lost your senses! What of that
soldier? What do you care for him? Let him go
where he wishes, he cannot carry you away from
your home.”

“But, dearest mother, it is he, only he. My
heart is heavy and full of sorrow; I am so uneasy
and can find no peace anywhere,” sobbed the girl.

“Why didn’t you tell me long ago? I would
have taken you to the blacksmith’s wife; she knows
how to cure such things. Never mind, to-morrow
we shall go,” she said, comforting her daughter.

The following day mother and daughter went
to the old dame. It was said that she knew a great
many things that other people did not know.
Whenever anybody lost anything, when cows did
not give the usual amount of milk, when any one
was “overlooked,” the blacksmith’s wife always
knew the remedy; she knew how to discover every-
thing. Victorka confided to her all her trouble,
telling her just how she felt.

“And you never spoke to him, not a single
word?” inquired the dame.

«“ Not a word.”

“Did he never give you, or send you by other
go THE GRANDMOTHER.

soldiers, something to eat, such as apples or sweet-
meats?”

“ Nothing at all. The other soldiers have little
to do with him; they say he is so proud, and all
his life such a recluse. They said this at our
house.”

“ He is a real ghoul,” said the blacksmith’s wife
with great assurance; “but don’t you be afraid, Vic-
torka, I shall help you; all isnot lost yet. To-morrow
I shall bring you something which you must carry
with you everywhere. In the morning, when you
leave your room, you must never omit to bless your-
self with holy water and say: ‘God be with us, and
the evil one away!) When you go through the
fields, you must not turn to the right or to the left,
and should that soldier address you, never mind,
though he speak as an angel. He can charm even
with the voice. Better put your hands over your
ears! Don’t you forget this. If you are not better
in a few days, we will try something else, but be
sure to come again.”

Victorka left in a happy frame of mind, hoping
that she should again feel as light and cheerful as
she used tobe. The next day the blacksmith’s wife
brought her something tied up in a bit of red
cloth, and herself sewed it around the girl’s neck,
giving strict orders at the same time that she must
never take it off or show it to anybody. In the
evening, when she was cutting grass, she caught a
glimpse of somebody standing near the trees and
felt the blood rush to her cheeks; but she plucked
up courage and did not look around once, and hav-
ing finished her work flew home as if she were
pursued. The third day was Sunday. The mother
THE GRANDMOTHER. gl

was baking kolaches,* the father went to invite the
schoolmaster and several others of the older neigh-
bors to spend the afternoon, and the villagers putting
their heads together said: “At Mikesh’s, they
will celebrate the betrothal!”

In the afternoon three men in Sunday clothes
entered the yard; two had rosemary on_ their
sleeves. The master of the house welcomed them
at the door, and the servants standing near said:
“May God grant you success.”

“God grant it,” replied the speaker, both for
father and son.

The groom was the last to cross the threshold,
and the women outside were heard to say: “A
handsome youth, that Anton; he carries his head
like a deer; and see, what a fine sprig of rosemary
he has on his sleeve! Where did he buy it?”
The men replied to this: “Yes, indeed! he may
carry his head high when he carries off the fairest
lass in the village, the best dancer, a good house-
keeper, and wealthy, besides.”

Thus reasoned many parents, and some were
offended that Victorka had chosen one from across
the fields| ‘Why wasn’t this one or that one
good enough for her? why this haste and these
strange notions!” Thus they ran on, as is the cus-
tom on such occasions.

Before evening the marriage contract was fin-
ished. It was drawn out by the schoolmaster, the
parents and witnesses putting down three crosses
instead of their names, and Victorka gave her hand
to Anton, promising that in three weeks she would
be his wife. The next day, her friends came to

* A biscuit with some sauce rolled inside.
92 THE GRANDMOTHER.

congratulate her, and whenever she appeared on
the common, she was greeted with the words, “ God
grant you happiness, bride!”* But when the
young people said: “What a pity that you are
going away! Why do you leave us, Victorka?”
then her eyes filled with tears.

For several days Victorka was happier, and
when she had occasion to go out of the village
was not oppressed with the fear that she had felt
before. She wore the amulet from the blacksmith’s
wife, as she had done before she was a bride. She
felt free from anxiety, and thanked God and the
old dame for her delivery from danger. Her joy,
however, was of short duration.

One evening she was sitting with Anton in the
orchard. They were discussing plans for their
future housekeeping, and were talking about the
wedding. Suddenly Victorka stopped, her eyes
were fixed upon the bush before her, and her hand
trembled.

“What is the matter?” asked Anton much sur-
prised.

“ Look! between those branches before us,—
don’t you see anything?” she whispered.

Anton looked, but declared he saw nothing.

“It seemed to me that the dark soldier was
watching us,” she whispered so low as to be scarcely
heard.

«“ Just wait, we'll make an end of that,” cried
Anton. He sprang up and searched all around,
but in vain; he saw noone. ‘He will not escape
so easily another time; if he persists in looking at

*In Bohemia a young woman is a bride from the day of betrothal
to the day of marriage.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 93

you even now, J’ll make him rue it!” scolded
Anton.

“Don’t pick any quarrel with him, I beg of
you, Anton. A soldier is a soldier. Father him-
self went to Red Hura, and he would have gladly
paid something to the officer of that town for re-
moving him from our village; but he said that he
could not do it, even if he desired to; and, besides,
it was no offense, when a man looked at a girl.
Father learned from the soldiers, that that chasseur
comes from a very wealthy family, that he enlisted
of his own free will, and can leave when he
chooses. If you begin a quarrel with him you
will be sure to get the worst of it.” Thus spoke
Victorka, and Anton promised to let the soldier
alone.

From that evening Victorka was again op-
pressed by moments of gloom and heaviness, and
however confidently she pressed the amulet to her
breast, whenever she felt those baleful eyes fixed
upon her, her heart’s loud beatings were not quieted
thereby. She went to the blacksmith’s wife for
further advice.

“Tdon’t know but that it is a punishment upon
me from God; for what you have given me doesn’t
help me at all,” said Victorka.

“ Never mind, my child, never mind. I'll give
it to him yet, even if he were Anti-christ himself.
But first I must have two things from him. Before
I secure those, you must avoid him as much as pos-
sible! Pray to your guardian angel and for those
souls in purgatory for whom nobody else prays.
If you redeem one, she will intercede for you.”

«“ That is the worst, dear God-mother; my mind
94 THE GRANDMOTHER.

is so disturbed that I cannot pray in peace,” sobbed
the poor girl.

«“ My child, why did you leave it so long, until
the evil power overcame you? But with God’s
help we shall conquer that demon yet.”

Victorka summoned all her courage; she prayed

‘fervently, and when her thoughts began to wander
she thought of Christ’s crucifixion, of the Virgin
Mary, so that the evil power should not overcome
her. She guarded herself thus for two days; the
third day, however, she went into the farthest cor-
ner of her father’s fields to cut some clover; she
told the workman to follow her soon, as she would
hurry with the cutting. She ran like a fawn, and
the people stopped their work to look at her and
admired the grace of her movements. Thus she
went, but home she was brought by the workman,
on the green clover, pale, wounded. Her foot was
bound in a fine, white handkerchief, and she had to
be lifted from the cart and carried into the house.

“ Holy Virgin! what has happened to you, my
daughter?” lamented the mother.

“I stepped upon a thorn; it went deep into my
foot and made me ill. Please take me into my
room. I will lie down,” begged Victorka.

They carried her in, laid her on her bed, and the
father hastened to the blacksmith’s wife. She came
post haste, and with her a crowd of uninvited neigh-
bors, as is generally the way. One advised bur-
net, the second, dragon’s head, the third urged them
to smoke it, the fourth, to conjure it; but the wise
old dame was not put out by those differences of
opinion. She bound up the swollen foot in a
poultice of potato starch. Then she dismissed all
THE GRANDMOTHER. 95

the visitors, saying that she herself would watch by
Victorka, and soon everything would be all right.

“Tell me, my child, how was it? You seem to
be greatly disturbed. And who was it that bound
up your foot in that fine, white handkerchief? I
hid it quickly so that those gossips should not
notice it,” said the careful woman, placing Vic-
torka’s foot in a more comfortable position.

“Where did you put it?” quickly asked the
girl.

“You have it under your pillow.”

Victorka reached for the handkerchief, examined
the bloody stains, the embroidered name, which she
did not know, and the color of her face changed
from white to crimson.

“My child, my child, I do not like your looks,
What am I to think of you?”

“ Think that God has forsaken me, that nothing
can help me, that I am forever and ever lost.”

“She has a fever and is raving,” thought the
good woman, laying her hand on Victorka’s cheeks;
but they were cold, and her hands were cold, too,
and only her eyes seemed to burn, as she fixed them
upon the handkerchief which she held with both
hands before her.

“ Listen to me,” began Victorka quietly, “ but
do not say anything to any one. I will tell you
everything. Those two days I did not see him,—
of course you know whom I mean,— but to-day,
this morning it kept sounding in my ears: ‘Go to
the clover field, go to the clover field,’ as if some
one were whispering to me. I knew it was some
temptation, because he is often there sitting under
a tree on the hill; but somehow I had no rest until
96 THE GRANDMOTHER.

I was on my way with the scythe and the bags.
As I was going I thought I was my own worst
enemy, but something kept whispering in my ears:
‘Only go, go cut your clover, who knows whether
he will be there? Why should you be afraid?
Tomesh will follow you soon. Thus it drove me
on till I came to the field. I looked toward the
tree but nobody was there. ‘If he is not there, the
danger is past,’ thought I, and took up the scythe
to cut the clover. Then it occurred to me to try
my luck. I wanted to find a four -leaved clover;
for I thought: ‘If I find one, I shall be happy
with Anton.’ I looked and looked, almost leaving
my eyes on the clover, but I found none. Then I
happened to look toward the hill, and whom did I
see standing under a tree but that soldier! I turned
away quickly; but at that instant I stepped upon
some thorns that lay near the path, and one went
into my foot. I did not cry out, but the pain was
so intense that it grew dark before my eyes, and I
think I must have fainted away. As in a dream, I
felt that some one took me up in his arms and car-
ried me away, and then in great pain I awoke. I
was at the spring, and that soldier was kneeling at
my side. He dipped his white handkerchief in the
water and bound up my foot in it.

“¢My God!’ thought I, ‘what is going to hap-
pen now? Youcannot escape those eyes. It will
be best if you do not look into them.’ I suffered
much from the pain, my head swam, but I did not
utter a whisper, and kept my eyes closed. He laid
his hand on my forehead and took hold of my hand.
My blood froze with terror, but still I said not a
word, Then he arose, sprinkled water in my face,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 97

and raised my head. What wasI todo? I had to
open my eyes. O my dear Godmother, those eyes
of his shone upon me like God’s dear sun! I covered
my face with my hands, but when he began tospeak,
I could not withstand the charm of his voice. Oh,
you were right when you said he could bewitch
one with his voice; his words ring in my ears even
yet. He said that he loved me, that I was his bliss,
his heaven!”

“ What wicked words! one can see that they are
the snares of the Evil One! Unhappy girl, what
were you thinking of that you believed him!”
lamented the blacksmith’s wife. -

“ Heavens! how could I doubt him, when he
told me that he loved me?”

“Told you! what does that amount to? —all
fraud and deception. He wants to deprive you of
your reason.”

“ That is what I told him; but he protested on
his soul’s salvation that he loved me from the first
time that he had seen me, and that he refrained
from speaking with me and telling me so, because
he did not want to bind me to his own unhappy
fate, that followed him every where, never allow-
ing him to enjoy any happiness. Oh, I do not re-
member what all he said, but it was enough to
make one weep. I believed everything,I told him
that I had been afraid of him, that out of fear I had
become a bride, that I wore on my heart an amulet;
and when he asked for it, I gave it to him,” said
Victorka.

“O my blessed Savior,” lamented the woman,
“ she gives him the consecrated amulet, she gives him
a thing warmed on her body! Now you are in his

7
98 THE GRANDMOTHER.

power, now not even God can tear you from his
claws, now he has bewitched you entirely!”

“ He said that that witchcraft was love and that
I should believe no other.”

«“ Yes, yes, he said — love; I would tell him what
love is, but all in vain now! What have you done?
Why he is a ghoul, and he will draw your blood
from your veins and then choke you, and you will
not find rest even in your grave. And you might
have been so happy!”

Those words frightened Victorka, but after a
long pause she said: ‘ All is lost; I shall go with
him even if he lead me to perdition. Cover me; I
am so cold!”

The blacksmith’s wife covered her up with
featherbeds, but Victorka was cold all the time and
did not speak another word.

The blacksmith’s wife thought a great deal of
Victorka, and although her giving away the charm
made her very angry, still the fate of the girl, whom
she now regarded as lost, filled her with grief. All
that Victorka had told her she kept to herself.

From that day Victorka lay like one dead. She
did not speak, except some wandering words as if
inher sleep; she did not ask for anything, she did
not notice anybody. The blacksmith’s wife did
not leave her bedside, and exhausted all her store of
knowledge to help her. But all was in vain. The
parents grew more sorrowful day by day, and the
lover went away each day with a heavier heart.
The blacksmith’s wife shook her head as she
thought: “ This is not of itself; how could it be,
that none of those remedies that have helped so
many others help her? That soldier has over-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 99

powered her with some deadly charm, that is it!”
Such were her reflections night and day, and when
one night she happened to look out of the window
of the sick chamber and saw in the orchard the
muffled form of a man, whose eyes glowed like
burning coals,—she would have taken her oath
they did,— she was then sure that her suspicions
were correct.

But she was greatly rejoiced, when one day
Mikesh brought the news that the chasseurs had
received orders to leave.

“ They could have allremained for aught I care,
all but that one; his departure gives me more satis-
faction than if some one gave me a hundred in
gold. The devil himself brought him here. It
has been my impression for some time that since he
has been here our Victorka is not what she used to
be, and that, after all, he has used some black art
against her,” said the father, and the mother and
the blacksmith’s wife agreed with him. The latter,
however, hoped that after the removal of the evil
influence, all would be well again.

The soldiers marched away. That same night
Victorka was so much worse that they thought
they must send for the priest. Towards morning
she grew better, and continued improving until she
was able to sit up. The blacksmith’s wife herself
accounted for this by the departure of the satanic
power, but still she was not displeased when peo-
ple said: “ That blacksmith’s wife, she is a trump;
if it were not for her, Victorka never would have
walked again.” And when she heard this again
and again, she at last believed that her skill had
saved the girl.
100 THE GRANDMOTHER.

But all danger was not yet over. Victorka was
around again, walked about the yard, but did not
seem like herself. She spoke to no one, did not
notice any one, and her expression seemed confused.
The blacksmith’s wife comforted the parents by
saying that this, too, would in time be overcome;
and she did not think it necessary that she should
watch by her any longer. Victorka’s sister Mary
slept with her again as before.

The first night, when the girls were alone, Mary
sat down on Victorka’s bed and with a loving
voice,— she is a very good soul,— asked her why
she was so strange and what ailed her. Victorka
looked at her but made no reply.

“You see, sister, I want to tell you something,
but I am afraid lest you be angry.”

Victorka shook her head saying: “Say what
you wish, Mary.”

“ The evening before the soldiers left,” began
Mary; but hardly had she finished the last word,
when Victorka seized her by the hand and quickly
‘asked: “ The soldiers went away, and where? ”

“J do not know where they went.”

“ Thank God,” said Victorka heaving a deep
sigh and falling back upon her pillow.

“ Now listen, Victorka, and do not be offended
with me; I know you cannot endure that dark sol-
dier, and that you will blame me for speaking to
him.”

* You spoke to him!” cried Victorka rising
again.

“ I could not help it, he begged me so to listen
to him; but I did not look at him once. While
you were so ill he used to come near the house; but
THE GRANDMOTHER. 101

I always ran away, for I was afraid of him. One
day he met me in the orchard and offered me some
kind of herb. He asked me to prepare it for you
and said that it would do you good; but I would
not take it. I was afraid he wanted to give you a
love potion. Then he begged me to tell you that
he was going away, that he would never forget his
promise, and that you should not forget yours, that
you would meet him again. I promised him I
would tell you and now I have fulfilled my prom-
ise. But do not be afraid, he will never come
again, and you shall have no more trouble.”

“ Thank you, Mary, you area good girl; but
now you may go to sleep,” said Victorka, as she
caressed the round shoulders of her sister. Mary
smoothed down her sister’s pillows, said good night,
and went to sleep.

The next morning, when she awoke, she found
Victorka’s bed empty. She thought her sister was
about the house; but when she went into the living
room, she was not there. She went out into the
yard, but did not find her. The parents were sur-
prised and sent to the blacksmith’s to see if she had
not gone to visit her god-mother, but she had not
been there.

“What has become of her?” was the common
question, while they searched every corner. The
workman was sent to the house of Victorka’s lover,
to see if she had not gone there. When she was
nowhere to be found, and when the lover came and
knew nothing whatever of her, the blacksmith’s
wife owned up. “I think she ran away to follow
that soldier!”

“© That’s a lie!” cried Anton.
102 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“You must be mistaken!” said the parents;
how could that be; she could not endure him!”

“ Nevertheless, it is so,” said she and related
what Victorka had confided to her. Then Mary
told the conversation she had had with her sister
the evening before; and putting one thing to
another, they were convinced that, impelled by
some secret infernal power which she could not
withstand, Victorka had followed the soldier.

“We must not blame her, she could not help it,
only she ought to have come to me while it was
yet time. Now it is too late. He has bewitched
her, and as long as he wishes she must follow him.
And suppose you find her and bring her home, she
must seek him again,” said the old dame with much
emphasis.

“I shall go to seek her, let it be how it will.
Perhaps she will listen to me, for she was always a
good girl,” said the father.

“T will go with you, father!” exclaimed Anton,
who had listened to all in breathless silence.

“You shall remain at home,” replied the father.
“When a person is angry, he is not apt to consult
his reason, and you might do something for which
you would be put in a cool place or get a white
coat.* Then too, you have suffered enough already;
why should you seek further sorrow. She can
no longer become your wife, put that out of your
mind entirely. If you wish to wait a year for Mary,
you may have her, she is a good girl. I should
like to have you for my son, but I do not urge you,
act according to your own judgment.” Hearing
these words all the family wept. The father tried

* Be put in prison or be taken into the army.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 103

to comfort them. “Do not weep, that will do no
good; if Ido not bring her back, we must leave
her with God.”

The father took a few dollars for his journey,
told the household what must be done in his absence,
and started on his journey. Along the way he
asked many persons if they had seen his daughter,
describing her from head to foot, but nobody had
seen her. At Joseph- hof, they told him that the
chasseurs went to Hradetz, and at Hradetz he learn-
ed that that dark soldier had been put into another
division, and that he wanted to be discharged.
What had finally become of him they could not
tell, but they knew that it was the very same soldier
that had been quartered at Zernov. He found no
traces of Victorka. He was advised to apply at
the police office, but he would hear nothing of this.

“T’ll have nothing to do with the police. I
don’t want her to be brought home like a vagrant,
so that people will point the finger at her. She
shall not be thus disgraced. Let her be wherever
she will, she is in God’s hands, without whose will
not a hair can fall from her head. If she is to
return, she will return; if not, then God’s will be
done; she shall not be dragged before the public.”

This was the father’s decision. He begged the
gamekeeper at Hradetz, if he should see Victorka
or hear anything of her, to tell her that her father
sought her, and, if she wished to return, to provide
her with a suitable escort. The gamekeeper prom-
ised all; for many a good day had he enjoyed at
the home of Mikesh. Then the father returned
home, his mind' at peace, knowing that he had
done all that was in his power. |
104 THE GRANDMOTHER.

All mourned for Victorka. They paid for
prayers and masses that she might return. After
waiting a half a year, three quarters of a year,
and hearing no news of her, they gave her up as
lost.

One day the shepherds brought news to the vil-
lage that they had seen a woman with black hair in
the woods, about as tall as Victorka. Mikesh’s
whole household went out and searched through
the woods, but not a trace was found of any such
person,

At. that time I was in the first year of my
apprenticeship to my predecessor, my late father-
in-law. Of course we heard of this, too, and when
I went into the forest the next day, he told me to
look around and see if I could not discover such a
person. That very day, I saw in the woods just
above Mikesh’s fields, under two firs that had their
branches intermingled, a woman sitting. Her hair
hung in a tangled mass over her shoulders, and
although I had known Victorka, I never should
have recognized her in that neglected, wild looking
creature. But it was she. Her clothes were of
city. style, and although much tattered still showed
marks of elegance. I noticed, too, that she was
soon to become a mother. I got away very quietly
and hastened to tell the news to my master. He,
in turn, went to tell it at Zernov. The parents
wept bitterly and would have preferred to see her
in her grave. But what could be done? We
agreed to watch where she went and slept, that
we might quiet her if possible. One evening she
came clear to her father’s orchard, sat down, held
her knees in both arms with her chin resting upon
THE GRANDMOTHER. 105

them, and fixed her eyes upon one spot. Her
mother wanted to approach her, but she rose
quickly, jumped over the fence, and disappeared in
the woods. My master said that they should place
some food and clothes for her in the woods, and
that perhaps she would notice it. Her parents at
once brought what was necessary, and I myself
placed it in a convenient spot. The next day I
went to see. Of the food the bread only was mis-
sing, and of the clothes, the petticoats and the
underwear. The rest remained untouched, and on
the third day I took it away, lest some one for
whom it was not intended should take it. For a
long time we could not discover where she slept,
until I found out that it was in a cave under three
fir trees, — sometime they must have cut stone there.
The entrance is covered up with growing shrubbery,
so that one not well acquainted with it would find
it with difficulty. Once I entered ‘the cave; one or
two persons could find room in it. WVictorka had
nothing there except some dry leaves and moss.
That was her bed. Her friends and relatives, and
especially her father and Mary, who was then
Anton’s promised bride, watched for her in many
places; they wanted to speak with her and to take
her home, but she shunned all intercourse with peo-
ple and was rarely seen in the day time. When at
last she came to the house and sat down, Mary
stepped quietly to her and with her coaxing voice
said: “Come, Victorka, come with me once more
to our room; it is so long since you have slept with
me, and Iam so lonely. Come and sleep with
me!”

Victorka looked at her and allowed herself to be
106 THE GRANDMOTHER.

taken by the hand and led into the hall; all at once
she sprang away and’was gone. For many days
she was not seen near the homestead.

One night I was standing waiting for game not
far from The Old Bleachery; the moon shone so
that it was as light asday. All at once I saw
Victorka coming out of the woods. When she
walks, she always has her hands folded upon her
breast and her head bent forward, and she steps so
lightly, that she scarcely seems to touch the ground.
At this time she went in this way directly to the
dam. I used to see her quite often near the water
or on the side of the hill under that large oak, and
so J did not pay any special attention to her then.
But when I observed more closely I saw that she
was throwing something into the water, and I
heard her laugh so wildly that my hair stood up in
terror. My dog began to howl. Victorka then
sat down on a stump and sang; I did not under-
stand a word, but the tune was that of the lullaby
which mothers sing to their children:

Sleep, my baby, sleep,
Close thy eyelids, sweet,
God himself will slumber with thee,
And his angels rock and guard thee,
Sleep, my baby, sleep!

That song sounded so mournful in the still night
that I could hardly remain at my post. For two
hours she sat there and sang. Since that time she
is at the bank every evening singing that lullaby.
In the morning I told my master, and he guessed
at once what she most probably threw into the
water,— and it was true. When we saw her again,
her form was changed. Her mother and the others
THE GRANDMOTHER. 107

shuddered; but what could bedone? The unknow-
ing cannot sin! Gradually she learned to come to
our door, usually when driven by hunger, but she
would do then as she does now: She came, posted
herself at the door, and remained standing. My
wife, who was then a girl, quickly gave her some-
thing to eat. She took it without a word, and flew
away to the woods. Whenever I go on my rounds,
I give her bread, which she takes; but if I attempt
to speak to her, she runs away without accepting
anything. She is very fond of flowers; if she does
not carry some in her hand, she has them in her
belt, but when she sees a child, she gives them
away. Who can tell whether she knows what she
does. I should like to know what is going on in
that deranged head of hers, but who can explain it,
she least of all!

When Mary and Anton were married, and
while they were at the church at Red Hura, Vic-
torka came to the farm. God knows whether it
was amere accident, or whether she heard of her
sister’s wedding. She had her apron full of
flowers; as soon as she came to the door, she scat-
tered them over the yard. Her mother began to
call her, and brought her out some kolaches and
whatever other dainties she had, but she turned and
ran away.

Her fatHer was broken down with grief; he
loved her. The third year he died. I happened
to be in the village at the time. Both Anton and
his wife asked me with tears whether I had seen
Victorka. They wanted to bring her to the house
and did not know how. The father could not die
and they all believed she held his soul. I returned
108 THE GRANDMOTHER.

to the woods, thinking that if I saw her, I would
tell her, whether she understood or not. She sat
under the fir trees; I went past her as though by
accident, and quietly, so as not to frighten her, said:
“ Victorka, your father is dying. You might go
home.”

She sat still as though she had not heard me. I
thought: “It is of no use,” and went back to the
village to tell them. While I was still speaking
with Mary at the door, the workman cried: “ Vic-
torka is really coming into the orchard!”

« Anton, call all the friends out, and hide your-
self, that we may not frighten her,” said Mary and
went into the orchard.

Presently she led Victorka into the room. She
was playing with a primrose and did not once raise
her beautiful, but confused black eyes. Mary led
her as if she were blind. All was silent in the
room. On one side of the bed the mother knelt,
at the foot the only son, the father had his hands
folded on his breast, his eyes were turned to heaven;
he was in the agony of death. Mary led Victorka
clear to his bedside. The dying man turned his
eyes upon her and a blissful smile passed over his
features. He tried to raise his hand but could not.
Victorka probably thought that he wanted some-
thing, so she placed the primrose in his hand. Once
more the dying man looked at her, heaved a deep
sigh,—and was dead. Victorka’s presence had
helped him to cross the dark river. The mother
began to weep, and as soon as Victorka heard so
many voices she looked wildly about her, turned to
the door, and fled.

I do not know whether she ever again entered
THE GRANDMOTHER. 109

her home. During these fifteen years, that I have
been living here, I have heard her speak but once.
To my dying day I shall not forget it. I was go-
ing down to the bridge; on the road were the
workmen from the castle hauling some wood, and
in the meadow I saw “ Golden Hair.” That was
the secretary from the castle; the girls nicknamed
him so, because they could not remember his Ger-
man name, and because he had very beautiful
golden hair, which he wore quite long. He was
walking along in the meadow, and because it was
warm he took off his cap and went bareheaded.
All at once, as if she had fallen from the sky,
Victorka rushed out, seized him by the hair, shook
and tore him as if he were a man made of ginger-
bread. The German screamed with all his might,
I flew down the hill, but Victorka raged and bit
him in his hands screaming: ‘ Now I have you
in my power, you snake, you devil! Now I’ll tear
you to pieces! What did you do with my lover?
You devil, give me back my lover!” She became
so enraged that her voice became broken, and we
could not understand her. The German also did
not understand her, he was dumbfounded. Had it
not been for the workmen, we could have done
nothing with her. Seeing the struggle they ran to
the scene, and with their assistance the secretary
was finally extricated from her hands. When,
however, we tried to hold her, she gave a sudden
jerk, and before we were aware was out of our
hands and ran to the woods, where she stood throw-
ing stones at us and cursing so that the skies trem-
bled. After that I did not see her for several days.
The German became ill from his fright, and was
110 THE GRANDMOTHER.

so afraid of Victorka that he left his place. The
girls laughed at him, but what of it! he who runs
away wins, and his absence will not keep the grain
from growing. We have not missed him. ,

«“ There now, Grandma,” concluded the game-
keeper, “‘ you have Victorka’s whole history, partly
as I heard it from the late blacksmith’s wife, and
partly from her sister Mary. What happened be-
sides, who knows? but she must have had a hard
time, and he who carries her ruin upon his con-
science has a heavy load!”

Grandma wiped her tear-stained cheeks, and
said with a pleasant smile: “Iam a thousand times
obliged. One must confess that you can relate a
story as well as a writer; one could listen and listen
and forget that the sun is behind the mountain.”’
Grandmother pointed to the long shadow in the
room and began to put up her work.

“ Wait a few moments, till I feed the poultry,
and I will go with you down the hill,” begged the
hostess, and Grandmother gladly waited.

And [ll escort you down to the bridge, for I
must go to the woods yet,” said the gamekeeper,
rising from the table.

The housekeeper hurried outside and presently
there was heard in the yard a loud calling: “ Chick,
chick, chick!” and the poultry were seen flying from
all directions. First came a flock of sparrows as
though the call were meant for them. The house-
wife remarked: “ Well, well, you are always the
first ;” but they acted as though they did not hear her.

Grandmother stood by the door, keeping the
children near her lest they should frighten away
THE GRANDMOTHER. rit

the poultry which she watched with the greatest
delight. And what poultry! White and gray
geese with goslings, ducks with ducklings, black
Turkish ducks, beautiful chickens of home raising,
and long legged Tyrol chickens, top-knotted and
with ruffled collars, peacocks, doves, Guinea hens,
turkeys with their gobbler, who strutted about and
swelled as though he were the lord of all. The
whole flock rushed into one heap, each striving to
get the largest possible share of the supper. They
stepped upon one another’s heels, jumped over one
another, crawled under and crept through wherever
a space could be found; and the sparrows, those
vagabonds, when they had their own crops well
filled, walked over the backs of the foolish ducks
and geese. Not far off sat the rabbits, and a tame
squirrel, with its tail over its head like a helmet,
looked down upon the children from a chestnut tree.
Upon the fence sat the cat, having a longing eye
fixed upon the sparrows. The fawn allowed Ba-
runka to scratch its head and the dogs sat quietly
near the children, for the housewife held a switch
in her hand. Still when the black cock ran after
the gosling that had taken his food from his very
mouth and the gosling ran near Hector’s nose, the
dog could not refrain from grabbing at it.

“ See that old loon!” cried the housewife, as
her switch whizzed about the dog’s ears.

Hector was ashamed that he should be thus re-
proved before his younger companions, and with
his head down he crawled into the hall. Grand-
mother remarked: “Of course the son cannot be
better than the father.” Hector was the son of
Sultan, who killed those beautiful ducklings.
112 THE GRANDMOTHER.

The feeding was over; the poultry went to their
roosts. Frank and Bertie gave the children some
peacock feathers, the housewife gave Grandmother
some Tyrol chickens’ eggs for hatching, and taking
Nannie in her arms she was ready to accompany
them a part of the way. The gamekeeper, throw-
ing his rifle over his shoulder and calling Hector,
followed them.

At the foot of the hill, the gamekeeper’s wife
bade them good night and returned home with the
children; at the bridge the gamekeeper shook hands
with them and turned to the woods to lie in wait
for game. John watched him till he disappeared
in the woods, and then said to Barunka: “ When
Iam a little older, I will go with Mr. Beyer; and
then I, too, can go out and lie in wait for game.”

“Yes, but they would be obliged to send some
one with you, for you are afraid of forest women
and fiery men,” laughed Barunka.

“O,what do you know about it?” frowned
John, “ when I am older, I shall not be afraid.”

Passing the dam, Grandmother noticed the
moss- covered stump, and thinking of Victorka,
sighed deeply: “ Unhappy girl.”
CHAPTER VI.

HE following day, before noon, the children
headed by Grandmother sallied out of the
house.

“Now, remember to behave well,” said the
mother at the door; “do not touch anything in the
castle, and do not forget, when you get there,
politely to kiss the hand of the Princess! ”

“T shall see that everything is done properly,”
replied Grandmother.

The children looked like newly opened blossoms,
and Grandmother, too, had on her best: a clove
colored linsey-woolsey petticoat, an apron white as
snow, a damask sky-blue jacket, a cap with the
dove-knot, and the garnet necklace with the dollar.
Across her arm she carried her shawl. “ Why do you
take that shawl, it will not rain?” said her daughter.

“Tt seems as if I have no hands when I have
nothing to carry,” replied Grandmother.

They made a turn around the orchard and found
themselves in the narrow path.

“Now go carefully, one behind another in the
path, so as not to soil your clothes in the wet grass.
You Barunka, go ahead; I will lead Adelka, for
she doesen’t know how to keep in the path,” said
Grandmother as she took Adelka’s hand, who was
looking at herself with great satisfaction. In the
orchard Blackie was running about,—that was
Adelka’s hen, the one Grandmother brought from
the mountain village; it was so tame that it would

8 113
114 THE GRANDMOTHER.

eat out of the children’s hands, and every time it
laid an egg it came to Adelka, who gave it a piece
of roll that she had saved from her breakfast.

“Go to Mamma, Blackie, I left the roll for you
there; I am going to see the Princess,” said Adelka
to the hen, but the hen ran to her as though she
did not understand, and tried to pick at her dress.

“You foolish hen, don’t you see my white dress?
Vsh-sh-sh!” cried the child, but the hen refused
to go, until Grandmother struck it with her shawl.

They went a little further; when lo! a new
danger threatens their white clothes. The dogs
are running upon the hillside; they wade the stream,
shake themselves a little, and with a bound are at
Grandmother’s side.

“ A plague on you! who called you? away at
once!” scolded Grandmother, shaking her fist at
them. The dogs hearing her angry voice and
seeing the upraised arm, stood still a moment won-
dering what it could mean. The children scolded,
too, and John took up a stone to throw at them;
but instead of hitting them it fell into the stream.
The dogs accustomed to fetch things thrown into
the water, and thinking the children meant to play
with them, bounded into the water and in an in-
stant were back again near the terrified children;
they screamed and hid behind Grandmother, who
herself was at her wit’s end to know what to do.

“TH run home and call Betsey,” suggested
Barunka.

“ No; it is not well to turn back, it often brings
bad luck,” objected Grandmother.

Fortunately the miller happened to come along,
and seeing how things stood drove the dogs away.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 115

“ Whither bound, a wedding or a festival?” he
asked.

“ There is no wedding, sir; we are going to the
castle,” replied Grandmother.

“To the castle! Well that’s something? What
will you do there?’ wondered the miller.

«The princess invited us,” explained the children,
and Grandmother added how she had met that lady
in the arbor.

“ Well, well!” said the miller, taking a pinch of
snuff; “ when you return, Adelka must tell me what
she saw there; and, John, if the Princess should
ask you where the finch goes when she follows her
nose, you won’t know, will you? ”

“She won’t ask me,” replied John, running
away to escape further questioning. The miller
smiled mischievously, said good bye, and turned
toward the dam.

When they reached the inn, they saw Kuderna’s
children playing with paper mills. Celia held the
baby.

“What are you doing here?” asked Barunka.

“Nothing,” they replied, curiously eyeing the
children’s pretty clothes.

“ We are going to the castle,” began John in a
boasting manner.

“Hm, what of it!” replied Lawrence with a
toss of the head.

« And we'll see the parrot!” chimed in Willie.

«© When I grow up, I shall see parrots and many
other things; father says I am to travel and see the
world,” said the bold Lawrence; but Wenzel and

‘Celia said, “If we could go too!”
«“ Never mind, I’ll bring you something and tell
116 THE GRANDMOTHER.

you all about it,” said John, trying to comfort
them.

Finally they reached the park without any
more interruption, and were joined by their father
who was waiting for them.

The park belonged to the castle but was free to
the public. It’ was near The Old Bleachery, but
Grandmother seldom went there, especially when
the nobility were at home. She admired the skill
with which everything was arranged, the beautiful
flowers, the rare trees, the fountains with their
golden fishes; still she preferred to take the children
to the meadow or to the woods. There, on the
soft green carpet, they could roll about as they
pleased, smell every flower, or pick enough of them
to make bouquets or garlands. Oranges and lem-
ons did not grow in the fields, but here and there
stood a cherry tree or a wild pear tree loaded with
fruit, and any one could shake down as much as he
pleased. Again, in the woods there were plenty of
strawberries, huckleberries,; mushrooms, and hazel
nuts. There were no fountains in the woods, but
they used to stand at the dam and watch the water
rush down, bound back, and breaking into millions
of drops fall down again, turn over in the foaming
kettle, and then flow down the stream. There were
no golden fishes above the dam, but whenever
Grandmother went bv she took some crumbs from
her pocket, put them into Adelka’s apron, and when
she threw them into the water, shoals of fishes
appeared at the surface. The silvery white chubs
ventured nearest the surface to chase after the crumbs;
among them darted about the straight-backed
perches, and a little way off glanced here and there
THE GRANDMOTHER. 117

the slender barbels with their long whiskers. One
could also see the broad carps and flat - headed eel-
pouts.

In the meadow, Grandmother met many people,
who greeted her with “ Praised be Jesus Christ!”
or “God grant you a good day?” Then they
stopped and asked: “ Whither bound, Grandma?”
* How do you do?” “ How are your folks?” and
she always heard some news.

But at the castle she was quite bewildered. Here
ran a gallooned waiter, there a chamber maid in
silk; here a lord and there a lord; and each held
his head higher than it grew and strutted about like
the peacocks that alone had the privilege of walk-
ing about on the sward. Whenever any one did
greet Grandmother, he mumbled carelessly, “ Guten
Morgen,” or “Bon Jour,” and she blushed, not
knowing whether she should reply “ For ever,” or
“God grant it?” She used to say: “In that castle,
it is a perfect Babylon.”

Before the castle sat two gallooned servants, one
on each side of the door; the one to the left had his
hands folded in his lap and was staring into space;
the one to the right had his clasped over his breast
and was gaping into the sky. When the party
reached the door, they greeted Mr. Proshek in
German, each with a different accent.

The floor of the entrance hall was of white
marble, and a brilliant table artistically wrought
stood in the middle. Around the walls were
plaster of Paris casts standing on green marble
pedestals, and representing various mythological
characters.

At one of ‘the doors sat the chamberlain in a
118 THE GRANDMOTHER.

swallow-tailed coat; he was asleep. Mr. Proshek
led Grandmother and the children into the hall, and
the chamberlain, hearing some noise, awoke and
seeing who it was, asked Mr. Proshek what
business brought him to the castle.

“Her Grace, the Princess, desired that my
mother should visit her to-day with the children.
I beg you, Mr. Leopold, to announce them,” said
Mr. Proshek.

Mr. Leopold elevated his eyebrows, shrugged
his shoulders, and replied, ‘I do not know whether
the Princess will receive any company to-day; she
is in her cabinet, working; however, I can announce
them.” He arose and very deliberately entered the
door by which he had been watching. Presently
he returned and with a gracious smile motioned the
visitors to enter. Mr. Proshek went back and the
company entered the elegant parlor. The children
held their breath, while their feet slipped upon the
floor, smooth as glass. Grandmother was as ina
vision; she was afraid to step upon the beautiful
rugs. “It is a thousand pities!” she said to herself.
But what could be done? They lay everywhere
and the chamberlain walked upon them. He led
them through the concert hall and library to the
cabinet; then he returned to his post grumbling:
“ Their Lordships have odd whims that one should
be at the service of a common old woman and
children!”

The cabinet of the Princess was decorated with
green hangings inwrought with gold, curtains of
the same stuff were at the door and over one
window, which was as large as a door. Many
pictures of various sizes hung upon the walls, but
THE GRANDMOTHER. 119

all were portraits. Opposite the window was the
fireplace, made of gray marble variegated with
black and green; upon the mantel stood two vases of
Japanese porcelain, holding beautiful flowers whose
perfume filled the whole cabinet. On both sides
were shelves of costly wood, skillfully wrought.
Upon these were laid out various articles, valued
partly for their artistic worth and partly for their
costliness; also natural objects, such as shells,
corals, stones, and the like. Some of these were
souvenirs from journeys, some keepsakes from
friends. In the corner of the room near the
window stood a Carrara marble statute of Apollo,
and in the opposite corner, a writing desk. At this
desk, in an arm chair covered with dark green
plush, sat the Princess, dressed in a white morning-
gown. As Grandmother and the children entered
she laid aside her pen to welcome them.

«“ Praised be Jesus Christ!” said Grandmother,
bowing respectfully.

«“ Forever!” replied the Princess, and welcomed
her guests.

The children were so bewildered that they did
not know what to do, until Grandmother winked
at them, when they went to kiss the hand of the
Princess. She kissed them on the forehead and
motioning to a stool covered with plush and
ornamented with golden tassels, she invited Grand-
mother to sit down.

“T thank your Grace, but I am not tired,” was
the reply. The fact was she was afraid to sit down
lest the stool should break down or roll away with
her. Still, when the Princess asked her again, she
spread her white shawl over the stool and sat
120 THE GRANDMOTHER.

down saying: “So we should not carry away your
Grace’s sleep."* The children stood still and
trembling with awe, but their eyes wandered from
one object to another; the Princess observing this
asked, “ Do you like it here?”

«“ Yes, ma’am,” they replied in chorus.

“No wonder,” added Grandmother. “ They
would find enough here to amuse them and they
would need no coaxing to remain.”

« And you? Would you not like it here, too?”
asked the Princess.

“ It’s like heaven, still I should not want to live
here,” replied Grandmother.

“Why not?” asked the Princess greatly
surprised,

“What should I do here? You have no house-
keeping. Icould not spread out my feathers here
for stripping, nor take my spinning out; what could
I do?”

“ And would you not like to live without care
and labor, and take some comfort in your old
age?”

“ Indeed, it will be soon enough that the sun
shall rise and set over my head, and I shall sleep
free from care. But as long asI live and God
grants me health, it is fitting that I labor. An idler
costs too much when he costs nothing. Besides,
no one is wholly free from care, one has this cross,
another that, but all do not sink beneath its
weight.”

Just then a small hand turned aside the curtain
at the door; and there appeared the lovely face of a

*It is a common belief that if a person does not sit down when
coming into a strange house, its inmates will not sleep well.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 121

young girl, whose head was adorned with long
blonde braids.

«“ May I come in?” she asked.

“ Certainly, you will find pleasant company,”
replied the Princess.

Into the cabinet stepped Countess Hortense, the
ward of the Princess, as was said. Her figure was
slender and undeveloped; she wore a simple white
dress, her round straw hat hung over her arm, and
in her hand she held a bunch of roses. “¢ Oh what
charming little children!’ she exclaimed. “ Surely
they are Proshek’s children, who sent me those de-
licious strawberries yesterday?”

The Princess nodded. The Countess bent down
to give each child a rose; then she gave one to
Grandmother, one to the Princess, and the last she
placed behind her belt.

“This bud is as fresh as yourself, gracious
Countess,” remarked Grandmother smelling the
rose, “may God protect and keep her for you,” she
added turning to the Princess.

«That is my earnest prayer,” replied the
Princess as she kissed the forehead of her ward.

“© May I take the children away for a while?”
asked the Countess looking both at the Princess
and Grandmother. The former nodded, but
Grandmother said they would be a great trouble,
for those boys were like hounds and John was a
regular scapegrace.

But Hortense smiled and offering both her hands
asked: “Do you want to go with me?”

«“ Yes ma’am, yes ma’am!” cried the children in
a chorus, taking hold of her hands. She bowed
both to the Princess and her company and disap-
122 THE GRANDMOTHER.

peared. The Princess then took a silver bell and
rang it; in an instant the chamberlain appeared at
the door. The Princess ordered him to see that
breakfast was served in the small dining room, and
gave him a package of papers to care for. He
bowed and left the room.

While the Princess was speaking with the
chamberlain, Grandmother was looking at the por-
traits upon the walls of the cabinet.

“ O dear Lord!” she exclaimed when Leopold
was gone, “what strange costumes and _ faces!
This lady is dressed just as the late Mrs. Halashkov
used to be dressed,—-may her soul rest in peace!
She used to wear high heeled shoes, a high bonnet,
her petticoats puffed out, and her waist laced so
tight that she looked as if she had been cut in two
by a whip lash. Her husband wasa city alderman
in Dobruska, and when we went there on a pil-
grimage, we saw her at church. Our boys called
her a poppy doll, because in those petticoats and
that powdered head she looked like a poppy blos-
som with the petals turned backwards. They said
it was a French style of dress.”

“That lady is my grandmother,” said the
Princess.

“Indeed? She is a fine lady,” replied Grand-
mother.

“ The picture to the right is my grandfather,
and the left one is my father,” continued the Princess.

“Very nicepeople! Your Grace does not deny
her father; and may I ask, where is your mother?”

“There is my mother and sister,” said the
Princess pointing to two portraits above her writ-
ing desk.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 123

“ A lovely lady, it gives one pleasure to look at
her; but your sister does not resemble either her
father or her mother; it is sometimes the case that
a child takes after some distant relative. The face
of this young man seems familiar to me; I cannot
recollect where I saw it.”

“ That is the Russian Emperor, Alexander, you
did not know him.”

“ Indeed I knew him! why, I stood about twenty
steps from him. He was a handsome man, here
he is somewhat younger, but still I recognized him.
He and the Emperor Joseph were excellent men.”

The Princess motioned to the opposite wall,
where hung a picture,— a life size figure of a man.

“The Emperor Joseph!” exclaimed Grand-
mother clasping her hands. “A perfect likeness!
How you-have them all together! I did not dream
that I should see the Emperor Joseph to-day. God
grant his soul eternal glory; he was a good man,
especially to the poor. This dollar he gave me
with his own hand,” said Grandmother as she drew
the silver dollar from her bosom.

The Princess was pleased with Grandmother’s
simple-heartedness and timely remarks;so she asked
her to relate how the Emperor came to give her the
dollar. Grandmother needed no coaxing and at
once began to tell the story of her dollar. The
Princess laughed heartily. When Grandmother
took another look about the cabinet, she espied the
portrait of King Frederic.

«“ Why, this is the King of Prussia!” she ex-
claimed. “I knew that ruler well,too. My late hus- -
band George served in the Prussian army, and I
spent fifteen years in Silesia. Once he had George
124 THE GRANDMOTHER.

called out of the ranks to him, and made him pre-
sents. He liked tall men, and my George was the
tallest man in the regiment and well grown, like a
maiden. Little did I think that I should look down
into his grave! a man like a rock, and he is gone
long ago and I am still here.” She sighed and
wiped the tears from her wrinkled cheeks.

“ Did your husband fall in battle?” asked the
Princess.

“‘ Not exactly, but he died from the effects of a
wound received in battle. When that rebellion
broke out in Poland, and the Prussian King with
the Russians invaded the country, our regiment
was with them. I followed the army with my chil-
dren; we had two then, the third was born in the
field. That is Johanna, who is now in Vienna;and
I think that she is so courageous a girl, because
from her birth she had to become accustomed to all
sorts of hardships like a soldier. That was an un-
fortunate battle. After the first skirmish my hus-
band was brought to me into the tent. A cannon
ball had taken off his leg. They cut it off. I
took all the care of him that was possible. As soon
as he was a little better, he was sent back to Neisse.
I was rejoiced. I hoped that when he got well
they would not want him as a cripple, and that we
could return to Bohemia. But my hopes were dis-
appointed. He began to fail, and nothing could be
done. I knew that he must die. What little
money I had I gave for medicines and yet he was
not helped. It seemed to me that I must lose my
reason or that my heart must break from grief.
But a person can endure much. I was left with
three orphans, not a penny of money, and but lit-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 125

tle clothing. In that same regiment there was a
certain Lehotsky, who was my _ husband’s best
friend. He took me up, and when I told him I
could weave blankets, he got mea loom and set
me up in the trade. May God reward him! What
I had learned in my youth asa pastime now did me
good service. My work sold well, so that I soon
paid off my debt to Lehotsky, and supported my-
self and the children comfortably. Although there
were very good people in that town, I was very
lonesome, and from the time my husband died I
felt as forsaken as a pear tree in a grain field. * I
often thought I should be better off at home, and
one day I broached the subject to Lehotsky. He
discouraged the thought and assured me that I
should certainly get a pension and that the King
would care for my children. I was thankful, but
finally decided to return home. The German lan-
guage was a great obstacle tome. While we were
at Glatz, I was better off, for there Bohemian was
spoken more than German; but at Neisse, it was
just the opposite, and I could not learn that lan-
guage. Hardly had we made ourselves comfortable
when the flood came. Water is a fearful element
when it becomes angry; one can not escape it even
on horseback.

“It came so suddenly that people barely escaped
with their lives. I quickly picked up what I could,
tied the bundle upon my back, took the youngest
child in my arms, held the elder two by the hands,
and so we fled, wading to our ankles in the water.
Lehotsky came to our assistance, led us to the

*In Bohemia, one often sees a solitary pear tree in the field; so that
the phrase ‘‘as lonely as a pear tree ina field’ has become a common
saying.
126 THE GRANDMOTHER.

higher town, where good people received us kindly
and gave us shelter.

«“ The report soon spread through the town that
I had lost almost everything, and these good people
at once came to my aid. The commander of the
regiment sent for me, and told me that I should get
several dollars a year and steady work; that the
boy would be taken intoa military school, and I could
place the girls inthe Royal Institute for Women.
This did not comfort me at all, and I begged them,
if they wished to show me some kindness, to give
me a little money so that I could return to Bohemia,
I said I would not part with my children, that |
should bring them up in my faith and language.
This they would by no means permit, and told me
that if I did not remain there, I should get nothing.
‘If nothing, then nothing,’ thought I, ‘God will
not leave us to perish from hunger,’ and so I
thanked the King for all, and left.”

“I think your children would have been well:
provided for,” observed the Princess.

“ Very likely, your Grace; but they would have
become estranged. Who would have taught them
to love their home and their mother tongue? No-
body. They would have learned a strange language,
strange customs, and finally would have forgotten
their own kin. How could I then justify myself
before God? No, no, who is born of Bohemian
blood, let him learn to speak the Bohemian tongue!
I asked for permission to leave, picked up the little
clothing I had left, took my children and bade fare-
well to the town where I had seen so many bitter,
as well as happy days. The housekeeper loaded
my children with as much food as they could carry
THE GRANDMOTHER. 1247

and gave me several dollars for the journey. May
God repay their children what good those people
did to me! Poor Lehotsky went with us about six
miles, carrying Johanna. He was sorry we were
going away, for our house was always like a home
to him. At parting we both wept. While he
remained at Neisse, he went regularly to George’s
grave to pray a Pater-noster; they loved each other
as brothers. He lost his life in the French war.
God grant his soul eternal rest!”

“And how did you get to Bohemia with those
children?” asked the Princess.

““We suffered much on the journey, gracious
lady. Not knowing the way, we wasted much time
wandering about to no purpose. Our feet were
covered with bloody blisters, and often we cried
from hunger, weariness and pain, when we could
find no habitation. We got safe to Kladrau Hills,
and there I felt quite at home. I came from
Olesnic near the borders of Silesia, but I suppose
your Grace doesn’t know where that is. When I
was near home, another burden began to weigh
upon my heart. I wondered whether my parents
were still living, and how they would receive me.
When I left home they had given me a good outfit,
and now I was returning with empty hands and
bringing them three orphans. ‘What will they say
to me?’ That question kept sounding in my ears.
I feared, too, that some sad change might have
taken place in the two years during which I had
not heard from them.”

«“ And did you never write to them, at least your
husband, if not you?” wondered the Princess.

«“ The custom of sending letters is not common
128 THE GRANDMOTHER.

among us. We think of each other, pray for each
other, and as we have opportunity, we send word
by some friend how each one is doing. A person
doesn’t know where such a letter may go, and into
whose hands it may fall. My father used to write
letters to soldiers who went from our village and
were somewhere far beyond the boundaries, so that
their parents might find out whether they were
alive or not, or when they wanted to send them a
little money. But when they returned, they said
they never got anything, and so it is, your Grace;
when a letter comes from a person of the lower
classes, it is very apt to remain here or there.”

“You are mistaken, my good woman,” quickly
said the Princess, “ every letter, let it come from
whom it will, must come into the hands of the
person to whom it is addressed. No one can keep
it or open it, there 1s a severe penalty for this.”

“It is a proper thing, and I gladly believe it;
but after all, we prefer to confide in some good
friend. Upon such a bit of paper one cannot put
everything, and the reader would like to know this
and that, and there is nobody there to ask; but
when one of those good pilgrims or peddlers comes
along, he tells everything word for word. I, too,
should have heard more about my folks, but on
account of those disturbances, there was very little
travel.

“Tt was dark when we arrived in the village. It
was summer and I knew that at that hour they
would be at supper. We left the road and went
through the orchard so as not to be observed. The
dogs came out from our house and barked at us; I
called them but they only barked the louder. The
THE GRANDMOTHER. 129

tears filled my eyes, my heart felt heavy,—for the
moment I forgot that it was fifteen years since I
had left home and that they were not the same dogs
that we had then. In the orchard, I noticed many
young trees, the fence was repaired, the barn had
a new roof, but the pear tree under which George
and I used to sit, had been touched by Ged’s mes-
senger (lightning) and its top was gone. At the
cottage near by there was no change; it had been
taken by father from the late Widow Novotny for
an annuity. She was the woman that made those
woolen blankets, and my husband was her son.

“There was a little garden near the cottage, for
she always liked to have a bed of parsley, onions,
some little corner of sweet balsams, sage,.and such
herbs as are needed in the household. George made
her a fence of wicker work areund the garden.
That same fence was there still, but the ground had
been neglected and allowed to run to grass; only a
few onions were still seen. An old dog, half-blind,
crawled out of his kennel. ‘Old: fellow, do you
know me?’ I said to him, and the brute began to
rub himself about my feet. To be recognized and
welcomed by this dumb animal touched: me so that
I burst into tears.

«“ The children, poor things! looked-at me wonder-
ing why I wept. I had not told them that we were
going to their grandmother’s; for I thought that if
my parents should be displeased with me, the child-
ren must not know it. Caspar, the oldest, asked:
‘Why do you cry, mother? shan’t we get anight’s
lodging here? Sit down and rest. We can wait;
then I shall carry the bundle for you We are not
hungry.’ Both Johanna and Theresa agreed with

9
130 THE GRANDMOTHER.

him, but I knew they were hungry, for we had
gone several hours on our journey without coming
upon any habitation.

“No, my children, that isnot why I am weeping,’
I replied. ‘We have reached our journey’s end;
here in this house your father was born, your moth-
erin that one yonder. This is the home of your
grandparents. Let us thank God for bringing us
home safe, and pray that we may receive a fatherly
welcome.” The prayer finished, we went to the
cottage, for I remembered that my parents lived
there, having given the homestead to my brother
for an annuity. Upon the outside of the door was
still pasted the picture that George had brought his
mother from the Vamberitz shrine, —the Virgin
with the fourteen helpers.* A burden fell from
my heart as soon asI saw it. I thought: ‘ They
blessed me when I left, and welcome me as I return;’
and much comforted I entered the house with confi-
dence. ;

“ Father, mother, and old Betsey sat at the table
eating soup out of one dish,—it was milk soup
thickened with flour and egg. I remember it as if
it were yesterday. ‘Praised be Jesus Christ!’ I
said. ‘For ever’ was the reply. ‘ May I beg for
a night’s lodging for myself and these children?
We come from far, we are tired and hungry,’ I
said, my voice trembling with emotion. They did
not recognize me; it was somewhat dark in the
room ‘Lay down your baggage, and sit down by
the table!’ said father and laid aside his spoon.
‘ Betsey,’ said mother, ‘ go cook some more soup.
In the meantime, sit down, mother, take some bread

» Saints.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 131

and give the children. Then we will take you to
sleep up in the garret. Where do you come
from?’

“¢ Clear from Silesia, from Niesse,’ I replied.
‘Indeed! That’s where our Madaline is,’ cried
father. ‘I beg you, my good woman, didn’t you
hear anything of her?’ asked mother approaching
me closely, ‘ Madaline Novotny, her husband is a
soldier. She is our daughter, and we haven’t heard
for two years what she is doing and how she is.
I’ve had bad dreams lately; not long ago I dreamed
that I lost a tooth; so I have that girl and her chil-
dren on my mind constantly, and I wonder whether
something has not happened to George, since they
have those battles all the time. God only knows
why those men cannot let each other alone!’

“T wept, but the children hearing their grand-
mother speaking thus, pulled at my skirt and asked:
«Mamma, are these our grandmother and grand-
father?’ As soon as they said this mother recog-
nized me and fell upon my neck, and father took
the children into his arms; and then we told each
other every thing that had happened. Betsey ran
to fetch brother and sister, sister-in-law and
brother - in-law, and before long the whole village
was together, and not only my relatives and old
friends, but everybody else welcomed me as though
I had been a sister to them all. ‘You did well to
return home with those children,’ said father; ‘ true,
the earth is the Lord’s, but one’s own country is
always dearest, as ours is to us, and thus it should be.
As long as God gives us bread, neither you nor your
children shall suffer, even if you cannot work.
‘That which befell you is indeed a heavy blow, but
132 THE GRANDMOTHER.

lay it aside! Think: “Whom God loveth he
chastiseth.””

«“ Thus I was again among them, and was as their
own. My brother offered to let me have a room in
his house, but I preferred to remain with my par-
ents in the cottage where my husband had lived.
The children soon were entirely at home, and my
parents loved them dearly. I sent them regularly
to school. When I was young, girls did not learn
to write; it was thought enough if they could read
a little, and that only the town girls. And yet it
is a great pity and a sin when a person has the gift
of the Holy Ghost and does not improve it. When,
however, there is no opportunity, what is one to do?
My husband was a man who knew the world, he
knew how to write, too; in short, he was fit for a
wagon or acarriage. And that is well; every-body
might be so!

“T wove blankets as before and earned many a
handsome groschen. Those were hard times—
war, disease, and famine everywhere. A bushel of
rye cost a hundred guilders in bank notes! that is
something to say. But God loved us, and soin one
way and another we managed to pull through.
The distress was so great that people went about
with money in their hands unable to buy My
father was a man whose like is seldom found; he
helped every-body where and how he could. When
the neighbors were driven to the last extremity, they
usually turned to him. Sometimes the poorer peas-
ants came to him saying: ‘Let us have a bushel
of rye; we haven’t a crust of bread in the house!’
He would say: ‘As long as I have, I give; when
I have no more, others will do it, and at once
THE GRANDMOTHER. 133

mother was sent to fill the bag. Money, however,
he would not take, no, indeed! ‘Why, we are
neighbors, and if we do not help each other, who
will help us? When God blesses your harvest, re-
turn the grain and we shall be even.’ Thus it was
that father had thousands of ‘God repay you's!’
And mother was the same. Why,she would have
gone to the cross roads to look for a beggar,if none
happened to come along. And why should we not
help people! We had enough to eat, enough to
wear; why should we not share the remainder with
others? This is no merit, but merely a Christian
duty. But when a person denies himself to help
others, that is a real virtue. Indeed, it came to that
pass that we ate only once a day, that others might
have something, too. And we stood it until the
sun shone again. Peace returned to the land, and
times grew better and better.

“When Casper finished his schooling he wanted
to learn weaving, and I did not object. A trade is
a master. When his apprenticeship was finished,
he went into the world. My husband used to say
that a tradesman rolled out on the oven* wasn’t
worth a kreutzer.

“After several years he returned, settled at
Dobrusitz, and is doing well. The girls I trained
carefully to do housework. About this time, my
cousin from Vienna came into the village; she took
a liking to Theresa and said she would take her to
Vienna and care for her. It was very hard for me
to part from her, but I thought it would not be
right for me to stand in the way of her good for-
tune. Dorothy is a good woman; they are well -

* Who never goes away from home.
134 THE GRANDMOTHER.

to-do and have no children. She cared for Theresa
as for her own child, and when she married gave
her a good outfit. At first I was somewhat vexed
that she chose a German, but now I do not mind
it. John is a good and worthy man, and we man-
age to understand each other. And the children
—they are mine. Johanna went to Dorothy in
Theresa’s place, and she, too, is well pleased with
her home. This new generation is quite different
from the last. I never wanted to go away from
home, especially among strangers.

“ After a few years my parents died only six
weeks apart. They left the world quietly as a
candle is blown out. God did not leave them to
suffer, and they did not mourn for each other long;
they had lived together for sixty years. Soft they
made their bed, and softly they rest. God grant
them eternal glory!”

“ Were you not lonesome when all your children
left you?” asked the Princess.

“ Well, your Grace, blood is not water. At
times I shed many tears, but I would not sully the
children’s happiness by complaining. Besides, I
was not alone. Children continue to be born, and
one can always find something to occupy one’s
mind. When I saw the neighbor’s children grow-
ing up from childhood to maturity, it seemed as if
they were my own. If we but have hearts that
feel for others, we shall find that others love us, too.
My children urged me to go to Vienna. I knew I
should find good people there and that I would be
well provided for; but it isa great distance, and
travel is hard for one so old. Then suppose God
should think of me; after all, I want my bones to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 135

rest among my old friends and relatives. But, your

Grace, pardon my simplicity; I am talking as if I
were at a spinning bee,” said Grandmother. rising
from her seat.

** Not at all, my dear woman, your story is very
interesting to me, and you cannot think how grate-
ful I am to you,” said the Princess, laying her hand
on Grandmother’s shoulder. “ Now come with me
to breakfast. By this time, I suppose the children
are hungry.’ So saying she led Grandmother out
of the cabinet into the dining room, where: coffee,
chocolate, and various delicacies were awaiting
them. The chamberlain stood there waiting to re-
ceive orders; the Princess sent him to bring the
Countess and the children.

’ In a few moments they came rushing in, exclaim-
ing: “ O Grandma! see what the Countess Hortense
gave us!” Each tried to be the first to show the
pretty gift he had received.

“ How beautiful! In all my life I never saw
anything like it; I hope you did not forget to thank
her?”

The children nodded.

“JT wonder what Manchinka will say when she
sees this? and Cilka. and Vaclav?” said Grand-
mother.

«© Who are Manchinka and Cilka, and Vaclav?”
asked the Princess.

“TI can tell you that, dear Princess; the children
told me,” said the Countess. “Manchinka is the
miller’s daughter, and Cilka and Vaclav are the
children of a certain organ grinder, and' he has four
besides. Barunka says they eat cats, squirrels, and
crows, and all the people shun them.”
136 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“‘ Wihy, because they are poor, or because they
eat cats and squirrels? ” asked the Princess.

“ On account of the latter,” replied Grandmother.

“ Well squirrel is not bad food, I have tasted it
myself,” said the Princess.

“But, your Grace, there is a great difference
between eating something as a delicacy and eating
it out of necessity. The organ grinder himself is
provided with a good stomach, the children as a
matter ef course need a great deal, and all must
come out of that music. ‘It is but natural, — they
have little for the outside, little for the inside, and
the house is as bare as the palm of the hand.”

While this conversation was going on, the
Princess took her seat at the table, Hortense placed
the children on each side of herself, and Grand-
mother was obliged to sit down, too. The Countess
wanted to pour her out some coffee or chocolate,
but she said she did not drink coffee nor that other
beverage.

“Then what do you have for breakfast?” asked
the Princess.

“From my childhood, I have been accustomed
to eat soup, mostly sour; in the mountains we like
that the best. Sour soup and potatoes for breakfast,
potatoes and sour soup for dinner, supper the same;
‘Sundays we usually had, in addition to the soup
and potatoes, a slice of oaten bread. This is the
regular fare of people living in the Riesengebirge,
and they are thankful when they have enough of
it; for in hard times they are glad to get a little
bran. Further in the interior, people have peas,
whiter.flour, cabbage, and sometimes a little meat;
they live well! But the poor must not accustom
THE GRANDMOTHER. 137

themselves to dainties, else they would soon be at
the end of their means. Besides, such things are
not nourishing.”

“There you are mistaken. Such victuals are
very nourishing, and if those people could have a
little meat each day and some good drink, they
would gain more strength than all those other things
put together could give them,” replied the Princess.

“Well, well, one learns something new every
day. I always imagined that the wealthy classes
were so thin and pale because they lived on deli-
cacies that were not nourishing.”

The Princess smiled, but said nothing. She
handed Grandmother a small glass of sweet wine
saying as she did so: “ Drink, good woman, drink,
this will warm you and do you good.”

Grandmother raised the glass, saying: “ To your
Grace’s health!” and drank a little; she also took
some pastry so her hostess should not be offended.

“What is that the Princess is eating out of those
shells?” asked John in a whisper of Hortense.

“ They are little creatures from the sea and
are called oysters,” was the reply.

“T don’t think Cilka would eat them,” added
John.

“Various things are good for food, and there
are various tastes,” explained the Countess.

While they were thus talking, Barunka slipped
something into Grandmother’s pocket, whispering:
“Hide it for me, Grandma; it’s money. Miss
Hortense gave it to me for Kuderna’s children. I
might lose it, you see.”

The Princess overheard what Barunka said and
her eye rested upon the Countess with inexpressible
138 THE GRANDMOTHER.

pleasure. Grandmother, too, was so pleased that
she could not remain silent; so turning to the young
lady, she said: “ May God bless you, dear Countess!”
Hortense blushed, and turning shook her finger at
Barunka, whose face in turn became crimson.

“Won't they be delighted! Now they can
clothe themselves.”

“We will add something to it, so they can help
themselves in other things, too,” added the Princess.

“It would be an act of charity, if you could help
these people, but not with alms,” said Grandmother.

“ How then? ”

“As long as Kuderna behaves well, he should
have steady work; I think that would be all the
time, for he is both honest and willing. God
reward you for all. But alms, your Grace, help
such people only for a time. They buy various
things, often what is unnecessary; and when those
are eaten and worn out, they are as badly off as ever
and dare not come to ask for more. But if Kuderna
had some steady employment, he would be helped,
and your Grace would be profited, if she gained a
good laborer and a faithful servant. Besides, it
would be doing an act of charity.”

“You are right; but what employment could I
give him,— a musician?”

“O your Grace, that is not difficult. He would
be delighted to be a watchman either of your fields
or forests. Besides, he could carry his organ with
him, as he usually does, to cheer himself up. Oh,
they are a merry crew!” added Grandmother.

«“T shall see what can be done for him,” said the
Princess.

“O my dear, good Princess!” exclaimed Hor-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 139

tense, as she arose to kiss the hand of the bene-
factress.

“Only the good are accompanied by angels,”
said Grandmother glancing at the lady and her ward.

The Princess was silent a moment, then said
deeply moved: “TI shall never cease to thank God
for giving her tome.” Then turning to Grand-
mother she said: “I should be pleased to have a
friend who would always tell me the truth in a
direct and sincere manner.”

“OQ your Grace, should you desire it, such a
friend can readily be found; but it is not easy to
keep him.”

“You think I would not value him?”

«© Why should I think so? but that is the way it
usually is. Sometimes such frank conversation is
agreeable and then again it is not; and then that is
the end of friendship.”

“ You are right. But from this day you have
the privilege of saying to me, whatever you wish;
and should you have a petition, rest assured I shall
grant it, if only it be in my power.” Saying this
the Princess rose from the table; the rest did the
same.- Grandmother bent down to kiss the hand of
her hostess, but the latter would not allow it and
kissed Grandmother’s cheek instead. Thechildren
picked up their gifts, and with much reluctance
prepared to go home.

«Come to see us, too, Miss Hortense,” said
Grandmother as she took Adelka from her arms.

" & Yes, come,” echoed the children. “ We will
gather strawberries for you.”

“I thank your Grace for all,—God be with
you,” said Grandmother taking her leave.
140 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ Depart with God!” said the Princess bowing.
The Countess accompanied them to the door.

The chamberlain, coming to clear the table, ele-
vated his eyebrows as if he would say: “ A strange
whim! Such a lady amuse herself with an old
granny!”

The Princess, however, stood by the window
watching the departing ones as long as the chil-
dren’s white frocks and Grandmother’s dove-knot
could be seen through the green foilage. Return-
ing to her cabinet she whispered: “Happy wo-
man!”
CHAPTER VII.

HE meadow belonging to the castle is cov-
ered with flowers; in the middle of the
meadow is a knoll covered with a dense growth
of wild thyme. In the wild thyme Adelka is sit-
ting as in a bed; she is watching a lady-bug, which
runs hither and thither over her lap, from her lap
upon her leg, and from her leg upon her green
boot. “Don’t run away, little one; stay here, I won’t
harm you,” says the child, picking up the bug and
placing it back upon her lap.

Not far from Adelka, John and Willie are sit-
ting by an ant hill watching the busy little creatures
at their work. “Look, Willie! how they hurry
about. And see! this one lost an egg, and this second
one picked it up and is carrying it away into the hill.”

« Wait, I have a piece of bread in my pocket; I
will give them a crumb, to see what they'll do?”
He took the bread from his pocket and placed it
in their way. “Look! look! how they rush to it,
and wonder where it came from. And see! they
are pushing it further and further. Doyou see the
others coming from all directions? but how do the
others know there is something here?”

Just then they were interrupted by a pleasant
voice, which asked: “What are you doing here?”

It was the Countess Hortense riding upon a
white pony; she had come close to them without
being observed.

141
142 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“T have a lady-bug,” said Adelka, showing her
closed hand to the Countess, who had dismounted
and approached her.

“‘ Let me see it?”

Adelka opened her hand, but it was empty.
“Oh, my! it ran away,” said the child frowning.

“Wait, it isn’t gone yet,” said the Countess; and
she carefully picked up the lady-bug from the little
girl’s bare shoulder. “ What will you do with it?”

“TI will let it fly away. Now watch, how it
will go!” Adelka placed the lady-bug upon her
palm, raised her hand, and said: “ Pinko linko,
pinko linko, fly away into God’s window.”

“Go, go, not so slow!” added Willie, giving
Adelka a slight stroke upon the hand.

At that instant the lady-bug raised its red-spot-
ted cloak, spread out the delicate wings that had
been folded under it, and flew away into the sky.

“© Why did you push it?” scolded Adelka.

“So it should go the sooner,” laughed the boy,
and turning to Hortense, he took her by the hand
saying: “Come, Miss Hortense, come to see the
ants. I gave them a bit of bread, and there are
swarms of them around it!”

The Countess put her hand into the pocket of
her black plush jacket, and brought out a piece of
sugar; handing it to Willie she said: ‘« Place this
in the grass and you will see how, in an instant,
they will surround it. They like sweet things.”

Willie obeyed, and when he saw how in a very
short time the ants, running from all sides, sur-
rounded the sugar, carrying away the tiniest bits,
he was greatly surprised and asked the Countess:
«“ Tell me, Miss Hortense, how do these ants know
THE GRANDMOTHER. 143

there is something good here, and what are they
doing with those eggs that they carry in and out
of the hill all the time?”

“ The eggs are their children, and those that carry
them are the guardians and nurses. When the day
is warm they carry them out of their dark cham-
bers into the sunshine, so that they may be warmed
up and grow better.”

“ And where are their mammas?” asked Adelka.

“They are in the house, laying eggs, so that
the ants shall not die out. The fathers walk about
them, talk with them, and cheer them up, to keep
them from being lonesome; and the other ants, that
you see running about, are the workers.”

« And what do they do?” asked John.

“ They gather food, build and repair the house,
take care of the pupas,—the growing children,—and
keep the house clean; when one of their number
dies, they carry him away; they stand guard, that no
enemy may come upon them unawares, and fight to
protect the colony. All this is done by the workers.”

“ How do they understand each other when they
cannot speak?”

« Although they, have not such a language as
people use, still they understand each other. Did
you not observe how the first one that found the
sugar at once went and told the others, and how
they came running from all directions? See how
when they meet they touch one another with their
feelers, as if they said a few words in passing; and
groups of them are standing in various places as if
they were discussing something.”

“In those hills, have they parlors and kitchens? ”
asked Adelka.
144 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“They do not need kitchens, for they do not
cook; but they have chambers for the children and
the mothers, halls for the workers, and their houses
have several stories, with passages from one story
to another in the inside of the hill.”

“ How do they know how to build it so it will not
break down?” asked Willie.

“‘ Indeed, they build well, and when no stronger
power breaks down their house it lasts as long as
they need it. They make the walls and rafters out
of tiny chips, straws, dry leaves, grass and earth.
They dampen the earth in their mouths, knead it,
and use it as masons do bricks. They like best to
build when the mist is falling, for then the ground
is just damp enough for their use.”

“Who taught these creatures all this?” again
asked the little boy.

“ God gives these creatures something that we
call instinct, by which they know what to do with-
out being taught. Some show so much skill and
wisdom in the management of their households and
providing for their wants, that it seems like human
reason. When you go to school and learn how to
use books, you will learn all such things as I have
learned them,” added the Countess.

While they were thus talking, Grandmother
and Barunka came, bringing their aprons full of
flowers and their arms full of herbs that they had
gathered in the meadow. The children began to
tell what they had learned about the ants, and the
Countess asked what they were going to do with
all those herbs. ;

«This, dear Countess, is some caraway and some
agrimony. The caraway is dried, the seeds used in
THE GRANDMOTHER. 145

“joking and in bread, and the straw for the
“\ildren’s bath; the agrimony is very useful as a
Sirgle for sore throat. The neighbors know I
a'vays have on hand some of these medicinal
“‘bs, so they send to me when they need them.
At is well to have something of this kind in the
kse, for if one does not need it oneself, it may be
°F 4se to others.”
“Is there no apothecary in the village?” asked
the: Countess.
2 “Not in the village, but in the town, an hour’s
journ.y from the village. But suppose it were in
the vijage! A Latin kitchen is an expensive
kitchen, and why should we pay dearly for what
we can lake ourselves?”

“TI suphose the physician gives you a recipe how
you are to byepare the medicine? ”

“No, indes.q! What would a person come to, if
he called in a p hysician for every little illness! He
lives an hour’s J ney from here, and it would be
about half a day bufore he would come after he

was called; in the meauime the patient might die,
if there were no domestic r€.medies. And when he

comes, what a fuss! Several skinds of medicines,
plasters, leeches, and what now? The family
become almost distracted, and the Paxtient is sure to
become worse from fright. I do nd&¢ believe in
doctors; my herbs have always proved su\@icient for
me and the children. Still, when others ‘\are ill, I
say, ‘send for the doctor.’ But when God ees one
with heavy illness, the doctors themselves kie-.

not what to do, but leave nature to take her course.
And after all, God is the best physician; if one is
to live, he will get well without the aid of the

10

 
  
146 THE GRANDMOTHER.

doctors, and if he is to die, the whole apothec’Y
shop cannot save him.”

“ Are all those in your apron medicinal hert
asked the Countess.”

“Oh, no, Miss Hortense,” replied Bari nka
quickly ; “ these in our aprons are flowers for garl:"°*
Tomorrow is Corpus Christi, and Manchinka <”
are to march in the procession and carry garlar@*

“ And I, too, I am going with Hela,” aided
Adelka. ;

« And we are to be little peasants!” exc] aimed
the boys.

“ Who is Hela?” asked the Countess.

“ Hela.is from town; she is the daught&€ of my
godmother, who lives in that big house tl4t has the
lion on it.” - .

“You should say from the hote™ explained
Grandmother. ‘ :

“ Miss Hortense, will you go t°? the procession,
too?” asked Barunka.

“ Certainly,” replied, the young lady, as she
seated herself in the grac» and began to help sort
the flowers. é

“ Did you evrer carry garlands on Corpus
Christi?” furthezr asked Barunka.

“ No; but: while I lived in Florence I once car-
ried a garleand upon a festival of the Madonna.”

« Whe» is the Madonna?”

«“ Maadonna is what they call the Virgin in
Italy,.” .

“4 Miss Hortense then comes from Italy? Is it
where our soldiers are now quartered?” asked
Grandmother.

“Yes; but not in Florence, the city I come

229?
3?

2
THE GRANDMOTHER. 1497

from. That is the place where they make those
beautiful hats from rice straw. There rice and corn
grow, and sweet chestnuts and olives are found in
the woods. One can see groves of cypress and
laurel, beautiful flowers, and a blue, unclouded sky.”

“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Barunka, “that is
the city you have painted in your room, is it not,
Miss Hortense? In the middle is a wide river, and
above the river, on a high hill, is built the city. O
Grandma, such beautiful houses and churches! On’
one side are so many small houses and gardens; by
one of those houses a little girl is playing; by her
side sits an old lady,—they are Miss Hortense
and her nurse; isn’t itso? You told us that while
we were at the castle,” asked Barunka turning to
the Countess.

The Countess did not reply at once; she was
buried in deep thought and her hands lay motion-
less upon her lap. At last she said with a deep
sigh: “Oh bella patria! Oh cara amica!” and her
eyes filled with tears.

“What did you say, Miss Hortense?” asked the
inquisitive Adelka, lovingly leaning to the young
lady.

Hortense bent her head upon the head of the
child, and did not try to restrain the tears that fell
down her cheeks into her lap.

“ Miss Hortense thinks of her home and her
relatives, said Grandmother; you children do not
know what it is to leave the home of your child-
hood. However one may: prosper elsewhere one
can never forget it. You, too, will sometime learn
to understand this. Has your Ladyship any rela-
tives in Florence? ”
148 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ None; I have no relatives that I know of in
the whole world,” replied the Countess sadly.
“Giovanna, my good nurse, still lives in Italy,
and at times I feel very lonely and long to see
her and my old home. But the Princess, my
second mother, has promised to take me there
soon.”

“How did the Princess come to know you,
when you lived so far away?”

«She and my mother were good friends, having
known each other for many years. My father was
wounded at the battle of Leipsic, and returned to
his villa in Florence, where in a few years he died
from the effects of his injury. This I learned from
Giovanna. My mother grieved so much that she,
too, died and left me, a poor little orphan, all alone
in the world. When the Princess heard of it, she
came to Florence and would have taken me with
her, but for my nurse who loved me dearly. So
she left me with her and placed the villa and all
within it in her charge. My nurse brought me up,
being both a mother and teacher to me.

“When I was grown up the Princess took me
to herself. Oh, I love her dearly, as I should have
loved my own mother.”

“Yes, and the Princess loves you as her own
child, too,” said Grandmother; “I saw it when I
was at the castle, and it made me think very highly
of her. This reminds me of the Kudernas. When
Barunka gave them that money from you, they
almost jumped to the ceiling with joy; but when
the father heard that he was selected to be watch-
man of your fields, his amazement and delight
were too great to be expressed. As long as they
THE GRANDMOTHER. 149

live they will not forget to pray for you and for
her Grace, the Princess.”

“For all that, they have no one to thank but
you, Grandma, and your good word,” said the
Countess.

“Yes, but what would it have profited if that
good word had not fallen upon good ground? no
blessing could have come from it,” replied Grand-
mother. 2

The bouquets arranged, Grandmother and the
children were ready to start for home.

“Tl go with you to the cross-road,” said the
Countess, taking her pony by the bridle. “If you
wish, boys, you may have a short ride.”

The boys gave a shout of delight, and in an
instant John was upon the saddle.

“O, that’s a madcap!” said Grandmother seeing
how boldly he acted. ‘Willie, too, acted as though
he were not afraid, but when the Countess helped
him to mount, he turned red clear to his ears, and
only when John laughed at him did he become
more courageous. Little Adelka, too, was seated
upon the pony, but the Countess walked by her
side and held her. The children were delighted,
but the boys laughed at her, said she sat up there
like a midget, like a little monkey, and made fun
of her until Grandmother ordered them to be
still.

At the cross-roads the Countess. herself mounted
her white pony, dropped her blue skirt down over
the stirrups, fastened her black hat, and once more
bowing to Grandmother and the children rode
away. As soon as her pony heard the order
“ Avanti!” he flew with her through the rows of
150 THE GRANDMOTHER.

trees like a sparrow. Grandmother and the chil-
dren slowly wended their way to The Old Bleachery.

The next day was beautiful, the sky was as
clear as if it had been swept. Before the house
stood a carriage; in the carriage were John and
Willie in white trousers and red jackets, and hold-
ing garlands in their hands. Mr. Proshek stood
admiring the fine horses, patting their shining hips,
or playing with their luxuriant manes, and with a
practiced eye studying their harness. From time
to time he stepped toward the house, calling into
the window: “ Are you not ready yet? Do hurry
up! ”

“In a minute, father, in a minute!” voices from
the inside reply; but that “minute” proves to be a
long while. Finally Grandmother sallies out with
the little girls, among whom is Manchinka. They
are followed by Mrs. Proshek, Betsey, and Vorsa.
«“ Take good care of everything and don’t neglect
the poultry,” said Grandmother as she was starting.

Sultan wanted to play with Adelka; he smelled
her garland, but she raised it above her head, while
Grandmother drove him away, saying: “ You fool-
ish fellow, don’t you see Adelka cannot play with
you to-day?”

“© They look like angels,” said Betsey to Vorsa,
as the girls were getting into the carriage.

Mr. Proshek mounted to the box beside the
coachman, gathered up the reins, and made a
peculiar smacking noise with his lips; upon which
the horses raised their heads proudly, and the car-
riage rattled off to the mill as if carried by the
wind. The dogs started to follow, but when the
master shook his whip at them, they turned back to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 151

the house, stretched themselves in the sun at the
door, and soon began to snore.

How beautiful it is in the city! ‘The houses are
decorated with greens, the streets are covered with
rushes, and the oval-shaped common is like a grove.
Along the sides of the common altars are set up,
each more beautiful than the last. In the middle,
where stands the statue of St. John under the green
lindens, is a mortar, around which are gathered a
group of boys and young men.

“They are going to shoot from that,” said Mr.
Proshek to the children. ,

“Oh, I shall be afraid!” exclaimed Adelka.

“ Why should you be afraid, it won’t make any
more noise than when a pot falls from the shelf,”
said Manchinka to reassure the little girl.

Such sounds Adelka was accustomed to hear at
home, so she was satisfied.

The carriage stopped at a large house, upon
which hung a shield with a white lion and a large
bunch of grapes.

The party were met at the door by Mr. Stanicky,
who, raising his plush cap decorated with a long
tassel, welcomed them warmly. Mrs. Stanicky, in
her silver embroidered cap and short silk basque,
smiled graciously upon the comers, and: when little
Hela tried to hide behind her, she took her by the
hand, and seizing Adelka with the other placed
them side by side, saying: “Come, show yourself,
that we may see how vou will look together!”

«“ Like twins,” decided Grandmother, The little
girls cast sidelong glances at each other, but again
bashfully hung their heads.

Mr. Stanicky gave his arm to Mr. Proshek, and
152 THE GRANDMOTHER.

entering the house urged the rest to follow. “ Before
the procession begins we can have a chat over a
glass of wine,” he said cheerily.

Mrs. Proshek went, but Grandmother remained
outside with the children. She said: “ You have
time enough, since you go with the nobility, but if
I wait, the church will be so crowded that I never
can get in. I shall stay here with the children.”
She remained standing by the door.

In a few moments two little boys with red jack-
ets were seen turning the corner, then two more,
and John cried out: “ They are coming!”

“ Adelka, and you, Hela, when you march in the
procession, look well before you, so you do not
stumble over something and fall, and you, Barunka,
keep an eye onthem. You, boys, behave well, lest
an accident happen with the lights! When you
are in the church at the altar, pray earnestly so that
God will be pleased with you and bless you!”

_ While Grandmother was thus admonishing the
children the schoolmaster came up with his pupils.

“Good morning, sir; I bring you an addition to
your party. I hope you will have patience with
these little ones.”

«“ They are welcome, Grandma,” replied the old
schoolmaster smiling ; “ you see I have them here hit
and miss, some large, some small,” and while speak-
ing he found places for the children in the proces-
sion.

When they reached the church, the children
took their places near the altar, but Grandmother
remained near the door with some neighbors. The
last bell rang and the people hurried into the church
from all directions. The sexton gave the boys that
THE GRANDMOTHER. 153

represented farmers lighted candles to hold, the
small bell rang, the priest stepped to the altar, the
mass began. The little girls folded their hands,
fixed their eyes upon the altar and for a while
prayed devotedly; but finally they grew tired, their
eyes wandered about in all directions, and soon
they discovered the pleasant face of the Countess
who was seated above in the oratorium. But
behind her sat Mr. and Mrs. Proshek, and he gave
them a severe look to make them turn again to the
altar. Adelka, however, did not understand it, and
so looked up and smiled until Barunka pulled her
dress, whispering: “‘ keep your eyes upon the altar.”

The benediction was over. The priest took the
holy eucharist into his hands, and the people began
to sing: “ Lamb of God, Christ, have mercy upon
us!” their voices mingling in a grand chorus with
the chimes of the bells.

The children headed the procession, the little
peasants with burning candles, and the girls with
garlands and bouquets of flowers, which they scat-
tered about as they went. Behind them came the
priests, the elders of the city, the dignitaries of the
whole realm; then the common citizens of the town;
and lastly the country folk, among whom was
Grandmother. Flags of various kinds flew over
their heads, the perfume of incense mingled with the
perfume of flowers, and the occasion was made
more impressive by the ringing of the bells. Those
who could not join the procession stood at the doors
and windows to see it. And what a feast for the
eyes! What costumes, what elegance! Here gaily
dressed children, there the rich robes of the clergy;
here a gentleman with a blue cloak, there a frugal
154 THE GRANDMOTHER.

peasant with one at least fifty years old; here a
stalwart youth with an embroidered jacket, there
the father with a cloak touching his heels; ladies,
simply but elegantly dressed, standing beside
those covered with jewels and tawdry finery.

There stood women of the town in caps of lace
or of silver and gold embroidery; the farmers’
wives in stiffly starched cambric caps or in white
head shawls; girls with red kerchiefs or bare heads,
their hair held back by beautiful fillets.

As every one knew by the sign that Mr. Stan-
icky’s house was a hotel, so the dress of the people
was an index to their minds and often to their
occupations? The capitalist could readily be
recognized from the tradesman or from the public
officers; the farmer, from the day laborer; and from
the dress one could see who still adhered to the
“good old ways,” or, as Grandmother said, followed
the world and its new fangled notions.

Grandmother tried to be as near as possible to
the children, so that if anything happened, she
would be on hand. All, however, went off well,
only Adelka jumped and put her hands to her ears
whenever a shot was fired.

After the celebration, they went to the hotel
where the carriage was waiting. Christina came
_with them from the church and Grandmother asked
her to ride with them, since Mr. and Mrs. Proshek
were to stay to dinner.

“TI should like to ride with you, but I want to
go with the girls,” replied Christina, as she cast a
glance upon a group of young men who were
standing in the churchyard, waiting to accompany
the girls home.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 155

There was one among them with a handsome
face and an honest look and a form tall and straight
as a poplar tree. His eyes seemed to be searching
‘for some one in the crowd, and when they acci-
dentally met those of Christina, both he and the
girl turned crimson.

Grandmother and the children went home with
Hela, and Mrs. Stanicky made them stay to take
some refreshments. Grandmother took a glass of
wine out to Christina, who would not enter the bar-
room, because there were so many men there; but
before she could give it to her, the tall youth
entered the bar-room, ordered a glass of wine, and
stood with it by Christina.

As it was considered proper for a girl to be very
bashful on such occasions, she refused to take it,
until tired of coaxing he said in an injured tone:
“So you won’t take this from me?” At this
point she took the tiny goblet and drank to his
health. Then both took a sip from Grandmother’s
glass, as she said: “ You came just in the nick of
time, Jacob, I was thinking which one of those
young men J could ask to go with us. Iam afraid
to ride with those wild horses, when Mr. Proshek
or some one else that is trustworthy is not along;
for Wenzel is so careless. Can you come?”

“ Most willingly,” replied Jacob as he turned to
the bar to pay for the wine.

The children bade Hela good-bye, took leave of
their parents and Mr. and Mrs. Stanicky, and got
into the carriage; Christina got in with them, Milo
sprang upon the box next to the coachman, and off
they drove.

“See what airs Jacob Milo puts on!” said
156 THE GRANDMOTHER.

4
the young men on the walk as the carriage rolled
by.

“Yes, indeed, haven’t I cause!” he replied as he
cast a glance into the carriage. One of the young
men who had thus spoken and who was his best
friend waved his cap and hummed,

«“ Love, God’s own love,
Where is it found?
On the trees it grows not
Nor yet on the ground.”
The last was not heard on account of the rum-
bling of the carriage.

“ I wonder if you prayed, boys?” asked Grand-
mother.

“I prayed, but I don’t believe Willie did,” said
John.

“Don’t you believe him, Grandma, I said the
Lord’s prayer over and over again, but John pushed
me and wouldn’t let me alone in the procession,”
said Willie.

“ Johnny, Jonnny, you Godless child! This year
I must complain of you to St. Nicholas,” said
Grandmother very severely.

“And you won’t get anything, wait!” said
Adelka.

“© What kind of presents do you get, Christina?”
asked Barunka.

“ None; it is not the custom among us to give
presents. Once, however, I got a wish from a
certain tutor who gave lessons at the steward’s in
the castle. I have it here in my prayer book.”
As she said this she took out a piece of folded
paper, upon which was a wish in verse; around the
verse was painted a wreath of roses with forget-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 154

me-nots pricked in the paper. “I kept it on
account of the wreath; for I don’t understand the
wish at all.”

“ Isn’t it Bohemian? ” asked Grandmother.

“Itis Bohemian, but so learned; hear how it be-
gins: ‘Hear me, dearest lady ward!’ Now, I don’t
know what he means, and he goes on in this way
through the whole wish. I am not a ward, for
thank God, I still have my mother; I believe that
man’s books turned his head so that he himself did
not understand what he wrote.”

“You must not think so, dear girl. That
was a man of great wisdom, well versed
in learning; such an one’s reason cannot come
down to ours. While I lived at Kladrau, near
us dwelt just such a literary master; his house-
keeper,— they say all such men abjure marriage,—
used to come to our house quite often and tell us
what a grumbling fellow he was. The whole day
long he was buried in his books like a mole; if
Susannah had not said: * Master, dinner’s ready,’ he
would not have thought of eating. Susannah had
to remind him of everything; but for her the
moths would have eaten him up. Every day he
spent an hour out walking, but all alone, for he
did not like company. As soon as he went out I
used to run over to see Susannah; she was fond of
sweet mixed drinks, and although I never liked that
burning stuff, I had to drink a small goblet with
her. She used to say: ‘My master must not see
it, for he drinks only water, unless he puts in a few
drops of wine. He says to me: “ Susannah, water
of all drinks is the most healthful; always drink
water, and you will be well and happy.” And I
158 THE GRANDMOTHER.

think: “ All right; but sweet whiskey agrees better
with me.” He would want me to live like a bird.
Eating and drinking are nothing to him, except to
keep a person alive. His food is his books; no
such fare for me, thank you.’

“Thus Susannah would goon. Once she took
me into his parlor. In-all my life Inever saw so
many books; they were piled up like firewood.
‘Just see, Madaline, my master has all that in his
head; I often wonder it has not made him
crazy. It’s like this, if it were not for me, he
would die of hunger like a child. I must see to
everything, for he doesn’t understand anything
except his books. One needs great patience to get
along with him. But, at times, even my patience
is exhausted, and when I speak out he goes as if a
dog had bitten him, and doesn’t say a word, till at
last I feel sorry for him. At times, however, a
good scolding is necessary. Madaline, you won’t
believe it, but his room was as full of dust as the
middle of the common, and the cobwebs were as
thick as in an old belfry; and do you suppose I
could come in with the duster? No, indeed! I
thought to myself: “Tl out-wit you yet.” It was all
the same to him, but my reputation was at stake; it
was a disgrace to me, when people came and found
him living in such disorder. I begged one of his
friends, whom he especially liked, to keep him a
long time when next he came to see him, and
while he was gone I gave hisroom a good cleaning
and dusting. And would you believe it, Madaline?
that man did not know it had been cleaned until the
third day, when he remarked that somehow there
seemed to be more light in the room. More light
THE GRANDMOTHER. 159

indeed! As if there shouldn’t be more light!
Thus one must know how to manage these book-
worms.’

“Whenever we met she had some new com-
plaint against her master, but for the whole
world she would not have left him. Once he caused
her a great deal of anxiety. While he was out
walking he meta friend who was on his way to
the Riesengebirge mountains. He asked her master
to accompany him, saying that they would return
soon, and he started just as he was. Susannah
waited and waited, but the master didn’t come; the
night approached, he was nowhere to be seen. She
came to our house frightened, crying, and we had
all we could do to quiet her. The next morning
she found out how he went away; then she scolded
and carried on at a terrible rate. He came back
about the sixth day, and she had been getting din-
ner and supper for him all that time. When he
returned she came over to our house saying:
‘When I began to scold him he only said: “ Well,
well, don’t make such a fuss! I went out for awalk
and thought I’d stop to see the Snow Cap, so I could
not return immediately.”

“ Once she brought us several books, saying that
her master had written them, and asked us to read
them. My husband was a good reader, so he read,
but did not understand them at all; he also knew
how to make verses, but we did not understand
those either, — it was all too learned. Susannah,
however, said: ‘ Well, that pays, to rack his brains
over-what nobody can understand!’ But the people
of the town spoke very highly of him some declar-
ing that his wisdom was beyond comprehension.”
160 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“T am like that Susannah,” said Christina, I
care nothing for his learning, when I do not under-
stand it. When I hear a pretty song or one of
your stories, Grandma, I enjoy it more than the
most learned discussion. But have you heard that
new song that Barla made at Red Hura?”

“ My dear girl, those worldly songs do not inter-
est me any more. I pay little attention to them.
Those days when I would have gone a long dis-
tance for a new song are past; now I sing only my
hymns,” replied Grandmother.

“What kind of a song is it?” asked Manchinka,

“If vou like I'll teach you to sing it; it begins:

“What does that birdie say
On the oak, who sings all day?”

“Christinka, you must sing it over for me, when
I come to your house to-day,” said Milo, turning to
the company in the carriage.

“With the greatest pleasure,” she replied, and
continued: “ We were raking hay on our master’s
fields. Barla came then, too, and while we were
resting on the hillside, Anna Ticanek said: ‘ Barla
make us a song!’ Barla thought a while, smiled,
and began to sing:

‘What does that birdie say
On the oak, who sings all day?
Little birdie sings so gay,

“Maids in love are pale alway.”’

Anna, however, was somewhat offended, for she
thought the song was about herself; you know she
and Tomesh are engaged. But just as soon as
Barla noticed it, in the twinkling of an eye he
made another verse:
THE GRANDMOTHER. 161

‘Hush, birdie, hush! thou liest,
*Tis false what thou hast said;
I, too, a lover have,

And yet my cheeks are red.’

We liked the song very much, and the tune was
good, too. The girls of Zernov will wonder; they
have not heard it yet,” added Christina.

Manchinka and Barunka were humming the
new song, and just then they rode past. the castle.
Before the gate stood the youngest chamberlain
dressed in black, a fellow not tall and of a sallow
complexion. With one hand he smoothed his
black whiskers; the other was hung by the thumb
in his gold watch-chain, in such a manner as to
display all the rings that shone upon his fingers.

When the carriage drove by, his eyes gleamed
like a tomcat’s watching a sparrow; he smiled gra-
ciously upon Christina and waved his hand. The
women barely looked at him, and Milo, with much
reluctance, slightly raised his otter cap.

“ Really, I should prefer to meet Satan himself
than that Italian,” said Christina. “Now he is
again on the lookout for game, and should a few
girls come along alone, he would fly among them
like a hawk.” ;

“ Well, not long ago he got a dressing at Zlitz,”
began Wenzel; “he came there to the dance, and at
once took possession of some of the prettiest girls,
as if they had been brought there expressly for him,
and the fellow doesn’t even know how to speak
Bohemian. Still he readily learned to say: ‘ Pretty
girls, I like.’

“ Yes, and when he comes to our house he
repeats it to me constantly,” said Christina; “even

Il
162 THE GRANDMOTHER.

if I say ten times over: ‘I you don’t like,’ he sticks
like the ague.”

“ The boys dusted his jacket well, and if it were
not for me, he would have fared still worse,” added
Wenzel.

* Let him look out, or else he’ll find out what’s
what somewhere else!” said Milo, making a threat-
ening gesture with his head.

The carriage stopped at theinn. “ Many thanks
for the ride,” said Christina as Milo helped her
from the carriage.

“A word more,” said Grandmother; “do you
know when the Zernov people are going on the
pilgrimage to Svatonovitz?”

“T suppose the same time as usual; the first
festival to the Virgin following St. John. I am
going, too.”

“ And I, too, that’s why I asked,” added Grand-
mother.

“ This year I’m going with you,” said Barunka.

«“ And I, too,” exclaimed Manchinka.

The rest of the children declared they would
not remain at home when everybody else went, but
Barunka settled that question by telling them they
could not walk twelve miles. Wenzel now touched
tlie horses with his whip, and they went to the mill,
where Manckinka was left and also several garlands
which Grandmother had had blessed in church for
the miller’s wife.

As they were approaching home, the dogs,
Sultan and Tyrol, came running to meet them;
they could hardly contain themselves for joy, when
they saw their mistress home again. Grandmother
thanked God that they were home safe, for she
THE GRANDMOTHER. 163

preferred a thousand times to walk than ride; for
while those horses went at such a galloping rate she
expected every moment that the carriage would
capsize and some one would get his neck broken.

Betsey and Vorsa were waiting at the door.
“Well, Wenzel, where is your wreath? ” asked the
talkative Betsey, when Grandmother and the chil-
dren entered the house.

“O my girl, I have forgotten where I lost it,”
said Wenzel with a wicked grin, as he turned the
carriage toward the road.

“Don’t speak with him,” said Vorsa; you know
he doesn’t see into his mouth,* even on the Lord’s
festival?”

Wenzel, still laughing, struck the horses and in
an instant was out of sight. Grandmother hung
the fresh wreaths between the double windows and
around the pictures, and threw those of last year
into “ God’s fire.”

*A common saying meaning that he doesn’t perceive how bad his
language sounds to others.
CHAPTER VIII.

O-DAY Grandmother’s room is like a garden;
wherever a person turns everything is full of
roses, mignonette, cherry blossoms, and other
flowers; among the rest is a whole armful of oak
leaves. Barunka and Manchinka are making bou-
quets, and Celia is weaving a large garland. On
the bench by the stove sit Adelka and the boys,
reciting the congratulation.

It is the eve of St. John’s, and to-morrow will
be father’s name’s day,* a great day for the fam-
ily. Mr. Proshek had invited several of his
dearest friends to dinner; that always was _ his
custom. That is why there is such a commotion in
the house; Vorsa has been scrubbing and cleaning
from early morning; Betsey is scalding and clean-
ing the poultry; Mrs. Proshek bakes kolaches; and
Grandmother sees now to the baking, now to the
poultry, in fact, is wanted everywhere. Barunka
begs her to call John out, because he won’t let
them alone, and when he is out Betsy and Vorsa
complain that he is in their way. Willie wants her
to listen to his story, and Adelka pulls at her apron,
begging for a kolach, and in the yard the chickens
are impatient for their supper.

“ For pity’s sake, I cannot attend to everything
at once?” exclaimed the poor, distracted old lady.

*In Bohemia (and in most Catholic countries) one’s name’s day is
celebrated instead of one’s birthday. Thus the day of St. John is cele-
brated by all the Johns named after him.

164
THE GRANDMOTHER. 165

And now Vorsa gives the alarm: “ Mr. Proshek
is coming!” There is a rush to hide what must
yet remain a secret; Mrs. Proshek locks up the
sweet-meats, and Grandmother gives strict orders
to the children not to tell anything.

The father enters the yard, and the children run
to meet him; but when he says good evening and
asks them about their mother, they are embarrassed,
fearing to speak, lest they should divulge some
secret. But Adelka, who is “ Papa’s pet,” goes to
him, and when he takes her up in his arms, she
whispers: “Mamma and Grandma are baking
kolaches; it will be your name’s day to-morrow.”

“Wait, won’t you catch it for telling?” exclaim
the boys as they turn to tell their mother.

Adelka turns red; for a few moments she sits
frightened and finally begins to cry.

“Well, don’t cry, dear,” says the father, sooth-
ingly; “I knew it would be my name’s day to-
morrow, and that mother is baking kolaches.”

Adelka wipes away her tears with her sleeve;
still she looks with some fear at her mother, who
is coming with the boys. She, however, makes
everything all right, and the boys find out that
Adelka has told nothing that she ought not to tell.
But the secret is too much for the children, so that
the father hearing does not hear, and seeing does
not see. At supper, Barunka must constantly wink
at them, and push them for fear they will tell all,
and Betsey afterwards calls them “ tell-tales.”

Finally the work is finished, and everything is
in readiness for the morrow; even the smell of the
baking is gone. The servants have gone to sleep,
and only Grandmother’s footstep is heard in the
166 THE GRANDMOTHER.

house. She shuts up the cats, puts out the last
spark in the stove, and recollecting that there has
been fire in the bake-oven outside, and that a spark
may have remained there, decides that she had
better go out and see.

Sultan and Tyrol sit on the foot-bridge. When
they see Grandmother they look up surprised, for
she is not accustomed to be out at that hour; but as
soon as she pats them on their heads, they begin to
rub themselves against her. “I suppose you’ve
been watching for mice, you watermen? This you
may do; but don’t you meddle with my poultry!”
She goes up the hill to the oven, the dogs following
close behind her. She opens the oven, pokes among
the ashes, but seeing not a single spark shuts it
again, and returns homeward. By the foot-bridge
is a large oak, whose branches make a convenient
roost for some poultry. Grandmother looks up
into the branches, hears gentle sighs, low twitter-
ing, and peeping. “ They are dreaming of some-
thing,” she says and goes further. What has
delayed her by the garden? Does she hear the
pleasant warbling of two nightingales in the
garden shrubbery, or Victorka’s sorrowful and
broken melody that resounds from the dam? Or
has she turned her eyes to the hill where multitudes
of fire-flies are shining like so many twinkling
stars? Below the hill over the meadow are
hovering clouds like waves of gossamer. The
people say they are not clouds, and perhaps she,
too, believes that in those transparent silvery gray
veils are enrobed the forest women, and is now
watching their wild dance by the light of the
moon. No, neither this nor that; she is look-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 167

ing toward the meadow that leads to the
mill.

From the village inn, across the creek, Grand-
mother saw a woman running, her shoulders
covered with a white wrap. Now she stands and
listens, like a fawn that has run out into the open
meadow to feed awhile. All is quiet except the
song of the nightingale, the rumbling ef the mill,
the murmuring of the waves under the dark alder
bushes. She binds the white wrap upon her right
arm and gathers nine different kinds of flowers.
Having her bouquet ready, she bends, washes her
face with the fresh dew, and turning neither to the
right nor to the left, hastens back to the inn. “It
is Christina! she is going to make St. John’s
wreath; I thought she was fond of that youth,”
said Grandmother, never turning her eyes from the
girl. She is now out of sight, and Grandmother
remains standing buried in a deep revery.

She sees before herself a meadow, a mountain
village, above her the moon and glittering stars;
they are the same stars, the same moon, ever
young, never changing, and eternally beautiful.
She, too, was young when on that St. John’s eve
she made that fatal wreath of nine kinds of flowers.
Grandmother remembers as if it were now, how
afraid she was lest some one should meet her and
spoil her charm. She sees herself in her chamber,
she sees her bed covered with the flowers, she
remembers how she placed the wreath under her
pillow, how fervently she prayed that God would
send her a dream in which she should see him
whom her soul had chosen. Her confidence in the
fatal wreath was not misplaced; she saw in her
168 THE GRANDMOTHER.

dream a tall man of bright, candid expression,
whose equal, in her eyes, was not to be found in
the whole world. She now smiles at the childish
faith with which she went before sunrise to the
apple tree, over which she threw the wreath back-
wards, in order to find out by the distance it fell
beyond the tree whether George would return soon
or late. She remembers how the rising sun found
her in the orchard weeping bitterly because the
wreath fell far beyond the apple tree, by which
she knew that it would bea long time before she
should see George again.

Thus, buried in deep thought, Grandmother
stands a long time. Unconsciously she clasps her
hands, turns her calm, earnest gaze to the stars, and
softly murmurs: “ How long, George, how long?”
A gentle breeze fans her pale cheek. Are not
those the kisses of the departed loved one? She
trembles, signs herself with the cross, the tears fill
her eyes and fall upon her clasped hands. For
some moments she stands in silent meditation, then
turns and quietly enters the house.

In the forenoon of the next day, the children
stood at the window watching for their parents,
who were in town, at church. The father paid for
a mass that day, and Grandmother ordered prayers
to be said for all the Johns of the family, beginning
back several generations. The beautiful wreath,
the congratulations, the gifts,— all were ready
waiting for the father. Barunka heard one, then
another recite his congratulation, but they made so
many mistakes that she had them do it all over
again. Grandmother’s hands were full; still she
THE GRANDMOTHER. 169

found time to glance into the sitting room now and
then with the admonition: “Be good, don’t cut
up,” and then went about her work again.

Grandmother was going into the garden to cut
some parsley, when she saw Christina coming car-
rying something tied up in a handkerchief. “Good
morning, Grandma!” she said with a countenance
so bright and happy that Grandmother gazed on
her for a moment without speaking.

“Why, child, you look as if you had slept on
roses,” said Grandmother smiling.

“You have guessed right; my pillowcases are
covered with flowers,” replied Christina.

“Oh, I see, you do not wish to understand; but
no matter, let it be as it will, if only it be well. Is
not that so, my dear girl?”

“Yes, yes, Grandma,” said Christina, blushing.

“ What have you there?”

«“ A present for John; he liked our doves, so ’'m
bringing him a pair of young ones, he can raise
them.”

“© Why did you do it? he did not need them.”

“Never mind, Grandma; I like children, and
children find much pleasure in such things; then
why should he not have them? But it seems to me
that I did not tell you what happened at our house
day before yesterday.”

“Yesterday, our house was like the bridge at
Prague.* I recollect that you wanted to teil me
something about the Italian, but we were too busy
to talk. Tell me now, but leave a word out of

* In olden days there was but one bridge in Prague, and as there was
a great deal of travel on it, the saying, ‘' Like the bridge of Prague,”
became proverbial.
170 THE GRANDMOTHER.

each sentence, for I expect our folks home every
minute,” said Grandmother.

.“ Now think: that sneak, that Italian came to
out house every day to drink his beer. There was
no harm in that, fora public house is for every-
body. But instead of sitting at the table like a
respectable fellow, he rummaged the whole yard
like an old broom, and even went into the cow
stable; in short, wherever I turned he was at my
heels. Father scowled, but you know him; he is
good-natured, couldn’t harm a chicken, and besides
he doesn’t like to drive away his customers, especial-
ly those from the castle. He thought I was equal
to the occasion, so did not interfere. I made short
work of the Italian several times, but he acted as
though I had said the most loving things to him,
and yet I know he understands Bohemian, if he
does not speak it. He kept saying constantly:
‘Pretty girls I like,’ clasped his hands, and even
knelt down before me.”

«“ The wretch!” exclaimed Grandmother.

“QO, you know, Grandma, that class of men jab-
ber no end of moonshine; it makes one’s ears ache
to listen to it. What would a person come to if he
should believe it? Such nonsense finds no place in
my head; but that Italian tired me out. Towards
evening we were out in the meadow raking hay,
when by chance Milo happened to come along
(Grandmother smiled at that “by chance”); we
spoke of various matters, and I told him what a
nuisance that Italian had become to me. ‘Just let
him alone, I shall see that he troubles you no more,’
said Milo, ‘But don’t you do anything to offend
THE GRANDMOTHER. 171

my father,’ I said, ‘for I know you Zernov boys;
when you get started, the deuce himself is to pay.’
In the evening that blessed Italian came again, but
in a few minutes he was followed by the boys;
there were four of them, among them Milo and his
comrade Tomesh, — you know Tomesh, don’t you?
He is going to marry Anna Ticanek, who is my
best friend. When I saw them come I was as
delighted as if some one had given mea new gown.
With a merry heart I went to fill their glasses and
drank with each one. The Italian’s face grew
dark. I never drink with him. Who can believe
him? He could put in some love potion! The
boys got round a table to play cards, but only for
a blind; for they kept making cutting remarks
about the Italian. Vitkov said: ‘ Look at him, he
looks like a noodle owl!’ Then Tomesh said: «I
am watching him constantly to see how soon he’ll
bite his nose off; that would not be difficult, for it
reaches almost to his chin!’ Thus it went on, he
changed color, but did not lisp a syllable. Finally,
he threw the money upon the table, left his beer
standing, and went away without a word. I signed
myself when he left, but the boys said: ‘ Could he
have stabbed us with his looks, it would be all over
with us now.’ As soon as he left, I went about
my work,— you know since mother has been ill,
everything depends upon me. The boys left, too.
I think it was after ten, when I was through with
my work and went tomy room. I began to un-
dress, when tap, tap, tap, I heard some one rapping
upon my window. I thought: ‘Surely it is Milo,
he probably forgot something.’ He always forgets
172 THE GRANDMOTHER,

something. [I tell him that sometime he’ll leave his
head at our house.”

“Tf he has not done it already;” said Grand-
mother with a smile.

“I threw my shawl over my shoulders; ” contin-
ued Christina, “and went to open the window; and
behold, whom did I see! — That Italian. I banged
the window, and was so frightened that I trembled!
Then he began to talk and beg, though he well
knows that I cannot understand a word he says.
At last he offered me the gold rings from his fin-
gers. Then I got mad. I took up my water pitcher
and going to the window, said: ‘ Go away instantly,
you miscreant, or I’ll dash this over your head!’

“ He stepped back from the window, but at that
moment out from the shrubbery rushed the boys.
They got hold of him, stuffed up his mouth so
that he could not scream, and began to mock him.
‘Wait, you rascally Italian, we’ll teach you man-
ners,’ cried Milo. I begged Milo not to beat him,
and closed the window, — only partly, for I wanted
to know what they were going to do. ‘Now Milo
what shall we do with him? The fellow is almost
gone; he has a hare’s heart and trembles as if he
had the ague.’ ‘Let us switch him with nettles,’
proposed one. ‘Let us tar- and - feather him!’ cried
another! ‘Not that,’ decided Milo. ‘Tomesh, you
hold him, and the rest of you come with me.’
They ran off.

In a little while they returned, bringing a pole
and some tar. ‘Now, boys, take off his boots and
turn up his trousers,’ ordered Milo. They obeyed,
but when the Italian began to kick, they soothed
him as if he were a pony: ‘Whoa, little one, whoa!
THE GRANDMOTHER. 173

you won’t be shod! Don’t be afraid. We mean
only to grease your feet, so you can run home the
faster!’ ‘At any rate, you’ll get a more wholesome
smell than comes from those perfumes of yours,’
said Tomesh. When they had tarred his feet, so
that it seemed as though he had on a pair of boots,
they took the pole, and laying it over his breast
stretched his arms over it and fastened them on in
the form of across. He tried to scream, but Tom-
esh placed his hand over his mouth and held it as
in avice. ‘It won’t hurt such an idle fellow as
you to stretch his limbs a little; otherwise your
veins might become contracted!’ ‘ Now, tie his
boots together and throw them over his shoulder,
and lead him out to the road; let him trot to where
he came from,’ said Milo. ‘But wait, he must
have a buttonhole bouquet, so that people may
know he’s been to see his girl,’ said Vitkov, and
picked a piece of nettle and a thistle blossom, and
put them into his coat. ‘Now you are very hand-
some! Now you may go with your gifts.” Then
Tomesh and Milo lead him out to the road.

Presently, Milo returned to the window, told me
how furious the Italian was and how he looked
running, his arms outstretched and fastened to the
pole. I asked how he knew that the fellow was
here. He said that the boys and he were passing
by, and that he left them waiting at the mill while
he ran to my window to bid me good night, and
just then espied some one sneaking along the wall
like a thief. As soon as he recognized him, he re-
turned to the mill to get his comrades, and all
agreed that the Italian ought to have a severe chas-
tisement.
174 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ He said: ‘Everything went on as we expected,
and I am sure the fellow will trouble you no
more.’

“ All day yesterday I was amused thinking of the
trick the boys had played, but in the evening
Watchman Kohoutek came over,— he comes every
day, and after drinking several glasses he is apt to
tell all he knows. He said that the Italian came
home that evening in a fearful condition, having
been attacked and maltreated by some villains; that
he looked so dreadful that all the dogs ran after
him; and that Mrs. Kohoutek worked till morning
before she got all the tar away. She got a silver
dollar for her trouble, but she was to say nothing
of it at the castle. He swore a fearful vengeance
upon the boys. I fear for Milo now, for they say
those Italians are very bad people. Besides,
Kohoutek said that the Italian waits upon Mary,
the steward’s daughter, and that her folks do not
object, since they think that he is likely to be pro-
moted. Milo wanted to serve a year in the manor
in order to escape the conscription, but if the
Italian sets the steward against him, that plan may
as well be given up at once. I have considered all
this, and now I wish they had let the fellow alone.
Last night’s dream comforted me a little, but after
all it was but a dream! What do you think of the
whole affair, Grandma?”

“It was not a wise thing for them to do; but
what can we expect of young men, especially when
love is mixed up with their affairs? My George
did something very similar and we paid for it
dearly.”

“ What was it?” quickly asked Christina.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 175

«“ Indeed, would you have me begin the story
now? I think our folks are returning from church,
for ’m sure I hear the rumbling of wheels? Let
us goin. [ll consider what you’ve told me, and
perhaps I may be able to give you some counsel,”
added Grandmother, as she entered the house.

The children, hearing Christina’s voice, ran out
into the hall to meet her; and when she gave John the
beautiful doves, he threw his arms around her and
gave her such a squeeze that a red streak was left
upon her white neck. He wanted to take the doves to
the dovecot at once, but just then Barunka exclaimed:
“ Here they are!” Hardly had the carriage entered
the yard, when the gamekeeper and the miller
followed it, coming to spend the day with the
Proshek family.

Mr. Proshek, seeing himself surrounded by
loving friends and the family he so dearly loved,
and of whose company he was deprived during
most of the year, was deeply moved, and when
Barunka began to recite the congratulation, his
eyes filled withtears. The children, seeing this and
observing that their mother and Grandmother were
also in tears, hesitated, and finally began to cry.
Betsey and Vorsa, listening at the door, covered
their faces with their blue aprons and wept, too. The
miller turned his snuff box like a water-wheel, and
the gamekeeper began rubbing a fine hunting
knife over his sleeve (he was in full dress to-day),
in order that he might conceal his feelings; but
Christina stood at the window, not at all ashamed
of her tears, till the miller approached and rapped
her on the shoulder with the snuff box, saying: “I
suppose you are thinking, ‘would that the time
176 THE GRANDMOTHER.

were near when I, too, shall be thus congratu-
lated?”

“You, sir, cannot get along without teasing
somebody,” replied the girl, wiping her eyes.

With the tears still in his eyes, but joy and con-
tent in his heart, Mr. Proshek stepped to the table
and poured out a goblet of wine. “To the health
of all!” he said, drinking the first goblet. Then
they all drank to his health, and soon their faces
beamed with good cheer. John was the happiest
of all; the gamekeeper had given him a
couple of rabbits; the miller’s wife had brought him
an immense cake covered with such sauces as he
liked best; and Grandmother had presented him one.
of those coins she had in the little green bag in her
chest. Just after dinner the Princess and Countess
came into the orchard, and when the family went
out to meet them, the Countess presented Johnny
with a beautiful book full of pictures of animals.

« T have come to see how you are enjoying your-
self,” said the Princess to her equerry.

“ With my family, your Grace, and several
good friends I am always happy,” replied Mr.
Proshek.

« Who is with you?”

“ My neighbors, the miller with his family, and
the Riesenburg gamekeeper.”

“Do not let me keep you, return to them,” said
the Princess, preparing to leave.

Mr. Proshek bowed, not presuming to ask his
mistress to remain; but the simple-hearted Grand-
mother began:

«Oh, indeed! what manners would that be, to
let her Grace and Miss Hortense go without even
THE GRANDMOTHER. 177

offering them a kolach! Go, Theresa, go bring
something. What comes unexpectedly often tastes
good. Barunka, you bring a basket and pick some
cherries. Perhaps her Grace will accept some
cream or some wine.”

Mr. Proshek and his wife were much embar-
rassed, fearing that the Princess would be offended
by that simple offer; on the contrary, smiling
pleasantly she dismounted, gave her bridle to Mr.
Proshek, and seating herself upon the bench under
the pear tree, said: “Your hospitality will be
acceptable to me, but I do not wish you to neglect
your guests; let them come out, too!”

Mrs. Proshek went into the house, Mr. Proshek
tied the horse to a tree, brought out a small table,
and in a little while the gamekeeper came out,
making a profound bow. He was followed by the
miller, who showed a great deal of shyness; but as
soon as the Princess asked him how his business
was prospering, he was in his element and got so
far over his bashfulness that he offered her.a pinch
of snuff. When she had spoken a kind word with
each one, she accepted a kolach from Mrs. Proshek
and a glass of cream from Grandmother.

While this was going on the children surrounded
John, who showed them the pictures in his book.
The Countess stood by enjoying their happiness and
wonder, and gladly replying to their questions.

“Mamma, look! this is our fawn!” cried
Bertie, as John turned the leaves to the picture of a
fawn; and the mother and children put their heads
together, looking at the pictures.

« Sultan! that’s Sultan!” cried Willie, and when
Sultan answered the call by running to them, John

I2
178 THE GRANDMOTHER.

showed him the picture, saying: “ See, this is you! ”

There was also a very large elephant of which
Adelka was afraid. There were horses, cows, rab-
bits, squirrels, chickens, lizards and snakes, fish,
frogs, butterflies, lady-bugs, and even ants. The
children were familiar with all those creatures, and
Grandmother, seeing the scorpions and snakes, said:
“ What will not people make! they paint even those
reptiles!”

When, however, the miller’s wife wanted to
see the fiery dragon, whose mouth spits fire, the
Countess said there was no such animal, that it was
only an imaginary monster. The miller, hearing
this, turned the snuff box in his fingers, smiled
mischievously, and said:

“QO your Ladyship, it is not an imaginary
monster; there are plenty of such wicked dragons
with fiery tongues in the world, but they belong to
the human race, and therefore are not put here
among these harmless creatures.”

The Countess smiled, but the miller’s wife rap-
ped him upon the shoulder, saying: “ Too many
words, father.”

The Princess spoke with Mr. Proshek and the
gamekeeper about various things, till finally she
asked if there were many poachers around.

«“ T have two such rascals still; there were three
but the most foolish one I fined several times, so
now he stays at home. But the other two are
deuced sharp, I can’t catch them unless I put some
shot through their bodies. The master of the
woods tells me to do it; but it is no small matter
to cripple a man on account of a hare.”

«I do not wish you to do it,” said the Princess.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 179

“T, too, have thought that for such a trifle your
Grace will not come to poverty, and they dare not
enter the ward for larger game.”

“T hear that much wood is stolen from my for-
ests. How is that?”

“T have served your Ladyship for many years,
and the damage thus done does not amount to much.
A good deal is said, I know; for example, I could
have several trees cut down during the year, sell
them, and when I could not give a clear record, I
could say they were stolen. But why burden my
conscience with lying and cheating? In the fall
when the women come to rake up leaves and moss,
and the poor people come to collect sticks for fuel,
I am always about and swear till the trees tremble;
but should I half kill some old granny when she
breaks off a few stouter limbs! Your Grace will
not come to poverty for that, and the poor creature
is helped and blesses you a thousand times. I do
not call such things losses.”

“You are right,” replied the Princess. “ Still
there must be some very bad people about; day
before yesterday, in the evening, as Piccolo was
coming from town, he was attacked, and when he
called for help, he was beaten so that he is ill.
Thus I was told.”

«“ That does not seem possible,” said Mr. Pro-
shek, shaking his head dubiously.

“In all my life I never heard that there were
robbers about here!” exclaimed the gamekeeper
and miller at the same time.

“ What is it that’s happened?” asked Grand-
mother, coming nearer.

The gamekeeper told her.
- 180 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“That lying scamp,” exclaimed Grandmother, in
her indignation supporting her hand on her hip.
“It is a wonder he isn’t afraid that God will punish
him. I will tell your Grace how it was.” Here
she related what Christina had confided to her in
‘the morning. “ Not that I would approve of what
those boys did; but they cannot be blamed much,
for everybody guards his own. If any one had
seen that fellow standing by Christina’s win-
dow in the night, it would have been trumpeted
over the whole neighborhood, and her good name
and future would have been ruined; people would
say: ‘O, she shows favor to such lordlings, she is
not for us.” But now she is afraid that he will
revenge himself upon them,” added Grandmother.

“ She need not fear, I will manage that,” said
the Princess, and motioning to the Countess they
mounted their horses, graciously bade the company
good day, and galloped to the castle.

“ Really, no one would venture to talk with the
Princess as our Grandmother did,” said Mrs.
Proshek.

“It is often easier to speak with an emperor
than with a secretary, and a word spoken in season
may bear good fruit. Had I remained silent, who
knows what would have come from it,” said Grand-
mother.

“ Now, I always said that our Princess was
pale from the lies people told her,” said the game-
keeper, re-entering the house with Mr. Proshek
and the miller.

In the evening, Kuderna came over, with his
hand organ, and as soon as he began to play, the
children, Christina, Betsey, and Vorsa began to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 181

dance. They also had champagne, which the
Princess had sent to be drunk to her health. Even
Victorka was not forgotten; as soon as it was dark,
Grandmother carried a generous portion to the
stump by the dam.

The next day the miller’s wife complained to
Grandmother that while they were going home in
the night, “ father talked a great deal of nonsense,
and seemed to see things double;” but Grandmother
only smiled, saying: ‘ O dear soul, it happens only
once a year, and there isn’t a chapel without some
little preaching.”
CHAPTER IX.

IVE pilgrims are seen wending their way up

Zernov hill: they are Grandmother, the mil-
ler’s wife, Christina, Manchinka, and Barunka.
The first two have white kerchiefs tied over their
heads and pulled over their faces to a point; the
girls have straw hats. Barunka and Manchinka
have tucked up their petticoats like the older
women, and over their shoulders are hung bundles
in which they are carrying provisions for the jour-
ney.

“ It seems to me I hear singing,” said Christina as
they reached the top of the hill.

“TI, too,” cried the girls; “let us hurry up so they
won't leave us,” and they wanted to start on a run.

“O you simpletons, when the leader knows we
are coming, do you suppose he’d leave us?” said
Grandmother; and the girls, now satisfied, followed
the rest with a slow gait.

On top of the hill the shepherd was watching
his flock, and greeted them from afar.

“What do you think, Yoza? shall we get caught
in the rain?” asked the miller’s wife.

“ Have no care, the present state of the weather
will continue till day after to-morrow,” replied the
shepherd. “Remember me with a Pater-noster!
A pleasant journey to you.”

“God grant it, we will not forget.”

«“ Grandma, how does Yoza know when it will

182
THE GRANDMOTHER. 183

rain and when the weather will be fine?” asked
Barunka.

“Just before rain, worms crawl out of the
ground, making tiny cells, the salamanders look
out of their holes, but lizards hide, and spiders too;
the sparrows fly close to the ground. The shep-
herds, being out doors all day and having little to
do, observe those creatures and thus learn much
about their habits. My best calendar was always
the hills and the sky. By the clearness in the out-
lines of the mountains and the color of the sky, I
can tell when we are to have fair or foul weather,
when winds, hail, and snow,” replied Grandmother.

A group of people, men, women and children,
were now seen standing by Zernov chapel; they
were pilgrims. Several women were carrying
babies tied up in pillows. They intended to offer
them to the Virgin at the shrine, that she might
either restore them to health, or grant them some
special blessing.

The leader Martin stood on the steps of the
chapel; his tall form towered above the rest, so that
he could easily command a view of the whole com-
pany entrusted to his care. Seeing Grandmother
and the others coming, he said: “ Now we are all
here, so we are ready to start.” But first let us
pray Our Father for a safe journey!” The pil-
grims knelt before the chapel and prayed, and the
villagers standing near prayed with them. After
the prayer, they sprinkled themselves with holy
water, one of the young men took a long cross,
upon which Tomesh’s bride had hung a wreath,
and Christina had tied a pair .of red streamers.
The men stood near the leader, behind them the
184. THE GRANDMOTHER.

women, grouping themselves together according to
their ages. But they were not quite ready to start.
The careful housewives repeated their directions to
their servants to see well to the housekeeping, and
the ‘fathers gave strict orders to their help to take
good care of the farms. The children begged:
“Please bring us something from the shrine!” the
old women: “Remember us with a Pater-noster!”
Then the leader gave the signal, beginning to sing
in a loud voice: “Hail, daughter of God!” The
pilgrims joined in full chorus, the young men raised
the garlanded cross, and the party started on their
pilgrimage to Svatonovitz. At every chapel they
stopped and offered a Pater-noster and the creed
for the glory and honor of God; by every tree
-upon which some pious hand had hung the picture
of the Virgin, by every cross that marked the spot
where some accident had happened, they knelt and
prayed,

Barunka and Manchinka gave good heed to the
leader and sang with the rest. But when they came
to Red Hura, Barunka all at once asked Grand-
mother about the deaf and dumb girl from Turyn.

This time her questioning met with a sad rebuff,
for Grandmother replied: “ When you go on a pil-
grimage, you must turn your mind to God, and not
think of something else. Sing or silently pray!”
The girls sang again.

They now came into the woods. Here and there
strawberries were seen in the grass. It was a pity
to let them go to waste; they preferred to pick
them. Their hats fell, their petticoats came down
and had to be tucked up again, and finally they
remembered the buns in their bundles and began to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 185

break off bits and eat. Neither Grandmother nor
the miller’s wife noticed it, for they were deeply
buried in their devotions; but Christina and Anna
did, and reproved them several times. “ Much
good your pilgrimage will do you, and great reward
you will merit if you keep on like this,” they said.

The pilgrims reached Svatonovitz before dark;
before entering the village, the women stopped to
put on their shoes and arrange their clothing.
When they entered the village, the first thing they
did was to go to the sacred well, whose waters gush
out in seven streams from under a tree upon which
is hung a picture of the blessed Virgin. There
they knelt down and prayed, then each one took
a drink of the water and moistened his face and
eyes three times. That clear, cold water is said to
possess miraculous powers of healing, and by it
thousands of people have been restored to health.

From the well the pilgrimage went to the well-
lighted church, from whose walls was heard the
murmur of different melodies; for processions kept
coming in from different parts of the country, and
each sang a different hymn.

«“O Grandmother, how beautiful it is here!”
whispered Barunka.

The child knelt down beside her Grandmother,
who bent her head almost to the floor and sent forth
fervent prayers to the most holy mother of Christ,
whose image upon the altar, gleaming in the light
of thousands of candles, was decorated with gar-
lands and bouquets, the gifts of pious maidens and
brides, who came hither that she might grant suc-
cess to their love. The image was covered with a
magnificent robe, decked with costly jewels, the
186 THE GRANDMOTHER.

offerings of those who, afflicted with diseases, had
sought and received help at her feet.

The prayers being ended, the leader arranged
such matters as were necessary with the sexton, and
led his little flock to their lodgings. He did not
have to seek these, for as the swallows coming in
the spring seek their old nests, so the pilgrims went
where year by year they had received, if not a rich
hospitality, still a pleasant welcome, bread and salt,
and a clean bed. The miller’s wife and Grand-
mother were in the habit of staying at the house of
the steward who was in charge of the iron mines
in the neighborhood. They were old people, hold-
ing tothe good old ways, and for this reason Grand-
mother felt at home with them. The stewardess
hearing that Zernov pilgrims had come, sat on a
bench before her house waiting to welcome them.
Before they went to bed she exhibited to them her
treasures, whole rolls of linen and dimity and skeins
upon skeins of yarn. This was her own work, to
which she added some each year.

“For whom, my good woman, are you saving
this, seeing that your daughter is married?” asked
the miller’s wife.

“O, but I have three grandchildren, and linen
and yarn never come amiss.”

With this the other women fully agreed; but
when the steward came along, he said: “ Well,
mother, you are again spreading out your wares;
shall I have the drums beat for an auction?”

«“ Wait a while, till I have saved some more,”
she replied.

It worried the stewardess not a little that she
could not entertain Grandmother with anything
THE GRANDMOTHER. I 87

else than bread, for when the latter went on a pil-
grimage, she lived only on bread and water. This
vow was sacred to her, and nothing would induce
her to break it. The miller’s wife enjoyed it very
much at the steward’s and when she sank down in
the soft feather beds filled with down, she would
say with great satisfaction: “ Dear soft bed, it feels
as if a person were lying in a snow bank.”

Christina and Anna went toa certain widow
who owned a little house with a garden. They
used to sleep in the garret on the hay, where a bed
was made for them. They would have slept
soundly upon a rock. This night they did not
remain in the garret, but climbed down the ladder
into the garden.

“Isnt it a thousand times better here than up
there?” said Christina. “This garden is our
chamber, the stars our candles, ‘And the green
sward, love, our bed shall be,’” she sang, wrapping
herself up in her petticoat and lying down under a
tree. “There I shall slumber, there I shallslumber,
sweetly with thee,” replied Anna, lying down
beside her. “But listen! how Mrs. Fouskek
snores; it sounds just as if one were emptying a
bag of stones,” she said laughing.

“ Wouldn’t it be delightful to sleep beside her.
Say, Anna, do you think they will come to-mor-
row?” asked the girl, turning to her mate.

“ Of course they will come,” said Anna, with
great assurance. ‘“ Tomesh is sure to be here, and
that Milo should not come is not to be thought of.
Why, he likes you.”

“© Who knows, we have not spoken of it yet.”

«“ And why should you speak of it? one knows
188 THE GRANDMOTHER.

that without speaking; I really can’t say whether
Tomesh ever told me that he liked me, and yet we
are very fond of each other, and the wedding day
has been set.”

“© When will it be?”

“ Father wants to give us the homestead and go
to live in the new house he is building. When the
house is finished, we shall be married; that will be
about St. Katherine’s. It would be very pleasant
if you and I could have our wedding the same day.”

“O, go away! You talk as if the arm were
already in the sleeve, and yet all is still behind the
mountains.”

““ If it is not, it can very easily be. Jacob Milo’s
folks would be very glad to have him marry into
your business, and your father could not get a better
son; no one could suit him better. As to yourself,
why, there is no question. No one can deny that
he is the handsomest fellow in the village, and I
think the squire’s daughter, Lucina, would mourn
for him.”

“You see, that is another stone in our path,”
sighed Christina.

“Indeed, there is more than one stone, for
Lucina is solid enough herself, and to her weight
her father will add a bag of Rhine dollars.”

“ So much the worse!”

“ But do not worry your precious head about
that. If her father is the squire, he is not the
Lord, and Lucina, with all her dollars, cannot hold
a candle up to you, and Milo has good eyes.”

“ But if they all go against him, if he does not
get that place on the manor farm, and if he is
taken into the army?”
THE GRANDMOTHER. I 89

“Do not borrow trouble; should the steward
look dark, his eyes can be brightened with coin, you
understand?”

* That could easily be done, but it does not
always work; yet on St. John’s night I dreamed
Milo came to me. But a dream is a dream, and
Grandmother says we should not put any faith in
such superstitions, nor tempt God to reveal to us
the future.”

- But Grandmother is not the Gospel.

“T believe her as I do the Scripture; she always
gives one good counsel, and everybody says she isa
most estimable woman. What she says is the most
sacred truth.”

“T believe that, too, but I would bet my little
finger that when she was young she believed as we
do. That is the way all old people are; my mother
is forever complaining that the young people are
not as they used to be, that all they care for are
dances and merrymakings, and that they haven’t a
grain of sense. That was not the way they acted
when she was young, and I know positively that
our great grandmothers were no better when they
were young than we are, and when we get old, we
will sing the same tune they do. But now let us
commend ourselves to the care of the Blessed
Mother and go to sleep,” added Anna, pulling the
petticoat tight around herself, and in a little while,
when Christina looked into her face she was fast
asleep.

In the garret one of the women that slept there
was trying to quiet her baby, which, however, kept
on crying.

“What! mother, does that child cry this way
190 THE GRANDMOTHER.

every night?” asked the other woman waking
from her sleep.

“For two whole weeks, every night,” she
replied. “Ihave given it everything that people
advised, but to no purpose. The blacksmith’s wife
says it has been overlooked and that it has gone to
its bowels. I decided to offer it upon the altar of
God that it might get well, or that the Lord would
take it to himself.”

“ To-morrow, place it under the stream, so that
the water shall go over it three times; that helped
my little girl,” said the woman, turning over and
going to sleep.

In the morning, when the pilgrims gathered
before the church, shaking hands with the usual
greeting, “Let us forgive each other,” — they were
going to communion,—two familiar voices were
heard behind Christina and Anna: “ May we be
forgiven, too?”

“We grant you absolution without confession,”
replied Anna, giving her hand to Tomesh; Chris-
tina, blushing, gave hers to Milo. The young men,
putting themselves under the command of Martin,
entered the church with the rest.

After the service all went to the baths, where
the old men and women were usually cupped, that
being also one of the duties of the pilgrims.
After the bath, they went to the numerous stands
and booths to buy presents for those at home. The
miller’s wife bought a great many pictures, rosaries,
images, and other gifts; for she said: “I have my
help, the people come in with the grist, and each
expects something from the pilgrimage, so I must
have a goodly supply.”
THE GRANDMOTHER. Ig!

Not far from Grandmother stood Mrs. Fousek
who wanted to buy a bladder - nut rosary; but when
the shopkeeper told her it was twenty kreutzers,
new coin, she laid it back, saying it was too dear.

“Too dear!” exclaimed the excited shopman,
“you never saw a bladder-nut rosary in your life,
if you say this is too dear. You had better buy a
gingerbread one.”

“ Well, sir, it may not be too dear for others,
but it is too dear for me, for twenty kreutzers is all
the money I have in the world,” she replied, sadly.

Mrs. Fousek went away, but Grandmother fol-
lowed her, and advised her to go to another stand,
where everything was a great deal cheaper. And
behold! that shopman seemed to sell everything for
a song, just as Grandmother wanted it, so that the
twenty kreutzers paid not only for the bladder - nut
rosary, but also for pictures and various knicknacks.

When she left the stand, Barunka said: “ Grand-
ma, you paid the shopman what was lacking; I
saw how you winked at him, when Mrs. Fousek
was not looking.”

“Suppose you saw, that is no reason why you
should tell. The left hand must not know what
the right hand doeth,” replied Grandmother.

Christina bought a silver ring with two flaming
hearts, and Milo seeing this at once bought one
that had two clasped hands. All these things the
pilgrims had touched with relics or blessed; and a
rosary, ring, picture, or prayer book so “ touched ”
or blessed was kept as a precious memento.

All the duties being performed, the pilgrims
thanked their friends for their hospitality, prayed
once more by the sacred well, and commending
192 THE GRANDMOTHER.

themselves to the care of the Mother of Christ,
began the homeward journey. After going some
distance, they reached Hertin forest, and being
weary sat down to rest near a spring of water not
far from The Nine Crosses. Being thirsty and
seeing that Christina gave Milo some water from
the palm.of her hand, they asked her to give them
some too, which she willingly did. The older peo-
ple sat down in the grass, and began to examine
one another’s purchases, and to discuss the other
processions. The girls went into the woods to
gather flowers for garlands, and the boys went to
put in order a large grave upon which were the
nine crosses.

“ Nannie, please tell me why those nine crosses
are here,” asked Barunka, arranging the flowers
for the bouquet Anna was making

“Listen then, Ill tell you. Not far from here
is the ruin of an old fortress which is called Vizem-
burg. Inolden times a squire dwelt there who was
called Herman; he was in love with a girl from
one of the villages. Another suitor tried to win
her, but she did not like him and gave her hand to
Herman. On the morning of her wedding day
Herman’s mother brought him a red apple, and
asked him why he was so sober. He replied that
he did not know. The mother then begged him
not to go to the wedding, because she had had bad
dreams; but he hastily arose, bade his mother fare-
well, mounted his steed, and started. The steed
refused to go through the gate; the mother again
begged him: ‘My son, remain at home; this is a
bad omen, some misfortune will happen.’ But he
would not obey; putting spurs to his steed, he
THE GRANDMOTHER. 193

reached the bridge. The steed reared on his hind
legs and again refused to go; and the third time the
mother begged him not to go; but he gave no heed
to her words and went to meet his bride. When
the wedding party reached this place, they were
stopped by the other young man with his comrades.
The two rivals began to fight and Herman was
killed. When the bride saw her lover killed, she
plunged a knife into her heart. The wedding
guests killed the rival, and it was said that nine
persons perished in that battle. They were buried
in the same grave and nine crosses were placed here
to their memory. These crosses are kept in repair
by the pilgrims, and when we.come here, in the
summer, we hang garlands upon them and offer a
Pater-noster for their souls.”

Anna finished the tale, but Mrs. Fousek who
was near, gathering mushrooms, and who had
heard part of it, shook her head and said: “ Your
story is not quite correct, Anna. Herman was a
squire from Litobor, and not from Vizemburg, and
the bride was from Svatonovitz. He was killed,
together with his attendants, before he reached the
bride; she-looked for him, but he never came. She
sat down to the table, when suddenly she heard the
tolling of the bell; she asked her mother three
times for whom the bell tolled; but she would not
tell her the truth, saying it was for this one or that
one, till finally they took her to the chamber where
Herman was laid out. Filled with despair she
stabbed herself through the heart. They buried
them all here. That is the way I heard it,” added
Mrs. Fousek.

“ Who can decide which story is the true one,

13
194 THE GRANDMOTHER.

since it happened so long ago. No matter how it
happened, it is a pity it ever happened. It would
have been better could they have been married and
lived happily.”

“Jn that case no one would ever have heard of
them; we could not decorate their graves with
flowers,” said Tomesh fixing the fir cross that was
broken down.

“ Yes, but what does that amount to? I should
not want to be such a bride,” replied Anna.

“Nor I,” said Christina, coming with the fin-
ished garlands.

“Well, T should not want to be killed on my
wedding day,” said Milo; “but after all Herman
was more fortunate than his rival. It must have
been dreadful for him to see the maid he loved car-
ried to the home of another. For that reason we
ought: to pray the more fervently for him, for he
died guilty: and unhappy, while Herman was happy
and in God’s grace.”

The girls hung the garlands upon the crosses,
scattered the rest of the flowers over the moss cov-
ered mound, and having offered up their prayers
returned to the rest of the pilgrims. Presently the
leader took his cane, the boys raised the cross, and
Singing they turned their steps homeward. Not
far from Zernov, at the crossroads the villagers
‘were already waiting for them. As soon as the
‘villagers heard the song and caught a glimpse of
the red streamers, the children rushed forward to
meet them. Before they reached the village, the
boys blew their new trumpets, whistled on new
whistles, and chased about with wooden horses; the
‘girls ‘carried dolls, little baskets, pictures, and gin-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 195

gerbread hearts. After praying in the chapel, the
pilgrims thanked their leader, the cross was placed
in the chapel, the garland with streamers was hung
upon the altar, and the pilgrims scattered to their
respective homes.

At parting, when Christina was giving her hand
to Anna, the latter noticed the silver ring that was
glistening on Christina’s finger, and smiling she
asked: “ That is not the one you bought?”

Christina blushed, but before she could reply,
Milo whispered to Anna: “She gave me her
heart, I gave her my hand.”

“A good exchange, may God bless you,
plied Anna.

At the mill, by the statue under the lindens sat
the Proshek family and the miller; from time to
time they turned their eyes to Zernov hill; they
were waiting for the pilgrims. When the sun was
sending its last rays upon the hills, and bathing the
tops of the oaks and ash trees in a flood of golden
light, white kerchiefs and straw hats gleamed
through the green branches, and the children, who
had been watching the hill most intently, cried out:
“They are coming!” and started to meet them.
Mr. and Mrs. Proshek and the miller slowly fol-
lowed. The children hung about Grandmother and
kissed her as if she had been gone ayear. Barunka,
with much pride, declared that she was not at all
tired. Grandmother asked the children if they had
missed her, and the miller’s wife asked her hus-
band: “ What’s the news?” “Our old goose lost
her shoes,” he replied, and added, very soberly:
“Tt was a great calamity, mother.”

” re-
196 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“There is no talking with you,” she replied,
giving him a smart stroke upon the hand.

“When you are at home, he teases you; but
when you are away he goes about like a wet
chicken,” remarked Mrs. Proshek.

« That is the way, those men appreciate us only
when they miss us.”

Thus the conversation began, but it proved to be
unending. The pilgrimage to Svatonovitz was to
the inhabitants of this quiet hamlet an event of the
greatest importance. It furnished a theme for con-
versation for at least two weeks. When one of the
neighbors had occasion to go to Vamburg, it was
discussed six months before and six months after,
and a pilgrimage to Maria Zell was talked of for a
whole year.
CHAPTER X.

HE Princess is gone, and with her the
Countess; the father is gone, and the merry
swallows, whose homes were under the eves, are
gone, too. For several days it has seemed at
Proshek’s as it does after a funeral; the mother’s
eyes are often red from weeping, and the children
seeing this weep, too.

“ Now, Theresa, dry your eyes,” Grandmother
would say. ‘“ What good does it do to cry? You
knew what you had to expect when you married,
so now have patience. And you, children, rather
than shed tears, pray God to keep your father in
good health, so that when spring comes he may
return to us.”

“ When the swallows return, Grandma?” asked
Adelka.

“ Certainly, my dear,” replied Grandmother, and
the child dried her tears.

Around the Bleachery it was sad and quiet.
The foliage in the forest grew less and less dense;
when Victorka came down the hill she could be
seen from afar. The hill grew yellow, the wind
and streams carried away heaps of dried leaves
no one knew whither. The wealth of the orchard
was hidden in the store-room, and in the garden
only asters and kitchen and French marigolds were
seen; and the fireflies played their games near the
dam in the meadow saffron. When the children

197
198 THE GRANDMOTHER.

went out walking, the boys took their kites to let
them fly on the top of the hill. Adelka followed
them, catching upon a switch the fine threads of
gossamer that floated in the breeze. Barunka
gathered viburnum and haw berries for Grand-
mother, which she used in her medicines, and hips
for culinary purposes; or she picked mountain ash
berries to make bracelets and necklaces for Adelka.
Grandmother loved to sit with the children on the top
of the hill behind the castle. Before them spread a
beautiful valley, where a herd of cattle was grazing;
they could see even to the village, and at their feet
was the castle, built upon a small elevation and
surrounded by a park. AIl was now changed.
The green curtains were drawn, no flowers were
seen on the balcony, and the roses on the sides of
the balustrade were faded; instead of attendants in
livery, common laborers were seen in the garden,
covering the plants with branches of evergreen.
No beautiful flowers were seen, but the germs of
them were hidden beneath the covering, and in due
time would delight the eye of their mistress. Rare
exotics, deprived of their green robes, were rolled
up in straw; the fountains, sending forth silvery
streams of water were protected with moss and
lumber, and the golden fishes had hidden in the
bottom of the pools whose surface, at other
times so clear, was now covered with leaves, duck
weed, and greenslime. The children looked down
to the castle and thought of the time when they
walked with Hortense in the garden; they remem-
bered how beautiful everything was when they
breakfasted with her, and wondered where she was
now. Grandmother, however, preferred to look
THE GRANDMOTHER. 199

beyond the opposite hill, beyond the villages,
wards, groves, and forests, to the new town, clear to
Dobrau, where dwelt her son, and beyond Dobrau,
among the hills, to the little village that held so
many souls dear to her. When she turned her eyes
to the east, there lay before her a beautiful half
garland of the Riesengebirge, from the rough,
projecting back-bone of Heyshov to the summit of
the snow cap. Pointing to Heyshov, Grandmother
said: “ There I know every nook; there in those
mountains is Kladrau, where your mother was
born, there is Vamberitz and Varta; in those
regions I spent many happy days.”

She fell into a deep reverie, out of which she
was awakened by Barunka’s question:

“Js Varta the place where Sybilla sits upon that
marble horse? ”

“ They say it is upon a hill near Varta. She
sits upon a marble horse,— herself made of marble,
—and has her hand raised up to heaven. When
she sinks into the ground so that not even the end
of her finger will be visible, her prophecy will be
fulfilled. My father said he saw her, and then the
horse was in the sand clear to his breast.”

“ Who was that Sybilla?” asked Adelka.

“ Sybilla was a wise woman, who could foretell
the future.”

“What did she foretell? ” asked the boys.

“ T have told you already several times,” replied
Grandmother.

“ We have forgotten.”

«“ But you should not forget.”

“ Grandma, I remember some of it,” said
Barunka, who always listened with great attention;
200 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ Did not Sybilla prophesy that much misery was
to come to Bohemia, that there would be wars,
famines, and plagues, but that the worst time would
come when the father did not understand the son,
the brother his brother, when the given word or
promise would not be held sacred; that then the
Bohemian land should be carried over the earth
upon the-hoofs of horses?”

“ You have remembered well, but God forbid
that any such thing should ever happen!” sighed
Grandmother.

Barunka, kneeling at Grandmother’s feet,
her clasped hands upon her knees, her bright eyes
fixed confidently upon that old dignified face,
asked further: “ What was that prophecy you told
us about the Blanik Knights, St. Vaclav and
St. Prokop?”

“ That is the prophecy of the Blind Youth,”
replied Grandmother.

«“ O, Grandma, sometimes I am so afraid that I
cannot even express it; you would not want our
country to be carried over the earth upon the hoofs
of horses, would you?”

“Dear child, how could I wish such a misfor-
tune! do we not pray every day for our country,
because it is our mother? Well, if I saw my mother
going to destruction, could I be indifferent? What
would you do, if somebody wanted to kill your
mother?”

“We should cry and scream,” quickly replied
the boys.

“You are but children,” smiled Grandmother.

“We should have to help her, shouldn’t we?”
asked Barunka, her eyes brightening.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 201

“ That’s right, my child, that’s right; that is the
proper thing to do; crying and screaming profit
little,” said she, laying her hand upon her grand-
daughter’s head.

«“ But, Grandma, we are so little, how could we
help?” asked John, vexed that her opinion of him
was so unfavorable.

“ Don’t you remember what I told you about the
young David, how he slew Goliath? You see even
the little one can accomplish much when he has
faith in God, —don’t you forget this. When you
grow up, you will go into the world, see good and
evil, be enticed and led away into temptation. Then
think of your Grandmother and what she used to
tell you. You know that I gave up a good living
which the king of Prussia offered me, and preferred
labor and great hardships rather than see my child-
ren estranged. Therefore, you, too, must love your
country as you love your mother; work for her as
dutiful children, and the, prophecy you fear will
never be fulfilled. I cannot hope to see you grown
up, but I believe you will remember my words,”
she added, with a voice trembling with emotion.

“T shall never forget them,” said Barunka, hid-
ing her face in Grandmother’s lap.

The boys stood silent; they did not understand
their grandmother’s words as Barunkadid. Adelka,
clinging close to her asked with a voice broken by
sobs: “ You are not going to die, are you!”

“« My dear child, everything in the world is only
for a time, and some day God will call me,” she
replied, pressing the little one to her bosom. They
were silent for some time; Grandmother was buried
in thought, and the children did not know what
202 THE GRANDMOTHER.

to say. The silence was broken by the rustling of
wings, and when they raised their eyes, they saw a
flock of birds sailing in the air above them.

“These are wild geese,” said Grandmother;
“they always go in small flocks consisting of one
family only, and their way of flying is different
from that of other birds. Observe! two fly in the
front, two behind, and the rest go in single file,
either lengthwise or crosswise, unless they make a
half circle. Jackdaws, crows, and swallows go in
large flocks. Several go in front, these seek a place
of rest on their journey. In the rear and on the
sides fly the guards, which in time of danger pro-
tect the female birds and the young; for often they
meet an unfriendly flock and then a battle is fought.”

“But, Grandma, how can they fight a battle
when they have no hands in which to hold swords
and guns?” asked Willie.

“ They fight in a manner peculiar to themselves;
they peck with their bills, and strike with their
wings as .cruelly as people do with sharp weapons.
In such a battle many fall to the ground dead.”

“‘ How foolish they are,” cried John.

“My boy, God has endowed man with reason,
and yet how often for mere trifles men will fight
till they destroy one another,” said Grandmother,
rising from the bench and preparing to go. “ Look!
the sun is about to set, the west is scarlet, to-morrow
it will rain.” Turning to the mountains, she added:
“and Snowcap has a hood.”

“ Poor Mr. Beyer! what hard times he will have
when he must travel through the woods,” said
Willie, thinking of the gamekeeper of the Riesen-
gebirge mountains,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 203

“Every occupation has its hardships; but when
one chooses it, he must be willing to suffer the evil
with the good, even should it be a matter of life
and death,” replied Grandmother.

“T shall be a gamekeeper, anyhow, and go with
Mr. Beyer” said John courageously, and letting
his kite fly he ran down the hill, Willie following;
they heard the call for the cattle which the cow-
herd was driving home from the pasture, and the
children loved to look at those beautiful cows that
went in front of the herd, with red straps on their
necks, upon which were hung brass bells, each hav-
ing a different sound. One could see that they
understood, for they proudly tossed their heads
from side to side. Adelka seeing them coming,
began to sing:

“ Heigh—ho! the cows come home,
Through the meadow, by the stream,
Bringing us both milk and cream.

Grandmother was looking for Barunka, who
still stood upon the hill, gazing upon the beautiful
sunset. Here the outlines of the hills were seen in
huge sketches upon the bright background; then
the small elevations, upon whose tops were castles
and churches, were set against the sky. From the
level plain stretched up slender pillars connected by
arches, like Gothic architecture, and all the dark
figures were bordered by golden hieroglyphics and
arabesques. These mountains, forests and castles
disappeared, and forms even more strange appeared
in their places. Barunka was so delighted that she
called her grandmother to come up once more to
see the beautiful sight; but she said her feet were
204 THE GRANDMOTHER.

not so young as they once had been, so Barunka
came down to the rest of the party.

On All Saints’ day the children, as usual, going
out to meet Grandmother coming from church,
said: “To-day we shall get some candles from
church.” And Grandmother brought the candles.

“ When we cannot goto the graveyard to offer
them for the souls, we will light them at home,”
she said. Thus in their own home each year they
celebrated the festival for the dead. On All Souls’
day, * in the evening, they set up the candles on the
table, and as they were lighting them named the
souls for whom they were offered. At last they
lighted several without any name saying: “Let
those burn for the souls that are un-remembered.”

“Grandma, may I light one for that unfortunate
wedding in Hertin forest?” asked Barunka.

“ Yes, yes, my child; our prayer will be accept-
able to them.” One more was lighted. Grand-
mother and the children knelt around the table and
prayed as long asthe candles burned. Grandmother
ended the prayer with the words: “Let the Eternal
Light shine for them, and may their souls rest in
peace!” to which the children said: “ Amen.”

A week after All Souls’ day, when Grandmother
called the children in the morning, she told them
that St. Martin had come upon a white horse.
They jumped out of bed and ran to the windows, —
and lo! everything was white. Not a single trace
of green leaves was seen upon the hill side, nor on
the willows by the river, nor on the alders by the
pond. The only green things in the woods were

* On All Souls’ day the graves are decorated and candles lighted
for the souls of the dead.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 205

the firs and balsams, the branches of which bent
down beneath their loads of snow. Upon the
mountain ash, which stood near the house and had
still a few bunches of frozen berries, a crow sat,
and the poultry in the yard stood quiet, looking
with wonder upon this strange sight. The sparrows,
however, hopped about merrily, picking up the
grain that the chickens had left. The cat, returning
from the chase, at each step shook the snow from
her paws, and hastened to her favorite place upon
the oven. The dogs, wet to their knees chased
each other playfully in the snow.

“Snow! snow! That is good! we shall ride
down the hill!” shouted the children, welcoming
the winter which brought them new pleasures.
St. Martin brought them good rolls, and after St.
Martin would come the feather bees.* They liked
the spinning bees much better, for then they had
more liberty. When the women got around the long
kitchen table, and on it appeared a great heap of
feathers, like a snow bank, then Grandmother kept
driving Adelka and the boys away. Once, while
John wasat the table, he fell into the feathers, and the
rumpus thus made can easily be imagined. From
that time Grandmother did not think it advisable to
allow the children to come near the table. Indeed,
they did not dare to play near it or blow, or open
the door too wide, for in that case they got a scold-
ing at once. The only pleasant things about the
feather bees were the puchalka,f and the stories
about ghosts and robbers, about lights and fiery
men. On long, foggy evenings, as the women

* Gatherings at which feathers are stripped.
t Pease first soaked and then roasted.
206 THE GRANDMOTHER.

went from village to village, it often happened that
one was frightened here and another there; and
when once they started to talk about it, there was
no end to the stories,for each one knew several
similar instances. The Kramolna thieves, going
to prison in the spring and returning in the fall,—
people said they had been at school, for they
always learned something,— often furnished topics
for conversation, Speaking of them, they began
to talk of thieves in general, and then they related
stories of bands of robbers. The children sat as
still as mice, but for the whole world they would
not have ventured out of doors. For this reason,
Grandmother was never pleased with such conver-
sation; still she could not stem this general current
of thought.

After St. Martin’s there was a market in town.
Mrs. Proshek, taking Betsey and Vorsa with her,
went there to buy crockery, and whatever else was
needed for the winter. Thechildren awaited their
mother’s return with the greatest impatience, for
she always brought them some toys and ginger-
bread; and Grandmother got each year woolen
stockings, a pair of fur-lined shoes, and half adozen
strings for her spinning wheel.

As she was putting them away in the side
drawer in her chest, she would say to John: «If
it were not for you, one string would be all I’d
want.”

This time Adelka got a wooden block on which
was the alphabet. “ To-morrow, when the school-
master comes, you can begin to learn; you don’t
know what to do with yourself while the others
are studying; and since you remember the Lord’s
THE GRANDMOTHER. 207

prayer and various songs, you can learn the a, 4, ¢,
too,” said her mother.

The child skipped for joy, and immediately
began to examine the letters with great attention;
the clever Willie offered to teach her a, e, 7, 0, #,
but she hid the block behind her back, saying: “TI
don’t want to learn from you, you don’t know it as
well as the schoolmaster.”

“ Asif I didn’t know my letters when I can
read from a book,” said the boy, much hurt.

“ But the letters are not the same as in the
book,” replied the sister.

*“ O, how foolish you are,” exclaimed Willie,
clasping his hands in astonishment.

“ T don’t care,” said Adelka with a toss of her
head, and went with her letters to the window.

While these two were quarreling over the let-
ters, John, together with Sultan and Tyrol, was
making a concert in the kitchen; he blew the
trumpet and beat the drum which his mother had
brought him from the market. The dogs did not
seem to appreciate his music, for Sultan barked and
Tyrol howled in a way that was fearful to hear.
Grandmother was in the storeroom with her
daughter putting away the purchases; hearing this
music they both rushed into the kitchen. “ Didn’t
I say so? it is that reprobate of ours; there isn’t a
good bone in his body. Say, will you stop!”

John took the trumpet out of his mouth and, as
if he had not heard what Grandmother said,
laughed, saying: “Look at those dogs, how mad
they are; they do not seem to like my music.”

“ If those dogs could speak they would tell you
to go to the Old Nick with such music, you under-
208 THE GRANDMOTHER,

stand? Put those things away instantly. If you
will be such a bad boy, this year, I shall surely
complain of you to St. Nicholas, and he’ll not give
you anything,” threatened Grandmother.

“ That would be a good thing; they say that
St. Nicholas brought a whole wagonload of toys
to town, and that he will be very generous this
year,— to those who are obedient,” said  Vorsa,
who, standing in the door, heard Grandmother’s
words.

The next day, as soon as the schoolmaster came,
Adelka got her block and sat down with the rest
of the children; she gave good heed, and in an hour
she came running to Grandmother with great joy,
saying she knew all the letters in the first row, and
read them, together with the signs that the school-
master had made to help her to remember them.
Both her mother and her Grandmother were well
pleased with her, especially when the next day
she still remembered them; and since Grandmother
was obliged to hear her recite them so often, she
finally learned them herself. “ Well, well,” said
she to herself, “never in my life did I think I could
yet learn the a, 6,c, and now I have learned it.
With children one must again bea child.”

One day, John rushed into the room with the
words: “ Children, children, come see, Grandma
has brought down her spinning wheel from the
garret.”

“ What of it?” said the mother, as she saw all,
even Barunka, rushing out of the door.

Certainly it was nothing, but she did not con-
sider what pleasures were brought with the spin-
ning wheel. With it came the spinners, and with
THE GRANDMOTHER. 209

them beautiful stories and merry songs... The
mother, indeed, found no pleasure either in the
stories or in the songs; she preferred to remain in
her sitting room and read books from the castle
library, and when Grandmother said: “ Tell us
something from those histories,” the mother com-
plied with her request; but the children were not
half so interested as when she told them about the
life in Vienna; and when the spinners said: “ How
beautiful it must be in such a city,” not desiring,
however, to see it, the children thought: “Qh, that
we were grown up, so that we could go there,
too.”

All, except the mother, liked best to listen when
Grandmother told stories about princesses: with
golden stars upon their foreheads, about knights
and princes turned by enchantment into dogs and
lions, or even into stones, about nuts, in whose
shells were folded whole wardrobes of magnificent
garments, about golden castles and seas, at- whose
bottom lived water nymphs. The mother never
suspected, while she combed Barunka’s hair, that
the child, buried in deep reverie, and gazing’ out of
the window, saw upon the bare hillsidé and the
snow-covered valley, a garden of paradise, a palace
of costly stones, birds of brilliant plumage; ladies,
whose hair of pure gold, came down to’ their feet;
that the frozen river changed for her into: a blue,
billowy sea, upon whose waves nymphs sailed in
pearly shells. Sultan, who lay snoring , stretched
upon the floor, never dreamed of the honor the
boys gave him when they looked. upon him as an
enchanted prince. How pleasant it. was-in the
room as soon as it was dusk! Vorsa closed the

14
210 THE GRANDMOTHER.

blinds, the pitch pine cracked. in the stove,
in the middle of the room a large wooden can-
dlestick was placed, in whose iron arms were
burning faggots, around it were benches for the
spinners, for whom Grandmother always had
ready a basket of dried apples and prunes, “ just for
a bite,” as she said. With what impatience the
children waited to hear the click of the door latch
in the hall when the spinners entered the room.
During this time Grandmother would not begin to
tell anything, but waited until all the spinners
were present. In the day time she sang Advent
hymns.

When, as yet, the children did not know her
well, her good and ill humor, they thought they
could tease her till she told them a story. But she
disposed of them quickly. Sometimes she began
to tell them about the shepherd who had three
hundred sheep, and who, driving them to pasture,
came to a footbridge over which only one could go
at a time; “ Now we must wait till they cross,” she
said, and became silent. In a little while the chil-
dren asked: “ Are they over?” She replied: “ What
are you thinking of? it will take at least two
hours.” They knew what that meant. Another time
she said: “You think I have seventy-seven pock-
ets and a story in each. Very well, out of which
pocket do you want one?” “ Perhaps from the
tenth,” said the children. “Very well. In the
the tenth pocket is this story

“ There was once a king, who had a ring, in
which he rolled a tomcat bold. Now listen, for
it will be very long,” and that was the end of that
story. |
THE GRANDMOTHER. 211

The worst story was about Red Ridinghood.
The children could not endure that one, and usually
ran away; with every other story they could coax
Grandmother to keep still or talk about something
else, but here they did not dare to say a word
unless they wanted’ to hear it repeated.* The
children finally learned to wait patiently for the
spinners. The first who came were Christina and
Milo, then Celia Kuderna, the friend of Betsey and
Vorsa; sometimes the miller’s wife came, too, with
Manchinka and the gamekeeper’s wife, and once a
week Christina brought with her Anna, who was
now the wife of Tomesh. When the spinning
was over, her husband came to see her safe
home.

While the women were warming themselves
and getting ready for the work, they spoke of
various things. One told the news from the village,
another that which had been heard in town; or if
there happened to be some holiday, with which
there was connected some national custom or some
superstition, this also furnished a topic of conver-
sation. For example, on the eve of St. Nicholas,
Christina asked Adelka if she had her stocking
hung up, for St. Nicholas was already going through
the village. “Grandma will hang it up for me,
when I go to bed,” said the child.

“You must not hang up your own stocking, it’s
too small. Ask Grandma to lend you hers,” sug-
gested Christina.

*This story about Red Ridinghood is not the one commonly known
in America as well asin Europe. The story teller begins by saying:
‘* Now I'll tell you the story about Red Ridinghood.”” Most probably
the listener will say: ‘‘Very well,’’ upon which the tellersays: ‘I wasn’t
going to tella story about ‘very well’ but about Red Ridinghood,”
and so on, each time repeating what the listener says.
212 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“That won’t do, for the rest of us would be
cheated,” said John.

“You won’t get anything anyhow but a switch,”
teased Christina.

Oh, but St. Nicholas knows that Grandma has
had one hidden since last year and that she never
whips us,” replied John. Grandmother, however,
remarked that it was not because he had not
deserved it.

Lucie’s day was very disagreeable to the children.
The superstition was, that on this night, Lucie a
tall woman in white, with long, disheveled hair,
went about seeking disobedient children. “ Coward-
ice is folly,” said Grandmother, who was not at all
pleased when the children were taught to be afraid.
She used to teach them to fear nothing except
God’s displeasure; but she could not, like their
father, prove to them that no such things existed as
watermen, fiery dragons, will o’the wisps, fiery
men that roll before the observer like a bundle of
straw; for her own belief in them was too deeply
rooted in her mind. To her, the various forms in
nature were animate with good or evil spirits; she
believed in a wicked infernal spirit, that God sends
upon the earth to try the souls of his people. She
believed it all, but was not afraid; for she possessed
a firm living faith in God, in whose power is the
whole earth, heaven, and hell, and without whose
permission not a hair falls from our heads.

This confidence in God she tried to instil into
the hearts of the children. So, when on Lucie’s
day Vorsa began to talk about the woman in white,
Grandmother told her to be quiet, for she had
never heard that Lucie ever harmed any one.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 213

Milo was the most welcome visitor, for with his
jack knife he made the boys little sleighs, plows,
and wagons, or prepared the faggots for lighting,
and the boys did not stir a step from him. When
the spinners related ghost stories, and Willie clung
to him, he would say: “Don’t you be afraid,
Willie; against the devil we will take the cross, and
a cane for the ghost, and we'll beat them both.”

This pleased the boys and they would have gone
anywhere with Milo, even at midnight. Grand-
mother agreeing with him said: “A man is a man.”

«“ Yes, indeed, and Milo is not afraid even of the
devil, nor of the steward, who is worse than the
devil,” said Christina.

“ How is it, Milo, is there any prospect of your
getting work on the manor farm?” asked Grand-
mother.

“JT fear not, they are pressing upon me from
two directions, and several malicious women are
meddling with my business,” replied Milo.

“ Do not speak in this way, perhaps it may yet
be arranged,” said Christina sorrowfully.

“T desire it as much as you; but, really, I see no
way out of the difficulty. The steward’s daughter
can never forgive me for that trick I played upon
the Italian. They say she was in love with him,
and when, on account of that trouble, he was dis-
charged by the Princess, the young lady’s plans
were brought to naught. Now she uses all her in-
‘fluence to induce her father not to take me into
service. That is one enemy, the other is Lucie,
the Squire’s daughter. She has taken it into her
head that I shall be her king on Long Night,*

*A festival held by the spinners.
214 THE GRANDMOTHER.

and as I cannot accept that distinction her father
will be angry, and when spring comes I suppose I
shall sing:
«¢ Alas, no longer am I free,
For soon a soldier I must be.’”

As Milo began to sing, the girls joined in, but
Christina burst into tears.

“ Never mind, my girl; it is long before spring,
and who knows what God has in store for us,”
said Grandmother, trying to comfort her.

She wiped her eyes, but remained sad the rest
of the evening.

“Don’t worry about it; perhaps, after all, father
will be able to manage the matter,” said Milo, sit-
ting down beside her.

“Could you not be that king without compro-
mising yourself?” asked Grandmother.

“ Of course I could, Grandma;some fellows wait
on two and even three girls at the same time, before
they select one for good, and girls do the same. I
should not be Lucie’s first admirer, and should not
be obliged to be the last; and yet among us it is an
unheard-of thing that a fellow should woo two girls
at once, and when one is the ‘ King,’ it is almost
the same as if he went to the wedding.”

“In that case you do well not to go,” replied
Grandmother.

“© What has possessed Lucie, that she wants only
you, as if there were not plenty of other boys in
the village,” scolded Christina.

“ The miller would say ‘ There is no accounting
for tastes,’ ” replied Grandmother smiling.

When the Christmas holidays were drawing
near, the conversation was varied with talks about
THE GRANDMOTHER. 215

the baking of Christmas rolls, discussions about the
fineness of the flour and how much butter each
intended to use; the girls also talked about melting
the lead, the children, of the good loaves, the sail-
ing of candles in nut shells, and the little Jesus *
bringing them presents.

*In Bohemia there are two festivals when presents are given. St.
Nicholas day, on the 6th of December, and Christmas day. The child-
ren believe that on the latter day, the child Jesus makes them presents,
CHAPTER XI.

T was the custom at the mill, the gamekeeper’s
lodge, and The Old Bleachery, that whoever
came on Christmas eve or Christmas day had all
he wanted to eat and drink; if no one had come
Grandmother would have gone to the cross roads
to look for somebody. Her joy can be imagined
when, unexpectedly, her son Caspar with her neph-
ew from Olesnic came the day before Christmas.
For a whole half day she wept with joy, and every
few moments she left her baking and ran into the
room to look at them, to ask her nephew how this
one and that one were doing in her old home; and
again and again she said to the children: “ Your
grandfather looked exactly as you see your uncle
here, only he was a great deal taller.” The children
examined their uncle and cousin from all directions,
and were much pleased with them, especially
since they replied pleasantly to their endless ques-
tions.

Every year, the children wanted to fast the day
before Christmas, so that in the evening they might
see the golden pigs; * but they never succeeded in
keeping the fast the whole day. Their intentions
were good, but their wills were weak. On Christ-
mas eve everybody received a goodly share of dain-

* The children are told that if they will fast the whole day, in the
evening they will see beautiful golden pigs running about the room. As
no child ever succeeded in keeping the good resolution the promised
pigs are never seen,

216
THE GRANDMOTHER. 217

ties, and even the poultry and cattle were not for-
gotten when the Christmas loaves were cut. After
supper, Grandmother took a part of the contents of
each dish, half of which she threw into the stream
that the water might remain pure, and buried the
other half under a tree in the orchard that the
ground might be fertile. She brushed the crumbs
up carefully and threw them into the fire, so that it
should do no damage.

After the work was done, Betsey took a branch
of sweet elder and shaking it, recited:

“Sweet elder I shake, I shake!
Tell me, ye dogs that wake,
Where is my lover to-night.”

Then she listened to ascertain in what direction
the dogs were barking.

In the sitting room the girls were melting to-
gether wax and lead,* and the children were sail-
ing candles in nutshells.

John secretly pushed the pan of water so that it
moved, and the shells, which represented the ships
of life, sailed from the edge to the center of the
water; then he cried joyfully: “ Look, look, I shall
get far, far into the world!”

“My dear boy, when you get into the current
of life, among its eddies and rocks, when the waves
dash your boat hither and thither, then you will
think with longing of the quiet haven from which
you sailed,” said the mother in a low tone, cutting
his apple, “ for luck,” through its wide part. The
seeds made a star, three of its rays being clear and
sound, two imperfect and worm-eaten. Laying it

* A species of fortune telling, the form which the wax and lead as-
sume on cooling indicating what will happen to the person during the
coming year.
218 (THE GRANDMOTHER.

aside with a sigh, she cut Barunka’s, and again the
star was imperfect. She said to herself: “ Neither
one will be completely happy!” Then she cut
Willie’s and Adelka’s, and in those the stars were
clear and sound, but had only four rays. “ These
perhaps may be happier,” thought the mother,
when Adelka interrupted her by complaining that
her boat would not go from the shore, and that her
candle was almost burnt down.

“ Mine, too, is going out, and did not get very
far,” said Willie.

At that moment somebody pushed the pan, the
water was covered with waves, and the boats in the
middle went down.

“ See, see, you'll die before we do!” cried Adelka
and Willie.

“No matter, since we shall go far,” replied Ba-
runka, and John agreed with her; but the mother
looked sadly at the extinguished candles, and a pre-
sentiment took possession of her soul, that perhaps,
after all, this innocent, childish play was the fore-
shadowing of their future.

“Will the child Jesus bring us something?”
whispered the children to Grandmother, when the
table was cleared.

“T cannot tell you that; you will hear, if he
rings,” replied Grandmother. The smaller children
took their post at the window, thinking that when
Jesus went by they would hear him. “Don’t you
know that Jesus can neither be seen nor heard?”
said Grandmother. “ He is in heaven sitting upon a
shining throne, and sends his gifts to good children
by angels, who bring them down upon golden
clouds. You will hear nothing but the bells.”
THE GRANDMOTHER. 219

The children looked out of the window, piously
listening to all Grandmother said. Just then a
bright light gleamed past the window, and the
sound of bells was heard. They clasped their hands,
while Adelka whispered: “Grandma, that was the
child Jesus, was it not?” Grandmother nodded.
Then the door opened, and the mother entered,
telling the children that Jesus had left gifts for
them in Grandmother’s room. When they saw a
beautiful lighted tree, their joy knew no bounds.
Grandmother was not familiar with this custom, it
not being common among the villagers, but she-
was much pleased with it, and, long before Christ-
mas, was careful to see that a tree was provided,
and helped her daughter to trim it.

“In Niesse and Kladrau this custom is celebrated;
do you recollect, Caspar? You were quite a boy
before we left,” said Grandmother addressing her
son. She then seated herself beside him, leaving
the children to enjoy their tree and their pres-
ents.

“ Of course I remember,” replied Caspar; “it isa
good custom and you did well, Theresa, to intro-
duce it here. The recollections of these domestic
festivities will be dear to the children when they
find themselves adrift in the world. When one is
away from home, one loves to think of this day. I
found it the case when I lived among strangers.
My masters were not hard,so that I had good
times; and yet I always thought, ‘Oh, that I could
be at home with my mother, to eat pudding with
honey, buns with poppy-seed sauce, and pease with
cabbage. I would have gladly exchanged all the
good things I had for that homely fare.”
220 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ Our own victuals,” smiled Grandmother, nod-
ding: “but you forget the mixture of dried fruit?”

“ Yes, but you know I never cared for it. I
have thought of something else that we all love to
hear; at Dobrau they call it ‘ music.’”

“Oh, I know what you mean! the shepherds’
Christmas carol; we have that here, too, you’ll hear
it before long,” said his mother, and hardly had she
spoken, when the shepherd’s horn was heard near
the window. First the melody of the carol was
played upon the horn and then the shepherds
sang: :

“ Arise! ye shepherds, arise!
Glad tidings to you we bring;
To day a Savior was born to us
In a manger in Bethlehem.”

“ You are right, Caspar. If I did not hear this
song, it would not seem like Christmas to me,”
said Grandmother, listening to the rest of the song
with much pleasure. Then she went out and
loaded the shepherds with Christmas dainties.

On St. Stephen’s, the boys went to sing Christmas
songs at the mill and at the gamekeeper’s; if they
had not come, the miller’s wife would have thought
that the ceiling must have come down, and she her-
self would have gone to The Old Bleachery to see
what had happened. Afterwards Bertie and Frank
came down to sing in return,

The Christmas holidays were over; the children
began to talk of the next holiday, of the Three
Kings or Wise Men of the East. Then the school-
master came and sang of Christ’s birth, and wrote
the names of the Three Wise Men upon the door.
After the Three Kings, the spinners celebrated
THE GRANDMOTHER. 221

their festival of the “Long Night.” To be sure,
at The Old Bleachery and at the mill it was not as
in the village, where there were many young peo-
ple; there they chose a king and queen, had a
dance, trimmed the spinning wheel, and crowned
the queen.

In The Old Bleachery a good supper was pre-
pared, the spinners came, sang, ate and drank, and
if by chance the hand organ was heard behind the
door, they danced in the kitchen. Tomesh, the
miller, and the gamekeeper, and several others
came, and the party was complete. The floor of
the kitchen was of bricks, but the girls did not
mind it, though some of them, who were too
careful of their shoes, took them off and danced
barefooted.

“What do you say, Grandma, couldn’t we have
a little hop together?” said the miller, who had
entered the kitchen among the young folks, where
Grandmother was watching the small fry who,
together with Sultan and Tyrol, were constantly
getting in the way of the dancers.

“OQ, my dear miller, there were times when I
did not care though my feet were full of bloody
blisters, if only Icoulddance. As soon asI showed
myself at the tavern, or in the summer on the
threshing floor, the boys would say: ‘ Madaline is
here, play Kalamajka, Vertak!* Murrah! Now
for it!’ and Madaline flew into the circle. But
now, good heavens! I’m like the steam over the
kettle.”

“ Indeed, Ido not doubt it, for you are still as
smart asa quail; come, let us try just a little dance.”

*Slavonic dances.
222 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Here is a dancer, who can turn like a spindle,”
laughed Grandmother, taking the hand of Anna,
Tomesh’s wife, who happened to be standing
behind the miller, listening to the conversation.

Gayly the young woman took the miller’s arm,
told Kuderna to play the first tune slowly, and
began to get her step ready for the dance. The
miller, willing or unwilling, had to start, while the
young people clapped their hands and shouted,
till the miller’s wife, hearing the noise, came to see
what was going on. Tomesh, seeing her, offered
her his arm, and she was soon following her hus-
band, and thus the old people also had a hop, and
Grandmother laughed at the miller’s expense.

“ Hardly was the Long Night over, when there
was merry making in the mill. A fat hog had
been killed, sausages were made, fried cakes were
cooked, and a sleigh was sent to get the friends
from the mill and the gamekeeper’s. Later, the
feast was at the gamekeeper’s, and at last at Pro-
shek’s.

Shortly after this, the young people came to
play Dorothea. Vaclav Kuderna acted the part of
King Diocletian, his sister Lida was the maid
Dorothea, the two courtiers, the judge, the execu-
tioner and his assistants were boys from Zernov.
The courtiers and the assistants carried bags for
such edibles as they hoped to receive. The pond
before Proshek’s house furnished a good skating
place; here the actors stopped to have a good time,
while Dorothea, the maid, shivering with cold
stood by and watched them. She urged them to
go, but her voice was drowned in the general
shouting, and they did not start until they had had
THE GRANDMOTHER. 223

their fill of skating, rolling, and tumbling over one
another. Then they entered the house, where the
dogs met them with a terrible barking; but the
children welcomed them with the greatest delight.
They remained near the door, where they laid down
their bags and put themselves in order for the play.
Their clothes were quite simple. The maid Doro-
thea had on her brother’s boots, a white dress that
Manchinka had lent her, and beneath her paper
crown she wore her mother’s white kerchief. The
boys wore paper caps, and to complete their
costumes they had white shirts over their other
clothes, fastened around the waist with bright
colored handkerchiefs. King Diocletian also had a
crown, and the beautiful cloak that hung so grace-
fully from his shoulders was his mother’s best
Sunday apron, which she had lent him as a special
favor. As soon as they had warmed themselves by
the fire, they took their stand in the middle of the
room to recite their parts; the children heard it
every year but never got tired of it. When the
heathen king, Diocletian, condemns the Christian
maid Dorothea to death, the assistants take her by
the arms and lead her to the block, where the
headsman stands with his sword raised up high, and
says with terrible pathos:

“Thou maid, Dorothea, kneel,
My sword do not thou fear;

Now bravely bend thy head
In a second, thou art dead!”

Dorothea kneels, bends her head, the headsman
cuts off her crown, and the assistant raises it in the
air. Then all bow, Dorothea picks up her crown
224 THE GRANDMOTHER.

and puts it back upon her head, and takes her stand
in the corner of the room, by the door.

“How well those children recite!” exclaimed
Vorsa; “I could listen to them the whole even-
ing.”

Grandmother, too, was not chary of her praise,
and the actors, with well-filled bags, sallied into the
yard. When they got behind the house they
examined the contents of their bags. The food
was at once divided equally among them, but the
money the king put into his own pocket, saying
that he had a right to do so, since as director of the
troupe he had assumed all the expenses and the
responsibility. After this just distribution of
profits, the party started for the gamekeeper’s.
For several days the children kept reciting the
verses and acting the part of Dorothea, but the
mother could not comprehend how any one could
enjoy such egregious nonsense.

One Sunday morning some time after this, a
handsome sleigh was seen in Proshek’s yard. When
the horses stirred, their bells jingled so loudly that
the crow, the winter boarder in the poultry yard,
flew away to the top of the mountain ash, and the
chickens and sparrows eyed the team curiously,
and seemed to say: “ What in the world can this
mean?” It was Shrovetide, and Mr. Stanicky had
come to take the Proshek family to town to spend
the day with him.

Grandmother, however, would not go; she said:
“What should I do there? leave me at home, such
company is not for me.” The Stanickys were
good, pleasant people; but as they kept a hotel, all
sorts of people met there, some from afar and quite
THE GRANDMOTHER. 225

stylish, and this was no company for our lowly
Grandmother

In the evening, when the family returned home,
the children related all they had seen and heard, .
and what nice things they had eaten. Here, how-
ever, Grandmother was not forgotten, for Mrs.
Stanicky never neglected to send her a large package
of good things. The children praised the music
and told her who were there. ,

“ Guess, Grandma, whom we saw?” said John.

“Well, whom ?” asked Grandmother.

“The peddler, Vlach, who comes to our house
and gives us figs! But you would not have known
him; he was clean, dressed up like a prince, and
had a gold watch chain!”

“One can afford to be extravagant when one has
a plenty; besides, you, too, do not go out among
people in your every day clothes. A person owes
it to himself and to society to dress as well as he
can afford.” ,

“But he must be rich,do you not think so,
Grandma? ”

« As I never looked into his chest, I cannot tell.
Doubtless he is, for he is a good business man.”

On the last day of Shrove-tide the masqueraders
came along with great parade, at their head Shrove-
tide himself. He was covered with pea straw, so
that he looked like a bear. Wherever he came, the
house-wife tore off a piece of the straw and saved
it to put into the nest the following spring, when
the goose was set, so that the eggs should hatch
well.

Shrove-tide passed by and with it all the winter
merry-makings. At her spinning Grandmother

15
226 THE GRANDMOTHER.

sang Lenten Hymns; when the children sat near
her, she told them stories from the life of Christ,
and the first Sunday in Lent she put on mourning.
The days grew longer, the sun shone with greater
power, and the warm wind carried away the snow
from the hillsides. The poultry cackled gayly in
the yard; and when the housekeepers met, they
talked of ‘setting hens and of sowing flax,and the
men prepared the ploughs and harrows. When the
gamekeeper wanted to come from the woods oppo-
site to The Old Bleachery, he could not cross the
river, for the ice was cracking and, as the miller said,
“ piece after piece was taking leave of its fellows.”

The Sundays came, “the Black,” “the Social,”
“the Sneezing,” and, finally, the long expected
“Death Sunday.” The children cried: “To-day
we will carry Death away,” and the girls added:
“ Now it is our turn to be waits.” * Adelka had
been saving eggshells all the week, and now Grand-
mother took these, together with some gay stream-
ers, and trimmed up a switch for her; this was
called “summer.” The girls prepared for the
spring merry-making. In the afternoon they met
at the mill to dress * Death.” Cilka Kuderna made
a straw dummy, and each girl contributed some
article of clothing; for the handsomer Miss Mawl-
ikin was, the greater was the credit which the girls
received. When she was dressed, two girls took
her by the arms, the rest formed a procession
behind, and dancing as they went, they sang:

“ Death from the village now we carry,

‘ New season come, and do not tarry.”

'

* Usually boys or men go out on the eve of festivals or holidays to
sing under the windows, but on Easter it is the privilege of the girls to
do the singing, or be “ waits.”
THE GRANDMOTHER. 2247

A few of the villagers followed them out some
distance, but the boys came close to them, making
gestures of contempt and trying to jerk off poor
Miss Mawlikin’s cap; but her escort protected her
well. Reaching the dam, they disrobed her and
with shouts of joy flung her into the water, and
then both boys and girls sang:

“ Death is floating down the stream,
A new season is drawing near,
Bringing eggs and Easter cheer.”
Then the girls sang alone:
“ Oh summer, summer so sweet,
Where hast thou been delayed?”
“To wash my hands and feet,
In the forest’s deepest shade.
The rose and the violet blue
Cannot bloom without God’s dew.”
Then the boys burst forth with their song:

“ St. Peter at Rome, be thine
The good will to send us some wine.
Thy praises we'll drink, and:sing
Till the woods with merriment ring.”

“Come in, come in, ye waits!” called Mrs. Pro-
shek, who had been outdoors listening to the songs
of the young people; “we cannot give you wine,
but we have something with which to make you
merry.”

The party still singing, entered the house, where
for some time they enjoyed themselves to their
heart’s content.

On the morning of Palm-Sunday, Barunka
went down to the river to pick some pussy-willows.
«They are already in blossom, as if they knew they
were wanted,” thought the child. When she went
228 THE GRANDMOTHER.

with Grandmother to early mass, each carried a
bunch to be blessed.

On Ash-Wednesday, when Grandmother had
finished her spinning and was carrying the spinning
wheel up into the garret, Adelka cried: “Oh, my!
the spinning wheel is going up to the garret.
Grandma will now use the spindle.”

“Tf God grants us life and health, next winter
we'll bring it down again,” replied Grandmother.

On Maundy-Thursday the -children knew they
would have nothing for breakfast but Judases *
with honey. At The Old Bleachery they had no
bees; but every year the miller sent them some
honey, and had promised them that as soon as a
good swarm was ready to leave, he would give it
to them; for he once heard Grandmother say that
she desired nothing so much as a beehive near the
house. “Everything seems more cheerful,” she
said, “when one sees those bees flying about so
busily all day long.”

“ Rise, Barunka, the sun will soon be up!” called
Grandmother early on Good-Friday, gently rapping
her grandchild on the forehead. Barunka opened
her eyes, and seeing Grandmother standing ‘by her
bed she recollected that she had asked to be awak-
ened for early prayers. She jumped out of bed,
put on her petticoat, and throwing a shawl over her
shoulders was ready to accompany Grandmother to
the hill. Vorsa and Betsey were awakened, too, but
not the little ones, for Grandmother said they did
not understand it yet. As soon as the kitchen
door squeaked, the poultry and cattle began to
stir, and the dogs jumped out of their kennels.

* A kind of flat biscuit baked only in Passion week.
THE GRANDMOTHER 229

Grandmother pushed them aside as she said: “ Have
patience till we have said our prayers.” When
Barunka, at Grandmother’s suggestion, had washed
her face in a stream of water, they went upon the
hillside to say nine Pater-nosters and nine Ave Ma-
rias, so that God would grant them for the whole
year cleanliness of body. Grandmother knelt down,
clasped her hands, and prayed fervently, her confid-
ing gaze turned to the crimson sunrise.

Barunka knelt beside her, fresh and rosy as a
bud. For awhile she, too, prayed fervently; but
soon her gaze wandered from the east to the woods
and over the meadows and hillsides. The river
still carried along with it pieces of snow and ice,
and the snow still lingered in the valleys; but here
and there were seen patches of green grass, the
early daisies were whitening the hillsides, the trees
and bushes were beginning to bud, and all nature
was awakening to a new life. The red clouds were
scattered in the skies, the golden rays rose higher
and higher behind the mountain, gilding the tree-
tops, till finally the sun showed itself in all its glory,
pouring a flood of light upon the whole hillside.
The opposite hillside was still in a dim light, behind
the dam the mists fell lower and lower, and above
them upon the opposite hill, the women of the mill
were seen kneeling in prayer.

“Look, Grandma! how beautiful the sun rises,”
said Barunka, all wrapped in wonder at the glori-
ous sight. “O that we were now on the top of
Snow Cap!”

«© All places are sacred to worship, for the earth
is the Lord’s,” replied Grandmother, making the
sign of the cross and rising from her prayers.
230 THE GRANDMOTHER.

When they turned, they saw a woman’s figure
standing on the top of the hill leaning against a
tree. It was Victorka. Her disheveled hair, damp
with the dews of night, hung about her face, her
throat was bare, her black eyes, gleaming with a
strange light, were fixed upon the rising sun, and
in her hand she held a primrose. Shedid not seem
to observe them. “Poor child, where has she
been wandering?” said Grandmother, pityingly.

“ And where could she have found that prim-
rose?” said Barunka.

“Somewhere upon the top of the hill. Why,
she knows every nook and corner,” replied Grand-
mother

“Tam going to ask her for it,” said Barunka,
and was already running up the hill. Just then
Victorka seemed to awake from her reverie and
turned to flee; but when Barunka called: “ Please,
Victorka, give me that flower!” she stopped, and
with her eyes turned away gave the child the
primrose. The she turned abruptly and flew down
the hill. Barunka came down to Grandmother.

“It is along time since she came to get some
food,” said Grandmother.

“O,no! Yesterday, when you were gone to
church, Mamma gave her a loaf of bread and some
Judases,” said Barunka.

“ Poor creature! The summer will soon be
here, and then she will be better off; but heaven
knows whether she has any feeling left. She
wears such thin garments the whole winter long,
and goes barefoot, and often she can be tracked by
the bloody marks which she leaves upon the snow.
How gladly would the gamekeeper’s wife give her
THE GRANDMOTHER. 231

something warm to eat every day; but she won’t
accept anything but bread, or some other cold
victuals. Unhappy girl!”

“ Grandma, I don’t think she is cold in that
cave; if she were she would go somewhere else.
Why, we have asked her many times to stay with
us.””

“The gamekeeper says that it is warm in such
underground places, and since Victorka never
enters a room warmed by a fire, she is not so sen-
sitive to cold as we. God orders things thus; he
sends guardian angels to protect children from evil,
and Victorka is a poor child, too,” said Grand-
mother, entering the house.

Usually the bell from the village chapel called
the family to prayers and to dinner; but this time,
John and Willie ran into the orchard with clappers
and clapped till the sparrows were frightened out
of their nests. In the afternoon, Grandmother and
the children went to the village to see the Lord’s
tomb, and on their way they stopped for Man-
chinka and her mother. The miller’s wife took
Grandmother into the store-room to show her the
great basket of colored eggs which she had pre-
pared for the Easter singers. There was also a
long row of coffee-cakes covered with various kinds
of sauce, and a fat lamb ready to be roasted. She
gave each of the children a little roll, but none to
Grandmother; for she knew that from Maundy-
Thursday, she never took a mouthful till the
evening before the Resurrection Day. She her-
self fasted on Good Friday, but not so strictly
as Grandmother. The latter said: “Every one
must act according to his own conscience. As for
232 THE GRANDMOTHER.

myself, it seems to me if I’m going to fast, I must
fast during all of these days. She examined and
praised all the baking, and added: “ We are going
to bake to-morrow, everything is prepared; but to-
day is devoted to prayer!” This was the custom
at Proshek’s, for there Grandmother’s word was
law.

The Saturday before Easter, from the earliest
dawn till the close of the day, The Old Bleachery
reminded one of the bridge at Prague; in the sitting
room, in the kitchen, in the yard, at the oven,
everywhere busy hands were constantly meeting
each other, and each one of the women to whom
the children turned with their difficulties declared
she didn’t know where her head was. Even
Barunka had so much to do that she forgot one
thing in the effort to remember another. But by
evening the house was in apple-pie order, and
Grandmother, with Barunka and the mother, went
to the service of the Resurrection. When they
entered the brilliantly lighted church filled with
devout people, a full chorus burst forth with the
hymn beginning:

“This day our Savior arose! Hallelujah!”
Barunka was carried away by a powerful feeling,
her breast heaved, and she felt impelled to rush out
into the open air that she might give free vent to
the inexpressible emotions that filled her soul. The
whole evening she was filled with a quiet joy, and
when Grandmother came to bid her “ good night,”
she put her arms around her neck and burst into
tears.

“ What is the matter, my child?” asked Grand-
mother.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 233

“ Nothing is the matter, Grandma, only I am so
very happy,” replied Barunka. Grandmother bent
down, kissed her grandchild on the forehead, but
said not a word,— she understood her Barunka.

On Easter Sunday, Grandmother took a cake,
some eggs, and some wine to church to be blessed.
When she returned, she cut up the cake and gave
each one a piece, and also a little wine. The
poultry and cattle also got their extra portion of
food as on Christmas, so that they would become
attached to their home and return good profits.

Easter Monday was a bad day for the women,
for then the waits came to sing and to switch them.
Hardly were they awake at Proshek’s, when they
heard a voice behind the door singing: “ A little
wait am I,” and somebody knocked at the door.
Betsey opened it very carefully, fearing it might be
one of the boys come to give her a switching; but
it was the miller, the earliest of them all. Hecame
as meek as a saint, and wished them a merry and
happy Easter; but all at once he pulled out a switch
from beneath his coat and began to apply it vigor-
ously. He spared no one, and even Mrs. Proshek
and Adelka and Grandmother were struck several
times across their petticoats “‘so the fleas shouldn’t
bite” as he said. He was treated the same as any
other wait, he got his Easter egg and an apple.
« Well, boys, have you done your duty this morn-
ing?” he asked.

“ They are nice fellows! other days one can
hardly get them out of bed; but to-day I was hardly
in the sitting room when they began to switch me,”
complained Barunka, and both the miller and the
boys laughed at her.
234 THE GRANDMOTHER.

The gamekeeper, too, and Milo and Tomesh
came down to switch the women; in short the girls
had no rest the whole day, and as soon as they
caught a glimpse of some new comer, they covered
their bare shoulders with their aprons.
CHAPTER XII.

PRING was coming on apace. The people
were working in the fields; upon the hillsides
lizards and snakes basked in the sun, so that the
children, going out to gather violets and lilies of the
valley were often frightened by them; but Grand-
mother told them they had nothing to fear, for
before St. George’s such creatures were not poison-
ous, and could be handled with impunity ; but when
the sun was high, then they had poison in them.
In the meadow behind the dam were seen blossom-
ing the ox-eye daisies and larkspurs, on the hillside
liver wort and the golden primroses. The children
gathered young leaves for soup and brought nettles
for the goslings; and whenever Grandmother
entered the stable she promised Spotty that she
should soon be taken out to pasture. The trees
quickly put on their green leaves, the mosquitoes
sang merrily in the air, the lark winged his way
high up into the clouds, so that although the chil-
dren often heard the little singer they never could
see him; they also listened to the cuckoo and called
into the woods: ‘Cuckoo, cuckoo, tell us how
many years we shall live?” Sometimes she would
coo, but sometimes she refused, and Adelka
scolded, saying that it was just out of spite. The
boys taught Adelka to make willow whistles; when
her whistles wouldn’t sound they told her it was
because while knocking the bark to loosen it she

235
236 THE GRANDMOTHER.

had not said the words right. “You girls can’t
even make a whistle,” laughed John.

“ That isn’t our business; but you can’t make a
hat like this,” said Barunka, showing her brother a
hat made of elder leaves and trimmed with daisies.

“Hm, that’s nothing!” said John, with a toss of
his head.

“ Nothing for me, but a good deal for you,”
laughed Barunka, making a doll out of the pith of
elder to match the hat.

John placed the switch on his knee and said to
Adelka: “ Now, listen and watch how I’m going
to do it!” and striking the switch with the handle
of his knife, he recited:

“Hark! hark! hark!
And quickly loosen thy bark;
If thy bark thou wilt not free,
It shall be ill with thee.
Our prince will come full soon
And give thee a blow
Till thou shalt go
Right up to the silver moon?
Clip! clip! clip!
At first thou wast only a whip,
But with my little knife
-Tl give thee a new life;
A new life so sweet and good,
That at my word
Thou wilt sing like a bird,
Like a little bird of the wood.”

The bark was loosened, the whistle made, and
when John tried it, it gave out a pleasant sound;
but Willie said that it did not whistle nearly as well
as Wenzel’s old whistle that he used when he
watched the cattle. He got tired of making
whistles and made a wagon instead, to which he
THE GRANDMOTHER. 237

hitched himself, and started to race about the
meadow with the dogs after him.

Barunka, giving her sister the pith doll, said:
“ Here, you may have this, but you must learn to
make them yourself? Who will play with you
when we are gone to school? You will be here
alone.”

“Grandma will be here,” replied the child with
an expression that said that although it would not
be pleasant to be left alone, still if Grandma was
with her she would have everything.

Just then the miller came along and handing
Barunka a letter, said: “ Take it to your mother
and tell her one of my men was in town, and the
postmaster gave it to him.”

“It’s from papa!” exclaimed the children run-
ning into the house. Mrs. Proshek read the letter
with a face beaming with joy, and having finished it,
told the children that their father would come home
about the middle of May, and the Princess, too.

“ How many times shall we sleep?” asked
Adelka.

“ About forty times,” replied Barunka.

“O, my! that is so long yet!” said the little
girl, much disappointed.

“ Do you know what Vil do?” said Willie; «I
will make forty chalk marks upon the door, and
every morning when I get up I will rub one out.”

«“ That is a good idea, the time will pass away
more quickly,” said his mother.

The miller was going from the dam and stop-
ped at Proshek’s. His face was sober, the habitual
grin was gone, and he held his snuff box in his
hand, but did not turn it; instead of that he tapped
238 THE GRANDMOTHER.

the cover with his fingers. “ Do you know what's
the news, my friends?” he said as he entered the
room.

“ What has happened?” asked Mrs. Proshek
and Grandmother at the same time, seeing that the
miller was not in his usual mood.

«“ The mountain water is coming.”

“ God grant that it be neither sudden nor heavy
said Grandmother, much frightened.

“T am not a little alarmed,” said the miller.
“For several days we have had south winds; then
there have been heavy rains in the hilly regions, and
the farmers tell me that the streams are flooded and
the snow is rapidly thawing. The outlook is not
inviting. I shall hurry home now and put every-
thing out of the way of the evil visitor. I should
advise you to do the same; we cannot be too care-
ful. In the afternoon I will come to see how things
appear. Watch how the water rises,—and you,
little linnet, don’t you go near the water!” he
added, pinching Adelka on the cheek; then he
left the house.

Grandmother went to look at the dam. On each
side the banks were protected by oak piles, among
which brakes had grown. She saw that some of
the lower brakes were already beneath the water.
Pieces of wood, sod, and branches of trees were
carried away across the dam by the muddy current.
She returned to the house with an anxious face.
When the ice broke, it sometimes stopped at the
dam, and the current rushed into the sluice and
flooded the house. This was always a time of anxi-
ety to the miller, and his men were constantly on
the watch to arrest every threatening danger, by

'»
THE GRANDMOTHER, 239

separating the floes that were accumulating in heaps.
This, however, could not arrest the progress of the
mountain flood. Like a mad charger it came plung-
ing down the sides of the mountain, carrying with
it everything that lay in its path. The banks of
oak were torn asunder, houses were overthrown,
and all this happened so suddenly that the people
scarcely had time to think what to do. Grand-
mother, who had once experienced this, no sooner
entered the house than she advised the immediate
removal of the furniture to the garret, which was
done at once. :

In the meantime, the gamekeeper came over.
Going from the woods past the saw mill, he had
heard of the coming of high water and had noticed
the rise of the river. “Those children will only be
in your way, and when the worst comes, what will
you do with them? I will take them with me up:
above.” Mrs. Proshek gladly accepted his offer.
Everything was packed and put away, the poultry
was taken to the top of the hill, and Spotty to the
gamekeeper’s.

“You two go to the gamekeeper’s, so his wife
shall not have everything on her own hands,” said
Grandmother to her daughter and Betsey, when
everything was in order. “ Vorsa and I will remain
here. Should the water come into the house, we
will go up into the garret, and, God protecting us,
we hope it will not be so bad that the house will be
carried away; itis not so low here as at the mill;
they, poor souls, will have a harder time.”

For some time Mrs. Proshek would not consent
to her mother’s remaining there; but when she
‘could not persuade her to go, she finally went with-
240 THE GRANDMOTHER.

out her. “Don’t let the dogs get away,” she said,
as she was leaving.

“Never fear for them; they know where their
safety lies, they will not leave us.” And, truly,
Sultan and Tyrol were constantly at Grandmother’s
heels, and when she took the spindle and sat down
by the window, out of which she had a good view
of the river, the dogs lay down at her feet. Vorsa,
accustomed constantly to be doing something, began
to clean out the empty pens, not thinking that
in an hour, they would be filled with mud and water.

It grew dusk, the water rose higher and higher,
and reached almost to the edges of the sluice; the
meadow behind the dam was already under water,
and where the willows did not obstruct the view,
although the house lay low and the banks of the
river were high, Grandmother could see the dash-
ing of the waves. She laid aside her spindle,
clasped her hands, and began to pray. Vorsa en-
tered the room, and said as she brushed the dust
from the bench by the window: “The water roars
till one is filled with terror; all living creatures have
hid themselves as if they knew something was
going to happen; not a sparrow is to be seen.”

The sound of a horse’s hoofs is heard on the
main road leading from the dam, and a rider gal-
lops along at full speed; he stops at the house and
shouts: “ Save yourselves, people; the flood is upon
us!” Then he gallops on to the mill and from the
mill to the village.

“God be with us. Up above they are in peril;
they’ve sent a messenger,” said Grandmother, turn-
ing pale. Still she told Vorsa not to be afraid, and
went again tosee if all was safe, and to note how
THE GRANDMOTHER. 241

much the water had gained. She caught sight of
the miller. He had on a pair of high boots and
was examining the condition of the water; he
showed her that it was already overflowing the side
of the sluice.

Milo and Kuderna came to offer their assistance
and to stay with her; she sent Kuderna home, say-
ing: “ You have children, and if some misfortune
should befall them, I should always blame myself.
If any one is to stay, let it be Milo; at the inn he is
not needed; there they have nothing to fear, except
that the water may get into their stable.” Thus
they parted.

By midnight the house was surrounded with
water. On Zernov hill the people went about with
lanterns; the gamekeeper, too,,came near the house,
upon the hill, and thinking that Grandmother could
hardly be asleep called and whistled, till Milo replied
that they were all right, that Mrs. Proshek need
have no fears for her mother. Then the game-
keeper went away again. In the morning the
whole plain was one vast sheet of water. Down
stairs they had to walk on planks, and with great
difficulty Milo got to the top of the hill to the
poultry; the water rushed with such force as almost
to knock him over. At daybreak everybody came
down from the gamekeeper’s to see how it was at
The Old Bleachery. The children seeing the house,
in the middle of a lake, and Grandmother walking
about on planks, began to cry and lament at such a
rate that they could scarcely be quieted. The dogs
were looking out of the door of the garret, and
when John called them they barked and howled,

16
242 THE GRANDMOTHER.

and would have jumped down, had not Milo held
them back.

Kuderna came and related what damage the
water had done below. In Zlitz it had carried away
two houses, in one of which there was an old wo-
man, who, not heeding the warning of the messen-
ger, delayed till it was too late. Bridges and trees
were carried away, in short everything that lay in
the way of the flood. At the mill, they lived in
the upper rooms.

Christina came to Proshek’s to see if it was pos-
sible to bring them something warm to eat; but she
saw that it was not to be thought of, and when
Milo boldly started to cross over, she herself begged
him to remain where he was.

The danger lasted two days; the third day the
water began to subside. How the children won-
dered when they returned to the house. The
garden was flooded, the orchard was covered with
debris, deep gullies were washed out in many
places, and the willows and alders were half buried
in mud. The foot bridge was carried away, deep
caves were worn out under the pens, and the dogs’
kennels were nowhere to be seen. Adelkaand the
boys went to look behind the house. They had
some trees there which they had brought from the
‘woods, and which Grandmother had planted for
them,—birches for the girls, and firs for the boys.
‘They stood there unharmed. Under the pear tree
they had made a little cottage, and around it a
garden with a fence and a small ditch, in which
were mills that turned when a rain had filled it
with water. There was also an oven there in
which Adelka baked her mud buns and _ kolaches.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 243

Not a trace was left of this little establishment.
“You simpletons,” said Grandmother, laughing
when she heard the children bemoaning their loss,
“how could you expect your plaything would stand
before the force of those angry waters that in their
course overturn houses and root up trees centuries
old!”

Before many days passed the sun dried the
fields, meadows, and roads, the wind carried away
much of the debris, the grass grew more lush, the
damages were repaired, and hardly a trace remained
of the destructive flood; but the people spoke of it
for along time. The swallows returned, and the
children welcomed them gladly; they hoped that
Mr. Beyer, too, would soon come, and after him
their father.

It was the evening of Philip and James’ day.
Grandmother took chalk that had been blessed upon
Three Kings’ day,* and made three crosses upon
every door, not only of the house, but of the stables,
pens, and chicken coops, as a protection against
witches. This being done, she went with the
children to the hill near the castle, the boys car-
rying an old broom upon their shoulders. Christina
and Jacob Milo were already there, as well as the
young people from the manor and from the mill.
Wenzel Kuderna, with his brothers, was helping
Jacob to cover the brooms with pitch, and the
others were arranging the wood for the bonfires.

The night was beautiful. A gentle breeze
swept the young grain into small billows, and car-
ried the fragrance of the flowers and blooming

*Festival of the three wise men that came to Bethlehem at the
birth of Christ.
244 THE GRANDMOTHER.

fruit trees over the whole hill. The hooting of the
owl was heard from the forest, a blackbird chirped
from a tall poplar by the roadside, and the nightin-
gale’s sweet song resounded from the park.
Suddenly a flame was seen to shoot up from Zlitz
hill; in an instant more one appeared on Zernov
hill, and along the hillsides lights were seen moving
in all directions. Further off, upon the hills of
Nachod and Newtown, were seen bonfires and
dancing lights. Then Milo set fire to the pitched
broom and threw it upon the heap of leaves and
faggots, and presently the whole wasin flames. The
young people shouted, and each seized his pitched
broom, lighted it, and hurling it high into the air cried:
“Fly, witch, fly!” Then they fell into line, and
began to dance wildly about, holding the burning
torches; but the girls made a ring and, singing,
danced round the burning faggots. When the heap
fell down, they scattered the pieces and jumped
over them, each trying to outjump all the others.

“« See,” said Milo, “this old witch must fly the
farthest,” and seizing a broom,* he threw it up
with such force that it whizzed through the air and
flew almost to the green field where the lookers-on
were standing.

“How she spits!” laughed the boys, running
for the crackling broom, while the others ap-
plauded. From the other hills also were heard
singing and laughter. Around the red flames
people moved hither and thither, their dark forms
producing a fantastic effect; from time to time a
witch flew up out of their midst into the air, shook

*The brooms commonly used are made of birch twigs, hence are
heavy and well adapted to the use described.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 245

her fiery mallet till it rained a thousand sparks, and
then fell down again amid the shouts of the people.
“Look! how high she flies!” said Manchinka,
pointing toward Zernov hill. One of the women,
however, pulled down her hand, saying that she
must never point at a witch, lest one of the fiery
darts pierce through her finger.

It-was late when Grandmother returned home
with the children. “Grandma, don’t you hear
something?” whispered Barunka, stopping in the
middle of the blooming orchard, “ it seems to me I
hear something rustling.”

“It’s nothing but the breeze playing with the
leaves,” replied Grandmother, and then added:
«‘ That breeze does much good.”

“ Why, Grandma?”

*« Because it bends the treestogether. They say
that when blossoming trees embrace and kiss each
other, there will be an abundant harvest.”

“O, Grandma, what a pity that now, when
there will be cherries and strawberries, and every-
thing will be gay, we must be shut up in the school-
house all day,” said John sorrowfully.

“ That cannot be otherwise, my boy; you cannot
always remain at home and play. Now you are
beginning to have new tasks and new pleasures.”

“Oh, I shall be glad to go to school,” said
Barunka, “only I shall be so lonesome not to see
you all day, Grandma!”

“TI shall miss you, too, my children, but it must
be so; the tree blossoms, the child grows; the fruit
ripens and falls, the child grows up and leaves. It
is God’s will. While the tree is sound, it bears
fruit; when it dies they cut it down and cast it
246 THE GRANDMOTHER.

into the fire, and the ashes fertilize the soil out of
which new trees grow. Thus your Grandmother
will finish her tasks, and you will bear her away to
her eternal rest,” said she, almost in a whisper.

The nightingale began to sing in the garden
shrubbery; the children said he was their nightin-
gale, because he came every spring and built his
nest there. From the dam came the sad sound of
Victorka’s lullaby. The children wanted to remain
outdoors a little longer, but Grandmother said:
“Don’t you know school begins to-morrow, and
that you must get up early? Come to bed, lest
your mother be angry;” and she pushed them one
after another into the house.

In the morning at breakfast, Mrs. Proshek gave
all the children except Adelka, who was still asleep,
some excellent counsel. She told them how to
behave at school and on their way home, and how
to improve their time. She admonished them with
so much earnestness that they could scarcely refrain
from weeping.

Grandmother prepared their lunches. “ Here
you have each your share,” she said, laying three
great slices of bread upon the table. “ Here is a jack-
knife for each, the same that I put away for you.
Don’t you see, Johnny, that if I had not hidden it,
you would have lost it long ago, and now with
what would you have cut your bread?” And tak-
ing three red-handled knives out of her pocket, she
gave one to each of the children. Then she cut a
piece of bread out of the middle of each slice, filled
the hole with butter, covering it up with the bread
that she had cut out, and putting one slice into Ba-
runka’s wicker basket, she placed the other two in
THE GRANDMOTHER. 247

the boys’ leathern satchel. She also added some
dried fruit. Breakfast over, the children were
ready to start on their journey. “Goin the name
of the Lord, and don’t forget what I have told you,”
said the mother, standing in the door.

They kissed their mother’s hand, while their
eyes filled with tears. Grandmother did not bid
them good-bye yet; she went with them across the
orchard, and Sultan and Tyrol followed. “Now,
boys, you must mind Barunka; you know she is
older than you,” said Grandmother, on the way.
“ Don’t play any of your foolhardy tricks, lest you
hurt yourselves! Improve your time well in school;
if you do not you will regret it when you are older.
Greet respectfully every one you meet and keep out
of the way of teams. You, Willie, don’t try to
pet every dog you meet; some are cross, and you
might get bitten. Don’t go into the water, and
when you are warm, do not drink. And Johnny,
don’t you eat your lunch before dinner time, and
then gape at the others. Now, good-bye. Adelka
and I will come to meet you about four o’clock.”

« And Grandma, don’t forget to leave us some
dinner,—a part of everything you have,” begged
John.

“You foolish boy, how should we forget!” said
Grandmother. Then she blessed each one with the
sign of the cross, and they turned to go, when she
thought of something else. “Should a storm come
up —I don’t believe it will—then don’t be afraid;
go your way quietly and pray, but don’t stop under
a tree, for lightning is very apt to strike into a tree.
Do you understand?”

«“ Yes ma’am, Papa told us so once, too.”
248 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ Now good-bye, give the schoolmaster our best
regards!”

Grandmother turned around quickly, so the
children should not see the tears in her eyes. The
dogs sprang about, thinking that they were going
out walking with the children, but John-drove them
back. At Grandmother’s call they followed her,
but turned back several times with wistful looks,
thinking that perhaps some one would call them.
Grandmother, too, looked back several times, and
only when she saw the children turn to the bridge
where Manchinka was waiting for them, did she
turn and go- home without stopping. The whole
day she seemed somewhat absent-minded; she went
about the house as if she were looking for some-
body. Hardly had the cuckoo in the clock sung
four o'clock, when she put the spindle under her
arm and said to Adelka: “« Come, my dear, let us go
to meet our little scholars; we can wait for them at
the mill. Sothey went.

By the statue under the lindens sat the miller,
his wife, and several farmers who had brought in
grist. ‘“ You are coming to meet the children, are
you not?” called the miller’s wife from afar; “we,
too, are looking for Manchinka. Come, take a seat
among us.”

As Grandmother sat down she asked: “ What’s
the news?”

« Just before you came, we spoke of the conscrip-
tion; it takes place this week,” replied one of the
farmers.

“May heaven comfort our young men,” said
Grandmother.

“They will need to be comforted. I fear there
THE GRANDMOTHER. 249

will be great lamentations, and Milo’s heart is
beginning to fail him,” said the miller’s wife.

“That is the way it generally goes when a per-
son is well favored,” said the miller, half closing his
eyes as he spoke. “If that were not the case with
Milo, he never would be taken into the army; but
that deuced jealousy of Lucie and the spite of the
steward’s daughter have settled it for him.”

“ Will not his father help him?” asked Grand-
mother. ‘“ Milo had hoped so, when last Christmas
the steward refused to give him work at the manor.”

“We heard,” began one of the farmers, “ that
Old Milo would gladly devote one or two hundred
guilders to that purpose.”

“ Two hundred! my dear sir, that isn’t enough,”
said the miller; “their farm is not large, and there
are several more children. The only way I see out
of the difficulty is for him to marry Lucie, but
there’s no disputing of tastes. I know that if he
still has the choice, he will prefer to be a soldier
rather than marry the daughter of our squire.”

“ Well, one evil is as great as the other,” said
one of the farmers with a shake of his head. “ Who-
ever gets Lucie need never say: ‘Lord, chastise
me!’ he will be chastised enough.”

“TI am very sorry for Christina,” said Grand-
mother; “how that girl will take on!”

“ Never mind the girl,” said the miller with half
closed eyes; “she will weep a while and groan and
sigh, and that’s all; but poor Milo, he will suffer
worse.”

«“ There is no doubt of it. He who doesn’t like
to be a soldier, finds it very hard; but he must get
accustomed to it as to everything else. I know by
250 THE GRANDMOTHER.

experience how that is. My husband,—-may God
grant his soul eternal rest,-was obliged to get
accustomed to worse than this, and I with him; but
with us it was not as with Jacob and Christina.
George got permission to marry and we lived to-
gether contented. In this case it may not be, and
it is no wonder that he doesn’t want to go, when
we remember that they would be obliged to wait
for each other for fourteen long years! But per-
haps he will escape after all.” At this moment her
whole face brightened up, for she espied the chil-
dren coming; they in turn, seeing her, star ted on the
run to meet her.

“Well, Manchinka, are you not hungry?” asked
the miller, when his daughter greeted him.

“ Indeed, I am, Papa, and all of us are. Why,
we haven’t had any dinner to-day!”

“That large slice of bread, those dried apples
and buns, that was dew?” asked the father as he
turned round his snuff box.

“Oh, that was no dinner, that was only a lunch,”
laughed the girl.

“To walk such a distance and study besides
makes one hungry, does it not?” asked Grand-
mother, and putting the spindle under her arm, she
added: *‘ Come let us hurry home lest you die of
starvation!” They bade each other good-night.
Manchinka told Barunka she would wait for them
the next morning again, and hastened into the
house. Barunka took her grandmother’s hand.
“* Now tell me how you got along at school, what
you studied, and how you behaved?”

“ Just think, Grandma, I am bankaufser,” said
John, skipping before her.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 251

«© What in the world is that?” asked Grand-
mother.

“ You see, Grandma, he who sits at the end of
the bench watches those that sit near him, and
when they do not behave he puts down their
names,” explained Barunka.

“It seems to me that in our village they called
him a monitor, but the monitor was always one of
the best boys in the whole school, and this honor
was not conferred upon any one the first day he
came to school.”

«‘ Indeed, and didn’t Anton Kopriva twit us with
it on our way home and say that if we were not
Proshek’s_ children, the schoolmaster wouldn’t
make such a fuss over us,” complained Barunka.

“Don’t you believe that!” said Grandmother,
“the schoolmaster will make no exceptions with you;
when you deserve it he will punish you as quickly
as he would Anton; he showed you this favor to
make you like to go to school, and to have you be-
have well. What did you learn?”

“ Dictando,” replied Barunka and the boys
together.

“ What’s that? ”

“ The schoolmaster reads to us and we write it
down, and then we must translate it from German
into Bohemian and from Bohemian into Ger-
man.”

“ Do those children understand German” asked
Grandmother, who, like the Princess, wanted to
know the why and wherefore of everything.

«“ Well, Grandma, nobody knows any German
but us, because we studied it at home and Papa
speaks to us in German; but it makes no difference,
252 THE GRANDMOTHER.

if one does not understand it, if only the exercise is
correctly written,” explained Barunka.

“ But how can they do it, when they don’t even
know how to look in German?”

“Indeed, they are punished enough for not
doing it right; the schoolmaster puts their names
in the ‘black book,’ or they must stand on the
dunce-block, and sometimes he strikes their hands
with the ferrule. To-day, Anna, the daughter of the
squire, was obliged to stand on the floor; she never
knows the German dictando. At noon she told
me, while we sat outdoors, that she didn’t know
how to write the exercise. She was so afraid that
she did not eat her dinner. I wrote it out for her,
and she gave me two cheeses for it.”

“ You should not have taken them from her,”
said Grandmother.

“J did not want to take them, but she said she
had two more; she was delighted that I wrote the
exercise for her, and promised that she would bring
me something every day, if I would only help her
with the German. Why shouldn’t I do it?”

“ You can help her, but you must not do it all
yourself, for then she will not learn anything.”

“ What of it! she need not know that; we study
it only because the schoolmaster wants us to.”

“« Because the schoolmaster wants you to know
something; for the more one knows, the easier one
can get along in the world; and, after all, the Ger-
man language is very necessary; you see how hard
it is that I cannot speak with your father.”

“ But papa understands all you say, and you
understand him, though you do not speak German.
But in Zlitz, only Bohemian is spoken; therefore,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 253

Anna need not know any German. She said that
if she wanted to learn German she could go to
Germany. But the schoolmaster will have it his
own way. Indeed, Grandma, nobody likes to
learn the German dzctando, it is so hard; if it were
Bohemian; oh, my! it would be as easy as the
Lord’s prayer!”

“You don’t understand this yet, but you ought
to obey and learn all things willingly. How did
the boys behave?”

“ Quite well, until Johnny began to cut up with
the other boys when the schoolmaster left the
room. They even jumped over the benches, till I
told him a

“ You told me? indeed, I stopped because I heard
the schoolmaster coming!”

“Tm learning nice things about you! You
should watch others and you misbehave yourself;
how is that?” asked Grandmother.

“ O Grandma,” said Willie, who till then was
silent, but was busily engaged showing Adelka a
piece of sweet wood and a tiny book made of gilt
paper, which he got from some boy at school in
exchange for akreutzer. “ O Grandma, those boys
in school are so bad; why they jump over the
benches and fight, and the monitor acts as bad as
the rest.”

« For the Lord’s sake, what does the school-
master say to that?”

«“ That’s while he is out of the room. When he
is coming they jump back to their places, put their
hands on the desks, and all is quiet.”

“ The little wretches!” exclaimed Grand-
mother.

 
254 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ But the girls play with their dolls; indeed, I
saw them,” said John.

“ You seem to be blossoms from Satan’s own
garden; the schoolmaster must have the patience
of Job to stand it all.” The children related much
more about the school, and what they had seen and
heard on their way; it was their first journey from
home, and they felt as proud as if they had
returned from Paris. ‘ Where are your cheeses,
did you eat them?” asked Grandmother, fearing
that they might have indulged their appetites too
much,

“One we ate, the other I wanted to bring
home; but while I was writing at the blackboard,
Anton Kopriva smuggled it out of my hand bag.
He sits behind me. If I had said anything to him
he would have beaten me on my way home. He
is a fine fellow!”

Grandmother did not take the children’s part,
but in her soul she thought: “‘ We were not any bet-
ter.” They knew that she was a great deal more
lenient than their mother; she winked at many a
caper that the boys cut up, and did not object
when Barunka engaged in some boisterous game.
For this reason the children confided in her much
more than in their mother.
CHAPTER XIII.

NE Thursday, several days after the first of
May, there was no school and the children
were helping Grandmother to water the flowers
and grape vines, whose green leaves were already
decorating the walls; they also went to water their
trees. They had a great deal to do; for three whole
days Barunka had not examined her dolls, the boys
had not driven their horses, and the wagons, guns,
and balls had lain in the corner untouched; they
had not been to visit the dove-cot, and Adelka had
fed the rabbits. All this neglect was to be atoned
for this Thursday.

Having watered the plants, the children were
allowed to go to their own occupations, while
Grandmother seated herself upon the turf bench
under the lilac bushes and began to spin, for she
was accustomed to be busy all the time. To-day
she was sad; she neither sang nor noticed the black
hen that came into the garden through the open
gate, and, when no one interfered, began to scratch
up one of the beds. The gray goose was feeding
close by, while her yellow goslings thrust their
heads through the holes in the fence, impertinently
looking into the garden. Grandmother liked them
very much, those pretty goslings; but now she did
not even notice them. Her thoughts wandered in
several directions. A letter had come from Vienna,
saying that the Princess would not come in the

255
256 , THE GRANDMOTHER.

middle of May, for Countess Hortense was very
ill. Should God be pleased to restore her to health,
perhaps the Princess would make a short visit to
the castle, but this. was quite uncertain. When
Mrs. Proshek read the letter she could not restrain
her tears, and the children, seeing their mother
weep, wept also. Willie had only a few more
marks to erase, and now all their bright hopes were
dashed to the ground. And that the dear, good
Hortense should die seemed dreadful to them. At
their prayers, they never forgot to offer a Pater-
noster for her restoration. The children, how-
ever, were soon comforted, but Mrs. Proshek, who
usually spoke little, now spoke still less; and
whenever Grandmother entered her room, she
saw that her daughter’s eyes were swollen from
weeping. She therefore sent her out to visit the
neighbors and so forget her sorrows. She was
always glad when Mrs. Proshek went, for she knew
that after all her daughter was very lonely in that
isolated little house, and would have preferred to
live in the busy city, to which for so many years
she had been accustomed. She had been very
happy in her marriage, but the one unpleasant thing
about her life was that her husband spent the
greater part of the year in Vienna, and she was
obliged to live in fear and anxiety without him.
And now she was not to see her husband, nor the
children their father for a whole year! “A life
for a life,” said Grandmother. Johanna, Grand-
mother’s second daughter was to come home with
John; she wanted to see her mother, to have a long
visit with her, and to get her advice, for she was
about to be married. Grandmother had looked
THE GRANDMOTHER. 257

forward to this with great anticipations, but now
she, too, was doomed to disappointment. Besides.
this, Milo’s fate worried her not a little. Milo was
a good-hearted, worthy young man, Christina was a
good girl, and Grandmother loved them both and
wanted to see them happy in each other’s love.
“When equal meets equal, there is concord, and
God himself rejoices over such a marriage,” she
used to say. But acruel blow seemed to await this
hope, for that morning Milo had gone with the
others to the conscription. All this lay upon
Grandmother’s mind and consequently she looked
very sober.

“ Grandma, just look, Blackie is scratching here!
Wait, you monkey, Vsh-sh-sh!” Grandmother,
hearing Barunka’s voice, raised her eyes and saw
the black hen flying out of the garden, and noticed
a large hole in one of the beds.

“ That vixen, how quietly shecame! Take the
rake, Barunka, and smooth the bed. And the
geese are here, too! The poultry are calling; it is
time for them to go to roost. I forgot myself. I
must feed them.” Saying this, she laid aside her
spindle and went to get the basket of grain.
Barunka remained in the garden smoothing the
bed.

Shortly after Christina came. “Are-you alone?”
she asked, looking into the garden.

“Come in, Grandma will be here presently; she
went to feed the poultry,” replied Barunka.

“ Where is your mother?”

“She went to town to visit Godmother; you
know she grieves so because Papa will probably not
come home this year, So Grandma sends her out

17
258 THE GRANDMOTHER.

visiting that she may be comforted a little. We all
looked forward with such joy to the return of
Papa and the Countess, and now we are all disap-
pointed. Poor Hortense!”

After these words Barunka, resting one knee in
the path, leaned her elbow against the other, and
laying her head in the palm of her hand remained
buried in deep thought. Christina sat down under
the lilacs, dropped her clasped hands in her lap, and
her head fell upon her bosom. Her eyes were red
and swollen, and she was the picture of misery.

«“ That fever must be a dreadful disease. If she
should die, oh heavens! You never had a fever,
Christina? ” asked Barunka after a pause.

“No, I never was ill in all my life; but now I
fear that I shall lose my health,” sorrowfully re-
plied: Christina.

Not till then did Barunka look at her, and seeing
her changed countenance, she jumped up, ran to her
and asked: “ What is the matter? Is Milo a con-
script?” Instead of replying, Christina began to
sob aloud. At this moment Grandmother came
back. “Have they returned?” she quickly
asked.

“ Not yet,” replied Christina, shaking her head;
“but all hope is vain. Lucie has sworn that if she
doesn’t get Milo, I shan’t get him either. What
she wants the squire will do, for he is very proud
of her; and the steward will do a great deal to
please the squire. The steward’s daughter cannot
forget that her lover was disgraced by Milo; she
too, adds some gall, and there are various other
things, dear Grandma, that undermine my hopes.”

“But Milo’s father was at the courthouse and,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 259

as I hear, had with him quite a sum of money;
there is some hope then?”

“ True, that is our only hope; since they listened
to him, they will perhaps help; but it has often
happened that they listened but did not help; if they
said it could not be done, one had to be satisfied.”

“T hope that it will not be so in Milo’s case; but
if it should be, then it seems to me his father ought
to take the money he intended to use as bribes, your
father should add to it, and then they could pay
Milo out according to law.”

“Yes, if there were not so many ifs, dear Grand-
ma. In the first place, the money his father has
already paid is gone; then my father has no more
ready money than he needs in his business; and if
he liked Jacob, and had no objections to my marry-
ing him, still he would prefer to have his son-in-
law bring something into the business rather than
carry something out. And granted that he would
do it, Milo is of a proud disposition; he will accept
no favors from any one; he would not allow my
father to pay him out.”

“I suppose he thinks: +A wife with a dowry
large, will be sure to govern the barge;’ and that is
something that every proud spirited man would
avoid. But, under the circumstances, it would not
be any disgrace for him to accept the favor. Yet,
why trouble ourselves for something that most
probably will not be needed, and if it should be,
would be quite difficult to do?”

“It’s a great pity that that affair ever happened
with the Italian; then I laughed at it, now I could
weep. If it had not happened, Milo would have
had a place on the castle farm, he could have worked
260 THE GRANDMOTHER.

there two years, and thus have been freed from the
army. It grieves me the more when I think that
it was all on my own account.”

“My dear girl, why should you blame yourself?
would this daisy at your feet be to blame if two,
wanting it, should quarrel over it? I, too, should
have to blame myself that I brought my husband
into a similar difficulty,—the case was almost like
yours. Dear child, do you suppose that when a
person is carried away by anger, jealousy, love, or
any other passion, he has the time to take counsel
with reason? At that moment he doesn’t care if he
should die! And besides the best and noblest
characters have their weak moments.”

“ Grandma, last year, on Mr. Proshek’s holiday,
you told me that your husband did something simi-
lar, and that he suffered for it, and now you’ve
referred to it again. I forgot all about it. Please
tell me about it now. Our time will pass away,
our thoughts will be turned to other matters, and it
is so pleasant to sit here under the lilacs.”

“Well, perhaps I will,” replied Grandmother.
“ Barunka, go see that the children do not go near
the water.”

Barunka obeyed, and when she was_ gone,
Grandmother began:

“Twas a grown up girl when, in 1777, Maria
Theresa began that war with the Prussians. They
had a misunderstanding about something, and the
Emperor Joseph came with an army to Jarmirn,
and the Prussians took their stand on the boundary.
The fields around us were full of soldiers, and the
villages, too. We had several privates and an offi-
cer quartered at our house. The officer was a man
THE GRANDMOTHER. , 261

of lax morals, one of those men that have no scru-
ples about entangling in their snares every girl they
meet. I disposed of him quickly, but he paid no
attention to my words,— shook them off as if they
were dew. Since he would not listen to me, I
arranged my work outdoors in such a manner that
I should never be obliged to meet him.

“You know how it is; a girl has occasion to be
out many times during the day, now in the field,
now to cut grass,* and often her folks are all gone,
and she must be in the house alone.

“Tn short, neither is it the custom nor is it neces-
sary that any one should guard a girl; she must
guard herself, and thus many opportunities can be
found by an ill-disposed person to persecute her.

“ But God protected me. I went to cut grass
early in the morning while everybody still slept. I
was always an early riser, for my mother used to
say: ‘ Who is up with the sun, his fortune is begun.’
She was right, and if I had had no other profit, the
pleasure was ample reward. When in the morning
I entered the orchard or went out into the fields
and saw the beautiful green grass covered with
dew, my heart was filled with joy. Each little
flower stood there like a maiden, with head erect
and bright, smiling eyes. The birds, dear little
creatures, hovered over me, praising God with their
songs; otherwise a holy stillness was around me.
Then when the sun rose behind the hills, it seemed
to me that I was in the house of God. Isang, and
my work seemed but play.

“Once, while I was thus cutting grass, — it

* Since there are but few pastures, the women must spend several
hours each day cutting grass for the cattle.
262 THE GRANDMOTHER.

was in the orchard,—I heard a voice behind me:
‘God bless your work, Madeline!’ I turned around
to reply: ‘God grant it!’ but I was so surprised
that I could not utter a word, and the sickle fell
from my hand.”

“Tt was that officer, was it not?” asked Chris-
tina, interrupting her.

“ Not so fast, my dear,” continued Grandmother;
“it was not that officer, for then I should not have
dropped the sickle. It was a joyous surprise.
George stood before me! I must tell you that I
had not seen him for three years. You remember
that George was the son of our neighbor, the wid-
ow Novotny, the one who was with me when I
spoke with the Emperor Joseph.”

“Yes, I remember; you also told me that he
became a weaver instead of a priest.”

“Yes, his uncle was to blame for that. Learn-
ing was as easy to him as play; his father heard
nothing but good reports of him whenever he came
home for the vacations. He was so fine a reader,
that when he was at home he would take father’s
place in reading the Bible to the neighbors every
Sunday. We all liked to listen to him, and his
mother used to say: ‘I seem already to hear him
preach.” We treated him as if he were already
ordained, and whatever delicacy any of us had we
sent it to him; and when his mother objected, say-
ing: “ Dear Lord, what can I give you in return?’
we replied: * When George is a priest he will give
us a blessing.’

“ We grew up together. What pleased one
pleased the other; but when he came home for
the second and the third vacation I began to feel
THE GRANDMOTHER. 263

somewhat shy; and when he followed me into the
orchard as he often did, and in spite of all I could
do carried my grass for me, I thought it was
wrong for me to allow him todo it. I told him
such a thing was not becoming for a priest to do;
but he only laughed, saying that much water would
yet flow away before he would preach. It-often
happens that man proposes, but God disposes.

“Once when he was at home for the third vaca-
tion, a message came from his Uncle George, at
Kladrau, requesting that he should come to visit
them. This uncle was a skillful weaver, who made
beautiful goods by which he had gained quite a
sum of money, and not having any children of his
own, he thought of his nephew George. Mrs.
Novotny did not want to send him, but father him-
self urged her to let him go, saying that it would
be for his good, and that his father’s brother, after
all, had some claim to him. He went; Mrs.
Novotny and my father accompanied him, going on
a pilgrimage to Vamberitz.

“ They returned, but George remained with his
uncle. We all missed him, especially his mother
and I, only she spoke of it often, while I kept it all
to myself. His uncle promised that he would care
for him as if he were hisownson. Mrs. Novotny,
therefore, thought that he attended school at Klad-
rau};she was full of hope that he would soon receive
his first ordination, when behold! George :came
home in a year a weaver by trade! His mother
grieved dreadfully, but what was to be done? He
begged her not to take it so hard, and confessed
that although he should have been glad to continue
his studies, he had no desire to become a priest.
264 THE GRANDMOTHER.

He said that his uncle persuaded him to give it up,
telling him that he would suffer much want, would
knock about from school to school, from official to
official, before he could earn a mouthful; that a
trade, on the contrary, had a golden bottom, and
that it was so much the better for him, if he was
likewise educated. In short, George listened to
his uncle and learned the weaver’s trade; and be-
cause he always did everything with a good will,
he prospered in this also.

“In a year he finished his apprenticeship, and
his uncle sent him to travel, to gain more experience
by working with different masters. His first jour-
ney was to Berlin, and on his way there he stopped
with us in Bohemia, and on that occasion brought
me this rosary.”

So saying, Grandmother pulled from her bosom
a bladder-nut rosary. She looked at it for a mo-
ment, kissed it, hid it in her bosom, and continued:

““ My father did not blame George for learning
the trade; he told Mrs. Novotny not to mind it,
saying: ‘ Who knows to what good this may lead?
Let him alone; as he has sowed, so shall he reap..
Though he should weave tow, if he understands
his business and remains a good and honest man,
he will be as worthy of honor asany lord.” George
was glad that his god-father was not offended with
him, for he thought as much of him as if he were
his own father. Finally, his mother became recon-
ciled,— how could she help it when he was her
only child, whom she dearly loved? She could not
desire that he should feel unhappy in his occupation.
He remained with us a few days, and then went
out into the world, and for three years we did
THE GRANDMOTHER. 265

not see him, and hardly heard from him until
that morning when he suddenly appeared before
me.

“ You can imagine how glad I was. I recog-
nized him instantly, although he had changed
much; he was unusually tall, and withal so well
proportioned that it would have been hard to find
his equal. He bent down to me, took my hand,
and asked me why I was so frightened? ‘How
could I help it,’ I said. ‘You appeared as suddenly
as if you had fallen from the skies. Whence came
you and when?’

“¢T came direct from Kladrau. Uncle is afraid,
since they are collecting troops everywhere, that I
also might be impressed into service. I ‘had
hardly reached home, when he sent me here, where
he thinks I can hide more easily. I got through
the mountains without any mishaps, and here I am.’

“¢ For heaven’s sake! suppose they should find
you here, what does your mother say?’

«“<T have not seen her yet. I got here at two
o’clock this morning, and did not want to wake
mother up. I thought to myself: “You can lie
down on the grass under Madeline’s window; she
is an early riser. You will wait till she comes, and
then youcan go home.” In truth, it is not in vain
that the people of the village say of you: “ Ere the
lark sings Madeline brings home the grass.” The
day had hardly dawned before you were cutting the
grass. I saw you at the spring washing yourself
and combing your hair, and I could hardly restrain
myself from coming to you; but when you were
praying, I did not want to interrupt you. But, now
Madeline, tell me, do you still love me?’
266 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“Thus he spoke; what else could I say than
that I did, for I had loved him from childhood, and
never had thought of any body else. We talked a
while longer, then he went to see his mother and I
went into the house to tell father that he had come.
Father was a prudent man, and he was not at all
pleased that George had come at this dangerous
time.

«¢] don’t know whether he’ll escape the white
coat * here,’ he said, ‘but we will do what we can
to hide him; do not tell a single soul that he is here!”

« His mother, although very glad to see him,
was greatly alarmed; for he had been enrolled
among the conscripts, and had escaped thus far,
because no one knew where he was. For three
days he was hidden in the garret upon the hay.
Through the day, only his mother was with him;
but in the evening I came, too, and then we had
long, pleasant talks together.

“JT was so afraid lest he should be discovered,
that I went about like a lost sheep and forgot to
keep out of the way of that officer, so that we met
several times. He, probably thinking that I wanted
to make up with him, began to sing his old tune;
I let him talk, but was not so sharp to him as
before, for I feared for George. As I said, George
was hidden; besides my family and his mother, no
one knew that he was in the house.

“ The third evening I remained a little longer
than usual with him, and when I went home every
thing was quiet and it was dark, when all at once
that officer stood in my path. He had discovered
that I went to Mrs. Novotny’s every evening, and

* Conscription.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 267

had waited for me inthe orchard. What was to be
done? Had I called, George would have heard me,
but I was afraid to have him come down. I depend-
ed upon my own strength, and when the officer
would not listen to my words, I prepared to use my
fists. Do not smile my child,do not look at me,
as I am now; I was not tall but thick set, my hands,
accustomed to hard work, were solid and strong. I
could have withstood him, but in his rage he began
to curse and swear. In that way he was discovered
and all at once, like a clap of thunder, George was
between us, holding the officer by the throat. He
had heard the cursing, and looking down through
the garret door recognized me and jumped down.
It was a wonder that he did not break his neck.
Did he stop to consider? No indeed; he would
have jumped down had the faggots of a funeral
pile been burning below him.

«¢ What mean you, sir, by attacking an honest
girl here in the night?’ he cried.

“JT tried to calm his anger, and begged him to
remember his situation; but he, trembling with rage,
held the officer as in a vise. Finally, I succeeded in
persuading him to let him go.

«“¢In another place and time we should settle
this matter differently, but listen to me and remem-
ber what I say. This girl is my bride; if in the
future you do not let her alone, you shall hear of
me again. Now go!’

“ With that he threw him over the gate as if he
were a ball. Then he turned to me, and putting
his arms around my neck, said: ‘ Madeline, dear,
remember me, greet my mother for me, and now
farewell, for I must. away this moment, or else I
268 THE GRANDMOTHER.

shall be taken. Do not fear for me, I know every
path and I shall get to Kladrau, where I can hide.
I beg you, come on a pilgrimage to Vamberitz; there
we shall meet!’

“Before I could collect my thoughts, he was
gone. I hastened to his mother to tell her what
had happened, then we both went to my father’s
house. And now it seemed as if we had lost our
senses. Every noise frightened us. That officer
sent out his soldiers on all the roads; he did not
know George, but he thought he was from some
village near by and that they would capture him;
but he escaped out of their hands. I avoided the
officer as much as I could, but when he could not
revenge himself in any other way, he slandered me
in the village as if I had been a girl of loose mor-
als. Everybody knew me, so he was not success-
ful in that. Fortunately, orders came that the
soldiers should depart, as the Prussians had crossed
the frontier. Nothing at all came from this war.
The farmers called it the ‘kolach war,’ because
after the soldiers had eaten all the kolaches in the
villages, they returned home.”

“ And what became of George?” asked Chris-
tina, who had been listening with breathless atten-
tion.

“ We heard nothing of him till spring, for in
those stormy times there was little travel.

“ We were full of anxiety. The spring came,
still no news. I prepared to go on the pilgrimage
as I had promised George. Several of the villagers
were going, I joined their party, and as the leader
had been at Kladrau several times, he promised my
father that he would take me there.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 269

“When we reached the town the leader said;
‘we will stop awhile at Mrs. Lidushka’s to rest.’
Every one who came from Bohemia stayed with
Mrs. Lidushka, for she was ourcountrywoman. In
those days Kladrau was almost entirely Bohemian,
but one prefers to go to some one that he has known
before. Mrs. Lidushka welcomed us very cordially,
took us into her private parlor, and after telling us
to make ourselves at home went out to get us some
wine soup.

“ My heart was full of the conflicting emotions
of joy and of fear; joy that I should meet George,
and fear less something had happened to him. Sud-
denly I heard a familiar voice greet Mrs. Lidushka,
and then she said: ‘Come in, George, there are
some pilgrims here from Bohemia.’

“The door opened, and there stood George, but
glancing at him I stood dumbfounded. He had on
a soldier’s uniform? All grew dark before my eyes!
He gave me his hand and then taking me into his
arms, said in a broken voice: ‘Wretched man that
Iam! hardly had I learned my trade, shaken off
one yoke, when I put on another. I ran away from
the rain and got under the eaves. Had I remained
in Bohemia, I should at least, have served under
my own Emperor, while now I must serve a for-
eign ruler.’

«“¢ For heaven’s sake, George, what have you
done?’ I asked.

«“¢ Done? my dear girl, I have acted like a fool!
refused to listen to my uncle; when I came here, I
was lonesome, restless, could find no peace any-
where. One Sunday I went with several comrades
into a saloon, against the earnest advice of my
270 THE GRANDMOTHER.

uncle. We drank till we became intoxicated, and
then the officers seeking for volunteers came in.’

“¢ Those villains!’ interrupted Mrs. Lidushka,
who just then entered the room with the soup.
‘Had George remained with me, this would never
have happened. I never put up with their deceit-
ful ways; his uncle never goes anywhere, forsooth,
except to Lidushka’s. Well, well, these young
people,—what can one do, when they have no
sense? But never mind, George, you are a hand-
some fellow. Our King likes tall soldiers; he will
not leave you long without shoulder straps.’

««¢ What’s done can’t be undone,’ began George.
¢ We did not know what we were about, and when
we became sober, Lehotsky, my dearest comrade,
and I were soldiers. I thought I should go mad.
Uncle, too, was sorry enough. Finally he began to
consider what could be done to lessen the evil I had
brought upon myself. He went to the commander
and was so far successful in his errand that I re-
mained here. I shall soon be a corporal, and—but
of that we will speak by-and-by. Now, do not
grieve my heart, for I am so glad to see you.’

“We comforted each other as well as we could.
Afterwards he took me to his uncle, who was very
glad tosee me. In the evening his friend Lehotsky
came over; he was a good man. He and George
remained faithful friends till death. Both have
gone to their reward, while I am still here,” said
Grandmother, and paused, overcome by the feelings
that these recollections awakened.

“You did not return home; Grandpa married
you then, did he not?” asked Barunka, who in the
THE GRANDMOTHER. 271

meantime had returned and was listening to Grand-
mother’s story.

“Yes, he would not have it otherwise. His
uncle had obtained permission for him to marry, and
they were waiting till I should come on the pilgrim-
age. After we had discussed everything, George
went away for the night, while I remained with
his uncle. He was a dear, good old man,—may
God grant his soul eternal rest! The next morning
George came over very early, and he and his uncle
engaged in an earnest conversation, after which
George came to me and said:

“«¢Madeline, tell me truly, upon your conscience,
do you love me so that you could endure hardships
for my sake, and forsake your father and mother?’

“¢ Yes,’ I replied.

“¢Then remain here and be my wife,’ he
said, and throwing his arms around my neck, kissed
me.

“© He had never kissed me before. This was not
the custom among us; but, poor fellow! he was
beside himself with joy and did not know what he
was doing.

“¢ But what will your mother say, what will my
parents say?’ I asked, while my heart beat fast
with joy and anxiety.

«“ ¢What should they say? Do they not love us?
would they want me to die of grief?’

«“« But for heaven’s sake, dear George, we must
have our parents’ blessing!’

“He did not reply, but his uncle stepped to us,
and sending him away said to me:

““¢ Madeline, I see you are a pious girl; I like
you, and know that George will be happy, and
272 THE GRANDMOTHER.

that he had good reason to lament when he thought
he had lost you. If it were somebody else I should
object, but George is headstrong. If it had not
been for me, he would have given way to despair;
but I succeeded in comforting him, because I
obtained permission for him to marry. I cannot
deceive you, he dare not return to Bohemia; and
should you go without him, who knows but that
they might try to dissuade you from this step.
After you are married, we will go together to Oles-
nic, and your parents will not refuse you their bless-
ing. We will'send a letter by the pilgrims. To-
morrow you will be married in the soldier’s chapel;
I shall take the place of your parents, and assume
the whole responsibility. Madeline, dear, look at
me; my head is white as snow; think you I could
do anything for which I could not answer before
God?’ Thus he spoke to me, while the tears
flowed down his cheeks.

“I consented to all. George could scarcely con-
tain himself for joy. I had no more clothing with
me than what I had on. George bought me a
new skirt, a jacket, and a garnet necklace for the
wedding; the rest was furnished by his uncle. The
garnets were the very same ones that I still wear;
the linsey-wolsey skirt was of a violet color and the
jacket sky-blue. The pilgrims returned home, and
uncle gave them a letter,in which he said that I
would remain there a few days and then return
with him. He wrote nothing more. ‘It will be
better to tell it than write it,’ he said.

“ The third day we had our wedding; the priest
of the regiment performed the ceremony.

“The only guests were Mrs. Lidushka, Mr,
THE GRANDMOTHER. 243

Lehotsky, who acted the part of groomsman, his
sister, who was my bridesmaid, and George’s uncle
and another citizen, who were witnesses. Mrs.
Lidushka was the wedding matron and made the
wedding dinner. We spent that day in joy and in
God’s fear, regretting only that those at home could
not be with us. At the table Mrs. Lidushka con-
stantly teased George, saying: ‘Look at that cross
soldier of ours! one hardly knows him to-day, but
it is no wonder; he has something to make his face
beam with joy!’ Thus they talked as people do on
such occasions.

“George wanted me to live with him at once,
but his uncle would by no means allow it; he said
this must not be till I had returned from Bohemia.

“In afew days we went home. I cannot de-
scribe to you the astonishment of all when they
heard that I was married, nor mother’s grief when
she heard that George was a soldier. She wrung
her hands, wept, said that I wanted to leave her to
follow a soldier in a strange land, and was so af-
fected that I myself became almost distracted with
grief. At length, father put an end to those lamenta-
tions. He said:

«“« This is enough, as she has made her bed, so
she shall lie in it. They love each other, let them
suffer together; you know, wife, that you, too, left
your father and mother for my sake, and that is the
lot awaiting every girl. Who of us can help this
misfortune that has befallen George? But the ser-
vice there is not long, and when that task is over
he can return home. Mother, cease your lamenta-
tions. George is a sensible young man. He will
not be homesick, he has himself provided against
274 THE GRANDMOTHER.

that. Madeline, my child, dry your tears. May
God bless. you and grant that he with whom you
have gone to the altar may also go with you to the
grave?’ With these words he gave me his bless-
ing, while the tears filled his eyes.

“ Mother also wept. Dear mother, always so
thoughtful of everything! she had her hands full.
‘What were you thinking of?’ she said; ‘ you have
n’t a single piece of bedding, no furniture, no cloth-
ing, amd yet you get married! Since the day I
was born, I have never heard of such thoughtless-
ness!’ I got a good outfit, and when I had every-
thing in readiness, I returned to George and remain-
ed with him till his death. If it had not been for
that unfortunate war, he might be here still. You
see, my dear girl, that I know what joy and sorrow,
youth and folly are,” said Grandmother with a
smile, laying her withered hand on Christina’s round
arm.
“You suffered enough, Grandma, but still you
were happy,—you got what your heart desired. If
I knew that after all my trials I, too, should be
happy, I would endure all in patience, even if I had
to wait for Milo fourteen years,” said Christina.

“The future is in God’s hands. What is to hap-
pen will happen, we cannot avoid it. The best
thing we can do is to place our trust in God.”

“T know that is best, but one cannot always
control one’s feelings, and if Jacob is taken, I shall
mourn. With him will depart all my happiness,
my protection, and my support.”

“What do you mean, Christina, have you not a
father!”

“T have a good father,—may God preserve him
THE GRANDMOTHER. 275

to me for many years; still he is old and unreasona-
ble. This summer he gave me no peace, because
he insisted that I should get married so that he
might have somebody to help him in the business.
What shall I do when Jacob is gone? But I will
not have anybody else, even if they all set them-
selves against me. I will work like a slave, and if
that is not enough to please father, why then, he
must remain displeased, for I shall not marry. O
my dearest Grandma, you have no idea what I must
put up with in that inn? It is not the hard work,
—that troubles me the least,—but it is what I must
listen to from those men.”

“Can’t you prevent it?”

“How can I? I often say to father: ‘Why do
you allow such things in your own house?’ But he
is afraid to say anything lest he should drive away
his customers. He often says: ‘My dear girl, have
patience. Don’t you know our living depends upon
them?’ He doesn’t want me to be rough, and
when I am amiable, every good-for-nothing thinks
he may take my name in his foul mouth. I shall
never be as happy and full of song as I used to be!
If it were those common fellows only, it would not
be so bad; but the steward and the secretary from
the castle are bitter pills; they poison my whole
existence. I am ashamed to tell you how that old
wretch, the steward, follows me. I know it as
well as if some one whispered it to me, that he will
leave nothing undone to put Milo out of his way;
for he knows that he is my protector. He acts
sometimes as though he wanted to please the squire,
then again as if he were seeking to revenge his
daughter; but the old fox thinks of no one but
246 THE GRANDMOTHER.

himself. Father fears him, and mother, poor soul!
seems scarcely to belong any longer to this world.
I cannot harass her with my troubles. If I were
married all would be changed. Even now, when
Milo is with us, if any one molests me, I have only
to tell him and he watches the fellow so that he
either leaves or no longer dares look at me. O
Grandma, if you only knew how we love each
other! but that cannot be expressed.” And Chris-
tina rested her face in her hands and remained bur-
ied in deep thought.

At that moment, quietly and unobserved, Milo
entered the garden. His handsome face was dis-
torted with grief, his bright eyes were dim, the
dark brown curls that were wont to hang about his
forehead were cut off; in place of his jaunty, high
otter-skin cap, he wore a soldier’s cap,in which was
stuck a twig of balsam. Barunka was frightened;
Grandmother’s hands fell into her lap, her face
turned pale, but she whispered: ‘God comfort
you, my boy!”

But when Christina raised her head, and Milo,
giving her his hand, said in a hollow voice: “I
am a soldier, in three days we depart for Konig-
gratz!” she fell senseless into his arms.
CHAPTER XIV.

HE next day when, as usual, Grandmother
went to meet the children, her first words
were, “ Guess who is at qur house?”

The children were surprised, and for the moment
could not think of any one until Barunka exclaimed:
“Oh, I know; Mr. Beyer!”

“Right,” replied Grandmother, “and his son is
with him.”

“Oh, I am so glad!” exclaimed John, “let us
run to see him;” and both he and Willie rushed to
the house as fast as their legs could carry them.

Grandmother called after them not to go like
wild beasts, but like human beings; but they were
already beyond hearing. All out of breath, they
bounded into the room; their mother was about to
reprove them, when Mr. Beyer stretched out his
long arms toward them, and raising one after the
other, embraced and kissed them. “ How have you
been all the year?” he asked in a deep voice that
re-echoed through the small space. The boys did not
reply immediately; their eyes fell upon a boy, about
Barunka’s age, who was standing beside Mr. Beyer.
He was a handsome lad, the image of his father,
though he had not as yet the latter’s muscular
strength; his face was ruddy, and childish happi-
ness beamed from his eyes. “ Aha! you are looking
at my boy; well, take a good look and shake hands,
so as to become good comrades. This is my Orel.”

277
248 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Thus saying he pushed his son forward, who with-
out any bashfulness stepped up and shook hands
with the boys. Just then Barunka came, together
with Grandmother and Adelka. “My boy, here
you see Barunka, who I told you is always the first
to bid me good morning when I stay here over
night. This year I see it is different; you attend
school, and so Johnny must rise as early as his sis-
ter. And how do you like it at school, Johnny,
would you not prefer to roam about in the woods?
You see, my Orel must go with me everywhere,
and soon he will know how to shoot as well as his
father,” continued Mr. Beyer.

“© O, do not tell such things,” said Grandmother;
“John will get wild and will want to see Orel’s
gun.” ‘

“Well, why should he not see it? Go, Orel,
show him your gun; it is not loaded.”

“No, for you remember I fired the last charge
at that buzzard,” replied the boy.

“Yes, and killed it, too. You can show it to the
boys.” The boys ran outdoors delighted, but
Grandmother was not satisfied; she followed them,
although Mr. Beyer assured her that Orel would be
careful.

“Why, you have a name like a bird,” said
Adelka to Orel,* while John and Willie were exam-
ining the buzzard.

“My name is really Aurel, but father prefers to
call me Orel, and I like it too,” replied the boy,
smiling at Adelka’s question. “The eagle is a fine
bird; father once shot an eagle.”

“ Very likely, but wait,” said John, “I will show

*"* Ore)’ in Bohemian means Eagle.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 279

you an eagle and many other animals; |] have pic-
tures of them in a book that I got as a present upon
my namesake’s day. Come with me.” With these
words he dragged Orel into the house, where he
showed him the pictures in his book.

Orel was much pleased with the pictures, and
even Mr. Beyer looked on with great interest.
« You did not have that last year,did you?” he asked.

“T got it as a present from the Countess on my
namesake’s day; besides that, I got a pair of doves
from Christina, rabbits from the gamekeeper, a sil-
ver dollar from Grandma, and a suit of clothes
from my parents!” said John proudly.

“You are a lucky boy,” said Mr. Beyer, who
was looking into the book; and seeing a fox, he
smiled and said: “Wait, you rascal, Ill make you
come to time yet!” Willie, thinking he meant
the one in the book, looked up with surprise; upon
which Mr. Beyer said: “Don’t you be afraid. I
don’t mean this fox in the book, but one in the
mountains that resembles this one and that must be
caught, because it does us much damage.”

“Perhaps Peter will catch it; I helped him set
the trap before we started,” said Orel.

“O my boy, a fox is ten times more cunning
than Peter; he is up to tricks that a man would
never think of, and especially if, like this one, he
has once been caught. The wretch! I set a nice
roast for him, thinking I should catch him; he was
hungry, but what did he do? Just bit off his broken
leg and escaped. Now he will hardly allow him-
self to be caught a second time. Man learns. wis-
dom by experience, and a fox seems to he as wise
as a man.”
280 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“People say very appropriately ‘as cunning
as a fox,’” said Grandmother.

“ This is the eagle!” cried the children, looking
at a beautiful bird with wings outstretched, just as if
he were about to light on his prey.

«Just like the one that I shot! It was a beauti-
ful bird and I was almost sorry to shoot it, but
what was to be done? one does not meet such an
opportunity every day. I hit it well,—that is the
principal thing,—so that the creature did not
suffer.”

“ That’s what I always say,” spoke up Grand-
mother.

“But are you not sorry for those poor animals,
Mr. Beyer. I could not shoot any of them,” said
Barunka.

“ But you could cut a creature’s head off,” smiled
Mr. Beyer; “and which is better: to kill it at once,
when it is not suspecting danger, or first to frighten
it while you are catching it, then to spend some
time in preparation, and finally to cut its neck,
sometimes so clumsily that it escapes still alive?”

“ We never kill the poultry,” protested Barunka;
“ Vorsa, who doesn’t pity them, does it, and then
they die instantly.” For a while longer, the chil-
dren amused themselves with the pictures, and then
Mrs. Proshek called them to supper.

Heretofore, when Mr. Beyer had come, he had
no rest from the children; they wanted to know
about the mountains, whether he had not wandered
into Ryberzol’s garden, and many other things.
This time, however, they questioned Orel, and list-
ened with great wonder when the boy told
them of the perils which he had shared with his
THE GRANDMOTHER. 281

father and of the game he had shot, when he de-
scribed to them the great masses of snow that lie on
the tops of the mountains, sometimes rolling down
their sides and burying whole villages, till the peo-
ple have no outlet but their chimneys, and each one
is obliged to make his own path from his house to
that of his neighbor.

All this did not discourage John; he still wished
to be old enough to go and live with Mr. Beyer.

«When you are with us, father will send me to
the Riesenburg gamekeeper, so that I may have
experience in easier gamekeeping,” said Orel.

« That will be too bad, if you are not there,”
said John, quite vexed.

*“ You will not be lonesome; we have two other
apprentices, and brother Chenek is as tall as you,
and Sister Mary will like you,” said Orel.

While the children, seated in the yard, were
listening to Orel and looking through the crystals
which he had brought them, Mr. Beyer was
listening to Grandmother, who told him of the
flood and all the other events that had happened
during the year.

“ Are the family of my brother at Riesenburg
well?” asked Mr. Beyer.

“ Quite well,” replied Mrs. Proshek. “ Anne is
growing fast; the boys attend school at Red Hura;
it is nearer for them than the town school. I am
surprised that the gamekeeper isn’t here yet; he
said he would drop in to welcome you when he
went to watch. He was here this morning and
brought me news from the castle, that a letter had
come from Vienna. I went to the castle and
learned that the Countess is better, and that most
282 THE GRANDMOTHER.

likely the Princess will come during the harvest
festival, to remain a fortnight, and then go to
Florence. I have hopes that my husband will re-
main with us during the winter; they say she will
not take the attendants with her. Thus after
waiting so long we shall be together again.”

For many days Mrs. Proshek had not spoken
so much; for many days she had not been so happy
as to-day, after she had heard the good news of
her husband’s home-coming.

« Thank God that the Countess is restored to
health. It would be a thousand pities to lose that
dear, good child,” said Grandmother. “ We re-
membered her in our prayers every day, and but
yesterday Celia Kuderna was here and wept for
her.”

“ She might well weep if the Countess should
die,” remarked Mrs. Proshek.

Mr. Beyer asked what they meant, and Grand-
mother told him about her visit to the castle, and
how the Countess had helped the organ grinder’s
family.

«“ T heard,” said Mr. Beyer, “ that the Countess
was the daughter of ——”

At this moment somebody tapped at the window.

“© That is the gamekeeper, I know his knock.
Come in,” called Mrs. Proshek.

“ People have evil tongues,” returned Grand-
mother, replying to Mr. Beyer’s remark. “He
who goes in the sun is followed by the shadow;
how could it be otherwise. What matters it whose
daughter she is.”

The Riesenburg gamekeeper entered the house
and was heartily welcomed by Mr. Beyer.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 283

“ What kept you solong?” asked Grandmother,
casting a timid glance at the rifle he was hang-
ing up.

“I had a precious guest, the steward; he wanted
some wood; he sold his deputat,* and now wants
wood in advance, and would inveigle one into
crooked dealings. He can’t come any such game
on me. My suspicions were at once aroused, for
he came like a saint. I told him what’s what. I
also gave him a thrust for Milo; I am sorry for
that boy and for Christina, too. I stopped at the
inn this morning for a glass, and she frightened me,
she looked so ghastly. That conf »” here the
gamekeeper struck his lips, recollecting that he sat
near Grandmother—“ steward has that to answer
for.”

“What has happened?” asked Mr. Beyer, and
Grandmother quickly informed him of Milo’s con-
scription and the causes that led to it.

“ That’s the way it goes in the world; wherever
one turns, nothing but misery and sorrow among
the great and small, and he who has none, will
make some for himself,” said Mr. Beyer.

«“ The soul is purified by misfortune and sorrow,
as gold by fire. Without sorrow there can be no
joy. IfI knew how I could help that girl,— but
it is impossible. She must bear it as well as she
can. The worst trial will be to-morrow when Milo
goes away.”

“ He goes, then, to-morrow?” questioned the
gamekeeper. “ They seem to be in a great hurry.
Where does he go?”

“ To Koniggratz.”

 

#*An allowance in kind in addition to the salary.
284 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“Then we have the same destination, only I
travel by water and he goes by land.”

Just then the boys ran into the room; John and
Willie showed the gamekeeper a buzzard that Orel
had shot, and the latter told his father that they had
been at the dam and had seen crazy Victorka.

“Js that poor creature still alive?” wondered
Mr. Beyer.

“ Yes, indeed, though it would be better if she
were under the ground,” replied Grandmother.
“ But she is failing fast; it is very seldom that we
hear her sing, except on bright moonlight nights.”

“ But she still sits by the dam and looks into the
water, often till after midnight,” replied the game-
keeper. Yesterday I went past her; she was
breaking off willow twigs and throwing them over
the dam into the water; it was late, I asked: “« What
are you doing here?” She made noreply. I re-
peated the question. She turned, looked at me, and
her eyes flashed. I thought she was going tospring
upon me; but she must have recognized me, for
she turned away and began again to cast twig after
twig into the water. One cannot do anything with
her. I feel sorry for her and should be glad to
know that her miserable life is ended, and yet if I
did not see her at the dam, and hear her song when I
watch in the night, I should miss her and feel lonely,”
said the gamekeeper holding the buzzard in his hand.

“« When a person becomes accustomed to a par-
ticular object it is hard to give it up,” replied Mr.
Beyer, putting a bit of glowing fungus into his
short, wired* clay pipe, and after taking several

*A common method of mending broken stoneware is by a lace work
of wire, after which it lasts longer than the unbroken article.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 285

deliberate puffs he continued: “be it man, beast, or
aught else. Thus, I have become accustomed to
this pipe while going on a journey; my mother
used to smoke from one just like it. It seems to
me I can see her sitting on the doorstep.”

“ What, did your mother smoke?” cried Ba-
runka, greatly surprised.

“In the mountains many women smoke, espe-
cially old grandmothers; but instead of tobacco they
use potato tops, and, when they can be obtained,
cherry leaves.”

“TI shouldn’t think that would be good,” said the
other gamekeeper, filling his pipe, a beautifully
painted porcelain one.

“Thus I have certain favorite places in the
woods,” again began Mr. Beyer, “where I stop
unconsciously. These have become dear to me,
because they remind me either of certain persons
or of pleasant or unpleasant events in my life. If
from those places a single tree or shrub were taken
away, I should miss it. In one place, upon a,pre-
cipitous height, stands an isolated fir. It is an old
tree; its branches on one side hang over a deep
precipice, in whose fissures, here and there, are
tufts of ferns or juniper shrubs; and down below,
astream hurries along over rocks, forming cata-
racts and waterfalls. I don’t know myself how it
happened, but whenever some grief oppressed my
mind, or some misfortune befell me, I always found
my way to that spot. Thus it was when I used to
go to see my wife, and imagined I should not get
her; her parents were unwilling, and it was not till
later that they gave their consent.

«“ It was the same when my oldest son died and
286 THE GRANDMOTHER.

when my mother died. Each time I started from
the house, went without any purpose, looking nei-
ther to the right nor to the left, and unconsciously
my feet carried me into that wild dale; and when I
found myself over the precipice by that gloomy fir
tree; when I saw before me the summits of the
mountains, one above the other, my burdens seemed
to fall from me, and I was not ashamed of my tears.
When I embraced its rough trunk, it seemed to me
that it had life, that it understood my sorrows, and
the rustling foliage seemed to sigh as if it wanted
to tell me of similar griefs.”

Mr. Beyer made a long pause, his large eyes
were turned to the light burning upon the table,
and instead of words little clouds of smoke passed
from his mouth and went up to the ceiling like
visible thoughts.

“Yes indeed, it often seems that those trees have
life and consciousness within them,” said the Ries-
enburg gamekeeper. “I know this from experience.
Once, — it happened several years ago, —I selected
some trees for felling. The forester could not go,
so I was obliged to see to it myself. The woodcut-
ters came and were preparing to fell a beautiful
birch; there wasn’t a flaw in her, she stood there
like a maid. I fixed my eyes upon her and it seemed
to me,—-it is laughable, but it was so,—as if she
were bending to my feet, as if her branches embraced
me, and something sounded in my ear: ‘Why do
you wish to destroy my young life? what have I
done to you?’ Just then the sharp teeth of the saw
creaked over her bark and entered her body. I
don’t remember whether I cried out, but I know
that I wanted to stop the men from cutting further;
THE GRANDMOTHER. 287

but when they looked at me with astonishment, I
was ashamed of myself, and left them to their
work and went away into the woods. I wandered
about for a whole hour, followed by the thought
that the birch begged me to spare her life. When
I composed my feelings and returned to the spot,
she was down; not a leaf stirred on her, she lay
there like a corpse. 1 was seized with remorse, as
if I had committed murder. For several days I
was almost ill, but I did not tell any one the cause,
and if we had not happened to speak of such things
to-day, I suppose I never should have mentioned
the incident.”

“Something similar happened to me,” began
Mr. Beyer in his deep voice. “I was to furnish
the game for my master. I went hunting. A fawn
came in my path,—-a handsome creature, with hair
as smooth and even as if it had been trimmed.
She looked about her gayly and here and there
cropped the grass. I was moved with compassion;
but I thought: ‘ How simple I am?’ I fired, but my
hand trembled, and I hit the fawn in the side; she
fell and could gono further. My dog rushed to
her, but I called him back, for something told me I
must not let him harm her. I went to her, and I
cannot tell you how that creature looked at me, —
so mournfully, and so imploringly! I pulled out my
knife, and thrust it into her heart; her limbs quiv-
ered and she was dead. But I burst into tears and
since that time, — well, why should I be ashamed
of it?”

“Father won’t shoot at a fawn,” quickly cried
Orel.

“ Quite true. Whenever I aim, I see before me
288 THE GRANDMOTHER,

the wounded fawn with her mournful eyes, and fear
lest I might miss my aim and only wound the
animal; so I don’t shoot at all.”

“You should shoot only the bad animals and leave
the good ones alive,” said Willie, his eyes filled
with tears.

“© There is no animal so good that it is not also
bad, nor any so bad that it is not sometimes good,
as is the case among people. It is a mistake to
suppose that the animal that has a pleasant, mild
face must therefore be good, and that the one with
arepulsive face is bad. The face is often a great
liar. It often happens that that which is repugnant
to a person and does not interest him is less pitied
than that which is agreeable and interesting, and
thus great injustice is often done.

“ Once I was at Koniggratz before the execu-
tion of two criminals. One was a handsome man,
the other hideous and disagreeable. The first had
murdered his friend because he believed that he
had seduced the girl he loved. The second one
was from our neighborhood; I went to him, after
he was condemned, to ask him if he had no word
to send home, and said that I would gladly deliver
any message. He looked at me, laughed wildly,
then shook his head and said: ‘I send a message, a
greeting! to whom? I know nobody.’

“He turned from me, buried his face in his
hands, and remained silent for some time; then he
sprang up, stood before me with his hands folded
over his breast, and asked: ‘ Will you do for me
what I ask?’ ‘Most willingly,’ I replied, giving
him my hand. At that moment such agony was
depicted in his countenance that I would have done
THE GRANDMOTHER. 289

anything in the world for him; his face lost its re-
pulsiveness and awoke only pity and sympathy.
He must have read my heart well, for he seized my
hand quickly, pressed it, and with atrembling voice
said: ‘If you could have given me your hand thus
three years ago, I should not be here. Why did
we not meet? Why did I only meet people who
trampled me into the dust, who ridiculed my face,
who fed me with wormwood and poison? My
mother never loved me, my brother drove me away,
my sister was ashamed of me, and she, who I
thought loved me, for whom I would have risked -
my life, for whose smile I would have brought down
the stars, for whom I regretted that I did not have
ten lives that I might offer them for her love, she
only mocked me, and when I wanted to hear from
her own lips what all others told me, she drove me
out of her door with her dog.’ Then this savage
man wept like a child.

« After a while he dried his tears, took my hand
and added quietly: ‘When you come to Marsov-
ward, go into that deep, wild glen. Above the
precipice stands an isolated fir; give it my greeting
and greet those wild birds that fly about its head,
and those high mountains. Under its branches I
slept many a night, to it I told what nobody knows.
Then I was not such a wretched being; I was——.’
He stopped, sat down on the bench again, and said
no more, nor did he look at me again.

“J left the prison full of pity for him; the peo-
ple condemned him, cursed him for a hideous
monster, said that he deserved death, that villainy
looked out of his eyes, that he would see no priest
nor anybody else, that he made faces at people and

19
290 THE GRANDMOTHER.

went to his execution as to a feast. The hand-
some man was pitied by all; they fought for the
song that he had composed in prison, and every one
wished that he might be pardoned, since he had
killed his friend through jealousy, but the other
one, they said, had shot a girl out of pure mali-
ciousness,— a girl who had never done him any
harm.

“ Thus each judges according to his own feel-
ings. ‘Soe many heads, so many opinions;’ to each
eye things appear different, and therefore it is hard
to say: ‘This is thus and cannot be otherwise.’
Only God knows the world. He looks into the
innermost depths of the human heart and judges it;
He understands the language of animals; before
Him is unfolded the chalice of every flower; He
knows the path of every worm; the rustling of the
wind is according to His commands; the streams
flow the way He has pointed out.”

Mr. Beyer again made a long pause; his pipe.
had gone out, his eye sparkled with animation, his
face resembled a mountain dale lighted up with
the soft light of the autumn sun, and upon whose
bosom there is still green shrubbery and flowers,
even though the top of the mountain is already
covered with snow.

All turned their eyes upon him, until Grand-
mother spoke out: “You are right, Mr. Beyer;
one loves to listen to you, it seems like a Scripture
lesson. But the little folks must go to bed; your
son must be tired after his journey, and you, too.
To-morrow we will finish our conversation.”

« That buzzard you can give to me for my owl,”
said the gamekeeper to Orel.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 291

“ Most willingly,” replied the boy.

“ May we take it to your house to-morrow morn-
ing early,” begged the boys.

« But you must go to school.”

“T told them they might have a holiday to-
morrow, so that they can enjoy your son’s visit,”
said the mother.

“ Why, then, I must let those blue jays of mine
stay at home, too. Now, come. Good night!
Farewell!”

“The dear brother of the lowlands,” as Mr.
Beyer sometimes called the Riesenburg game-
keeper, shook hands with his friends, called Hector
and departed. In the morning, before the children
were dressed, Orel was out on the river upon the
floating logs. After breakfast Mr. Beyer and
the boys went to the gamekeeper’s, while Grand-
mother, together with Barunka and Adelka, went
to the inn to bid. Milo good-bye. The inn was
already crowded; mothers and fathers came to see
their sons depart; friends, relatives and acquaint-
ances were there. Although one tried to encourage
another, although the innkeeper and his daughter
had so much to do that even Milo was called on to
assist at the bar, although the young folks joined in
many a gay song, it was all of no avail; not one
drank too much, as had been the case when they
went to the conscription. Then they trimmed
their caps with evergreens, shouted gayly, drank
and sang so as to smother their fear and anxiety.
Each one, even the straightest, the handsomest
young man, cherished still a little hope. Then
they were flattered by the sorrow of the girls, they
were pleased with the love of their parents, which
292 THE GRANDMOTHER.

on such occasions gushes out like a stream which
has been hidden in the bosom of the earth; they
were proud of the opinions expressed by their
friends: “ Oh, he’ll not return,— sucha man, grown
like a fir tree, as solid as if he were cast from metal,
—they delight in such soldiers!” Withsuch sweet
drops, vanity tried to lessen the bitterness of the
cup which necessity placed before them ; on the other
hand, that which comforted the strong, handsome
men only embittered the hearts of those who had
nothing to fear, who were conscious of their physi-
cal defects; many a vain fellow felt this burden so
grievous that he would have preferred to be a
soldier rather than hear remarks like the following:

“ Your mother need not weep for you; you will
not swear on a drum, you’ll do to put into a dog’s
garter,” or “ Why, boy! join the cavalry; your legs
are like the horns of an ox!” and other equally
cutting remarks.

Grandmother entered the inn, but she did not
venture into the bar-room, not because the air there
was close and oppressive, but because she was
startled by the heavy cloud of grief that had set-
tled upon every countenance. She knew how those
unhappy mothers felt. Here, one wrung her hands
in mute agony; there, another was weeping quietly;
while still another gave vent to her grief by loud
lamentations. She understood the feelings of those
girls, who were ashamed to make their grief visible
and yet could not, without tears, look upon the pale
faces of their lovers, who even while drinking
became only sadder, and whose voices failed
them when they tried to sing. She felt with those
fathers who, seated around the table, spoke of noth-
THE ‘GRANDMOTHER. 293

ing, thought of nothing, except what they should do
without the help of their industrious boys, who had
been as their right hands; how they should miss
them, and how they were to live without them for
fourteen long years!— Grandmother sat down with
the children in the orchard. ”

After a while Christina came out, haggard, with
swollen eyes, and pale asa sheet. She wanted to
speak; but a stone lay upon her breast, and her
throat was drawn together so that she could not
utter a word. She leaned against the branch of a
blossoming apple tree. It was the same tree over
which on St. John’s eve she had thrown her wreath.
The wreath had fallen on the other side, and now,
when her fondest hopes should have been realized,
she must part with her lover. She covered her face
with her white apron and began to weep aloud.
Grandmother did not try to stop her. Milo came.
What had become of that ruddy face, those bright
eyes? He seemed to be carved out of marble.
Without a word he gave his hand to Grandmother,
embraced the girl so dear to him, and drawing from
his pocket an embroidered handkerchief, which
every girl works for the youth she loves, wiped
away the tears from her cheeks. They did not say
to each other how deep was their grief, but when a
stanza of the well-known song resounded from the
inn:

“When, dear love, I part with thee,
Two faithful hearts shall broken be;

Two faithful hearts and four eyes bright,
Shall mourn and weep both day and night,”

Christina threw her arms around her lover and,
sobbing violently, hid her face upon his bosom.

-
294 THE GRANDMOTHER.

That song was the echo of a melody that was heard
in their own hearts.

Grandmother arose, and the tears rolled down
her cheeks; Barunka also wept. Grandmother
placed her hand upon Milo’s shoulder, and said in a
deep voice: “God go with you and comfort you,
Jacob! Do your duty willingly, and it will not
seem so hard. If God grants success to my plan,
your parting will not be for long. Hope! You, my
child, if you love him, do not make this parting so
rouch more grievous by your lamentations! Fare-
well!” Thus saying she blessed Milo with the
cross, pressed his hand, and turning quickly took
the little girls by the hands and hurried home, hav-
ing the sweet consciousness that she had comforted
the sorrowing.

The lovers, into whose hearts Grandmother’s
words fell like dew upon a perishing flower, quick-
ening it to new life, stood under the blossoming
apple tree clasped in each other’s arms. A wagon
was heard entering the yard; it came for the soldiers.
Somebody called from the inn: “ Milo!—Christina!”
But they did not hear. What cared they? what was
the whole world to them? [Each held his whole
world in his arms.

In the afternoon, Mr. Beyer, too, bade his kind
hostess good bye. Mrs. Proshek, as usual, loaded
him and his son with food for the journey. Each
of the boys gave Orel something as a keepsake,
and Barunka presented him with a band for his hat,
When Adelka asked Grandmother what she should
give, she told her to give the rose that the Countess
had given her.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 295

« But, Grandma, you said I should keep it till I
am grown up and then wear it in my belt.”

“What you value the most, you must bestow
upon your friend, if you wish to do him honor.
Give it to him; it is becoming for girls to present
flowers.”

Adelka put the pretty rose into Orel’s hat.

“OQ my dear Adelka,” said Mr. Beyer, “1 don’t
know how long that rose will keep its beauty. Orel
isa wild bird, the whole day long he flies over
rocks and hills, in wind and rain.”

Adelka turned her questioning eyes to Orel.

“Do not think so, father,” said the boy looking
with great pleasure upon the gift; “ during the week
while I am in the mountains, my rose shall be put
away; I shall wear it only on Sundays and holidays,
and then it will always stay pretty.”

Adelka was pleased. No one thought that she
herself would be the rose for which, some day, Orel
would long, which he would carry off into the
snow-covered mountains, and there in the seclusion
of the forest keep and cherish for his delight; that
her love would become the light and bliss of his
whole life. .
CHAPTER XV.

HE Pentecost holidays were over; Grand-
mother called them green holidays, probably
because everything both inside and outside the
house was decorated with foliage; so that whether
they sat at the table or slept on their beds, they were
“under the green.” Corpus Christi and St. John
the Baptist’s were also gone. The voice of the
nightingale was heard no more in the thicket, the
swallows under the eaves were leading: forth their
young, on top of the oven with the old cats lay a May
kitten, which Adelka loved to pet. Her black hen
was leading about a brood of half-grown chickens,
and Sultan and Tyrol were again jumping into the
water to catch water rats, which gave occasion to
the old spinners to start the report that the foot
bridge at The Old Bleachery was haunted by a
waterman.

Adelka used to go with Vorsa to watch Spotty
in the pasture; she also helped Grandmother collect
herbs, or sat with her in the yard under the old
linden, whose blossoms they dried for tea. Here
also she recited her lessons to her. In the afternoon,
when they went to meet the children returning
from school, they took a stroll in the fields, where
Grandmother stopped to see how her flax was doing.
She loved to look at the broad, manorial wheat
fields, for their full heads were fast turning yellow,
and when the wind swept them into billows, it was
such a beautiful sight that she could scarcely turn

296
THE GRANDMOTHER. 2907

away her eyes. When she met Kuderna, who was
watching the fields, she would say: “God blesses
the country with abundant harvest; may he also
keep it from all damage!”

“ Yes, there is some reason to fear; the weather
for several days has been unusually hot,” he replied
as he turned his eyes to study the clouds.

Whenever they passed the field of peas, Kuderna
picked Adelka’s apron full of nice green pods;
quieting his conscience by observing that the
Princess would not object, seeing she was so fond
of Mr. Proshek’s children.

Barunka did not bring Adelka any more gum
or sweet wood from school, for as soon as the
cherry woman took her stand near the schoolhouse,
she brought each day a kreutzer’s worth of cher-
ries; or when she took the path through the oak
grove, she gathered strawberries for her little
sister, putting them in a little birch-bark basket that
she had made for the purpose. Later in the season
she brought huckleberries, and finally hazel nuts.
Grandmother gathered mushrooms and taught the
children to know the good from the poisonous.
July was over, and at the beginning of August the
Princess would come, and also their father. In addi-
tion to these pleasures, vacation was close at hand.
Mrs. Proshek went to the castle to see that all was
in readiness for the arrival of the mistress, and the
gardener almost ran his legs off in his anxiety lest
the garden should not be in the best possible condi-
tion. He scrutinized the sward to see that no blade

_of grass was higher than another; he raised up the
leaning branches of the plants for fear some weed
might still be hidden beneath them. Preparations
298 THE GRANDMOTHER.

were made everywhere for the coming of the mis-
tress. Those to whom her arrival would bring
some gain rejoiced, while others were vexed.
Among the latter was the steward, who grew more
and more humble each day, and when the report
was circulated that she would be in the castle the
next day, he became so meek that he returned the
greeting of the forester quite respectfully, something
that he never did in the winter, when he regarded
himself the first person on the estate of the
Princess.

Grandmother at all times wished well to the
Princess, and always remembered her in her
prayers; but if with her coming had not been con-
nected that of Mr. Proshek, it would have been all
the same to her whether she came or not. On this
occasion, however, she could hardly restrain her
impatience; she had something on her mind that
she confided to no one.

The harvest began in the early part of August,
and the Princess came with all her attendants. The
steward’s daughter was expecting the Italian, but
was disappointed, for he had been left in Vienna.
Mrs. Proshek’s face beamed with joy, for the chil-
dren had their dear father with them. Grand-
mother’s face, it is true, grew somewhat sad when
she saw that John came without Johanna. He
brought her a letter, in which her daughter sent her
a thousand greetings from Aunt Dorothy and from
Uncle, but said, that on account of her uncle’s
illness she could not come, for she could not leave
her aunt to care for the sick man and see to the
housework besides. She wrote that her lover was
a worthy young man, that her aunt was satisfied
THE GRANDMOTHER. 299

with him, and that she would make a wedding for
them on St. Katherine’s, and that they were only
waiting for Grandmother’s consent. “ As soon as
it is possible, after we are married, we will come
to Bohemia to receive your blessing, dearest
mother, and to make you acquainted with my
George, whom, however, we call Jura. He is not
a Bohemian, his home being somewhere on the
Turkish boundary, but you can speak with him, for
I have taught him Bohemian more quickly than
Theresa taught John. I should have preferred one
of our nationality, for I know you would have been
more pleased; but, dearest mother, what can one do?
The heart will not be constrained, and I have chosen
my Krobat.” Thus the letter ended.

Theresa read the letter. John was present and
said: “It sounds as if I heard her, our joyous
Hannah; she is a good girl, and Jura is a worthy
young man. I know him; he is the foreman
at Uncle’s, where Hannah is, and whenever I
entered the blacksmith shop I loved to look at Jura,
— a fellow like a mountain! it would not be easy to
find his equal.”

& There was one word there, Theresa, that I did
not understand, somewhere near the end; read it for
me again,” said Grandmother.

“It was ‘ Krobat,’ was it not?”

“ Yes, that’s it.”

“‘ That is what they call a Croat in Vienna.”

“Js that what it means? May God grant her
happiness! But who would have guessed from
what remote regions they would come to meet each
other! And his name is George, the same as her
father’s!”
300 THE GRANDMOTHER.

With these words she brushed away the tears
that came into her eyes, folded the letter, and went
to hide it in the side drawer of her chest.

The children were delighted to have their father
with them. They never grew weary of looking at
him, and each interrupted the other in trying to tell.
him all that had happened during the year, which,
however, he already knew from their mother’s
letters. “Now you will stay with us the whole
winter, won’t you, Papa?” asked Adelka, coax-
ingly, stroking his beard, which was her favorite
way of caressing him.

« And, Papa, when it is sleighing, you’ll give
us a ride in that beautiful sleigh, and hang the bells
on the horse? Our Godfather from town came
for us once in the winter; we went there with
Mamma; Grandmother would not go. How
it went, and how the bells jingled! People ran out
to see who in the world was coming,” cried Willie,
and before the father could put in a word John said:
«“ Papa, when I am big, I shall be a gamekeeper.
When I leave school, I shall go to Mr. Beyer’s to
learn, and Orel will go the Riesenburg gamekeeper
to learn.”

“ Very well, only you must first be very diligent
in school,” said the father smiling, but leaving the
boy full freedom of choice.

His dear friends, the gamekeeper and the miller,
came to welcome Mr. Proshek. The whole house-
hold grew happier, and even Sultan and Tyrol
rushed out to meet Hector with unwonted glee, as
if they wished to tell him some good news. Mr.
Proshek liked them; they had not been whipped
since they had killed the goslings, and whenever
THE GRANDMOTHER. 301

they came to meet him he patted them on the head.
Grandmother seeing their joy, said that animals
knew well who was kind to them, and never
forgot it.

« And is the Countess quite well?” asked the
gamékeeper’s wife, who also came to welcome Mr.
Proshek home.

«“ They say she is, but I think she is not. Some-
thing must prey on her mind. She was always
delicate, but now she seems only a spirit, and her
eyes seem to look down from heaven. I could
weep when I see her; she is an angel. The
Princess is filled with sorrow and anxiety, and
from the time the Countess was taken ill, there
have been no merrymakings in our house. Just
before her illness she was about to be betrothed to
a certain Count. He comes from a wealthy family,
and the-Princess thinks a great deal of his parents,
and was very desirous to have this marriage
take place. I don’t know what to think of it,”
added Mr. Proshek, shaking his head dubiously.

«And what does the Count say?” asked the
women.

“What should he say? He must be content to
wait till she gets well. If she dies he can put on
mourning, if he really loves her. They say he
wants to follow her to Italy.”

“ Does Hortense like the Count?” asked Grand-
mother.

“Who can tell! If she hasn’t given her heart
to any one else, she could learn to like him; he is a
handsome man,” replied Mr. Proshek.

“ That is, if she doesn’t like any one else,” said
the miller, passing his open snuff box to Mr. Pro-
302 THE GRANDMOTHER.

shek; “there is no disputing of tastes.” This was
his favorite saying. “Now, our bar-maid from
the tavern could be married, and not go about as if
she had been put under the water, if those deuced
fellows had not taken away what she liked,” con-
tinued the miller taking a pinch of snuff, and cast-
ing a side glance upon Christina who was there
also.

“T was sorry for both of you, when I learned
from Theresa’s letter what had happened,” said
Mr. Proshek, looking kindly upon Christina’s pale
face. “Has Milo become somewhat reconciled to
his lot?”

«What can he do? he must be reconciled. It is
hard enough for him,” replied Christina, turning to
the window to hide her tears.

«“ Yes, indeed,” said the gamekeeper ; “shut a bird
up in a golden cage, and he will still prefer the
woods.”

“Especially if his mate is pining there without
him,” said the miller, with a mischievous smile.

“J, too, was a soldier,” began Mr. Proshek: a
smile played about his lips as he said this, and his
blue eyes turned to his wife.

She smiled in return, as she said: “ Yes, and
what a hero you were!”

“Don’t you laugh, Theresa; when you and aunt
Dorothy came to the fortifications to see us drill,
you wept, both of you.”

“And you with us,” laughed Mrs, Proshek;
“but at that time nobody was in a laughing mood,
except, perhaps, those who observed us.”

“TI must confess,” said the tender hearted Mr
Proshek, “that it was all the same to me whether
THE GRANDMOTHER. 303

they called me an old woman or a hero. I had no
longing for the latter distinction. The whole of
those fourteen days that I was a soldier I spent in
sighs and tears; I scarcely ate or slept, so that when
I was discharged, I was but a shadow.”

“So you were a soldier only fourteen days! Hm!
that would suit Milo, if they would count his days
as years,” observed the miller.

“ But I should not have suffered so much, had I
known that a good friend was trying to pay me
out, and, that my brother was offering to act as
substitute. It came to me wholly as a surprise.
My brother liked a soldier’s life, and was in every
way better adapted to it than I; still, I do not think
that Iam a coward! If it were necessary to guard
family and home, I should be the first in the ranks.
Weare not all alike; one is adapted to this, another
to that. Is it not so Theresa?”

Thus speaking, he placed his hand upon The-
resa’s shoulder and looked lovingly into her eyes.

“Yes, yes, John, you belong with us,” replied
Grandmother for her daughter, and all agreed
with her, knowing Mr. Proshek’s gentle disposi-
tion.

When the company was about to leave, Christina
slipped into Grandmother’s room, and drawing a
letter from her bosom, upon whose seal was the
impression of a soldier’s button, said almost in a
whisper: “ From Jacob!”

“Indeed! And what does he write?” asked
Grandmother.

Christina unfolded the letter and began to read
slowly:

“ My dearest Christina, I greet and kiss you a
304 THE GRANDMOTHER.

thousand times. But alas! I should prefer to kiss
you once in reality than a thousand times on paper;
but a great distance lies between us, so that we can-
not come to each other. I know that’ many times
each day you think: ‘I wonder how Jacob is? What
is he doing?’ I haveenough to do, but such work!
The body works while the thoughts are elsewhere.
Were I free like Anton Vitkov, perhaps I might
learn to like a soldier’s life; my comrades are be-
coming accustomed to it, and soon they will not be
so lonesome. I, too, learn everything and find no
fault; but nothing seems to interest me, and instead
of becoming accustomed to it, itseems harder every
day. The whole day long I think only of you, my
dear dove, and if I knew you were well, if I had a
single greeting from you, I should be happy.
When I stand guard and watch the birds flying
in the direction of our village, I think: ‘ Why can’t
they speak, so that they can carry my greeting to
my love?’ or rather I wish that I myself might be
a bird, and fly away to you. Doesn’t Proshek’s
Grandmother say anything? What did she mean
by saying that perhaps our parting would not be
for long? Do you know? When I feel the worst
I think of her last words, and it seems as if God
himself came to me, pouring fresh hope into my
soul, and that she will find some way to help us.
She never speaks in vain. Send me a few lines to
comfort me; some one can write them for you; tell
me everything, you understand? Did you get the
grainin dry? Harvest has begun here, too. When
I see the reapers going into the fields, I wantto fling
everything aside and run away. I beg you, Chris-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 305

tina, don’t go alone to the socage,* they will question
you and grieve your heart, don’t go. And that
good-for-nothing.— that clerklet ”

“How foolish he is! Does he think that I
could ” frowned Christina, but began reading
further: “would not let you alone. Stay near
Tomesh. I charged him before I left to be your
right hand. Give him my greeting,— and Anna,
too! Remember me also to my folks, to Grand-
mother and the children, and to all my friends. I
could say so much more, that it could not be put
upon a piece of paper the size of Zernov hill; but I
must go to stand guard. When I stand guard at
night, I sing:

 

 

‘Ye stars so beautiful, how small you are.’

‘You remember we sang it together the evening
before I left; you broke down and wept. O,
heavens! how those little stars used to cheer us up;
but only God knows whether they will ever cheer
us again. May God bless you. Good bye!”

Christina folded the letter, and turned her ques-
tioning eyes to Grandmother’s face.

“ You can be comforted; he is a good boy; give
him my greeting and tell him to trust in God; tell
him the darkest days pass away and the sun shines
again, and his sun, too, will shine. I cannot tell
you positively, it is thus or so, as long as I am not
certain. Whenit is necessary, go with the reapers;
I want you to present the garland to the Princess
at the harvest festival, for since you work in her
fields, it will be becoming for you to do it ?”

Christina was comforted by these words, and

*Service due the lords from their tenants, being usually work in the
fields.
306 THE GRANDMOTHER.

promised to do everything according to Grand-
mother’s advice. Since Mr. Proshek’s return
Grandmother had asked him several times when
the Princess was likely to be at home, and what
were her accustomed places of resort, till Mr. Pro-
shek was surprised. “Never before has she been
curious to know what was going on in the castle;
the castle did not seem to exist for her, but now she
asks and asks. What does she want?” But she
did not tell them. They did not wish to question
her; therefore they learned nothing, and ascribed
her queries to inquisitiveness.

In a few days Mr. Proshek took his wife and
children to town; he wanted them to have a good
time. Vorsa and Betsey went into the fields, while
Grandmother watched the house. She took her
spindle and went into the yard under the linden as
was her custom. Something seemed to weigh upon
her mind, for now and then she shook her head,
then nodded, and finally, as if she had decided what
to do, she said aloud: “ That is the way I'll do it.”
At this moment she saw the Countess coming down
the hillside past the oven and over the footbridge.
She had on a white dress and a round straw hat;
she walked as lightly as a fairy, and her feet, en-
cased in satin gaiters, hardly touched the ground.
Grandmother arose quickly and welcomed her
with joy; but her heart ached, when she looked
into the girl’s face, so pale that the skin seemed
transparent, and so resigned and full of deep pain
that no one could gaze on her without pitying her.

“ Alone! and so quiet here,” said Hortense, after
returning Grandmother’s greeting.

“ Yes, all the rest have gone to town with their
THE GRANDMOTHER. 307

father; they cannot enjoy him enough after having
missed him so long,” replied Grandmother as she
brushed the dust from the bench with her apron
before asking the Countess to be seated.

“ Yes, indeed, that was a long time, but I was
to blame.”

“Ts one to blame, dear Countess, when God
visits one with illness. All of us were so sorry for
you and prayed every day that God would restore
you tohealth. Health is a precious treasure that
one is apt to value only when it is lost. It would
have been a great pity to lose you, you areso young,
and her grace, the Princess, would have been over-
whelmed with grief.”

«“ T know that well,” sighed the Countess, placing
her clasped hands upon a beautifully bound album
that was lying in her lap.

“You are so pale, dear Countess, what ails
you?” asked Grandmother, with great sympathy,
looking upon Hortense, who seemed the embodi-
ment of sorrow.

“ Nothing, Grandma,” replied the Countess,
with a forced smile, which, however, only revealed
the pain it was meant to conceal.

Grandmother did not venture any more ques-
tions, but she felt sure that physical illness was not
the only thing that troubled the Countess.

After a moment of silence, the Countess began
to inquire what had been going on in the cottage
during her absence, and whether the children
thought of her. Grandmother gladly told her, and
in turn asked how the Princess was and what she
was doing.

“The Princess rode to the gamekeeper’s,” re-
308 THE GRANDMOTHER.

plied the Countess. “I got permission to remain
here so that I might sketch this vale, and make you
a visit. She will stop for me on her way back.”

“Really, it seems as if God himself sent her!”
rejoiced Grandmother; “I must pat on a clean
apron; one gets all dusty from this flax. Excuse
me, if you please, I will return presently!”

Grandmother hurried into the house, and before
long returned with a clean apron, and clean ker-
chiefs both on her head and neck, and bringing
white bread, honey, butter, and cream.

“Perhaps, your Grace would relish a piece of
bread; it was baked yesterday. But let us go into
the orchard, it is pleasanter there. When I am
alone, I prefer to sit here under this linden, for I
like to have the poultry about my feet.”

“ Then, let us remain here, I am quite comfort-
able,” said the Countess, taking the refreshments
Grandmother brought. She did not wait for Grand-
mother to urge her to eat, but took some bread and
a glass of cream. She knew that if she accepted
nothing, Grandmother would feel hurt. Then she
opened the album and showed Grandmother what
she had sketched.

“Oh, dear Lord!” exclaimed Grandmother,
“here we have the whole country above the dam;
the meadows, the hillside, the woods, and here is
Victorka, too!”

“She suits this lonely region well. I met her on
the hillside; she looked bad. Cannot anything be
done for her?” asked the Countess in a voice full
of pity.

“Oh your Grace, her body could be helped, but
her trouble is not there. Her mind is wandering;
THE GRANDMOTHER. 309

what she does, she does as ina dream. Perhaps God
out of pity took away the remembrance of her sor-
row, which must have been heavy, indeed. Should
her reason return, she might in despair lose her
own soul, as— well, God forgive her if she sinned;
she has suffered enough,” said Grandmother, turn-
ing over another leaf. A new wonder. “In all my
life! why this is The Old Bleachery, the yard, the
linden, — here am I and the children, and the dogs,
—everything! Well, well, in my old age what
wonders do I see! What would our folks say!”
exclaimed Grandmother, more and more astonished.

“TI never forget people that once were dear to
me,” said the Countess, “but that I may retain a
clear image of their faces, I usually paint them. It
is the same with places in which I have spent happy
days. I love to transfer them to paper, so that I
may have a pleasant remembrance of them. This
vale here is most charming. If you would not
object, Grandma,I should like to paint your pic-
ture for your grandchildren.”

Grandmother blushed, shook her head, and said:
“Such an old woman as I, why that wouldn’t do
at all!”

«“ Never mind, Grandma, when you are at home
alone, I will come over and paint you; I will d®it for
your children’s sake, I know they will be delighted.”

“Since your Grace desires it, I cannot object,
but, I beg of you, nobody must know anything
about it; they would say I am becoming vain.
While I am with them, they need no picture; but
when I am gone, — let it be as you say!”

The Countess was satisfied.

« But where did your Grace learn this? In all
310 THE GRANDMOTHER.

my life I never heard of women painters,” said
Grandmother, turning over another leaf,

“ Among our class of people we must learn a
great many things that we may know how to pass
away our time, and I took a fancy to painting,”
replied the Countess.

“It is an excellent thing,” remarked Grand-
mother, looking upon a picture that was loosely
placed in the album. In the foreground of the
picture was a rock overgrown with shrubbery, its
base washed by the waves of the sea. A young
man stood upon the rock, holding a rosebud in his
hand, and gazing out over the sea, upon whose
bosom were seen in the distance several ships with
outspread sails.

“ Did your Grace paint this, too? ” asked Grand-
mother.

“No, the artist from whom I took lessons gave
that to me,” replied the Countess in a low voice,

“ That perhaps is himself?”

The Countess did not at once reply; her face
turned crimson; she arose. “It seems to me that
the Princess is coming,” she said.

Grandmother took the hint 3 she now understood
what ailed the Countess.

Tite Princess was not coming. The young
lady sat down again, and after several attempts
Grandmother succeeded in turning the conversation
upon Christina and Milo; she confided to the
Countess her intention of speaking to the Princess
about it, The young lady approved of the plan,
and promised to intercede for them.

The Princess returned through the path, while
the empty carriage was taken along the road. She
THE GRANDMOTHER. 311

greeted Grandmother very heartily, and brought a
bouquet for Hortense, saying: “ You are very fond
of wild pinks! I gathered these for you along the,
way.”

The Countess bowed, kissed the hand of the
Princess, and put the pinks in her belt.

“ These are tears,” said Grandmother, looking
at the bouquet.

“ Tears?” wondered both the ladies.

“Yes, the tears of the Virgin. That’s what
these flowers are called. When the Jews led Christ
to Calvary, the Virgin Mary followed, although
her heart was breaking with grief. When she saw
on the way the bloody tracks of Christ’s wounds,
she wept bitterly, and from those tears of Christ’s
mother and the blood of her son sprang forth,
along the way to Calvary, such flowers as these,”
said Grandmother.

«“ Then they are the flowers of grief and love,”
said the Princess.

“Lovers never pick them for each other, lest
they should bring them tears,” returned Grand-
mother, at the same time offering the Princess a
glass of cream and humbly begging her to partake
of her hospitality.

The Princess did not refuse. Grandmother con-
tinued: “Indeed, they have enough to weep for,
even if they gather no tears, for there is always
much grief as well as joy. If they are happy in
each other’s love, envious people are sure to pour
in some wormwood.”

“ Dearest Princess, Grandmother wants to inter-
cede for two unhappy lovers. I beg you to listen
and, dearest Princess, help!” The Countess clasped
312 THE GRANDMOTHER.

her hands and looked up imploringly into the face
of her guardian.

“Speak, my good woman, you know I told you
once that if you should come to me for help, I
would gladly grant your request; I know you
would not beg for any one who is unworthy,” said
the Princess, smoothing the glossy hair of her ward
and looking kindly at Grandmother.

“TI should not presume to come to your Grace,
if I thought they were unworthy.”

Then she told about Christina and Milo, and
how he came to be taken into the army, keeping
back only the poor girl’s persecution by the stew-
ard. She did not want to injure him any more
than was necessary.

“That is the same girl whose lover had that
quarrel with Piccolo.”

«“ The same, your Grace.”

“Ts she so pretty that all the men fight for her?”

«“ A girl like a strawberry, your Grace; at the
harvest festival she will present the wreath, so your
Grace can see her. To be sure, sorrow doesn’t add
any beauty; when a girl grieves for love, her head
droops like a faded flower. Christina is now but
the shadow of herself, but one word will restore
her, so that she will soon be as before. Her Grace,
the Countess, is also very pale; but when she sees
her old home and what is dear to her heart, her
cheeks will blossom out like rose petals,” added
Grandmother giving the words, “dear to her heart,”
such an emphasis that the young lady was startled.
The Princess cast a keen glance first upon the
Countess then upon Grandmother, but the latter
acted as if nothing had happened; she wanted to
THE GRANDMOTHER. 313

give a hint, that was all. She thought: “If the
happiness of that child lies near her heart, she will
seek further.”

After a moment of silence the Princess arose,
placed her hand upon Grandmother’s shoulder, and
said in a pleasant voice: “Ill care for those lovers.
But you, my good woman, come to me about this
time to-morrow.” .

“ Dear Princess,” said the Countess, placing the
book under her arm, “ Grandmother has consented
that I shall paint her picture, but wants it to remain
a secret while she lives. How can we do it?”

“Come to the castle, Grandmother; Hortense
can paint you there. While you live, I shall keep
the picture. She will paint your grandchildren,
too; but that picture will be for you, so that when
they are grown up you can see how they looked
when they were small.”

Thus speaking, the Princess bowed, entered the
carriage with the Countess, and rode toward the
castle.

Grandmother went into the house, her heart
overflowing with joy and thankfulness.
CHAPTER XVI.

HE morning was hot and sultry. Everybody,
old and young, worked in the fields so as to
get in at least what grain was already cut. The
householders were obliged to put in a good part of
the night, so that they might be able to keep up
with their own work and the socage required by
their manor lords. The sun shone scorchingly hot,
and the baked ground cracked beneath its burning
rays. People panted with heat, the flowers wilted,
the birds flew near the ground, the animals sought
the shade. From early dawn clouds gathered here
and there above the horizon; at first small and gray
or white. As the day advanced they grew more
numerous, collected in heaps, rose higher, clash-
ed and rifted, leaving long dark fissures. Their
color grew darker and darker, till by noon the
whole western sky was enveloped in a heavy, black
cloud, which was drawing toward the sun. The
reapers looked upon the sky with fear. Although
they were panting from exhaustion, each redoubled
his exertions, not waiting to be urged on by the
overseer’s imprecations and curses. This was his
custom in order that the people might not forget
that he was their master and had a right to demand
due respect for his authority.

Grandmother sat upon the doorsill; she was
watching with great anxiety the clouds, which were
already above the house. Adelka and the boys

314
THE GRANDMOTHER. 315

were playing in the yard, but were so warm that
they would have gladly taken off their clothes and
jumped into the stream, if Grandmother had only
given them permission. Adelka, who was always
bright and active as a linnet, was gaping; she did
not feel like playing; and finally her eyes closed
and she was asleep. Grandmother, too, felt her
eyelids growing heavy. The swallows flew low,
and at last hid in their nests; the spider that Grand-
mother had watched that morning, as he decoyed
and devoured several flies, concealed himself in his
den; the poultry in the yard gathered in groups;
the dogs lay stretched at Grandmother’s feet, and
with their tongues drawn out as if they had come
from some wild chase, panted for breath. The trees
stood perfectly quiet; not a leaf stirred.

Mr. and Mrs. Proshek came home from the cas-
tle. ‘My dear people, a terrible storm is coming
on, is everything safe at home?” called Mrs. Proshek
from afar. The linen bleaching on the grass, the
poultry, the children, — everything was attended to
and put out of the way of danger. Grandmother
placed a loaf of bread upon the table and got ready
the “blessed” storm candle. All the windows were
closed. The air was sultry, the sun was covered
by a dark cloud. Mr. Proshek stood in the road,
looking in all directions. In the woods he saw Vic-
torka standing under a tree; a brisk wind came up,
the hollow rumbling of thunder was heard, streaks
of lightning shot through the dark clouds. “Heavens,
that woman stands under a tree!” said Mr. Proshek
to himself and began to call and motion to Victorka
to go away. She, however, did not notice him,
and at each flash of lightning clapped her hands
316 THE GRANDMOTHER.

and laughed aloud. Great drops of rain began to
fall, zigzag lightnings gleamed through the black
clouds, the thunder roared, and the storm burst forth
in all its fury. Mr. Proshek hastened into the
house. Grandmother had the blessed candle lighted ;
she was praying with the children, who turned pale
every time the lightning struck. Mr. Proshek went
from window to window, looking outside. The
rain came down in torrents, and the sky was a con-
tinuous sheet of lightning; peal after peal of thunder
was heard, as if the furies were flying through the
air, A moment of silence,— then again the bluish
yellow light gleamed in the windows, two fiery
snakes crossed each other in the sky, and —crash!
crash! came two explosions in quick succession,
directly above the house. Grandmother wanted to
say: “God be with us!” but the words died upon
her lips; Mrs. Proshek took hold of the table, Mr.
Proshek turned pale, Vorsa and Betsey fell upon
their knees, and the children began to cry. With
that last stroke the storm seemed to have spent its
wrath, and now began to pass away. The rumbling
of the thunder grew lower and lower, the clouds
gradually scattered, they changed color, and already
the blue sky was seen behind the gray curtain.
Lightnings gleamed only now and then, the rain
ceased, — the storm was over.

What a change outside! The earth rested as if
she were weary; her limbs still trembled, and the
sun looked down at her with a tear-stained, but
glowing eye, though now and then clouds were seen
over his face, the remaining signs of the recent
tempest. The grass and the flowers were beaten
to the ground; streams of water were flowing along
THE GRANDMOTHER. 317

the sides of the road; in the river the water was
muddy; the trees shook off thousands of glittering
drops from their bright green foliage; the birds
again swept through the air; the geese and ducks
were enjoying the pools of water that the rain had
made for them; the chickens were running about
seeking worms which were seen squirming in great
numbers on the ground; the spider came out of his
den. All creatures seemed refreshed and hastening
out to new enjoyment of life, to new struggles and
conquests.

Mr. Proshek went outdoors, walked around the
house, and behold! the old pear tree, whose branches
for so many years had sheltered the house, was
split from top to bottom by the lightning! half of
it lay on the roof, the other half was bent to the
ground. That old wild pear tree had not borne fruit
for many years; still they loved it, for with its wide
branches it had shaded the house from spring to
winter.

The rain had done some damage in the fields,
but the people were thankful that it was no worse;
they had all feared that a hail storm was coming
up. In the afternoon the roads began to dry, so
that the miller could go,.as was his custom, to the
lock in his slippers. As Grandmother was going
to the castle she met him; he told her that the heavy
rain had done some damage to his fruit trees. Then
he asked her where she was going and offered her
a pinch of snuff; when she told him, they bade
each other good day, and went their several ways.

Mr. Leopold must have received orders to take
Grandmother to the Princess without any announce-
ment; for as soon as she appeared at the entrance,
318 THE GRANDMOTHER.

he opened the doors to her without any delay or
ceremony and showed her into a small parlor where
the Princess was sitting. She was alone and bade
Grandmother to be seated beside her.

“Your simpleheartedness and sincerity please
me greatly; I place entire confidence in you, and
think you will tell me honestly what I ask you?”
began the Princess.

“How could I do otherwise, your Grace? only
ask, I shall be too glad to reply,” said Grandmother,
wondering what it could be that the Princess want-
ed to know.

“You said yesterday that when the Countess
reaches her native land and sees what is dear to
her heart, her cheeks will regain their color. You
placed such emphasis upon those words that my
curiosity was aroused. Was I mistaken, or did you
do it intentionally?” Thus speaking, the Princess
looked keenly upon her visitor.

Grandmother was not confused. She considered
a moment, then said candidly: “I said it intention-
ally; what was in my mind came to my tongue. I
wanted to give your Grace a hint; sometimes a
word spoken in season is profitable.”

“Did the Countess confide in you?” questioned
the Princess further.

“ Heaven forbid! Her Grace is not one of those
that parade their grief before the whole world; but
when we have suffered ourselves, we are quick to
understand others.”

“What did you understand? What did you
hear? Tell me all about it; it is not curiosity, but
anxiety for my child, whom I dearly love, that
THE GRANDMOTHER. 319

impels ine to want to know all”, said the Princess
much disturbed.

“JT can tell you all I heard, for it is nothing
wrong, and I did not promise on my soul not to
tell,” replied Grandmother, and began to relate how
she had heard of the betrothal and illness of the
Countess. “One thought suggests another,” she
said; “and it often happens that one can judge
better of a thing when seeing it froma distance
than when observing it close at hand; reflection,
too, brings wisdom. Thus, your Grace, it occurred
to me that, perhaps, the Countess did not like to
marry that nobleman, and only consented because
she knew it would please your Grace. Yesterday,
as I observed her so pale and wan, I could have
wept; we were looking at those beautiful pictures
that she painted, —it is wonderful, —and then we
came to a picture, which, as she told me, her teacher
painted and gave her. I asked her if that hand-
some gentleman was the painter himself,—an old
person, like a child, wants to know everything. She
blushed, arose, made no reply, but her eyes filled
with tears. That was enough for me, and your
Grace can tell best, whether the old woman was
right.”

The Princess arose, paced the floor several
times, and then said as if speaking to herself: «I
observed nothing; she was always cheerful and
submissive. She never spoke of him.”

“Well,” replied Grandmother to these audible
thoughts, “natures differ. One would not be happy
if he could not set up every joy, every sorrow for
the wonder of the world; another carries them hid-
den in his bosom all his life, and takes them with
320 THE GRANDMOTHER.

him to the grave. It is hard to win such people, but
love begets love. People seem to me like plants; for
some we need not go far,— we find them in every
meadow, in every hedge; for others we must go
into the forest’s deep shade, we must search for them
under the leaves, must not be discouraged if we
climb over hills and rocks, or if brambles and thorns
obstruct our way. But our labors, in this case, are
rewarded a hundred fold. The old herb woman
that comes to us from the mountains always says
when she brings us fragrant moss: ‘I must search
long before I find it, but it pays.’ That moss has
the odor of violets, and its fragrance reminds one of
spring. But pardon me, your Grace, I always
wander away from the subject. I was going to
say that perhaps the Countess was happy because
she had hope; and now, when she has lost that,
she realizes her grief. How often is it that we do
not value our blessings until we have lost them.”

“TI thank you, Grandmother, for your sugges-
tion,” said the Princess. “TY fear I shall not be the
gainer by it, but what care I, if she is only happy.
She will have you alone to thank, for without you
I never should have guessed the truth. I will keep
you no longer. The Countess is preparing to paint;
so to-morrow come here with the children.”

With these words she dismissed Grandmother,
who went home happy that with a good word she
had contributed to the happiness of another human
being.

Approaching the house, she met the gamekeeper;
he was excited, his step was quick. “ Listen, hear
what has happened!” he said to Grandmother in a
voice full of sorrow.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 321

“Do not frighten me, but tell me quickly, what
is it?”

“ Victorka was struck by God’s messenger!”

Grandmother clasped her hands. It was some
time before she could utter a word, then two great
tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘God loved her, let:
us be glad that he has called her home!” she said
quietly.

“Her death was easy,” said the gamekeeper.

Just then the children and Mr. and Mrs. Proshek
came out, and hearing the sad news stood’ mute
with grief. At length Mr. Proshek said: “I was
greatly concerned about her before the storm, when
I saw her standing under the tree. I called, I mo-
tioned, but she only laughed. I saw her then for
the last time. It is well.”

“ Who found her, and where?”

“ After the storm I went into the woods to see
if much damage had been done; I reached the top
of the hill where those united fir trees stand, as you
know, just above Victorka’s cave. I saw something
lying under some green fir branches and called, but
there was no reply. I looked up to see where -the
branches came from. Both the firs, on the sides
next to each other had their branches and bark torn
off from top to bottom. I raised the branches; be-
neath them lay Victorka—dead. I shook her, but
she was already cold. From her shoulder to her
foot, on the left side, her clothes were scorched. I
suppose she was pleased at the storm, —she always
laughed when it lightened,—and ran up on the
hill, —there is a fine view from that fir, and there
death overtook her.”

21
322 THE GRANDMOTHER.

«“ As it came to our pear tree,” said Grandmoth-
er. “And where did you put her?”

“JT had her carried to our house; it was the
nearest. Iam going to take charge of the funeral
myself, although her relatives object. I’ve been to
the village to announce it. I did not think we
should lose her so soon. I shall miss her,” said the
gamekeeper.

The tolling of the bell was now heard from
Zernov. They signed themselves and began to
pray; they knew it was for Victorka.

“May we go to see her?” begged the chidren.

«To-morrow you may come, when she is laid
out!” said the gamekeeper, taking his leave.

“Poor Victorka won’t come to our house any
more; we shall never again hear her singing above
the dam; she has gone to heaven!” said the chil-
dren returning to their tasks without even asking
Grandmother about the Countess.

“Certainly she is in heaven, for she suffered
enough upon earth,” thought Grandmother.

The news of Victorka’s death spread quickly
over the whole neighborhood; every one who knew
her pitied her, and was glad, therefore, that death
found her, especially such a death, they said, “as
God sends to but few people.” They had always
pitied her, but now that pity was joined with rev-
erence.

The next day, when Grandmother and the chil-
dren went to the castle to be sketched and painted,
the Princess spoke of Victorka. The Countess,
hearing how the unfortunate girl was loved both at
The Old Bleachery and the gamekeeper’s, prom-
ised that she would paint for them copies of the
THE GRANDMOTHER. 323

picture that she had shown to Grandmother, in
which Victorka was seen standing under a tree.

“She wants to do something for everybody,
before she leaves; she would like to take all of you
with her,” smiled the Princess.

“What is better than to be among those that
love us, what greater happiness than to make oth-
ers happy?” said Grandmother.

The children thought it was a grand thing to
have their pictures painted, — no one knew anything
about Grandmother’s,—they also looked forward
with great eagerness to the gifts the Countess
promised them, if they would sit very quiet. Grand-
mother watched how under the skillful hand of the
artist the features of her loved ones appeared clearer
and clearer, and reproved the children whenever
they indulged some foolish habit. “Johnny, do
not stand upon one foot, you will be lopsided! You,
Barunka, don’t wrinkle up your nose like a rabbit,
how you would look! Willie, don’t raise your
shoulders all the time as a goose raises her wings
when she loses a quill!” But when Adelka forgot
herself so far as to put her index finger into her
mouth, then Grandmother scolded: “Are you not
ashamed, a maid big enough to cut her own bread! *
Some day I must sprinkle some pepper upon it.”

The Countess enjoyed her work very much and
had many a hearty laugh at the children’s expense.
Indeed, she seemed to grow brighter every day, so
that Grandmother remarked that she appeared to
her not so much like a rose as like the buds of an

* Among the country folk of Bohemia, bread is baked once in two
or three weeks. The loaves are very large, and at the end of two weeks
are so hard that it is quite a feat for a child to cut them.
324 THE GRANDMOTHER.

apple tree just before it blossoms. She was happier,
her’ eye was clearer and sparkled with a new light;
she had a pleasant smile for everyone, and spoke
only of those things that she knew interested oth-
ers. Sometimes she fixed her eyes upon Grand-
mother, tears seemed to gather in them, she cast
aside her brush, put her arm around her neck, kissed
her wrinkled forehead, and smoothed her white
hair. Once she bent down and kissed her hand.

Grandmother had not expected this; she was
startled, turned red, and then said: “ What-is your
Grace doing? Such honor does not belong to me!”

“IT know what I am doing and for what I have
to thank you. You were my good angel!” she
said as she knelt at Grandmother’s feet.

“Then may God bless you and grant you all
the happiness you desire!” said Grandmother,
placing her hands upon the forehead of the kneel-
ing girl, a forehead white and clear, like the petals
of a lily.

“IT shall pray for you and for the Princess, she
is a good lady.”

The gamekeeper stopped at The Old Bleachery
the day after the storm to let them know that they
could now come to take a last look at Victorka and
to bid her farewell. Mrs. Proshek did not like to
look at a corpse, so she remained at home; the mil-
ler’s wife had the same excuse, but the miller
declared that she was afraid lest Victorka’s ghost
should appear to her in the night. Christina was
in the manorial harvest field, so nobody went with
Grandmother and the children except Manchinka.
On their way they gathered flowers to make a
wreath, together with the mignonette which thev
THE GRANDMOTHER. 325

brought from home. The boys carried consecrated
pictures, which Grandmother had brought them
from the Svatonovitz shrine; Grandmother had a
rosary, and Manchinka, also, some pictures.

“Who would have thought that we were to
have a funeral?” said the gamekeeper’s wife, meet-
ing them at the door.

“ We are all here for a time; we arise in the
morning, but know not what the day will bring to
us,” replied Grandmother. The fawn came and
pushed her head against Adelka’s lap and the boys
and dogs surrounded the new comers.

“Where have you laid her out?” asked Grand-
mother, entering the hall.

“In the garden house,” replied the gamekeeper’s
wife, taking Nannie by the hand and leading the
guests into the garden.

The garden house, —or rather a sort of arbor, —
was lined inside with evergreens. In the middle of
the room upon a bier of rough birch wood stood a
plain coffin; in it lay Victorka. The gamekeeper’s
wife had dressed her in a white shroud. Her fore-
head was covered with a wreath of wild pinks,
and her head rested upon a pillow of moss. Her
hands were folded upon her breast as she was
wont to carry them when she was alive. The coffin
and the cover were trimmed with evergreens, a
lamp burned at her head, and at her feet was a
small vase with holy water, in which was a sprin-
kling brush made of ears of rye. The gamekeeper’s
wife had done everything, seen to everything her-
self; many times a day she had been in the little
arbor, so that the sight had become familiar to her;
but Grandmother stepped to the coffin, made the
326 THE GRANDMOTHER.

sign of the cross over the body, knelt down, and
began to pray. The children followed her exam-
le.

«“ Now tell me, are you satisfied, have we arranged
everything as it should be?” asked the gamekeep-
er’s wife anxiously, when Grandmother arose from
prayer. “We did not give her any more flowers
or pictures because we knew that you, too, would
want to put some little gifts into the grave.”

“Everything is well done, very well, indeed,”
replied Grandmother.

The gamekeeper’s wife took the flowers and
pictures from the children and placed them around
the body of Victorka. Grandmother twined the
rosary around her stiff hands, and looked long and
lovingly into her face. The wild expression was
gone! The black, burning eyes were closed, their
light had died out. The black, tangled masses of
hair were smoothly combed out, and around the
forehead, cold as marble, was wound a red wreath,
like the band of love. The distortion of features
which had made her hideous in wrath was not seen;
the muscles of the face were relaxed in calm repose;
but upon her lips lay her last thought, as if in her
surprise she had died with it, —a bitter smile.

« What was it that grieved thee, thou poor heart?
what did they do to thee?” said Grandmother in a
low voice. ‘Alas! no one can atone to thee for
thy sufferings. God will judge the guilty one.
Thou art in eternal light and peace.”

“The blacksmith’s wife wanted us to put
shavings under her head, but my husband would
have moss; I am afraid the people, and especially
her relatives, will say that we took charge of her
THE GRANDMOTHER. 327

funeral and then disposed of her as if she were a
pauper.”

“My dear woman, let the people say what
they will! After a person is dead, they would
wrap him in cloth of gold, but while he hives they
do not ask: ‘ Poor soul, what aileth thee?’ Let her
keep that green pillow; for fifteen years she has
slept on no other.” And Grandmother took the rye
brush, sprinkled Victorka from head to feet three
times, made the sign of the cross over her, bade the
children do likewise, and then without a werd all
left the garden house.

Behind Riesenburg, in a romantic little valley
where stands the chapel that the Lord of Turyn
built out of gratitude for the recovery of his deaf
daughter, is a graveyard; there they buried Vic-
torka. Upon her grave the gamekeeper planted a
fir tree. “ That is green both summer and winter,
and she always loved it,” said Grandmother, when
they spoke of it.

Victorka’s lullaby was heard no more by’ the
dam; the cave was empty, the fir above it cut down;
still she was by no means forgotten. For many
years her unhappy fate resounded through the
neighborhood in a sad song, composed by Bara of
Zernov.

The Countess kept Grandmother’s picture as
had been agreed, bringing her only that of the
children. The father and the mother were delighted,
but Grandmother’s joy knew no bounds. “The
Countess knew how to put a soul in those faces,”
she said, showing the picture to everybedy who
came into the house; and everybody agreed with
328 THE GRANDMOTHER.

her when she declared that they looked as if they
could open their lips and speak.

When years had passed and the children had
left home, Grandmother often said: “ Although it
is not the custom among the common people to
have their pictures painted, nevertheless it is a good
custom. For my part, I remember each face well;
but years will pass away, the memory will fade,
the image will grow dim, and then what a comfort
it will be when I can look at this picture.”

The last sheaves were taken in from the mano-
rial fields. Since the Princess was anxious to hasten
her departure to Italy, the steward ordered that the
harvest festival should be held at the end of the
wheat harvest.

Christina was the most beautiful maiden in the
whole neighborhood, and therefore everybody was
pleased that Grandmother selected her to present
the harvest wreath to the Princess.

There was a large open place behind the castle
covered partly with grass and partly with straw
stacks. In the middle of this space, the young
men set up along pole decorated with red hand-
kerchiefs, ribbons, evergreens, wild flowers, and
ears of grain. Benches were put around the straw
stacks, booths were built of evergreens, and the
ground was trampled down to make a dancing
floor.

“Grandmother, Grandmother,” said Christina,
‘you have fed me on hope, I lived on your words,
sent armfuls of comfort to Jacob; and behold! the
harvest festival is here, and still we know not what
to expect. Tell me, dearest Grandma, was it only
the apples of promise that you showed us, to keep
THE GRANDMOTHER. 329

up our hearts until we should become reconciled to
our lot?”

“My dear girl, it would have been very unwise
to comfort you in that way. I meant what I said.
To-morrow put on your best, the Princess will be
pleased. IfI am alive and well I shall be there,
too, and then if you ask me,I will tell you all,”
replied Grandmother, while her face beamed with
a hidden joy.

She knew well what had been done for Milo,
and had she not promised the Princess to be silent,
she would not have delayed a moment to remove
all anxiety from Christina’s mind.

The next day all the socagers, together with the
young people from the manor, dressed up in their
holiday attire, gathered together in one of the
fields to celebrate the harvest festival. A wagon was
partially loaded with sheaves; the horses, upon one
of which was mounted the driver, were trimmed
with gay streamers. Christina with several other
girls took their places upon the top of the sheaves,
while the others, old and young, ranged themselves
in couples about the wagon. The reapers carried
scythes and sickles, the women sickles and rakes; ,
each one had a harvest bouquet in her corsage, and
the young men had their hats trimmed with corn
flowers and other field blossoms.

The driver cracked his whip, the horses started,
the reapers sang and the procession moved to the
castle. As soon as they reached it, the girls dis-
mounted, Christina placed the wreath upon a red
kerchief, and the young people, ranging themselves
in couples behind her, began to sing, and thus the
procession entered the hall. The Princess entered
330 THE GRANDMOTHER.

at the same time from the opposite direction. Chris-
tina, trembling, blushing, and with downcast eyes,
stammered through the recitation, wishing their
mistress a successful and abundant harvest and rich
crops for the coming year. She then laid the har-
vest wreath atthe feet of the Princess. The reapers
waved their hats and shouted long life and health
to their mistress. She thanked them and referred
them for food and drink to the steward. Then
turning to Christina, she said: “To you, my dear
girl, I am especially grateful for the beautiful
wreath and wish that you have given me; I see
that all the rest are in couples, but you are still
alone; perhaps I shall please you best if I furnish
you with a partner!”

She smiled, opened the parlor door, and there
stood Milo,— and dressed in a peasant’s garb!

“Holy Virgin! Jacob!” exclaimed Christina,
and would have fallen down, overcome with sur-
prise and joy, had not one of the company caught
her.

The Princess quietly left the hall. “Come,
come,” cried Milo, “the Princess doesn’t want any
thanks,” and when they were outside he raised a
full purse saying: “ The Countess gave me this to
distribute among you. Here, comrade, take it and
distribute it yourself!” he added giving the purse to
Tomesh, who like the rest was staring at Milo,
unable to say a single word. When they were out
of the castle they raised a wild shout. Milo em-
braced his loved one fervently and then told the
company that all gratitude for his deliverance was
due to the Princess.
THE GRANDMOTHER. 331

“ And to Grandma,” added Christina, “if we did
not have her, we should have nothing.”

All went.to the dance. The officers of the
castle, together with their families, mingled among
the reapers, and so did Proshek’s family, the mil-
ler’s and the gamekeeper’s; but Grandmother was
the first. Joy at the meeting of two persons who
were so dear to her urged her to go. Christina
and Milo could hardly refrain from embracing her.

“Do not thank me;I spoke but a word, the
Princess helped me, and God gave his blessing.”

«“ But, Grandmother,” said Christina, shaking
her finger at her, “ You knew yesterday that Jacob
had come and that he was hidden at Vaclav’s, and
you wouldn’t say a word.”

“ Because I was not at liberty todoso. Besides,
you should have trusted me when I promised that
you should see each other soon. Remember, my
child, that all things come round to those who will
but wait in patience.”

Around the decorated pole the air resounded
with music, laughter, and song. The attendants.
from the castle danced with peasant maidens, and
their daughters were not ashamed to step into the
circle with peasant youths, both being well pleased
with their partners. The spirits of all became so
excited by the abundance of beer, the sweet mixed
drinks, and the dance, that when the Princess
came with the Countess to look at them, and the
young people went through a national dance, their
joy reached the highest pitch, all restraint ceased,
caps flew into the air, and shouts were heard of
«“ Long live our gracious Princess!” and cup after
cup was drained to her health. The ladies were
332 THE GRANDMOTHER.

much pleased and had a kind word for every one.
When Christina came to kiss the hand of the
Countess, that young lady congratulated her; she
spoke to the miller and the gamekeeper, and then
turned with loving familiarity to Grandmother, at
which the stewardess and her daughter turned
yellow with envy; they could not endure Grand-
mother,— she brought to naught all their plans.
But when the fathers seated at the table,
with their heads quite full, began to rail at
the secretaries and the steward, and when one of
them seized the beaker to pass a drink to the
Princess, and was only restrained by Tomesh, that
lady suddenly disappeared.

Several days after the harvest festival she
started with the Countess, for Italy. Before their
departure the young lady delivered into Grand-
mother’s hands a beautiful garnet necklace, a wed-
ding present for Christina.

Grandmother was satisfied; everything had
turned out according to her wishes. But one thing
was still on her mind, and that was a letter to her
daughter, Johanna. Mrs. Proshek would have
attended to this, but then it would not have been
as Grandmother wanted it. One day she called
Barunka into her room, closed the door, and point-
ing to the table, upon which lay ready a sheet of
paper, pen and ink, she said: “ Be seated, Barunka,
I want you to write a letter to Aunt Johanna.”
Barunka sat down; Grandmother seated herself
beside her so as to overlook the work, and began
to dictate:

“ Praised be our Lord Jesus Christ!”

«“ But, Grandma,” said Barunka, “ We do not
THE GRANDMOTHER. 333

begin a letter that way; we must write at the top
‘ Dear Johanna.’ ”

“ Not so, my little girl; your great-grandfather
and your grandfather always wrote in that way,
and I never wrote to my children in any other way.”
Therefore begin:

¢ Praised be our Lord Jesus Christ! A thousand
times I greet and kiss you, dear daughter Johanna,
and let you know that I am, thank God, in good
health. My cough troubles me somewhat, but that
is no wonder, for soon I shall count my age by
eight crosses. It is a good age, dear daughter, and
one must feel thankful to God when one enjoys
with it such good health as I have; I hear well and
see well, I could still mend my clothes if Barunka
did not do it for me. As for my feet, they are still
quite spry. I hope that this letter will find you in
good health, and Dorothy, too. From your letter
I learned that Uncle is ill, but I hope that he will
recover soon. He is often ailing, and they say:
¢ Often unwell doesn’t bring the bell.’*

“You also write to me that you want to get
married, and you ask my consent. My dear
daughter, since you have already chosen according
to your heart, what can I say but this: May God
grant you happiness and bless you both; may you
live to the honor and glory of God, and be useful
to the world. Why should I object, when George
is a worthy man and you love him; it is not
I but you that will live with him. I had hoped,
indeed, that you would choose a Bohemian,— those
of the same nationality are best adapted to each
other,— but it was not your fate; I do not blame

* The funeral bell.
334 THE GRANDMOTHER.

you. We are all the children of one father, one
mother* nourishes and sustains us, and therefore
we should love each other, though we be not from
the same country. Give my greeting to George,
and when you have your business established and
nothing to hinder you, come and make us a visit.
The children already talk of your coming. May
God bless you and keep you in good health. I
bid you good-bye.”

Barunka read the letter through again, then they
folded it, sealed it, and Grandmother put it away in
the side drawer of her chest till she should go
to church, when she herself would take it to the
post office.

* A figurative expression for the earth.
CHAPTER XVII.

NE afternoon, several days before St. Kather-

ine’s, the young people were gathered at the
inn. The whole house, inside and outside, shone;
around the doors were garlands of evergreen, a
branch of greens was behind every picture upon
the wall, the curtains were white as snow, and the
floor was like chalk. The long basswood table
was covered with a white cloth, and upon it were
bunches of rosemary, white and red ribbons, and
around it blushing maids like roses and pinks.
They had come together to make the wedding
wreaths for Christina’s wedding. She sat behind
the table in the corner, the handsomest maid of
themall. She was excused from all household
duties, and placed under the charge of the spokes-
man and the wedding matron, which honorable
offices were filled, the first by Martin, the leader of
pilgrimages, and the second by Grandmother. She
cold not refuse this to Christina, although she
usually avoided such public duties. The miller’s
wife took the place of Christina’s mother, who, on
account of lameness in her feet, could not take
charge of the housekeeping. Cilka and her mother
helped. Grandmother sat among the girls, and
although she had nothing to do, her advice was
constantly needed. The bride was fastening long
pieces of ribbon upon beautiful sprays of rosemary
for the bridesman and the spokesman. The

335
336 THE GRANDMOTHER.

younger bridesmaid was to weave the wreath for
the bride, the older the one for the groom; the
others, one apiece for their partners. The rose-
mary that was left was made into wedding favors
for all the guests. Even the horses that were to
take the bride to church had their harness trimmed
with ribbons and rosemary. The eyes of the bride
beamed with joy and love, whenever she glanced at
the stalwart form of the groom. He was standing
among his friends, each of whom had more liberty
to speak with his own love than he had to address
his bride, upon whom he could only cast a longing
glance. The bridesman waited upon the bride, and
the groom was obliged to give his attention to the
first bridesmaid. Every one, except the bride and
groom, had full liberty to be gay, to joke, to make
witty remarks; the last, however, was expected of
the spokesman especially. Christina spoke but
little; with downcast eyes she sat behind the rose-
mary-covered table. When the younger and older
bridesmaids began to weave the wreaths, and all
joined in singing:
“ Where, white dove, hast thou flown,
Aye flown, a

That thy snow-white plumage is soiled,
Is soiled?’

the bride covered her face with her white apron and
wept.

The groom looked at her anxiously and asked
the spokesman: “ Why does she weep?”

“You know, groom, that joy and grief are bed-
fellows, and thus it happens that the one often
wakes the other. Never mind. ‘To-day weeping,
to-morrow rejoicing.’”
THE GRANDMOTHER. 337

Here followed song after song, both gay and
sober; they sang the praises of youth, beauty, and
love, of the happiness of a bachelor’s life; but at
last the youths and maidens began to sing the joys:
of married life, when two hearts love each other
like two turtle-doves, when they live in harmony
like two grains of corn in one ear. They were,
however, constantly interrupted by the mocking
voice of the spokesman. When they sang of mar-
riage, harmony, and concord, he announced a solo
by himself, saying that he would sing them a brand-
new song.

«“ Then crow, to show what you know,” cried
the company.

The spokesman took his stand in the middle of
the room and began in a mocking tone, which was
as natural to him at a wedding as the serious one
was at a pilgrimage:

_ “Oh, wedded bliss!
There’s naught so delightful as this.
If I bid her cook pease,
She'll only cook barley,
If I ask her for meat
For pastry she’ll parley.
Oh, wedded bliss!
There’s naught so delightful as this.”

« Both the song and the singer are not worth a
broken penny!” cried the girls, and immediately
began to sing so as to spoil the pleasure of the
young men who wanted to hear the rest of the
song. With constant singing and joking the bou-
quets and wreaths were finished; then the girls
arose, joined hands, and, dancing around the table,
sang:

22
338 THE GRANDMOTHER.

“ All is now finished,
The prize is won;

The kolaches are baked
The garlands are done.”

At this point the door flew open, and the
miller’s wife, with several other women, came
hurrying in with their hands full of food, the
miller and the bridesman bringing the drinks. The
company sat down again to the table, which was
now covered with various dishes instead of rose-
mary. The groomsmen sat next to the bridesmaids,
the groom between the first bridesmaid and the
wedding matron, the bride between the younger
bridesmaid and the bridesman. The spokesman
went around the table, allowing the bridesmaids to
feed him, and at times to rate him soundly; for
this privilege, however, they were obliged to
receive every jest in good humor, though some-
times it was quite pointed. When the table was
cleared, the spokesman brought in three dishes as
presents for the bride. In the first was wheat,
which he gave her with the wish that she should
be fruitful; in the second, ashes mixed with leek
seeds, which she was obliged to pick out to show
her patience; the third dish was the one with the
“secret” in it, and was covered up. The bride
was expected to receive this dish without looking
into it. But how could she endure that? When
no one observed her, she carefully raised the corner
of the cloth that covered it, and f-r-r-r—the spar-
row hidden there flew up to the ceiling.

“You see, dear bride,” said Grandmother, giving
her a tap upon the shoulder, “that is what hap-
pens to the inquisitive. Some persons would rather
THE GRANDMOTHER. 339

die than not try to find out what is hidden from
them, and when the cover is raised, they catch
nothing after all.”

The young people remained together till late at
night, for dancing followed the feasting. The groom
and the bridesman escorted the wedding matron
home, reminding her at parting, that they were to
meet early the next morning.

The whole neighborhood of Zernov was up
early the next day. Some were to accompany the
bride to church, some only to attend the wedding
at the house, and those who were not invited could
not overcome their curiosity to see the procession
about which everybody had talked for several
weeks. It was to be so grand; the bride was to ride
in a carriage drawn by horses from the manor; she
was to wear a costly garnet necklace, a white em-
broidered apron, a rose-colored taffety jacket, and
a sky-blue skirt; the Zernov gossips knew all this,
probably before Christina herself had thought of
it. They knew all the details as to the quantity and
kinds of food that would be prepared for the wed-
ding feast, and in what order the guests were to
come to the table; what kind of furniture the bride
was to have for her outfit, how many feather beds
and how many pieces of underwear. They knew
all as well as if she had given them a written state-
ment of it. Not to go tolook at such a wedding, not
to see how becoming the wreath was to the bride,
how much she wept, how the guests were dressed,
would have been so great a negligence that it could
never be pardoned. This was an epoch in the his-
tory of Zernov, this furnished material for conver-
340 THE GRANDMOTHER.

sation for at least half a year. How, then, could
they miss it?

When the gests from The Old Bleachery and
the mill came to the inn, they were obliged to push
their way through a large crowd of people that
had assembled in the yard. The guests on the
bride’s side had already arrived. The miller was
dressed in his best, his boots shone like a mirror,
and to-day he held a silver snuff box. He was the
bride’s witness. The miller’s wife was dressed in
silk; beneath her double chin glistened strings of
pearls, and upon her head was a golden cap. Grand-
mother also had on her wedding dress, and a Sun-
day cap with the dove knots. The bridesmaids,
the groomsmen and the spokesman were not at the
inn; they had gone to Zernov to fetch the groom.
The bride also was not to be seen; she was hidden
in her chamber.

Suddenly a great commotion was heard in the
yard: “They’re coming, they’re coming!” and
from the mill were heard the sounds of the violin,
flute, and clarionet. They were bringing the groom.
The spectators whispered: “Look, look! Milo’s
sister is the younger bridesmaid, and Tichanek’s
daughter the elder one. There is no doubt that if
Tomesh’s wife were still single, she would have
filled that place.”

“ Tomesh is the groom’s witness!”

«And where is his wife? She is nowhere to be
seen.”

«She is helping the bride to dress.”

“And see! there comes the squire, too; what a
wonder that they invited him, for he alone was to
blame for Milo’s conscription!”
THE GRANDMOTHER, 341

Everybody marveled.

“The squire himself is not so bad; Lucie made
him start the fire, and the steward added fuel. No
wonder that he acted as he did. Milo did well to
invite him; that was the best punishment he could
mete out to him, and especially to Lucie. She will
turn yellow with envy.”

“© Why she is betrothed,” said another.

“ How can that be?” exclaimed a third, “ I have
not heard of it.”

“It took place only day before yesterday, —
with Joseph Nitlovitz.”

“‘ He had been waiting upon her a long time.”

“Yes indeed, but she would not have him as
long as she had any hope of getting Jacob Milo.”

“ What a beautiful handkerchief the groom has,
it must have cost the bride no less than ten guild-
ers!” said some of the women. “ What a dashing
figure he cuts. His like is not seen every day!”

These and similar remarks were made by the
lookers-on while the groom was approaching the
house; he was greeted at the door by the innkeeper
with a full beaker. The groom went at once to
look for the bride, and found her, as was expected,
weeping in her chamber., He led her into the room
where the parents of both were waiting for them, to
give them the blessing. They knelt before them,
and the spokesman began his speech, as is the cus-
tom on such occasions; he spoke long in behalf of
the couple, thanking the parents for all they had
done for their children and asking their benediction.
Everybody in the room was moved to tears. The
blessing having been given, the company prepared
to start for church. Christina was led between the
342 THE GRANDMOTHER.

bridesman and the first bridesmaid; then came
Milo with the second bridesmaid; they were fol-
lowed by the others arranged in couples, except the
spokesman, who went at the head of the procession.
When they entered the carriages and wagons which
were waiting for them, the girls waved their hand-
kerchiefs and sang, being soon joined by the young
men; but the bride wept silently, at times casting
a wistful glance upon the second carriage, where
the groom rode with the witnesses and the matron.

The spectators scattered to their respective
homes, and for a while the inn was empty, save
that at one window sat the old mother watching
the procession and praying for her child, who for
so many years had filled her place, and endured all
her moods with gentle patience, attributing them
to her long and severe illness. Soon the women
came to arrange the tables. Wherever one turned,
a cook or one of her assistants was to be seen.

The young Mrs. Tomesh had charge of every-
thing. She assumed the responsibility gladly, as
the miller’s wife had done the day before at the
weaving of the wreaths.

When the wedding party returned from church,
the innkeeper, as before, met them at the door with
a full beaker. The bride changed her dress and
they went todinner. The bride and bridegroom
sat at the head of the table; the bridesman waited
upon the bridesmaids, who laid aside a part of their
viands for him and from time to time passed to him
the nicest bits from their plates. The spokesman
declared he fared “like God in Paradise.” Grand-
mother, too, was gay, and with many a witty
remark answered the spokesman, whose ears were
THE GRANDMOTHER. 343

everywhere and whose large, angular person was in
everybody’s way. At home she would not have
allowed a single pea to be thrown upon the floor,
but when the guests began to throw handfuls of
peas and wheat at each other, she herself threw
some at the groom and bride, saying: “May God
so shower his blessings upon you.” But the peas
and wheat were not trampled upon; Grandmother
had noticed how the tame pigeons were picking up
everything from the floor.

Dinner was over; many a heavy head swayed
from side to side; each one had before him a gen-
erous allowance of food to take home, and if he
was not able to take care of this himself, Mrs.
Tomesh saw to it that he fared no worse than the
rest. It would have been considered a disgrace to
come home from a wedding empty handed. There
was an abundance of everything, so that whoever
went past the inn got as much to eat and drink as
he wished; and the village children who came
“hanging about ” got their aprons full of buns and
kolaches. After dinner they gave the bride money
“ for the cradle,” and she was not a little astonished to
see silver pieces falling into her apron. The grooms-
men brought bowls of water and towels to the
bridesmaids to wash their hands, for which service
they were expected to throw a piece of money into
the water. As each girl wished to be thought
liberal, nothing but silver gleamed at the bottom of
the dishes; this was spent the next day by the
young men in dancing and drinking with their
partners.

The bride and bridesmaids went to change their
dresses again, for the dancing was now to begin.
344 THE GRANDMOTHER.

Grandmother embraced this opportunity to take the
children home; they had been feasting in Christina’s
room. She herself was obliged to return, because
later in the evening would occur the unwreathing of
the bride, at which ceremony the presence of the
wedding matron was indispensable. She also
brought the cap which, with the help of Mrs.
Proshek, she had selected and bought for the bride.
This was.also one of the duties of the matron.
When all had danced as much as they liked, and
the bride was almost breathless from the exercise,—
every one wanted to dance with her, even if he
took but one turn,— Grandmother beckoned to the
women and whispered that it was after midnight, and
that now the bride “ belonged to the wives.” They
began to quarrel about her, the groom and the
bridesman refusing to give her up to be deprived
of her beautiful wreath; but it was of no use. The
women got possession of her and led her off to her
chamber. The girls stood behind the door sing-
ing to her in a sad voice, not to let them take away
her green wreath, for once laid aside she would
never find it again.

All in vain! The bride was seated upon a
stool, Mrs. Tomesh unbraided her hair, the floral
coronet and the green wreath were laid aside, and
Grandmother replaced them with a cap, having long
strings. The bride wept constantly; but the women
sang and shouted, and only Grandmother remained
serious, though sometimes a smile passed over her
face and her eye grew moist as she thought of her
daughter Johanna, who also celebrated her wedding
at this time.

The bride’s cap was quite becoming to her, and
THE GRANDMOTHER. 345

the miller’s wife declared that she looked like a
*‘ Meissen-apple ” in it.

“ Now to the groom! Which one of you will
go to tease him?” asked Grandmother.

“ The oldest,” said the miller’s wife.

“ Wait, I'll bring him one,” quickly cried Mrs.
Tomesh. She ran out and brought the old wash-
erwoman, who was helping in the kitchen. They
threw a shawl over head, and the wedding matron
took her by the arm and led her out to the groom
to see if he would “buy her.” The groom walked
about her and examined her till he had an oppor-
tunity to raise the shawl; underneath he saw an old
wrinkled face soiled with ashes. All laughed. The
groom did not want to claim such a bride, so the
matron hurried with her out of the room. A
second one was brought out. Both the groom and
the spokesman thought she looked morelike a bride;
at first they thought they would buy her, but the
spokesman said: “Indeed, we won’t buy a hare in
a bag!” he raised the shawl and they saw the fat
face of the miller’s wife, whose small black eyes
laughed mischievously.

“Buy her, buy her; J’ll sell her cheap!” laughed
the miller, turning his snuff box in his fingers, but
slowly, either because it was heavy or his fingers
were stiff.

«“ Hush, hush, Father,” laughed his wife, “ to-
day you would sell, to-morrow you’d be glad to
buy back.”

The third was the tall, slender form of the bride.
The spokesman offered an old kreutzer for her, but
the groom emptied the silver from his purse and
won her. The women came rushing into the
346 THE GRANDMOTHER.

room, joined hands, put the groom in the circle, and
sang:
“All is now finished,
The unwreathing is done;
The kolaches are eaten,
The bride is won.”

The bride now belonged to the groom. The
money which the women received for her was spent
the next day in feasting, when they came “to
make the bed,” at which ceremony there was again
much singing and joking. The spokesman declared
that a well-ordered wedding ought to last eight
days, and this was usually the case with grand
weddings. The weaving of the wreaths before
the wedding, the wedding itself, the making of the
bed, the reunion at the home of the bride’s parents,
a second reunion at the groom’s house, the meeting
at the inn of all the young friends: thus the whole
week was spent before the newly married couple
had any rest, before they could say: “* Now we are
alone.”

A few weeks after Christina’s wedding, Mrs.
Proshek received a letter from the first chamber-
maid, who wrote that Countess Hortense was to
celebrate her marriage with a certain artist, her
former teacher, that she was perfectly happy, that
she was again like a rose,and that the Princess re-
joiced at her happiness.

Grandmother hearing this good news, nodded
her head saying: “ Thank God; all has turned out
well.”

* * * * * * *

It is not the purpose of this little book to describe

the life of the young people that grew up around
THE GRANDMOTHER. 347

Grandmother; neither do I wish to weary the
reader by leading him from the gamekeeper’s to
the mill and back again, through the little plain in
which life was always the same. The young people
grew up; some remained at home, married, the old
people giving up their places to them, just as upon
the oak the old leaves fall away when the young
ones begin to bud. Some left this quiet region to
seek their fortune elsewhere, like seeds which are
blown away by the wind, or carried far away by
the waters, that upon new shores they may find
better soil in which to strike their roots and grow.

Grandmother never left the place where she had
found a second home. With a quiet, happy heart
she saw how everything about her prospered; she
rejoiced at her neighbor’s good fortune, she com-
forted the sorrowing, she helped, when it was
possible for her to do so, and when, one after
another, her grandchildren left home, she followed
them with tearful eyes, and with the wistful sigh:
“God grant that we may meet again.” And they
did meet again. Year after year they returned to
visit their home, and Grandmother’s eyes brightened
as she listened to the descriptions which the young
men gave of the great world; she encouraged their
brilliant plans for the future, she excused the short-
comings of youth, which they did not conceal from
her. They, on their part loved to listen to her advice,
even though they did not always follow it; they
honored her words and her virtuous life. The grown
up girls made Grandmother their confidant. She
knew all their secrets, their dreams, their hopes and
fears; for with her they were always sure of sym-
pathy and love. Thus Manchinka from the mill
348 THE GRANDMOTHER.

sought refuge with Grandmother when her father
forbade her to love a poor but handsome youth.
Grandmother knew how to “set the father’s head
upon the proper handle,” as the miller himself
declared; and when in after years his daughter was
happy and the business, under the management of
an industrious and enterprising son-in-law, pros-
pered, the miller would say: “ Grandmother was
right; God follows the poor with his blessing.”

The children of the young women loved Grand-
mother as if they were her own grandchildren; they
knew her by no other name than Grandma. When,
two years after Christina’s wedding, the Princess
returned to the castle, she sent at once for Grand-
mother and showed her a beautiful boy, the son of
the Countess, who, a year after her marriage, had
died, leaving the bereaved husband and the Princess
this child. Grandmother took it in her arms, and
her tears fell upon its silken robe as she thought of
the young, good, and beautiful mother; but laying
it again in the arms of the Princess, she said in a
low tone: “Let us not weep. She is in heaven; the
world was not for her. God loves those the most
whom he calls away when they are the happiest,
and your Grace is not left desolate.

People did not know how Grandmother was
failing; she alone felt it. She would often say to
Adelka, pointing to an old apple tree that year by
year grew dryer and put on its green foliage more
sparingly: “ We are alike; we shall probably go to
sleep together.” One spring, when all the other
trees were clad in their green livery, the old apple
tree stood there alone, without a single leaf. It was
dug up and used for fuel. The same spring, Grand-
THE GRANDMOTHER. 349

mother coughed severely; she could no longer walk
to the village to *“*God’s dear church.” Her hands
withered more and more, her hair was like snow,
her voice grew weaker and weaker.

One day, Mrs. Proshek sent letters in all direc-
tions urging the children to come home. Grand-
mother had taken to her bed, she could no longer
hold the spindle. From the gamekeeper’s, from
the mill, from the village, messengers came several
times a day to ask how Grandmother was; she was
no better. Adelka often prayed with her; she was
obliged to tell her every morning, every evening,
how the trees were growing in the orchard, how
the vegetables were thriving in the garden, how
the poultry was doing, how Spotty was; she had to
reckon in how many days Mr. Beyer would prob-
ably be with them. “Perhaps John will come
with him,” Grandmother would add. Her memory
began to fail. She often called Barunka instead of
Adelka, and when the latter reminded her that
Barunka was not at home, recollecting herself she
would say, sighing deeply: ‘“ No, no, she is not at
home, I shall not see her again. Is she happy?”
And yet she saw them all again.

Mr. Proshek came, and with him Willie and
Johanna; her son Caspar came, and from the Rie-
sengebirge mountains came Mr. Beyer, bringing with
him his sturdy apprentice, John; Orel came from
the school of forestry, where the Princess, discover-
ing his talents, had placed him. Grandmother
counted him, too, among her grandchildren, for she
had observed the growing attachment between him
and Adelka, and approved of it, knowing his noble-
ness of character. All gathered around Grand-
350 THE GRANDMOTHER.

mother’s bed. The first of all was Barunka,
came with the nightingale. He came back to hi
by Grandmother’s window, and Barunka foun
old place in Grandmother’sroom. There her bec
to stand, there she used to listen to the music ¢
sweet singer, there, rising up and lying down, G
mother used to bless her. They were tog
again; the same voices were heard around °
these were the same stars upon which the
gazed together, the same hands rested upon B
ka’s head. It was the same head, but difi
thoughts crowded in it, and the tears which G
mother saw rolling down the cheeks of her be
grandchild were different from the tears of |
hood, which a pleasant smile dried from the
cheeks, when, as yet a little girl, she slept ii
little bed in Grandmother’s room. Those
bedewed, but did not dim the eyes.
Grandmother knew she had not many da
live; therefore, like a good housewife, she se
house in order. First she made her peace with
then she distributed her little property. Eac
received a keepsake. For all who came to se
she had a kind word, and when they left, her
followed them till they were out of sight.
the Princess, with the son of Hortense, came:
her, and when they were leaving, she looked
after them; for she knew she should never see
again. Even those dumb brutes, the cats and
were not forgotten. She called them to her
caressed them and allowed Sultan to lick her |
* See to them,” she said to Adelka and the ser
THE GRANDMOTHER. 351

Vorsilka,*—I know my time is near at hand, for
I dreamed last night that George came for me, —
when I die do not forget to tell it to the bees, so
that they shall not die out! The others might for-
get.” Grandmother knew that Vorsa would do it;
for the others did not believe as she did and, there-
fore, might neglect to do it in time, even though
they were willing to fulfill all her wishes.

Towards evening of the day following the chil-
dren’s return, Grandmother was quietly passing
away. Barunka read to her the prayer of the dying,
she repeating the words after her. Suddenly the
lips ceased to move, the eye was fixed upon the
crucifix hanging over the bed, the breathing stop-
ped. The flame of life went out like a lamp in
which the oil has been consumed.

‘Barunka closed her eyes. Christina opened the
window “so that the soul might have freedom to
fly away.” Vorsa, not lingering among the weeping,
hastened to the hive which the miller had set up
for Grandmother some years before, and rapping
upon it called three times: “Bees, bees, our Grand-
mother is dead!” and then she sat down upon the
bench under the lilacs and sobbed aloud. The mil-
ler went to Zernov, to have the bell tolled. He
himself offered to do this service; he felt oppressed
in the house; he wanted to go outside so that he
could weep and ease his grief. “I missed Victorka;
how, then, can I forget Grandmother!” he said on
the way. When the tolling of the bell was heard,
announcing to the people that Grandmother was no
more, the whole neighborhood wept.

“ The third day, when the funeral procession,

* The diminutive of Vorsa.
352 THE GRANDMOTHER.

composed of a great company of people, was pass-
ing the castle,—for everyone who had known
Grandmother wanted to follow her to her last
resting place,—a white hand pushed aside the
heavy curtains, and the Princess appeared between
them. Her sad gaze followed the procession as
long as it was in sight, and then dropping the cur-
tains and sighing deeply, she whispered:
“Happy woman!”