RICO AND WISELI

RICO AND STINELIandHOW WISELI WAS PROVIDED FOR

BY

JOHANNA SPYRI

Translated By Louise Brooks

CONTENTS

RICO AND STINELI

CHAPTER

 I. IN THE QUIET HOUSE II. IN THE SCHOOL III. THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER'S FIDDLE IV. THE BEAUTIFUL, DISTANT LAKE WITHOUT A NAME V. A SAD HOUSE, BUT THE LAKE GETS A NAME VI. RICO'S MOTHER VII. A PRECIOUS LEGACY, AND A PRECIOUS PRAYER VIII. ON THE LAKE OF SILS IX. A PERPLEXING AFFAIR X. A LITTLE LIGHT XI. A LONG JOURNEY XII. IT STILLS GOES ON XIII. ON THE DISTANT, BEAUTIFUL LAKE XIV. NEW FRIENDSHIPS FORMED, WHILE THE OLD ONES ARE NOT FORGOTTEN XV. SILVIO'S WISHES PRODUCE RESULTS XVI. COUNSEL THAT BRINGS JOY TO MANY XVII. BACK AGAIN OVER THE MOUNTAINSXVIII. TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS XIX. CLOUDS ON THE BEAUTIFUL LAKE OF GARDA XX. AT HOME XXI. SUNSHINE ON THE LAKE OF GARDA

HOW WISELI WAS PROVIDED FOR

 I. COASTING II. AT HOME WHERE ALL ARE HAPPY III. ALSO AT HOME IV. AT COUSIN GOTTI'S V. HOW TIME WENT ONE, AND SUMMER CAME VI. OLD AND NEW VII. ANDREW IS BETTER, AND SOMEBODY ELSE, ALSO VIII. SOMETHING VERY STRANGE HAPPENS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"So the lad seated himself, and placed his fiddle in position. "

"Rico played correctly, and with enthusiasm. "

"Wiseli hastened into the room, and went to her mother's side. "

"Andrew raised himself in his bed to see who was there. "

RICO AND STINELI. 

CHAPTER I. 

IN THE QUIET HOUSE. 

In the Ober Engadin, on the highway up to Maloja, stands the lonelyvillage of Sils; and back towards the mountains, across the fields, nestles a little cluster of huts known as Sils Maria. Here, in an openfield, two cottages stand, facing each other. 

Noticeable in both are the old wooden house-doors, and the tiny windowsquite imbedded in the thick walls. A bit of a garden-plot belongs to oneof these poor dwellings, where the pot-herbs and the cabbages look onlya trifle better than their spindling companions the flowers. 

The other house has nothing but a little shed, where two or three hensmay be seen running in and out. This cottage is smaller than itsneighbor, and its wooden door is quite black from age. 

Out of this door every morning, at the same hour, came a large man. Inorder to pass out he was obliged to stoop, so tall was he. His hair wasblack and glossy, and his eyes were also black; and under hisfinely-shaped nose grew a thick black beard, completely hiding the lowerpart of his face; so that, except the glistening of his white teeth whenhe spoke, nothing was visible. But he rarely spoke. 

Everybody in Sils knew the man, but he was never called by his name, --itwas always "the Italian. " He went by the foot-path across to Sils everyday regularly, and thence up to Maloja. They were working on the highwayin that place, and there he found employment. 

When, however, he did not have work up there, he went down to the Bathsof St. Moritz. Houses were being built down there, and he found work inplenty; and there passed the day, only returning to his cottage atnightfall. 

When he came out of his house in the morning, he was usually followed bya little boy, who lingered on the threshold after his father had gone onhis way, and looked with his big black eyes for a long time in thedirection his father had taken; but where he was looking that no onecould have told, for his eyes had a faraway look, as if they saw nothingthat lay before them and near, but were searching for somethinginvisible to everybody. 

On Sunday mornings, when the sun shone brightly, father and son wouldsaunter up the road together; and the close resemblance between them wasmost striking, for the child was the man in miniature, only his face wassmall and pale, --with his father's well-formed nose, to be sure; but hismouth had an expression of great sadness, as if he could not laugh. Inhis father's face this could not be detected, on account of the beard. 

When they walked along together, side by side, they did not talk; butthe father usually hummed a tune softly, --sometimes quite aloud, --andthe lad listened attentively. On rainy Sundays they sat at the windowtogether in the cottage, and seldom talked then; but the man drew hisharmonica from his pocket, and played one tune after another to the lad, who listened most earnestly. Sometimes he would take a comb, or even aleaf, and coax forth music; or he would shape a bit of wood with hisknife, and whistle a tune upon that. It really seemed as if there wereno object from which he could not draw forth sweet sounds. Once, however, he brought a fiddle home with him, and the boy was so delightedwith the instrument, that he never forgot it. The man played one tuneafter another, while the child listened and looked with all his might;and when the fiddle was laid aside, the little fellow took it up, andtried to find out for himself how the music was made. And it could nothave sounded so very badly, for his father had smiled, saying, "Come, now!" and placed the big fingers of his left hand over his son's, andheld the little hand and the bow together in his right; and thus theyplayed for a long time, and produced a great many sweet tunes. 

On the following day, after his father's departure, the boy tried againand again to play, until at last he did succeed in producing a tunequite correctly. Soon after, however, the fiddle disappeared, and nevermade its appearance again. 

Often, when they were together, the man would begin to singsoftly, --softly at first, then more and more distinctly as he becamemore interested, and the boy know the words, he could at least followthe tune. The father sang Italian always; and the child understood agreat deal, but not well enough to sing. One tune, however, he knewbetter than any other, for his father had repeated it many hundredtimes. It was part of a long song, and began in this wise:--

 "One evening In Peschiera. "

It was a sad melody that some one had arranged to a pretty ballad, andit particularly pleased the lad, so that he always sang it with pleasureand with a feeling of awe; and it sounded very sweetly, for the lad hada clear, bell-like voice, that harmonized beautifully with his father'sstrong basso. And each time after they had sung this song from beginningto end, his father clapped the boy kindly on the shoulder, saying, "Welldone, Henrico! well done!" This was the way his father called him, buthe was called "Rico" only by everybody else. 

There was a cousin who lived in the cottage with them, and who mendedand cooked and kept the house in order. In the winter she sat by thestove and spun, and Rico had to consider how he could enter the room, very carefully; for as soon as he had opened the door, his cousin calledout, "Do let that door alone, or we shall have it cold enough in theroom here. "

In winter he was very often alone with his cousin; for when his fatherhad work to do in the valley, he would be away for long weeks at a time. 

CHAPTER II. 

IN THE SCHOOL. 

Rico was almost nine years old, and had been to school for two winters. Up there in the mountains there was no school in the summer-time; forthen the teacher had his field to cultivate, and his hay and wood tocut, like everybody else, and nobody had time to think of going toschool. This was not a great sorrow for Rico, --he knew how to amusehimself. When he had once taken his place in the morning on thethreshold, he would stand there for hours without moving, gazing intothe far distance with dreamy eyes, if the door of the house over theway did not open, and a little girl make her appearance and look overat him laughingly. Then Rico ran over to her in a trice, and thechildren were busy enough in telling each other what had happened sincethe evening before, and talked incessantly, until Stineli was calledinto the house. The girl's name was Stineli, and she and Rico were ofexactly the same age. They began to go to school at the same time, werein the same classes, and from that time forward were always together;for there was only a narrow path between their cottages, and they werethe dearest of friends. 

This was the only intimacy that Rico had, for he had no pleasure inthe companionship of the other boys; and when they thrashed eachother, or played at wrestling, or turned somersaults, he went awaywithout even looking back at them. If they called out after him, "Nowit is Rico's turn to be thrashed, " he stood perfectly still and didnothing; but he looked at them so strangely with his dark eyes, thatno one meddled with him. 

In Stineli's company he was always contented. She had a merry littlepug-nose, and two brown eyes that were always laughing; and around herhead were two thick braids of brown hair, that always looked smooth andneat, for Stineli was a very orderly girl, and knew very well how totake care of herself. For that her daily experience was excellent. It istrue Stineli was scarcely nine years old, but she was the eldestdaughter of the family, and had to help her mother in every thing, andthere was a great deal to be done, --for after Stineli came Trudi andSami and Peterli, then Urschli and Anne-Deteli and Kunzli, and last ofall the baby, who was not baptized. From every corner, at every moment, Stineli was called for; and she had become so handy and skilful with allthis practice, that work seemed to turn itself out of her hands of itsown accord. She could always put on three stockings and fasten two shoesbefore Trudi had even placed the legs of the little one she was helpingin the right position. And while her mother was calling for Stineli tohelp her in the kitchen, and the little children wanted her in thebedroom, her father was sure to shout out from the stable for Stineli tocome to his help, for he had mislaid his cap, or his whip-lash was in aknot, and she found the one in a trice, --it was generally on themeal-box, --and her limber fingers had no trouble in untying the knottedlash. So, you see, Stineli was always busy running about and working, but always merry with it all, and rejoiced also in winter, when theschool began. Then she went with Rico to school and back again, and inrecess they were also together. And in summer she was still more happy, for then the lovely Sunday evenings came when she could go out; and sheand Rico went, hand in hand, --the lad was always waiting for her in thedoorway, --over the big meadow towards the wood on the hill-side thatprojected far out over the lake like an island. They used to sit upthere under the pines, and look out over the green waters of the lake, and had so many questions to ask and so many answers to give, and wereso happy, that Stineli was happy all the week in thinking it over andlooking forward, --for Sunday always came again. 

There was yet one other person in the household who called for Stinelinow and then, --that was her old grandmother. 

She did not want her assistance, however, but had generally a bit ofmoney to give her that she had put aside, or some little thing thatwould give the girl pleasure; for the grandmother noticed how much therewas for Stineli to do, and that she had less pleasure than otherchildren of her age, and the child was her favorite. She always hadsomething ready so that she could buy herself a red ribbon at the yearlymarket, or a needle-case, if she wished. 

Rico was also a favorite with this good grandmother, and she liked tosee the children together, and tried to contrive a little recreation forthem now and then. 

On summer evenings the grandmother always sat by the door on atree-stump that was there, and often Stineli and Rico stood by her sidewhile she told them stories. But when the prayer-bell sounded from thelittle church tower she always said, "Now say, 'Our Father;' and besure, children, that you never forget to say that prayer every evening;the prayer-bells ring to remind you of that. " "Now remember, littleones, " she would now and then repeat, "I have lived for a long, longtime, and had a great deal of experience, and I have never known asingle person who has not, at some time or other in his life, sore needof 'Our Father;' but I have known many a one who has sought to say itanxiously, and not found it, in his great need. " So Stineli and Ricostood reverently side by side and said their evening prayer. 

Now May had come, and there was only a short time to pass before schoolwould cease, for under the trees there were signs of green, and the snowhad melted and vanished in many places. Rico had been standing for along time in the doorway making these welcome observations. At the sametime he looked again and again towards the opposite door, hoping that itwould open. It did at last, and out came Stineli. 

"How long have you been standing there?" she called out merrily. "It isearly to-day, and we can go along slowly. "

They took each other's hands, and went towards the schoolhouse. 

"Are you always thinking about the lake?" asked Stineli as theywent along. 

"Yes, of course, " said Rico, with a serious expression; "and I oftendream about it too, and see great red flowers there, and in the distancethe purple mountains. "

"Oh! what one dreams does not count, " said Stineli. "I dreamed once thatPeterli climbed, all alone, to the top of the highest pine-tree; andwhen he was on the top twig, suddenly he changed into a bird and calledout, 'Come, Stineli, and put on my stockings for me. ' So you see that itdoes not mean any thing when you dream. "

Rico pondered over this, for his dream might certainly mean something, and yet only be thoughts passing through his mind. Now, however, theywere near the schoolhouse, and a troop of noisy children came towardsthem from the opposite direction. They all entered together, and soonthe teacher came in. He was an old man with thin, gray hair, for he hadbeen teacher for an incredibly long time, --so long, that his hair hadgrown gray and fallen out. 

Now a busy spelling and pronouncing began; then followed themultiplication-table, and, lastly, the singing. For this the teacherbrought out his old fiddle and tuned it. Then they began, and allshouted at the top of their lungs, --

 "Little lambkins, come down From the bright sunny height, "

and the teacher played the accompaniment. 

Rico, however, had his eyes fixed so attentively upon the fiddle, and onthe teacher's fingers as he touched the strings, that he quite forgotthe song; and at this the whole choir lost their pitch, and fell away ahalf-note, and the fiddle became uncertain, and lost a half-note also;and then the voices fell lower still, until at last nobody could havetold where they were going to all together; but the teacher tossed hisfiddle upon the table and called out angrily, "What sort of a song doyou call that? You are nothing but a lot of screamers! I should like toknow who it is who sings false and spoils the whole time. "

At this a little boy spoke up, --the one who sat nearest to Rico: "I knowwhy it all goes wrong. It always goes that way when Rico stops singing. "

The teacher himself knew that the fiddle was somewhat dependent onRico's leading. 

"Rico, Rico! what is this that I hear?" he said, turning to the lad. "You are generally a well-behaved boy; but inattention is a sad fault, as you now see. One single careless scholar can easily spoil a wholesong. Now we will begin anew; and be more attentive, Rico. "

After this the boy sang with his steady, clear voice; the fiddlefollowed, and the children sang with all their might, and it went onvery satisfactorily to the very end. 

The teacher was well satisfied, and rubbed his hands together, and thendrew his bow over the string, saying, with a pleased air, "It is a goodinstrument, after all. "

CHAPTER III. 

THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER'S FIDDLE. 

Stineli and Rico freed themselves from the crowd of children gatheredbefore the schoolhouse, and wandered off together. "Were you thinking sothat you could not sing with us to-day, Rico?" asked Stineli. "Were youthinking again about the lake?"

"No, it was quite another thing, " replied the boy. "I know how to play'Little lambkins, come down, ' if I only had a fiddle. "

Judging from the deep sigh that accompanied these words, the wish musthave weighed heavily on Rico's heart. The sympathetic little Stinelibegan at once to contrive some means of helping him to get his wish. 

"We will buy one together, Rico, " she said suddenly, full of delight ata happy thought that had entered her head. I have ever so many pieces ofmoney, --as many as twelve. How much have you got?"

"None at all, " said the boy sadly. "My father gave me some before hewent away, but my cousin said I should only spend it foolishly, andshe took it from me, and put it up on the shelf in a box where Icannot get it. "

Such a trifle did not discourage Stineli. "Perhaps we have enoughwithout that, and my grandmother will give me some more soon, " she saidconsolingly. "You know, Rico, a fiddle can't cost so very much; it isnothing but a bit of old wood with four strings stretched across it, that will be cheap, I'm sure. You must ask the teacher about itto-morrow morning, and then we will try to find one. "

So it was settled, and Stineli resolved to do all she could at home tomake herself useful by getting up bright and early, and making the firebefore her mother was afoot, thinking that, if she worked busily frommorning till night, perhaps her grandmother would put a bit of money forher in the bag. 

After school the next day Stineli went out and waited alone behind thewood-pile at the schoolhouse corner, for Rico had made up his mind atlast to ask the teacher how much it would cost to buy a fiddle. He wassuch a long time about it, that Stineli kept peeping out from behind thewood-pile, quite overcome with impatience, but only saw the other schoolchildren who were standing about and playing; but now certainly, --yes, that was Rico who came around the corner. 

"What did he say? How much does it cost?" cried Stineli, almostbreathless with suspense. 

"I had not the courage to ask, " was the sad answer. 

"Oh, what a shame!" said the girl, and stood still and disappointed fora moment, but not more. "Never mind, Rico; you can try again to-morrow, "she said cheerfully, taking him by the hand and turning homeward. "I gotanother bit of money from my grandmother this morning, because I got upearly and was in the kitchen when she came in. "

The same thing happened, however, the next day and the day after. Ricostood for half an hour before the door without getting courage to go into ask his question. At last Stineli made up her mind to go herself, ifthis lasted three days more. On the fourth day, however, as Rico wasstanding, timid and depressed, before the door, it opened suddenly, andthe teacher came out quickly, and ran into Rico with such force, thatthe slender little fellow, who did not weigh more than a feather, wasthrown backward several feet. The teacher stood looking at the child ingreat surprise and some displeasure. Then he said, "What does this mean, Rico? Why do you stand before the door without knocking, if you have amessage to deliver? If you have no message, why do you not go away? Ifyou wish to tell me any thing, do so at once. What is it that you wish?"

"How much does a fiddle cost?" Rico blurted out his question ingreat fear and haste. The teacher's surprise and displeasureincreased visibly. 

"I do not understand, Rico, " he said, with a severe glance at the boy. Have you come here on purpose to mock me? or have you any particularreason for asking this? What did you mean to say?"

"I did not mean any thing, " said Rico abashed, "only to ask how much itwould cost to buy a fiddle. "

"You did not understand me just now, --pay attention to what I am saying. There are two ways of asking a question: either to obtain information, or simply from idle curiosity, which is foolishness. Now pay attention, Rico: is this a mere idle question, or did somebody send you who wishesto buy a fiddle?"

"I want to buy one myself, " said the boy, taking courage a little;but he was frightened when the angry reply came, "What! what did yousay? A forlorn little fellow like you buy a fiddle! Do you even knowwhat the instrument is? Have you any idea of how old I was, and whatI knew, before I obtained one? I was a teacher, a regular teacher;was twenty-two years old, with an assured profession, and not achild like you. 

"Now I will tell you what a fiddle costs, and then you will see howfoolish you are. Six hard gulden I paid for mine. Can you realize whatthat means? We will separate it into blutsgers. If one gulden contains ahundred blutsgers, then six guldens will be equal to six times onehundred, --quickly, quickly! Now, Rico, you are generally ready enough. "

"Six hundred blutsgers, " said the lad softly, for he was quiteoverpowered with the magnitude of this sum as compared with Stineli'stwelve blutsgers. 

"And, moreover, my son, do you imagine that you have only to take afiddle in your hand to be able to play on it at once? It takes a longtime to do that. Come in here now, for a moment. " And the teacher openedthe door, and took his fiddle from its place on the wall. "There, " hesaid, as he placed it on Rico's arm, "take the bow in your hand, --so, myboy; and if you can play me _c, d, e, f_, I will give you ahalf-gulden. "

Rico had the fiddle really in his hand; his eyes sparkled with fire; _c, d, e, f, _--he played the notes firmly and perfectly correctly. "Youlittle rascal!" cried the astonished teacher, "where did you learn that?Who taught you? How do you find the notes?"

"I can do more than that, if I may, " said the boy. 

"Play, then. "

And Rico played correctly, and with enthusiasm, --

 "Little lambkins, come down From the bright sunny height; The daylight is fading, The sun says, 'Good-night!'"

[Illustration: RICO PLAYED CORRECTLY, AND WITH ENTHUSIASM]

The teacher sunk into a chair, and put his spectacles on his nose. Hiseyes rested on Rico's fingers as he played, then on his sparkling eyes, and again on his hands. When the air was finished, he said, "Come hereto me, Rico;" and, moving his chair into the light, he placed the laddirectly before him. "Now I have something to say to you. Your father isan Italian; and I know that down there all sorts of things go on ofwhich we have no idea here in the mountains. Now look me straight in theeye, and answer me truly and honestly. How did you learn to play thisair so correctly?"

Looking up with his honest eyes, the boy replied, "I learned it fromyou, in the school where it is so often sung. "

These words gave an entirely new aspect to the affair. The teacher stoodup, and went back and forth several times in the room. Then he washimself the cause of this wonderful event; there was no necromancyconcerned in it. 

In a far better humor, he took out his purse, saying, "Here is yourhalf-gulden, Rico; it is justly yours. Now go; and for the future bevery attentive to the music-lesson as long as you go to the school. Inthat way you may, perhaps, accomplish something; and in twelve orfourteen years perhaps you may be able to buy a fiddle. Now you may go. "

Rico cast one look at the fiddle, and departed with deep sadness inhis heart. 

Stineli came running to meet him from behind the wood-pile. "You didstay a long time. Have you asked the question?"

"It is all of no use, " said the boy; and his eyebrows came together inhis distress, and formed a thick black line across his forehead over hiseyes. "A fiddle costs six hundred blutsgers; and in fourteen years I canbuy one, when everybody will be dead. Who will be living fourteen yearsfrom now? There, you may have this; I do not want it. " With these wordshe pressed the half-gulden into Stineli's hand. 

"Six hundred blutsgers!" repeated the girl, horrified. "But where didthis half-gulden come from?"

Rico told her all that had happened at the teacher's, ending with thesame words expressing his great regret, "It is all of no use!"

Stineli tried to console him a little with the half-gulden; but he wasfurious at the thought of the innocent piece of money, and would noteven look at it. 

So Stineli said, "I will put it with my blutsgers, and we will have itall between us. "

Stineli herself was very much discouraged now; but as they went aroundthe corner into the field, the little pathway that led to their doorsshone so prettily in the bright sunlight, and the plat before the houseswas so white and dry, that she called out, --

"See, see! now it is summer, Rico; and we can go up into the wood, andwe will be happy again. Shall we go next Sunday?"

"Nothing will ever make me happy again, " said Rico; "but if you want togo, I will go with you. "

When they reached the door, they had arranged to go to the wood on thefollowing Sunday, and Stineli was very happy at the thought. She did allthat she was able to do through the week, and there was a great deal ofwork for her. Peterli, Sami, and Urschli had the measles, and in thestable one of the goats was sick, and needed hot water very often; andStineli had to run hither and thither, lending a helping hand in everydirection as soon as she came home from school, and on Saturday all daylong until late in the evening; and then there were the stable bucketsto be cleaned. But that night her father said, --

"Stineli _is_ a handy child. "

CHAPTER IV. 

THE BEAUTIFUL DISTANT LAKE WITHOUT A NAME

When Stineli awoke on the following Sunday morning, she was conscious ofan unusual light-heartedness, and at first could not understand thecause, until she remembered what day it was, and that her grandmotherhad said, on the previous evening, "To-morrow you must have the wholeafternoon to yourself: it is rightfully yours. "

After dinner was finished, and all the dishes taken away, and the tablewashed off by Stineli, Peterli called out, "Come here to me;" and thetwo others screamed, "No, to me!" and her father said, "Now Stineli mustgo to look after the goats. "

But at this moment her grandmother went through the kitchen, and made asign to Stineli to follow her. 

"Now go in peace, my child, " she said. "I will take care of the goatsand the children; but be sure to come home, both of you, punctually whenthe bell rings for prayer. " The grandmother knew very well that therewere two of them. 

Off flew Stineli, like a bird whose cage-door has suddenly been opened;and outside stood Rico, who had been waiting for a long time. They wenton together, across the meadow towards the wood. 

On the mountains the sun was shining brightly, and the blue heavens layover all the landscape. They were obliged to pass, for a little while, through the shade in the snow; but the sun was shining a little fartheron, and shimmered on the waters of the lake, and there were lovely dryspots on the slope that was almost hanging over the lake. 

There the children seated themselves. A sharp wind came down from theheights, and whistled about their ears. Stineli was as happy as happycould be. She shouted out, again and again, "Oh, look, Rico; look! Howbeautiful it is in the sun! Now summer has come, look how the lakeglistens! There cannot be a more beautiful lake than this one anywhere, "she said confidently. 

"Yes, yes, Stineli! You ought to see the lake I know about just once, "said Rico; and looked so longingly across the lake, that it seemed as ifthat which he wanted to see began just beyond their vision. 

"Over there are no dark fir-trees, with sharp needles, but shining greenleaves, and great red flowers; and the mountains are not so high anddark, nor so near, but lie off in the distance, and are purple; and thesky and the lake are all golden and still and warm. There the wind doesnot feel like this, and one's feet never get full of snow; and one cansit all day long on the sunny ground, and look about. "

Stineli was quite carried away by this description. She already saw thered flowers and the golden lake before her eyes, and seemed to knowexactly how beautiful it all was. 

"Perhaps you may be able to go there again to see it all, Rico. Do youknow the way?"

"You must cross the Maloja. I have been there with my father once. Hepointed me out the road that goes all the way down the mountain, --firstthis way, then that, and far below lies the lake; but so far, so far, that it is scarcely possible to go there. "

"Oh! that is easy enough, " said Stineli. "You have to go farther andfarther, that is all; and at the end you will surely get there. "

"But my father told me something else. Do you know, Stineli, when youare travelling and stop at an inn, and eat something and sleep there, then there is something to pay, and you must have money for that. "

"Oh! we have lots of money, " cried Stineli triumphantly. But hercompanion was not triumphant. 

"That is exactly as good as nothing. I know that by the affair of thefiddle, " he said sadly. 

"Then it will be better for you to stay at home, Rico. Look! it isbeautiful here at home, I am sure. "

The lad sat thoughtfully silent for a long time, leaning his head on hishand, and his eyebrows brought in a close line down over his eyes. Atlast he turned again to Stineli, who had been gathering the soft greenmoss that grew around the spot where they were lying, and of which shemade a tiny bed with two pillows and a coverlet. She meant to carry themhome to the sick Urschli. 

"You say I had better stay at home, Stineli; but, do you know, it isjust as if I did not know where my home really is. "

"Oh, dear me! what do you mean?" cried the girl; and in her surprise shethrew away a whole handful of moss. Your home is here, of course. It isalways home where father and mother"--She stopped suddenly. Rico had nomother, and his father had been away now for a very long time; and thecousin? Stineli never went near that cousin, who had never spoken onepleasant word to her. The child did not know what to say, but it was notnatural to her to remain long in uncertainty. Rico had already falleninto one of his reveries, when she grasped him by the arm, and said, --

"I should just like to know something; that is, the name of the lakewhere it is so lovely. "

Rico pondered. "I do not know, " he said; and felt very much surprisedhimself as he spoke. 

Now Stineli proposed that they should ask somebody what it was called;for even if Rico had ever so much money, and was able to travel, he mustknow how to inquire the way, and what the name of the lake was. Theybegan at once to think of whom they should inquire, --of the teacher, orof the grandmother. 

At last it occurred to Rico that his father would know better thananybody else, and he thought he would certainly ask him when he camehome again. 

The time had slipped away quickly as they sat talking, and presently thechildren heard the distant sound of a bell. They recognized the sound. It was the bell for prayers. 

They sprang up quickly, and ran off, hand in hand, down the hill-sidethrough bushes, and through the snow across the meadow; and it hadscarcely stopped ringing when they reached the door where thegrandmother was on the lookout for them. 

Stineli had to go at once into the house, and her grandmother saidquickly, "Go home directly, Rico, and do not hang around the doorany longer. "

The grandmother had never said such a thing to him before, although hehad always been in the habit of hanging around the door; for he wasnever in haste to go home, and stood always for a while before he couldmake up his mind to enter. He obeyed at once, however, and went intothe house. 

CHAPTER V. 

A SAD HOUSE, BUT THE LAKE GETS A NAME. 

Rico did not find his cousin in the sitting-room; so he went to thekitchen, and opened the door. There she stood; but before he couldenter, she raised her finger, saying, "Sch! sch! Do not open and shutthe doors, and make a noise, as if there were four of you. Go into theother room, and keep still. Your father is lying in the bedroom upthere. They brought him home in a wagon: he is sick. "

Rico went into the room, seated himself on a bench, and did not stir. 

He sat there for at least a half-hour. Presently he heard the cousinmoving about in the kitchen. Then he thought that he would go up verysoftly, and peep into the bedroom. Perhaps his father would likesomething to eat: it was long past the meal-time. 

He slipped behind the stove, mounted the little steps, and went verysoftly into the bedroom. After a while he returned, went at once intothe kitchen, approached quite close to his cousin, and said softly, --

"Cousin, come up. "

The woman was about to strike him angrily, when she happened to glanceat his face. He was perfectly colorless, --cheeks and lips as white asa sheet, and his eyes looked so black that the cousin was almostafraid of him. 

"What is the matter with you?" she asked hastily, and followed himalmost involuntarily. 

He mounted the little steps softly, and entered the chamber. His fatherlay on the bed with staring, wide-open eyes, --he was dead. 

"Oh, my God!" screamed the cousin, and ran crying out of the door thatopened upon the passage on the other side of the room, went down thestaircase, and across into the opposite house, where she called out totell the neighbor and the grandmother the sad news; and thence she ranon to the teacher and to the mayor. 

One after another they came, and entered the quiet room until it wasfull of people; for the news spread from one to another of what hadtaken place. And in the midst of all the tumult, and of all the clamorof the crowd of neighbors, Rico stood by the bedside speechless, motionless, and gazed at his father. All through the week the housewas filled with people who wished to look at the man, and hear fromthe cousin how it had all happened; so that the lad heard it repeatedover and over, that his father had been at work down in St. Gall onthe railroad. 

He had received a deep wound on the head when they were blasting a rock;and, as he could not work any longer, he wished to go home to take careof himself until the wound was healed. But the long journey--sometimeson foot, sometimes in an open wagon--was too much for him; and when hehad reached his home on Sunday, towards evening, he he had lain down onthe bed never to rise again. Without any one knowing it, he had passedaway; for he was already stiff when Rico had found him. On the followingSunday the burial took place. Rico was the only mourner to follow thecoffin. Several kind neighbors joined in, and thus the little processionwent on to Sils. In the church, Rico heard the pastor when he read out, "The deceased was called Henrico Trevillo, and was a native of Peschieraon the Lake of Garda. "

These words brought the feeling to Rico that he had heard something thathe knew perfectly well before, and yet could not recollect. He hadalways seen a picture of the lake before his eyes when he had sung, --

 "One evening In Peschiera, "

with his father, but he had never known the reason. He repeated the namesoftly to himself, while one old song after another arose in his memory. 

As he came back from the burial all alone, he saw the grandmotherseated on the log of wood, and Stineli by her side. She beckoned him tocome over to them. She gave the lad a bit of cake and another toStineli, and said now they might go off together for a walk. Rico oughtnot to be alone. 

So the children rambled off together, hand in hand. The grandmotherremained seated on her log, sadly gazing after the black-haired laduntil they had wandered slowly up the hillside and passed out of sight. Then she said softly to herself, --

 "Whate'er He does, or lets be done, Is always for the best. "

CHAPTER VI. 

RICO'S MOTHER. 

Along the road from Sils came the teacher leaning on his staff. He hadassisted at the burial. He coughed and cleared his throat; and as hedrew near to the grandmother and bade her "good evening, " he seatedhimself by her side. "If you have no objection, I will sit here with youfor a few moments, neighbor, " said he; "for I feel very badly in mythroat and chest. But what can we expect when we are almost seventyyears old, and have witnessed such a funeral as this one to-day? He wasnot thirty-five years of age, and as strong as a tree. "

"It always sets me thinking, " said the grandmother, "when I, an oldwoman of seventy-five years, am left, and here and there a young personis called away, --a useful one, too. "

"Yet the old folks are good for something. Who else can set anexample to the youth?" remarked the teacher. "But what is youropinion, neighbor: what will become of the little fellow over yonder, do you think?"

"Yes, what will become of him?" repeated the old woman. "I also askmyself that question; and if my only reliance were upon human help, Ishould not know of an answer. But there is a heavenly Father who looksafter the forsaken children. He will provide something for the lad. "

"Will you not tell me, neighbor, how it happened that the Italianmarried the daughter of your friend who lived over there opposite? Onenever knows how these people may turn out. "

"It happened as such things always happen, neighbor. You know how my oldfriend Anne-Dete had lost all her children, and her husband also, andlived alone in the cottage over yonder with Marie-Seppli, who was amerry little girl. About eleven or twelve years ago Trevillo made hisappearance here. He had work in the Maloja, and came down here with theother boys; and he and Marie-Seppli had scarcely become acquaintedbefore they were resolved to have each other. 

"And it must be said, in justice to Trevillo, that he was not only ahandsome fellow who was agreeable to everybody, but also an industriousand well-conducted man, with whom Anne-Dete (the mother) was wellpleased. Naturally she wished that they should stay in the house andlive with her, and Trevillo would gladly have done so. He was fond ofhis wife's mother, and he always did as Marie-Seppli wished him to. Hehad taken her, however, towards the Maloja in his walks, and they hadtogether looked down the road where you can see how far it goes windingdown the mountain; and he had told her how every thing was down therewhere he was born. So Marie-Seppli got it into her head that she must gothere, and no matter how much her mother worried and fretted, and saidthat they could not live there, she still was bent upon going; andTrevillo himself said that as to living there she need not fear, for hehad a nice little property and a house; but, for his part, he would liketo see a little of the world. But the bride prevailed, and after thewedding she was all for starting directly down the mountain. 

"She wrote to her mother occasionally that it was very nice where theylived, and that Trevillo was the best of husbands. 

"About five or six years later, who should walk into the room whereAnne-Dete was sitting but Trevillo, leading a little boy by the hand. Hesaid, 'There, mother, this is the only thing I have left ofMarie-Seppli. She lies buried down yonder with her other littlechildren. This one was her first, and her favorite. '

"This is what my old friend told me. Then he threw himself down on thebench where he had first seen his wife, saying that he should like tomake his home there with her and the boy, if she had no objection, fordown below it was not possible for him to continue to live. This was joyand sorrow at the same time for Anne-Dete. 

"Little Rico was then about four years old, --a quiet, thoughtful boy, never noisy or mischievous, and the very apple of her eye; but she diedin the course of a year, and Trevillo was advised to take a cousin ofhers to keep house for him and his boy. "

"So, so!" said the teacher when the old woman was silent, havingfinished her story. "I had not understood all this thoroughly before. Perhaps some of Trevillo's relations will come forward, in good time, and they can be asked to do something for the child. "

"Relations!" said the grandmother with a sigh. "That cousin is arelation, and little enough of comfort he gets from her in the course ofthe year. "

The schoolmaster rose with difficulty from his seat. "I am goingdown-hill, neighbor, " he said, shaking his head. "I cannot imagine wheremy strength has gone to. "

The old woman encouraged him, and said he was still a young man incomparison with her. But, in truth, it did surprise her to see howslowly and painfully he walked as he left her. 

CHAPTER VII. 

A PRECIOUS LEGACY, AND A PRECIOUS PRAYER. 

Many beautiful Sundays followed; and, whenever it was possible, thegrandmother so arranged it that Stineli got, now and then, a sparemoment; but the work in the house increased daily. Rico passed manyhours standing on the threshold of his cottage looking longingly acrossthe way, in the hope of seeing Stineli come out. 

Towards September, when people often sat before their houses in order toenjoy, to the utmost, the last warm evenings of the season, theschoolmaster placed himself before his door, but he looked very thin andcoughed continually; and at last, one morning when he tried to rise, hisstrength deserted him completely, and he fell back upon his pillow. 

There he lay very still, and busy with all sorts of thoughts; and hewondered what would come to pass when he died. He had no children, andhis wife had been dead for a long time, and there was only in oldmaid-servant to live with him and take care of the house. He wasprincipally occupied in thinking of what would become of all the thingsthat belonged to him when he should be gone; and, as his fiddle hungdirectly opposite to him on the wall, he said to himself, "I must leavethat behind me too. "

Then he remembered the day when Rico stood before him and played on theinstrument, and he felt as if he had rather let the boy have the fiddlethan to let it go to a distant cousin who did not understand the use ofit at all. And he thought that, if it were to go very cheap, perhapsRico could buy it. Presently he bethought himself that if he could notuse the violin, neither would he have any use for money. For all that, he could not bring himself to let the instrument, for which he had paiddown six hard gulden, go for nothing. 

So he pondered and pondered how he could manage to obtain something inexchange; but at last it was quite clear to him that there, where he wasfast going, he could not take his violin with him, neither could he takeany thing that he might get for it, for all must remain behind. 

While he was lying there the fever became greater and greater, and helay, towards evening and all night long, fighting with all sorts ofstrange thoughts, and old, long-forgotten events rose before his mindand perplexed him; so that at last, towards morning, he lay on his bedutterly exhausted, and with only one thought or wish, --viz. , to be ableto do one kind deed, one good action, and that quickly, before it wastoo late. He knocked against the wall with his stick until the oldmaid-servant heard him and came in to him; and then he sent her over tothe grandmother, to ask her to come to him as quickly as possible. 

She did come almost immediately; and before she had fairly time to askhim how he found himself, he said, --

"Will you be so good as to take down the fiddle that hangs there on thewall, and give it to the little orphan boy? I wish to make him a presentof it, and he must be very careful of it. "

Naturally the good woman was very much surprised, and could notrefrain from exclaiming repeatedly, "What will Rico do with it? Whatwill Rico say to this?" Presently she noticed, however, that theschoolmaster seemed a little restless, as if he were in a hurry tohave the thing done. 

So she left him, and hastened as quickly as possible across the fieldswith the gift under her arm; for she was also impatient to know how Ricowould take this rare piece of good fortune. 

He was standing in the doorway of his cottage. At a motion from thegrandmother, he ran towards her. 

"Here, Rico, " she said, and handed him the violin. "The schoolmastersends this to you: it is yours. "

The boy stood as if he were in a dream, but it was true. The grandmotherwas really standing there, holding the fiddle out to him. 

Trembling with pleasure and excitement, he took his present at last, putit on his arm, and gazed at it in a silly sort of way, as if he thoughtit might vanish presently, as quickly as it had come, if he did not keephis eyes on it. 

"You must be very careful of it, " said the old woman, delivering hermessage faithfully. She was much inclined to laugh, however; for it didnot seem to her that the warning was at all necessary. "And, Rico, thinkabout the teacher, and do not forget what he has done for you: he isvery ill. "

The grandmother went into the house with these words; and the boyhastened up into his own bedroom, where he was always alone. 

There he sat and fiddled, and played on and on, and forgot all abouteating or drinking, or how the time sped on. At last, when it was almostdark, he came to himself, and went down-stairs. The cousin came out fromthe kitchen, saying, "You can have something to eat to-morrow morning. You have behaved so to-day that you won't get any thing more. "

The boy did not feel hungry, although he had not eaten since the earlymorning, and went quite unconsciously across into the opposite house, and entered the kitchen. He was looking for the grandmother. 

Stineli was standing by the hearth, arranging the fire. When she caughtsight of Rico, she shouted aloud for joy; for the ground had almostburned beneath her feet, she had been so impatient all day--ever sinceher grandmother had told her the great news--to get away, and expressher delight to Rico; but she had not dared to leave the house for aninstant. Now she was fairly beside herself, and called out, again andagain, "You have got it now! You have got it now!"

Hearing the noise, the grandmother came out of the sitting-room; andRico hastened towards her, saying, "May I go to thank the teacher, ifhe is sick?"

After thinking a while, --for she remembered how very ill theschoolmaster looked in the morning when she saw him, --the good womansaid, "Wait a few moments, Rico, I will go with you;" and stepped intoher room to put on a clean apron. Then they went over to theschoolhouse. The grandmother entered first. Rico followed, his fiddleunder his arm. He had not once laid it down since it had come into hispossession. 

The teacher lay on his bed, looking very feeble indeed. The lad steppedto the bedside and looked down at his fiddle and could scarcely speak, but his eyes sparkled so brightly that the good man had no difficulty inunderstanding him: he cast a pleased look towards the boy, and nodded athim. Then he beckoned the grandmother to draw near. Rico moved a littleto one side, and the teacher said with a weak voice, "Grandmother, Ishould be very glad if you would say 'Our Father' for me, I feel so verymuch troubled. "

Just at this moment the prayer-bell sounded. The grandmother folded herhands and repeated the Lord's Prayer, and Rico also folded his hands. Every thing was quiet in the room. After a while the grandmother bentover and closed the old teacher's eyes, for he had passed away. Then shetook Rico by the hand, and went softly home with him. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

ON THE LAKE OF SILS. 

Stineli did not recover herself during the entire week, her joy was sogreat; but it seemed as if that week were ten days longer than anyother, for Sunday seemed never to come. 

At last it did come, and a golden sun shone over the harvest fields, andshe and Rico went up under the fir-trees, where the sparkling lake layspread out at their feet; and the girl's heart was so overflowing withhappiness, that she had to dance about and shout aloud before she seatedherself on the moss, on the very edge of the slope. There she could seeevery thing round about, --the sunny heights and the lake, and, stretchedover all, the blue heavens. 

Suddenly she called out, "Come now, Rico; we will sing, --sing forever so long. "

So the lad seated himself by Stineli's side, and placed his fiddle inposition, --for he had, of course, brought that too, --and began to play, and the children sang, --

 "Little lambkins, come down From the bright, sunny height, "

until they had sung all the verses; but Stineli had not had half enough. 

"We will sing more, " she said, and went on, --

 "Little lambkins, above On the bright, pleasant hill, The sunlight is sparkling, The winds are not still. "

And then Rico sang the verse and was pleased and said, "Sing some more. "

Stineli was quite excited: thought a bit, and looked up, then down, andsang again, --

 "And the lambkins, and the lambkins, And the heavens so blue; And red and white flowers, And the green grasses, too. "

Then Rico fiddled and sung the verse with her, and said again, "Some more. "

Stineli laughed, and, glancing at Rico, sang, --

 "And a sad little boy, And a very gay maid; And a lake like another, That from water is made. "

Laughing and singing, Stineli wenton, --

 "And the lambkins, and the lambkins, They jumped up so high, And all were most merry, And did not know why. 

 "And a boy and a girl By the lake-side did sit, And because they forgot it, It hurt not a bit. "

Now they began at the very beginning, and sang the whole thing throughagain, and made merry over it, and were so happy that they sang it atleast ten times over; and the more they repeated it, the better itsounded to their ears. 

After this Rico played several tunes that he had learned from hisfather; but they soon came back to their own song, and began that again. 

In the midst of it the girl stopped and said, "It has just come intomy head how you can go down to the other lake, and will not need anymoney either. "

Rico paused suddenly and gazed at his companion, awaiting what wascoming next. 

"Don't you see, " she said earnestly, "now you have a fiddle, and youknow a song. You can go and play your song, and sing before thetaverns; then the people will give you something to eat and to drink, and let you sleep there, for they will see that you are not a beggar. So you can go on until you reach the lake; and, coming home, you can dothe same thing again. "

Rico reflected over these words, but Stineli would give him no time fordreaming: she wanted to go on with the song. 

They made so much noise themselves, that they did not hear theprayer-bell at all; and did not notice what time it was until remindedby the growing darkness, and perceived the grandmother looking aboutanxiously for them before they reached the houses. 

But Stineli was too much excited to be subdued by any thing. She ran ontowards her grandmother, and said, "You have no idea how beautifullyRico can fiddle; and we have made a song of our own, for ourselves only. We will sing it to you this very moment. "

And before there was time to answer, they began and sang it all through;and the good grandmother listened with real pleasure to their sweet, clear voices. 

She seated herself on the log; and, when the children had finished, said, "Come now, Rico, I want you to play for me; and you and I willsing together. Do you know the song that begins, --

 "'I sing to thee with heart and voice?'"

Rico had probably heard the hymn, but he did not know it correctly, andsaid that he wished first to hear it from the grandmother, and he wouldfollow her softly on his violin, and then he would be sure of it. 

So they began; and first the grandmother repeated the words of a verseto the children, and then they all sang it together, --

 "I sing to thee with heart and voice, Lord, whom my soul obeys. I sing, and bid all earth rejoice: Thou teachest me thy praise. 

 "I know that thou the fountain art Of joy, --the eternal spring Which, into every willing heart, Healing and good dost bring. 

 "Why do we worry over sin? Why sorrow night and day? Come, bring thy load, cast it on Him Who fashioned thee from clay. 

 "He never yet has done amiss; And, perfect in His sight, All that He does or orders is Sure to be finished right. 

 "Now only let His will be done, Nor clamor constantly, Peace to thy heart on earth will come, And joy eternally. "

"It is well, " said the grandmother. "Now we know a proper evening hymn, and you may go quickly to rest, my children. "

CHAPTER IX. 

A PERPLEXING AFFAIR. 

When Rico entered the cottage that evening it was later than usual, forhe had spent a full half-hour in singing the hymn. As he went in, hiscousin came flying towards him. 

"Are you beginning in this style already?" she called out. "The supperstood waiting for you a whole hour: now I have put it away. Go to yourbedroom; and if you turn out a good-for-nothing and a scamp, it is nofault of mine. I don't know any thing that I had not rather do than lookafter a boy like you. "

Rico never answered a single word, no matter how much his cousin mightscold at him; but this evening he looked at her, and said, --

"I can get out of your way, cousin. "

She shoved the bolt in on the house-door with such violence that thedoor shook, and went into the sitting-room, slamming that door behindher. Rico went up into his dark little bedroom. 

On the following day, as all the big family in the other cottagewere eating their supper, --the parents, the grandmother, and all thechildren, --the cousin came running over, and called out from thedoor to ask if they knew any thing about Rico: she had no idea wherehe could be. 

"He will come fast enough when it is time for supper, " replied thefather quietly. 

The cousin entered the room. She had been quite sure that the lad wasthere, and she expected him to come out if she only stood at the doorand asked for him. 

Now she went on to tell them that he had not made his appearance atbreakfast, nor at dinner-time, and that he had not been in bed theprevious night, for she had found it as she had left it; and shebelieved that he must have gone away very early in the morning beforedaybreak, wandering about as he was in the habit of doing, for the boltwas pushed aside on the house-door when she went to open it. She thoughtat first that she must have forgotten to bolt it the night before in heranger, for nobody knew how angry she had been. 

"Something has happened to him, " said the father, quite unmoved. "He hasprobably fallen into some cleft up there on the mountain: it oftenhappens to little boys who go climbing about everywhere. 

"You ought to have spoken of it earlier in the day, " he went on slowly. "We shall have to go to look for him, and in the night you can't seeany thing. "

At these words the cousin broke out into a terrible uproar. She expectedthere would be all sorts of fault found with her; that was always theway when you had suffered for years, and never said any thing about it. 

"Nobody would ever believe, " she said, --and spoke a truthful word then, at least, --"what a sly, cunning, deceitful boy that is, and what a lifehe has led me these four years. He will turn out a regular vagabond, atramp, a disgraceful creature. "

The grandmother had ceased eating for several minutes. She now rose fromthe table, and went up to the cousin, who was talking very noisily. 

"Stop, neighbor, stop, " she said; and repeated it twice without effect. "I know Rico very well; I have always known him ever since he wasbrought here to his grandmother. If I were in your place, I would notsay another word, but stop to think whether the lad, to whom perhapssomething dreadful has happened, and who may be standing up there beforeGod at this moment, may not have some complaint againstsomebody, --somebody who had done him a heavy injury, all deserted as heis, with her cruel words. "

Since Rico's disappearance, the way the lad looked at her on thatlast evening had occurred several times to the cousin's mind, and howhe said, --

"I can easily get out of your way. "

That was why she had made such a noise about it, in order to drown thesewords. Now she did not dare to look the grandmother in the face, butsaid that she must go: perhaps Rico might be at the cottage by thistime, which she would very gladly have had come true. 

From this day forward the cousin never spoke another word against Ricoin the grandmother's hearing; nor, indeed, did she often speak of him atall. She believed, as did all the neighbors far and near, that the ladwas dead; and she was thankful that nobody knew about the words he hadsaid to her on that last evening. 

The next morning after this event was made known, Stineli's father wentout to the thrashing-floor and picked himself out a stout stick. He saidthat he would call some of the neighbors together: they must go searchfor the lad somewhere towards the glaciers and up by the ravines. 

Stineli crept out after him, and he said, when he noticed her, "That isright, come and help me to search; you can get into the corners betterthan I can. "

At last, after they had found a big beanpole, Stineli ventured to say, "But father, if Rico went along the high-road, then he could not fallinto any thing, could he?"

"Oh, perhaps he might, " replied her father. "Such thoughtless boys as heoften stray off the road, and fall into ravines and places: they don'tknow themselves where they are going, and he was always moving aboutmore or less. "

That this was true of Rico nobody knew better than Stineli; and shebecame dreadfully anxious from that time forth, which anxiety increasedevery day to such a degree that she could neither eat nor sleep forsorrow, and did her work, day after day, as if she did not know what shewas about. 

Rico was not found: nobody had seen any thing of him. They ceased tosearch for him, and the folks soon began to find consolation in thethought, "It is just as well for the little fellow, after all; he wasforsaken, and had no one to care for him. "

CHAPTER X. 

A LITTLE LIGHT. 

Stineli grew more and more thin and quiet from day to day. The littleones called out complainingly, "Stineli never tells us stories now, andnever laughs any more. " Her mother said to her father, "Do you noticehow changed she is?" And her father replied, "It is because she grows sofast. She must get a little goat's milk early in the mornings. "

After this had gone on for three weeks or so, Stineli's grandmothercalled the girl into her bedroom one evening, and said, "My dearStineli, I can very well understand that you cannot forget your friendRico, but you must try to remember that it is God's will that he shouldbe taken away; and that, as it is so, it is also the best thing forRico, as we must try to think. "

At these words Stineli began to weep as her grandmother had never seenher do before; and she sobbed and sobbed, saying, "The good God did notdo it: I did it, grandmother; and therefore I feel as if I should die ofanxiety. It was I who proposed to Rico to go to find the lake, and nowhe has fallen into a ravine, and is dead; it has hurt him dreadfully, and it is all my fault. " Then the poor child cried and sobbed pitifully. It seemed to the grandmother as if a heavy weight were lifted from herheart as she heard these words of Stineli's. She had given up Rico aslost; and had in secret believed that the child had fled from the unkindtreatment he had received at home, and was lying somewhere in the water, or was lost in the woods. Now a new hope arose in her heart. 

She succeeded in quieting Stineli enough to persuade her to relate thewhole story about the lake, of which the grandmother was in totalignorance: how Rico had always been talking about this lake, and how hehad longed to go to find it, and how, at last, Stineli had suggested theway for him to do so. It really seemed most likely that Rico had startedto find the lake, but her father's mention of the ravines had destroyedall hope in Stineli. 

The good old woman took her granddaughter by the hand, and drew hertowards her, saying, "Now, Stineli, I have something to explain to you. Do you remember what the old song says, --the one we sang with Rico onthe last evening we were together?--

 "'All that He does or orders is Sure to be finished right. '"

Now you see, that although the good God did not exactly do thisthing, --as if He had let Rico die in his bed, for instance, --yet thething is in His hand all the same, although you have it turned aside, perhaps, a little; for certainly the good God is stronger than thislittle Stineli. And, now that you have made this sad mistake, it will bea lesson to you for all the rest of your life, no matter how it may turnout in the end, that children should not run away into the unknownworld, nor undertake things about which they are utterly ignorant; andthat without saying a word to their parents or to their grandmothers, who love them so well. But now the kind God has allowed it to happen, and we may certainly hope that it will all be finished right. 

"Now ponder this well, my Stineli, and never forget what you have thuslearned by experience; and now--for I see how heavily it weighs downyour heart--it will be well for you to go to pray to the good God, thatHe will allow this mistake of yours and Rico to turn out all right. Andthen you can be happy again, Stineli, and I shall be so, too; for Ibelieve firmly that Rico is living, and that the good God has notforsaken him. "

And Stineli became after this like her former happy self; and, althoughshe missed Rico constantly, still she no longer felt worried, nor didshe reproach herself, but looked continually down the road to Maloja, expecting to see him. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A LONG JOURNEY. 

On that memorable Sunday evening, Rico seated himself on the chair inhis gloomy bedroom. There he decided to stay until his cousin hadgone to bed. 

After Stineli had made the discovery that Rico could go with his fiddledown to the much-wished-for lake, the enterprise seemed a very simplething to the lad, --so easy, that he only thought of the best way to getoff. He had a presentiment that his cousin would probably try to hinderhim from going, although he felt sure that she would not miss him afterhe was away. 

So, when she began to scold him when he came home, he said to himself, "I will be off as soon as she is once in her bed. "

He had very pleasant thoughts as he sat there in the dark, --of how niceit would be not to hear the scolding voice of his cousin all day long, and of what big bushels of the red flowers he would bring back toStineli when he returned. And then the picture of the sunny shores ofthe lake and the purple hills rose before his mind, and he fell asleep. He was not in a very comfortable position, for he had never let hisfiddle leave his hand; and he soon awoke again, but it was still dark. 

Now he had a clear idea of what he would do. He had his Sunday clotheson, which was good; and his cap was also on his head. He took his fiddleunder his arm, and went softly down the steps, slipped the bolt aside, and stole out into the cool air of morning. 

The dawn was just showing over the mountains, and in Sils the cocks werecrowing. Off he walked briskly, to get well away from the houses and toreach the highway. When he once was on the road, he went along merrily;for he felt quite at home there, he had so often traversed the groundwith his father. He could form no idea of how far it really was to theMaloja; and indeed it seemed very long to him, after he had been goingfor two good hours. Little by little it grew brighter, however; and inabout an hour more, when he reached the place before the tavern upon theMaloja, where he used to stand with his father and gaze down themountain road, the sunny light of morning lay upon the mountains, andthe tips of the fir-trees were all touched with gold. 

Rico seated himself upon the edge of the roadside. He was very tired, and remembered suddenly that he had not eaten any thing since thenoonday meal of the day before. But he was not discouraged, for nowthe way was all down hill; and, after that, he should undoubtedlyreach the lake. 

While he sat there, the big post-wagon came rumbling along. He had oftenseen it as it came through Sils, and always thought that the verygreatest happiness upon earth must be experienced by the driver, who satall day long on the box, and controlled his four horses with his whip. Now he saw this happy creature nearer; for the post-wagon stopped, andthe lad never once removed his eyes from the wonderful man, as he camedown from his perch, stepped into the inn, and came out again with anenormous piece of black bread in his hand, upon which lay a large pieceof cheese. 

Next, the driver drew out a strong knife, cut a good big bit of bread, and gave each horse a mouthful in turn, not forgetting himself in themeantime; but upon his own piece of bread he put an equally big morselof cheese. As they all stood there, eating in happy companionship, theman looked about a little, and presently called out, "Hulloa, littlemusician! won't you join us too? Come hither. "

Now when Rico saw them all eating, he fully realized how very hungry hewas. He most gladly accepted the invitation, and approached the driver, who cut such a big slice of bread and also of cheese to give the lad, that Rico did not really know how he should manage to eat it. 

He was obliged to put his fiddle down on the ground; and the coachmanlooked on very complaisantly while the boy ate his breakfast, and said, while he followed his own occupation, --

"You are a very small fiddler. Do you know how to play something?"

"Oh, yes! two songs, besides those I learned from my father, "replied Rico. 

"Really! And where are you going to on your two little legs?" said thedriver. "To Peschiera, on the Lake of Garda, " was the serious answer. 

At these words, the coachman burst into such boisterous laughter thatthe boy gazed up at him in great astonishment. 

"Well, you are a good one to travel, " cried the man, still laughing. "Have you any notion how far it is, and that a little musician like youcould wear out his two feet, and his soles, too, before he could catchsight of a single drop of the water of the Lake of Garda? Who sends youdown there?"

"Nobody. I go of my own accord. "

"Well, I never have seen the like of you before, " said the man, stilllaughing good-naturedly. "Where, then, is your home, my boy?"

"I do not know exactly. It may be on the Lake of Garda, " was theserious answer. 

"What sort of reply is that?"

So saying, the coachman looked with some curiosity at the little figurebefore him, which certainly did not betray any signs of being neglected. On the contrary, the head, with its black curly hair, and the niceSunday suit of clothes, gave the lad a very genteel appearance; and hisdelicate features and earnest eyes bore unmistakable evidence tosomething noble in his character, and any one who looked at him once wascertain to repeat the glance with pleasure. 

Such was also the case with the driver. He gazed steadfastly at Rico, and presently said, kindly, "You carry your passport in your face, myboy; and it is not a bad one either, even if you do not know where youbelong. What will you give me now, if I will carry you along with medown yonder, on the box?"

Rico stared, for he could scarcely believe his ears at these words. Tosit on that high post-wagon, and drive down into the valley! Such luckcould never, never be his; of that he was sure. Besides, what had he togive the coachman in exchange?

"I have only my fiddle in the world, and I cannot give that away, " hesaid sadly, after thinking a while. 

"Well, I should not know what to do with that box, " laughed the driver"Come along. We will get up there, and you may play me a little music. "

Rico could not trust his ears; but, sure enough, the coachman pushed himup over the wheel to the top of the coach, climbing up after him. Thepassengers had all taken their places, the doors were closed, and awaythey rolled down the road. --the well-known road over which Rico had sooften longingly gazed, wishing that he could travel it. 

Now his wish was realized. High up between heaven and earth he seemed tobe flying, and could not believe that he was not in a dream. 

The coachman was revolving in his own mind the question of the boy'sbelongings. 

"Just tell me, now, you little travelling bundle, where yourfather lives. "

He asked this after having cracked his whip many times in succession asloud as he could. 

"He is dead. "

"Oh, dear! Well, where is your mother, then?"

"She is dead, too. "

"Well, there is always a grandfather and a grandmother, or something. Where are yours?"

"All dead. "

"At any rate, everybody has some brothers or sisters; where are yours, Ishould like to know?"

"All are dead, " was the sorrowfully repeated answer. 

When the driver had convinced himself that they were all gone, he ceasedhis questions about the relatives, and began in another direction with, "What was your father's name?"

"Henrico Trevillo of Peschiera, on the Lake of Garda. "

At last the driver thought he had got at the root of the matter, andsaid to himself this boy had strayed away, or been carried away, fromhis home down below there, and it is a good thing for him to get carriedback where he belongs; and he thought no more about the affair. 

Presently they passed the first very steep bit of the hill, and came toan even stretch of ground, and the driver said, "Now, musician, let ushave a jolly song to cheer the way. "

Full of satisfaction, and much elated at his high position on his throneunder the blue heaven, the boy took his instrument and began to sing inhis strong, clear tones, --

 "Little lambkins, come down. "

Now it happened that there were three students seated up on the top ofthe post-wagon: they were off on a vacation trip, and very merry. 

So when Rico carolled forth Stineli's song in his gayest manner, theyall burst out laughing and shouted, "Stop, singer, stop, and begin overagain; we want to sing with you. "

Rico obeyed, and the jolly students joined in with all their might, --

 "And the lambkins, and the lambkins, "--

and laughed so extravagantly all the time that they drowned the sound ofRico's fiddle completely. And then one of them would take up the wordsand sing alone, --

 "And if they forgot it, It hurt not a bit. "

And then the others joined in, and sang as loudly as possible, --

"And the lambkins, and the lambkins. "

And so they went on for a long time. If Rico paused a little, theyshouted, "Go on, fiddler; don't stop yet, " and threw little pieces ofmoney to him over and over again, until he had quite a heap in his cap. 

Within the coach the passengers opened the windows, and stuck theirheads out to listen to the merry singing. 

Rico started off afresh, and the students also. They divided the songinto solos and chorus; and the solo sang very solemnly, --

"And one lake, like another, From water is made. "

And then again, --

 "And because they forgot it, It hurt not a bit. "

And the chorus took it up with, --

 "And the lambkins, and the lambkins. "

Then they laughed so that they were almost dead, and were forced to bestill for very fatigue and want of breath. 

Presently the driver stopped, for it was time for the horses to rest, and also dinner-time. While the good man helped Rico down, he held thelittle fellow's cap firmly for him, for it had a lot of money in it, andthe boy was busy enough with holding his fiddle carefully. 

The coachman was perfectly delighted when he saw the money, andsaid, as he gave Rico the cap, "That is first rate; now you can havea good dinner. "

The students leaped down one after the other, and crowded around thefiddler to have a look at him, for they could not see him very well onthe top of the coach; and when they discovered what a tiny manikin hewas, they began to make merry again. Judging from his voice, they hadexpected to see a large, strong musician; and the sight of this childseemed to make the fun twice as funny. 

They took the little fellow up between them, and carried him withsinging and laughter into the inn. There they seated him at the tablebetween two gentlemen, and said that he was their guest; and they allhelped him one after the other, and put huge pieces upon his plate, forno one would be outdone by the others in serving him; and the boy hadcertainly never eaten such a dinner in all his life as he ate that day. 

"Tell us where you learned your beautiful song?" asked one of three. 

"Stineli made it up, " replied Rico, very seriously. 

The students looked at each other at these words, and burst out againwith laughter. 

"So Stineli made it up, did she? Then we must drink her health over it. "

Rico had to join in drinking the toast, and was nothing loath to drinkto Stineli's health. 

But now the time for resting and eating was over; and while they wereall taking their places to go on their journey, a stout man came towardsRico, --a man who had such a big stick in his hand, that it looked as ifhe had torn up a young tree for his walking-stick. He was dressed in athick, golden-brown stuff from head to foot. 

"Come here, little one, " he said to Rico. "How nicely you did sing! Iheard you here, inside the coach; and my business is also with sheep, for, you know, I am a sheep-dealer; and I want to give you something, because you can sing about them so prettily. "

With these words he put a big piece of silver in Rico's hand, for thecap had been emptied by this time, and the contents transferred to theboy's pocket. 

After this the man got into the coach, and the driver lifted Rico up tohis high seat as if the boy had been a mere feather, and off they went. 

As soon as the speed of the start had a little abated, the studentscalled for more music, and Rico played every thing that he couldremember ever having heard his father play; and at the end he played, --

 "I sing to thee with heart and voice. "

But this tune must have put the students to sleep, for every thingbecame quite still; and at last the riddle was silent. The eveningbreeze stirred gently, and the stars climbed silently up into the skyone after the other, until they were shining brightly in everydirection. 

Rico looked about, and thought of Stineli, of the grandmother, of whatthey were now doing; and it occurred to him that this was the very timeat which the prayer-bell usually rang, and when they were saying "OurFather. " He did the same, to be with them in that, at least: folded hishands, and said his prayer piously under the brilliant heavens. 

CHAPTER XII. 

IT STILL GOES ON. 

At last Rico also fell asleep. He only awoke when the driver took holdof him to lift him down. All the passengers descended; and the threestudents came to the lad, shook him kindly by the hand, and wished ahappy journey. One of them called out, "Greet Stineli very kindly forus. " Then they disappeared up one of the streets, and Rico could hearthem as they sang merrily, --

 "And the lambkins, and the lambkins, "

Rico now stood alone in the darkness. He had not the slightest ideawhere he was, nor of what he ought to do next. He presentlyremembered that he had not even thanked the kind coachman who hadallowed him to come all this way on the coach, and he felt that hemust do that at once. 

The coachman and his horses were both invisible, and nothing butdarkness was about the boy. At last he espied a lantern hanging upsomewhere in the distance, and went towards the light. It was hanging onthe stable-door, and the horses were just then brought in. Near the doorstood the man with the thick stick. He seemed to be waiting for thedriver; so Rico took his stand near by, and waited too. 

Probably the sheep-dealer did not recognize the little fiddler in thedarkness; but suddenly he exclaimed, quite surprised, "What! is thatyou, little one? Where are you going to pass the night?"

"I do not know where, " replied the boy. 

"Well, I never heard of such a thing; at eleven o'clock at night, and alittle scrap of a boy like you in a strange place"--

The sheep-dealer seemed to speak in a great hurry, for he could scarcelybreathe in his excitement; neither did he finish his sentence, for thedriver entered the stable at that moment, and Rico went up to him atonce, saying, "I want to thank you for bringing me along with you. "

"You have come just in the nick of time. I had almost forgotten youwhile I was looking after my horses, and I wanted to hand you over to anacquaintance. I was thinking of asking you, good friend, " he continued, turning towards the dealer, "if you would not take this little chapalong with you, as you are going to Bergamo. He wants to go somewhere onthe Lake of Garda. He is one of those who belong here or there. Youunderstand, don't you?"

The sheep-dealer thought of the stories he had heard of lost or stolenchildren. He looked with pity at Rico, standing in the dim light of thelantern, and said, "He does look as if he were not in exactly theclothes that belong to him. He would become a richer dress, I am sure. Iwill take him with me. "

When he had talked over the sheep-trade a little with the coachman theyparted, and the dealer made a sign to Rico that he should follow him. 

After a short walk, the man entered an inn, where he seated himself in acorner of the eating-room with the boy beside him. 

"Now let us look at your possessions, " he said to Rico, "so that we cansee what they will allow you to have. Where are you going on the lake?"

"To Peschiera, on the Lake of Garda. "

This was Rico's never-failing answer. He drew out his money from hispocket, --a nice little pile of small coins it was, and the big silverbit on the top of all. 

"Have you only that one bit of silver?" asked the dealer. 

"Yes; only that one. You gave me that, " replied the boy. 

It pleased the man to think that he was the only one who had givensilver; and he was also pleased that the lad was aware of the fact. Hefelt as if he wanted to give him something more. Just at this moment hissupper was placed before him, and the kindly man nodded to his littlecompanion, saying, "I will pay for this, and for your night's lodgingalso; so you need not touch your little fortune until to-morrow. "

Rico was so tired out with all the fiddling and singing, and the longjourney, that he could scarcely eat; and as soon as he reached the bigbedroom where he was to pass the night with his protector, he was asleepthe moment he had put his head on the pillow. 

Early the following morning, Rico was awakened from a sound sleep by apowerful grasp. He sprang quickly out of bed. His companion stood readydressed for the journey, with his big stick in his hand. 

It was not long, however, before Rico was also ready, with his fiddletucked under his arm. They went into the dining-room, and the dealercalled for coffee at once. He recommended the lad to make a good mealthen; for they had a long journey before them, he said, and one thatcreated an appetite. 

When they had breakfasted to their satisfaction, they sallied forth;and, after a little, came round a sharp corner; and how Rico did openhis big eyes! for there, before him, lay a great shining lake; and muchexcited, he shouted out, "Now we are on the Lake of Garda!"

"Not for a long time yet, my boy. This is the Lake of Como. "

They went on board a boat, and sailed for several hours after this; andRico looked about him, --at the sun-bathed shores, and then at the bluewaters; and he felt at home at last. 

Presently he took his piece of silver from his pocket, and put it downon the table before the dealer. 

"What does this mean? Have you too much money by you?" asked the man, who was looking on in surprise, his arms supported on his big stick. 

"I must pay to-day, " said Rico. "You said so yesterday. "

"You are very attentive to what is said to you. That is a very goodthing; but that is not the way to do, to put your money down on a tablelike that. Give it to me. "

He took it, and went over to pay for their passage; but when he drew outhis heavy leathern purse, full of silver pieces, --for he was doing alarge business in selling sheep, --he could not find the heart to takethe poor lad's solitary bit of silver; and he brought it back again withthe ticket, saying, "There, you can find better use for your moneyto-morrow. Now you are with me, but who knows how it will be after this?When you are alone down there, and I am not with you any more, shall yoube able to find the house where you are going?"

"No; I do not know any thing about the house, " replied Rico. 

The man was secretly much surprised, and the lad's story seemed verymysterious to him. He did not let this appear, however, and asked nofurther questions. He said to himself that he should not probably findout any thing more at present, but would ask the coachman about it thenext time they met. He probably knew the truth, even better than thechild himself did. He felt very sorry for the little fellow, who wouldsoon be deprived of his protection too. 

When the boat stopped, the man took Rico's hand in his, saying, "Now Ishall not lose you, and you can keep up with me better, for we musthurry along; they won't wait for us. "

It was as much as the little fellow could do to keep up with his friend. He did not turn to look to the right hand nor the left, but presentlystopped before some strange-looking wagons on wheels. They mounted thestep, Rico behind his companion; and the former entered a railroadcarriage for the first time. 

They flew along for several hours, until at last the dealer stood up, and said, "Now I must go. We are in Bergamo, and you are to stay herequietly; for I have arranged it all for you. You have only to get outwhen you get there. "

"Then shall I be at Peschiera, on the Lake of Garda?" asked Rice. 

His companion replied in the affirmative. At last Rico understood--whathe had not clearly seen before--how much kindness the dealer had shownto him, and the boy felt very sorry that they must part. 

After this Rico sat alone in his corner, and had plenty of time forday-dreaming; for nobody troubled him in any way, although the train hadstopped at several stations since his companion left him. 

At last the conductor came in, took Rico by the arm, and led him quicklyto the door, and lifted him down the steps; then, pointing towards theheights in the distance, he said briefly, "Peschiera;" and in atwinkling he was back again in the carriage, and disappeared in thetrain as it steamed off. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

ON THE DISTANT, BEAUTIFUL LAKE. 

Rico went forward a little way from the building at which the train hadstopped, and looked about. This white house, the barren square in frontof it, the straight road in the distance, were all new and strange tohis eyes. He had not seen any of them before; and he said to himself, "Ihave not come to the right place after all. " He went sadly down the roadbetween the trees, however, until presently the road made a turn, andthe boy stood as if transfixed, and believed himself dreaming, forbefore him lay the lake, heavenly blue in the brilliant sunlight, withits warm, still shores; and yonder were the mountains, and the sunny baywas there, where the friendly houses sparkled in the distance. 

Now he knew where he was. He had seen all this before, he had stood inthis very place, he knew the trees perfectly well; but where was thecottage? It must have stood there, close to where he now was, but it wasnot visible. 

The old road was there below. Oh! he knew that well; and there, therewere the great shining red flowers with such green leaves. A littlestone bridge ought to be there, somewhere over the outlet of the lake:he had often passed over that little bridge, but could not see it wherehe stood, however. 

Rico started off, as if driven by the longing that now took possessionof him. Down the road he ran; and over there, --yes, that was the littlestone bridge. Every thing came back to him: there he had crossed, andsomebody held him by the hand, --his mother. Suddenly his mother's facecame before his eyes quite distinctly; he had never seen it so clearlybefore. He remembered how she had stood there and looked at him withloving eyes. It all came back to his mind with a rush. 

He threw himself down on the ground by the bridge, and cried and sobbedaloud, "O mother! where are you, mother? Where is my home, mother?"

He lay there for a long, long time, and cried until his great sorrowwas somewhat stilled. He thought his heart must burst, and as if allthe grief that had been hitherto pent up within his bosom must now findan outlet. 

When at last he raised himself from the ground, the sun had alreadydeclined in the heavens, and the golden twilight lay over the lake. Themountains were turning purple, and a sunny mist lay all over the shores. This was the way his lake had always looked to Rico in his dreams, onlythe reality was even more lovely than he had remembered it. 

And his great wish rose again in his mind as he sat there, "Oh, if Icould show this to Stineli!"

At last the sun sunk below the horizon, and the light slowly died out. Rico arose, and passed along the road towards the red flowers. A narrowlane branched off from the main road at this place. There they stood, one bush after another: it looked like a great garden. There was, truly, only an open fence about the whole; and within the flowers, the trees, and the grape-vines were all growing together. 

At the farther end stood a pretty house with wide open doors; and in thegarden a lad was moving about cutting big bunches of golden grapes nowfrom this vine, now from that, all the while whistling merrily. 

Rico gazed at the flowers, and thought, "If Stineli could only seethem!" He stood for a long time thoughtfully by the fence. Presently thelad espied him, and called out, "Come in, fiddler; and play a prettysong, if you know one. "

The lad spoke in Italian, and it produced a strange sensation in Rico'smind: he understood what he heard, but he never could have said ithimself. He entered the garden, and the lad began to try to talk withhim; but when he found that Rico could not reply, he pointed towards theopen door, giving Rico to understand that he was to go there to play. 

When Rico approached the door, he found that it opened directly into abedroom. A little bed stood within, near which was seated a woman whowas knitting with red yarn. Rico placed himself before the threshold, and began to play and sing his song, --

"Little lambkins, come down. "

When he had finished, the pale face of a little boy was suddenly raisedfrom the pillows of the bed; and Rico heard the words, --

"Play again. "

Rico played another tune. 

"Play again" was repeated. This went on for five or six times, untilRico had exhausted his stock of songs and tunes; and he put his fiddleunder his arm, and was moving away, when the little boy began to callout piteously, --

"Oh, do stay! Do play again! Play something else!" Then the woman stoodup, and came towards Rico. 

She placed something in his hand, and at first he did not understandwhat she wanted; but presently he remembered what Stineli had said, thatif he went to a door, and played on his fiddle, the people would givehim something. The woman asked him kindly where he came from, and wherehe was going to; but he could not answer her. She then asked if he werewith his parents? He shook his head. If he were alone? He nodded assent. Where he was going so late in the evening? Rico shook his head, todenote uncertainty. A great pity took possession of the woman for thelittle stranger; and she called to the boy who worked in the garden, andbade him conduct the fiddler to the inn of the "Golden Sun. " Perhaps thelandlord would understand his language, for he had been away in foreignparts for a long time. She bade the gardener to say to the landlord thatshe wished him to let the lad stay there over night, that she would payfor it; and, in the morning, set the little fellow off in the rightdirection towards his destination. He was so young, --"only a littleolder than my boy, " she added, compassionately; and also would thelandlord give the boy something to eat. 

Again the child on the bed called out, "He must play again;" and wouldnot stop until his mother said, "He will come again. Now he must sleep, and you too. "

The gardener walked on in advance of Rico, who knew, however, what wasto be done; for he had understood what the woman said perfectly. 

In about ten minutes they had reached the town. In one of the littlestreets the gardener entered a house, and proceeded at once to thedining-room, which was filled with tobacco-smoke, and with men seated atlittle tables all about. 

Then the gardener gave his message, to which the landlord replied, "Itis all right. " The landlady came too, and both looked Rico over fromhead to foot. When the guests at the neighboring tables espied thefiddle under Rico's arm, several of them called out together, "There ismusic!" And another one shouted, "Play something, boy, quickly;something gay!" And they all began to shout for music so noisily thatthe landlord could hardly make Rico hear him when he asked what languagehe spoke, and whence he came. Rico replied in his own language that hecame down over the Maloja, that he could understand every thing that wassaid to him, but could not reply in the same language. The landlordunderstood him, and said that he had been up there in the mountains, andthey would have a little conversation later; but now the boy must reallyplay something, for the guests called for music incessantly. 

Rico, obedient as ever, began to play, and also to sing his own song asusual. But the company did not understand the words, and the tune seemedvery dull to them also. Some began to make jokes and noises, whileothers called for something different, --a dance, or a pretty tune. 

Rico sang every verse of his song to the very end; for when he had oncebegun it, he would not stop until it was finished properly. When he hadfinished, he bethought himself. He knew no dance music, so that was outof the question. The hymn he had learned from the grandmother was veryslow, and they would not understand that either. Then he remembered, andbegan the air, --

 "Una Sera In Peschiera. "

Scarcely had he brought forth the first notes of this tune, when everything became still; and in a moment or two voices broke forth from thedifferent tables round about the room, and they sang in chorus as theboy had never yet heard any one sing. He became excited presently, andplayed with great feeling, while the men sang enthusiastically; and assoon as one verse was ended, Rico began the music for the next withouthesitating, for he had learned, from hearing his father play it, exactlyhow the accompaniment should be, and when to stop. When he had reachedthe finale, such a storm of applause broke forth that the boy was quiteoverwhelmed. All the men called out and shouted, striking their fistsupon the tables for pleasure; and then they all came about little Ricowith their glasses, and they all wanted to drink with him. Some took himby the shoulders, and all shouted at him, and made such a racket withtheir surprise and pleasure, that Rico became very much frightened, andturned paler and paler every moment. 

What had he done, however, but play their own Peschiera song, thatbelonged to them alone, and which no stranger could ever learn; and thischild had played it as firmly and correctly as if he had been aPeschierana. Such a wonderful event was enough to arouse these livelyfellows to the utmost; and they could not cease talking about it, andwondering about this strange little fiddler, and drinking with him, toexpress their friendliness. 

At last the landlady interposed. She brought a plate full of rice, and abig piece of chicken. She beckoned Rico aside, saying to the men theymust let him have a little quiet now; he needed food; he was as pale aschalk from excitement. She placed the dish upon a little table in onecorner, and encouraged him to eat heartily: she was sure he needed it, he was such a little scrap. To tell the truth, Rico did enjoy his supperwonderfully well. Since the coffee in the morning, not a mouthful hadpassed his lips; and so much had happened to excite him too. 

As soon as he had eaten all that there was upon his plate, his poorlittle eyes closed from fatigue, and he had the greatest difficultyin keeping them open long enough to answer the landlord's questionsof where he belonged, and where he was going, while he also praisedthe child's music. Rico answered that he belonged to nobody, and wasgoing nowhere. 

The landlord spoke kindly and encouragingly to the boy, telling him thathe should be cared for that night, and in the morning he could go to seeMrs. Menotti, who had sent him there. She was a good, kind woman, saidthe landlord, who could perhaps employ him in her household, if he hadno place to go to where he belonged. 

His wife, who stood by, plucked him constantly by the sleeve, trying tostop him from talking; but he finished what he had to say, nevertheless, for he had no idea what she meant by it all. 

Pretty soon the men at the tables began to clamor again: they werecalling for their song. 

The landlady, however, asserted herself. "No, no! on Sunday you shallhave it again; the child is tired to death. " So saying, she took Rico bythe hand, and led him up into a big room where the harnesses hung. A bigheap of corn lay in one corner, and a bed stood in the other. In a veryfew moments the boy was fast asleep. 

Later, when every thing had become quite silent in the house, thelandlord sat at the little table where Rico had eaten his supper, andbefore him stood his wife, for she was still busy in clearing away thetables; and she said with great earnestness, "You must not send him backagain to Mrs. Menotti. Such a boy as that will be most useful to me inevery possible way; and did not you notice how beautifully he fiddled?They were all crazy about it. Look out! he is a far better player thanany of our three; and he will learn to play for dancing in no time; andyou will have a musician to whom you need pay nothing, and who will playevery evening when they dance; and you can let him out also to go to theother places. Don't you let him slip through your fingers. He is apretty little fellow, and I like him. We must keep him ourselves. "

"Well, I am satisfied, " said the landlord, and understood that his wifehad made a hit this time that was sure to turn out well. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

NEW FRIENDSHIPS FORMED, WHILE THE OLD ONES ARE NOT FORGOTTEN. 

The next morning, the landlady of the "Golden Sun" stood on the doorstepof her inn, and looked at the heavens to read the signs of the probableweather, and to think over the experiences of the night before. Presently the gardener's boy from Mrs. Menotti's came along. He was bothmaster and servant over the lovely, fruitful property of Mrs. Menotti;for he understood both the care of the garden and the cultivation of thefarm, and he looked after and directed all the work himself, and had aneasy and good place with her. He was contented, and whistledincessantly. 

However, while he stood before the landlady, he stopped for a little, and said, if the little musician of the evening before had not goneaway, he was to go over to Mrs. Menotti again, because her little boywanted to hear him fiddle some more. 

"Yes, yes; if Mrs. Menotti is not in a great hurry, "--while she put herarms on her hips, to show that she, at any rate, was not pressed fortime. "At the present moment the little musician is sleeping upstairs inhis good bed; and I, for one, do not wish to have him disturbed. You maysay to Mrs. Menotti that I will send him to her presently. He is notgoing away. I have taken him under my charge for good and all; for he isa deserted orphan, and does not know where to go; and now he will bewell cared for, " added she, with emphasis. 

The gardener went off with this message. 

Rico was allowed to sleep as long as he wanted to; for the landlady wasa good-natured woman, though, to be sure, she thought first of her ownprofit, and afterwards was willing to help others to theirs. When theboy awoke, at last, from his long sleep, his fatigue had quitedisappeared; and he came running down the stairs as fresh as possible. The landlady made a sign for him to come into the kitchen, and placed abig bowl of coffee before him, with a nice yellow corn-cake, saying, --

"You can have this every morning, if you will, and something much betterat dinner and supper time; for then there is cooking for the guests, andthere is always something left over. You can do errands for me in returnfor it; and you can make this your home, and have your bedroom toyourself, and not be obliged to go wandering about in the world. Now itlies with you to decide. "

To this Rico replied, simply, --

"Yes, I will;" for he could say that in the language in which thelandlady spoke. 

Now she conducted him through the whole house, through theout-buildings, the stable, into the vegetable-garden and the hen-house;and she explained the situation of all the places to him, and told himwhere he must turn to go to the grocer and to the shoemaker, and to allthe important trades-people in fact. Rico listened attentively; and, totest his understanding, the landlady sent him at once to three or fourplaces, to fetch a variety of things, such as oil, soap, thread, and aboot that had been mended; for she noticed that the boy could say singlewords perfectly well. 

All these errands were done to her perfect satisfaction; and at last shesaid, "Now you may go over to Mrs. Menotti with your fiddle, and staythere until the evening. "

Rico was delighted at this permission; for he would pass by the lake, and see the beautiful flowers he loved so well. 

As soon as he reached the lake-side, over he ran to the little bridge, and seated himself there to watch the beautiful water, and themountains bathed in golden mist; and he could scarcely tear himselfaway from it all. 

But he did; for he realized now that he had duties toward the landlady, and must obey her, because she gave him food and lodging. 

As he entered the garden, the little boy heard his footstep, for thedoor was always open; and he called out, --

"Come here, and play some more. "

Mrs. Menotti came out, and gave her hand kindly to Rico, and drew himinto the room with her. It was a large room, and you could look throughthe wide doorway out into the garden where the flowers were to be seen. The little bed on which the sick child lay was directly opposite thedoor; and there were only chests and tables and chairs in the room, butno other beds. At night the child was carried into the neighboring room, and his bed also, and was placed there beside his mother for the night;and in the morning he was carried back again, bed and all. For in thislarge room the sun shone brightly, making long shining stripes acrossthe floor that made a dancing pattern on the ground, and amused thechild amazingly. Near the bed stood two little crutches; and now andthen his mother lifted the little cripple from his bed, placed thecrutches under his arms, and led him about the room once or twice; forhe could not walk, nor even stand alone. His little legs were quiteparalyzed, and he had never been able to use them at all. 

When Rico entered the room, the child pulled himself into a sittingposition by means of a long rope that hung down over his bed from theceiling for that purpose; for he could not sit up without assistance. 

Rico went to the bedside, and looked at the child in silence. Suchlittle thin arms and small slender fingers, and such a pale little face, Rico had never seen; and two big eyes looked forth from the face, andgazed at Rico as if they would pierce him through and through; for thechild, who seldom saw any thing new, and longed for variety with all hisheart, examined every thing that came in his way very sharply. 

"What is your name?" asked the child. 

"Rico. "

"Mine is Silvio. How old are you?"

"Almost eleven. "

"And so am I, " said the child. 

"O Silvio! what are you saying?" said his mother at this. "You are notquite four yet. Time does not go so fast as that. "

"Play something more. "

The mother seated herself by the bedside. Rico placed himself at alittle distance, and began to play on his fiddle. Silvio could not haveenough of it; and no sooner had Rico finished one piece than he shouted, "Play another. " Six times each, at the very least, had all the piecesbeen repeated, when Mrs. Menotti went out, and returned with a platefilled with yellow grapes, saying that Rico ought to rest, and sit downby the bedside, and eat some grapes with Silvio. 

She went out into the garden herself while the children were eating, andwas glad to be able to do so, and to attend to various little matters ofher own; for it was seldom that she could leave the bedside of herlittle cripple, for he would not let her leave him, and cried bitterlyfor her to return; so it was a real blessing to her to be able to getaway for a few moments. 

The two boys soon came to a most excellent understanding of each other;for Rico could reply very well to Silvio's questions, and managed tomake himself very well understood, even when he could not find exactlythe proper words, and it was very amusing to Silvio to talk with him. His mother had plenty of time to look at all the flower-beds, and toexamine the fine fig-trees in the orchard, and to overlook every thing, without being called for once by her little boy. 

When she returned to the house, however, and Rico arose to take hisdeparture, Silvio set up a great shout, and clung to Rico with bothhands, and would not let him go until he had promised to come back thenext day, and every day. But Mrs. Menotti was a cautious woman. She hadunderstood the message sent by the landlady as it was intended, andquieted her son, promising him to go herself to the landlady to talkwith her; because Rico, she said, was not able to promise to do anything himself, but must obey the landlady in every thing. At last thechild released Rico, and gave him his hand; and the latter reluctantlyleft the room. He would have vastly preferred to remain there where itwas quiet and neat, and where Silvio and his mother were so kind to him. 

Several days had slipped by, when, towards evening, Mrs. Menotti madeher appearance, dressed in her best attire, in the doorway of the"Golden Sun;" and the landlady ran joyfully to meet her, and led her upinto the upper hall. When they were there, Mrs. Menotti asked verypolitely if it would inconvenience the landlady very much to allow Ricoto come over to her two or three times in the week towards evening, hewas so amusing, and entertained her little sick son so well. She wouldgladly recompense the landlady in any way she might think desirable. 

It flattered the landlady to have the handsomely dressed Mrs. Menottithus asking a favor of her; and it was quickly arranged that Rico shouldgo to Mrs. Menotti on every free evening that he had; and in return, Mrs. Menotti promised to provide the orphan's clothing, which pleasedthe landlady extremely; for now she had really nothing to pay out forthe little boy, and he brought her in a great deal of money. So it wasarranged to the entire satisfaction of the two women, and they tookleave of each other in very friendly terms. 

In this way passed many days. Rico could soon speak Italian as if he hadalways spoken it. And, in truth, he had once spoken it as his nativelanguage, so one thing after another came back to him; and as he had agood ear, he soon spoke exactly like an Italian born, so that all whoknew him to be a stranger wondered at him. He was very useful to thelandlady, --more so even than she had expected would be the case, --for hewas so neat and orderly: quite as much so as she herself, if not more, for she was not very patient over her work; and when preparations werenecessary for a _fête_ or for a wedding, Rico was called upon to do it, for he had a great deal of taste, and knew how to carry it out indecorations. If he had any errand to do abroad he was back again in anincredibly short time, for he never stopped to chatter by the way. Ifpeople questioned him, he always turned on his heel and left them. Thispleased the landlady mightily when she noticed it, and it created such afeeling of respect for the lad in her mind, that she herself did notquestion him; and so it came to pass that, indeed, nobody really knewhow he came to Peschiera. But a story was spread abroad, that everybodybelieved, to the effect that he had been left an orphan withoutprotection in the mountains, and neglected and mishandled, so that atlast he ran away, suffering many things on the long journey until hereached Peschiera, where the inhabitants were not rough as they are inthe mountains, and that he was glad to remain there with them. Wheneverthe landlady told his story, she did not fail to add, "He deserves it, too, --all the kindness that we show him, and his comfortable home underour roof. "

Now the first "dance Sunday" of the season had come, and such anenormous crowd of guests assembled in the "Golden Sun, " that thereseemed a great doubt if they could all be accommodated there; buteverybody wished to see and to hear the little stranger who played sowonderfully; and also they who had heard him on the evening of hisarrival were the very first to come, and were impatient for him to playtheir song again. 

The landlady ran hither and thither in her excitement, and glowed andglistened in her heat, as if she were herself the "Golden Sun;" andwhen she met her husband, she always said triumphantly, "Did not Itell you so?"

Rico heard "dance music" for the first time played by the threefiddlers who came to the inn; but he caught the melodies at once, andhad no trouble in playing them, and never forgot them, for they were sooften repeated during the long "dance evening, " that they became veryfamiliar to him. 

After the dancing they wanted their Peschiera song, with Rico'saccompaniment; and even if there seemed to be a deal of noise all theearly part of the evening, now, in truth, it had really just begun; andthey became so excited that little quiet Rico was frightened, andthought they would end by killing each other certainly. 

But it was all in friendly wise. He came in for his share, and was sostormily applauded, and his musical performance was hailed with suchear-splitting cries of approval, that his only thought at last was, "Oh, when will this have an end!" for nothing was so very unpleasant to theboy as boisterousness. 

In the evening the landlady said to her husband, "Did you notice Ricocould play all the pieces with the musicians? Next time we shall onlyneed two fiddlers. " And the man replied, well pleased, "We must giveRico something. "

Two days later there was a dance in Desenzano, and Rico was sent overthere with the fiddlers. Now he was let out for hire. The same noiseand merriment was repeated; and, although they did not call for thePeschiera song in Desenzano, still there were plenty of other songsjust as noisy, and Rico thought only from beginning to end, "If it werebut over!"

He brought a whole pocketful of money home with him, which he poured outin a heap on the table without even counting it, for he thought it wasall the landlady's by right; and she praised him in return, and placed abig piece of apple-pie before him for supper. On Sunday again there wasdancing in Riva; but this was a pleasure to Rico, for Riva was the spotover across the lake which could be seen from Peschiera, looking like apeaceful little bay, and where the pretty white houses looked sofriendly and attractive. 

The musicians were rowed all together across the lake in an open boatunder the clear heavens; and Rico thought, "Oh, if I could be rowedacross here, with Stineli by my side! How astonished she would be at thelake, whose beauty she would not believe in. "

But once on the other shore, the noise began again, and the boy becameimpatient to be off; for the view of Riva from across the lake, lying inthe lovely light of evening, was far more beautiful than being there inthe midst of the noise and tumult. 

However, when there were no dances at which he must play, the lad wasalways allowed to go in the evening to little Silvio, and to remain aslong as he wished; for the landlady was anxious to show her willingnessto accommodate Mrs. Menotti. This was always a pleasure to Rico. Whenever he passed along the lake-side, he went over to the littlestone bridge, and sat there for a while on the ground; for this was theonly place in the world where he had a home-like feeling, because whathe saw there he had seen before, and also here the vision of his motherrose most clearly before his memory. 

There she had certainly stood by the water-side, and washedsomething, while she would look around at him occasionally, and say afew loving words; and he was always sitting, he remembered, in thatvery place where he now sat. He was always most unwilling to leavethis spot, but the knowledge that Silvio was constantly listening forhim drove him onward. 

When he entered the garden, he had also a feeling of contentment; andentered the neat, quiet house with pleasure. Mrs. Menotti had a moretruly friendly manner toward him than anybody else, and he was fullysensible of her kindness. She felt the warmest pity for the lonelyorphan, as she called him; for she had also heard the story of hisescape as it was current in the neighborhood. She never asked himquestions concerning his life in the mountains, however; for shethought it would arouse sad memories in his mind. She felt, also, thatRico did not receive the care that a lad of his age and quietdisposition really needed; but she was sensible that she could donothing in that direction, only to have him with her as often and aslong as possible. Often she would place her hand on his head, sayingsadly, "Poor little orphan!"

To Silvio, Rico grew more and more necessary every day. Early in themorning he began to fret for him; and when his pain came on he becamevery restless, and could not be pacified until Rico came. For, sinceRico had mastered the language thoroughly, he had developed aninexhaustible fund of stories that delighted the little invalidbeyond measure. 

Stineli was the theme on which Rico most often fell, and it made him sohappy even to talk about her, that he became animated and quitetransfigured in the recital. He knew hundreds of stories, such as whenStineli caught little Sami by the leg, once on a time, just as he wasabout to fall into the water-butt, and how she held him with all hermight, while they both screamed as loud as they could until their fathercame slowly to their aid, --for he always moved slowly. He said thatchildren did nothing but scream: it was their nature, and did not meanthat they were in trouble. And he told Silvio how Stineli could cut outfigures from paper for Peterli, make all sorts of furniture and thingsfor the baby-house for Urschli from moss, and bits of wood, or any thingthat came to hand. 

And how they all called and clamored for their elder sister when theywere ill, because she told them such wonderful stories that they quiteforgot their pains while listening. Rico also told the story of hisbeautiful walks with Stineli, and became so much excited in his talkthat Silvio caught the inspiration, and asked for more and more, callingout, "Tell me about Stineli again!" as soon as Rico paused to takebreath. One evening the child broke out into the wildest excitement whenRico took his leave, saying that he would not be able to come on thefollowing day nor on Sunday. Silvio shrieked for his mother as if thehouse were burning, and he were in the midst of the flames; and as shecame hurrying to him from the garden, almost frightened to death at hisnoise, he declared "Rico should _not_ go again back to the inn; but muststay always, always with them. You must stay here, Rico. You must never, never go away!"

But Rico said, "I would stay most gladly; but I cannot. "

Mrs. Menotti was much perplexed. She knew very well how valuable Rico'sservices were to the inn-keepers, and that she could never obtain himunder any consideration. She tried to silence her little son to the bestof her ability, while she drew Rico to her side, saying, as was herwont, "Poor little orphan!" Whereupon Silvio called out angrily, "Whatis an orphan? I want to be an orphan too. "

These words aroused his mother; and she cried out, in her turn, "Silvio, you wicked child! Do you know that an orphan is a wretched child, whohas neither father nor mother, and no home on all the earth?"

Rico's black eyes were fixed on Mrs. Menotti's face, and then seemed togrow blacker and more black every minute; but she did not notice them. She had ceased to think about the lad while she was giving thisexplanation of an orphan to her son. The little fellow slipped quietlyand unperceived away. 

When Mrs. Menotti observed his absence, she thought he had stolen awayin order not to excite Silvio further by taking leave, and she waspleased at his thoughtfulness. Seating herself by the bedside of herchild, she said, "I want to make you understand how it is, Silvio; andthen you will stop being so naughty, I hope. It is not possible to takea child away from any one; and, even if I took Rico from the landlady, she would have a right to come and take you away from me. Then you wouldnot be able to see the garden nor the flowers any more, and would haveto sleep quite alone in the room with the harnesses where Rico dislikesso much to sleep. Don't you remember what he has told you about that?What would you do then?"

"Come right home again, " said the child decidedly; but he was quitestill after that, and soon lay down and slept. 

Rico passed through the garden, along the street, and down to the lake. There he sat down on his favorite spot, leaned his head upon his hands, and said, in tones of utter despair, "Now I know the truth, mother. NowI know that I have no home, --none in the whole world. "

And there he sat until late in the night, alone with his sad thoughts;and would have rather remained there forever, but he was obliged to goback into his uncomfortable bedroom at last. 

CHAPTER XV. 

SILVIO'S WISHES PRODUCE RESULTS. 

But the excitement had not subsided in Silvio's mind, by any means; andnow that he knew that two days must elapse before Rico could come again, he began to cry early in the morning, "Rico won't come to-day! Ricowon't come to-day!" and scarcely ceased until the evening; and thesecond day it was the same, but on the third, --he was tired out by thattime, and seemed like a little heap of straw, that the least spark couldhave reduced to ashes. 

In the evening Rico made his appearance, quite worn out with the noiseand tumult of the dances for which he had been obliged to play. Since hehad fully realized that he had no home on the earth, the thought ofStineli had become of more importance than ever, and he said tohimself, --

"There is only Stineli in the whole world to whom I belong, or whotroubles her head about me!" And he felt a terrible homesickness forStineli. He had scarcely reached the side of Silvio's bed when he said, "Do you know, Silvio, with Stineli only can one feel perfectly well, andnowhere else. " These words were scarcely out of his mouth before thelittle invalid hoisted himself up like a flash, calling out at the topof his lungs, "Mother, I must have Stineli; Stineli must come; only withStineli can one feel perfectly well, and nowhere else. "

His mother came at his call; and as she had often listened to Rico'sstories about Stineli and her brothers and sisters with great interest, she knew at once what they were talking about, and replied, "Yes, yes;it would suit me very well. I could find great use for Stineli for you, and for myself, if I only had her here. "

But such an indefinite way of talking did not suit Silvio in the least, for he was interested, heart and soul, in the matter. 

"You can have her at once, " he cried out. "Rico knows where she is: hemust go to fetch her. I want her every day, and always. To-morrow Ricomust go to get her: he knows where. "

Now that his mother saw that the little fellow had thought the wholething out, and was really in serious earnest about it, she tried to turnhis attention away, and to introduce other thoughts into his mind, forshe had often heard the story of the incredible adventures Rico passedthrough on his journey over the mountains, and of the wonder of hishaving survived and come down safely, and that the mountaineer were afearful and wild people. She was, therefore, fully persuaded that nobodycould bring a girl away, and certainly not a tender little lad likeRico. He might meet a sad fate, and be lost altogether, if he attemptedany thing of the kind; and then she would be responsible for it all. Shewould not run that risk, --she thought she had enough to bear already. 

So she placed all the impossibility of the affair before Silvio's eyes, and told him of the terrible circumstances, and of the wicked men whomRico would have to encounter, and who might ruin him. But nothing hadthe slightest effect. The little fellow had set his heart upon thisthing as he never had upon any thing before; and whatever his motherbrought forward, and no matter how anxiously she insisted, the momentshe ceased the child said, "Rico must go to fetch her: he knows where tofind her. "

Then his mother replied, "And even if he does know, do you mean to saythat he would run the risk and go into such dangerous places, when hecan live comfortably as he does here, and never have to do with anywicked men again?"

Then Silvio looked at Rico, and said, "Will you go to fetch Stineli, Rico, or not?"

"Yes; I will, " said Rico firmly. 

"Oh, merciful heavens! now Rico is getting unmanageable too, " cried themother, quite horrified. "And now I do not know what to do. Take yourfiddle, Rico, and play something, and sing; I must go into the garden. "And the good woman ran quickly forth into the garden under thefig-trees, for she thought that her little son would forget the thingmore quickly if he had not a chance to talk to her about it. 

But the two good friends within neither played nor sang, but excitedeach other almost to fever point with all kinds of representations ofhow Stineli should be brought there, and of what would happen afterwardswhen she had fairly arrived. Rico utterly forgot to take his leave, although it was quite dark; and Mrs. Menotti purposely remained in thegarden, thinking that Silvio would soon fall asleep. At last, however, she did come in, and Rico took his departure at once; but she had a badtime of it with Silvio, after all. He positively would not close hiseyes until his mother promised that Rico should go to fetch Stineli; butshe could not make any such promise, and the little fellow did not ceaseinsisting until his mother said, "Be quiet, now; the night will setevery thing straight. " For she thought in the night he will forget hisnotion, as had often been the case, and he will have some other fancy. 

At last the child was quiet and slept; but his mother had miscalculatedthe affair. Scarcely was it dawn when the little fellow called out fromhis bed, "Is every thing set straight now, mother?"

As it was impossible for her to reply in the affirmative to thisquestion, the storm broke out again, and a more violent one than she hadever experienced before with her little boy, and lasted through thewhole day quite late into the evening; and on the following day the samething recommenced. 

Silvio had never been so persistent in any fancy before. When hescreamed and cried she was able to bear it; but when the hours of painand suffering came, and the child went on whining and complaining in themost touching manner, saying, "One only feels perfectly well with Stineli, and nowhere else, " that cuthis mother to the heart, and seemed like a reproach to her, as if shewould not do something that might make him well again; but how could shepossibly even think of it?

She had heard herself Rico's answer to Silvio when he asked if he knewhow to go to Stineli. It was, --

"No, I do not know the way; but I can easily find one. "

She went on hoping day after day that Silvio would take up some newwhim, as had always before been the case: she had never found itotherwise. If he had wished for something when he was well, he hadalways given it up when his pain came on. But it was quite differentthis time, and there really was a reason too. Rico's stories and remarksabout his friend Stineli had taken firm possession of the mind of theover-sensitive child; and he believed that nothing would hurt him again, if she were only by his side. So Silvio went on day after day inincreasing distress; and his mother did not know where to turn forcounsel and support. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

COUNSEL THAT BRINGS JOY TO MANY. 

In all this trouble and uncertainty it was a real comfort to Mrs. Menotti to see the long black coat of the kind-hearted old priest, who had not been to visit her for a long time, coming through thegarden gate. 

She sprang up from her seat, crying out joyfully, "Look, Silvio; therecomes the dear, good priest!" and went towards him. But Silvio, in hisanger over every thing, said, as loud as he could, "I would rather itwere Stineli!"

Then he crept quickly under the coverlet, so that the priest need notknow where the voice came from. His mother, however, was dreadfullyshocked, and begged the good man, who now entered the room, not to takeoffence at this greeting, as it was not really so bad as it sounded. 

Silvio did not stir, but said softly, under the bed-cover, --

"I really mean just what I say. "

The father must have had a suspicion of where the voice came from. Hestepped at once to the bedside; and, though there was not a hair ofSilvio's head even to be seen, he said, "God bless you, my son! how areyou? How is your health nowadays? and why do you creep into this hiddenhole like a little badger? Come out, and explain it all to me. What doyou mean by Stineli?"

Now Silvio crept forth, for he had the priest in great respect now thathe was so close to him. He stretched out his little thin hand ingreeting, and said, "Rico's Stineli, I mean. "

His mother now interposed with the explanation, for the father shook hishead very doubtfully as he seated himself by the bedside. The good womanrelated the whole affair about Stineli, and told how her little boy hadgot the idea firmly fixed in his noddle that he would never be wellagain unless this Stineli could come to him; and how even Rico hadbecome unreasonable, and declared that he could go to fetch Stineli, even though he did not know a single stock nor stone of the way; and itwas such a long journey up into the mountains, moreover, and it wasimpossible to realize what horrible people they were who lived up there. But it proved how very bad they must be when a tender little fellow likeRico preferred to incur the great danger of the journey than to remainamong such rude folk. "If it were practicable, " however, added Mrs. Menotti, "no money would seem to me wasted that would procure me such agirl to quiet Silvio's longing, and to have some one to help take careof him;" for sometimes she had almost too much to endure, and felt as ifshe must give up altogether. And Rico, who was usually very discreet inhis conversation, was of the opinion that nobody could help her so muchnor so well in every way as this same Stineli. He ought to know her verywell, too; and certainly, if she really corresponded to his description, it would be a great escape for such a girl to get away from themountains; but she did not know of anybody who would do them such afavor as to bring her. 

To all this discourse the kind priest lent an attentive ear in profoundsilence, until Mrs. Menotti had quite finished. Indeed, he could nothave got a word in edgewise if he had been inclined; for the good womanhad not opened her heart for a long time, and it was so full that italmost choked her when she gave her words full expression, and she quitelost her breath. 

Now quiet reigned for a while, then the good man began very calmly tosmoke his second pipe; and presently he said, "H--m, h--m, Mrs. Menotti;I rather think you have an impression of the mountaineers that isdecidedly exaggerated. There are good Christians there as elsewhere; andnow that there are so many ways of doing things discovered, it would bealso quite possible to get up there without danger. We must bethinkourselves about that, and find out about it. "

After this opinion, the priest stopped to refresh himself a little fromhis snuffbox; then he went on:--

"There are all sorts of trades-people who are always coming down toBergamo, --sheep and horse dealers: they know the road well enough, ofcourse. We can obtain information, and then bethink ourselves: we canfind a way sooner or later. It you are in earnest about it, Mrs. Menotti, I will look about a little. I go every year once or twice toBergamo, and I will take the thing in hand for you. "

Mrs. Menotti was so filled with gratitude at this promise, that wordsutterly failed her that were, in her opinion, adequate to express herthanks. Suddenly all the heavy thoughts had vanished that had oppressedher day and night for such a long time past, and in which she wasgetting more and more involved the more she puzzled over them, so thatat the last she saw no hope of a decision. Now the Father took thewhole burden upon himself, and she could refer her troublesome littleSilvio to him. 

While this conference was taking place, the little invalid had almostpierced the priest through with his great gray eyes, so great was hisinterest in what they said. When the priest arose, and held his handtowards the child to say good-by, the little thin fingers were pressedinto his big palm as if he were making a firm contract. 

The father gave his promise to bring tidings as soon as he had obtainedthe necessary information; and then they could decide whether the thingcould be done, or whether Silvio must give up his wish altogether. 

Week after week slipped by, but Silvio did not waver. He had a firmground of hope now by which to hold; and, moreover, Rico had become solively and amusing, that he was hardly to be recognized. It acted uponhim like a spark that kindled a joyful bonfire when he learned thepriest's comforting words; and a new life was awakened in the lad. Heknew more stories to tell Silvio than ever before; and when he took hisfiddle in his hand, he produced such heart-stirring tones and tunes, that Mrs. Menotti could not tear herself from the room where the boyswere, and was full of astonishment at Rico's store of music. 

It was only in this room at Mrs. Menotti's that Rico fully enjoyed hisinstrument. It sounded so well in the large, lofty space, where it wasquiet and peaceful, without a taint of tobacco-smoke, or the clamor ofnoisy men; and he was not confined to dance music, but at liberty toplay as his fancy directed. Every day he went with increasing pleasureto Mrs. Menotti's, and often said to himself, as he entered, "This isthe way it must feel when one is entering his own home. "

But it was not his home: he only was permitted to go there for a littlewhile, and away again. 

There had come over Rico a very decided change within a short time; andthe landlady, who perceived it clearly, was greatly perplexed thereby. When she placed a nasty broken pail of refuse before him, saying, "There, Rico, carry this to the hens, " he would step aside a little, puthis hands behind his back, to show that he did not mean to touch thepail, and say quietly, "I prefer that some one else should do that;" andwhen she brought out an old pair of shoes and handed them to him tocarry to the cobbler, he did the same, saying. "I prefer that you shouldgive them to another person to carry. "

Now the landlady was a clever woman, and knew how to put two and twotogether; and it had not escaped her that Rico was quite another personwithin a short time, and looked very differently too. Mrs. Menotti hadalways dressed him very nicely since she had undertaken that office; butwhen she observed how well his clothes became him, and what an air ofreal gentility he had, she used finer materials than at first; and thelad always took good care of his person and his dress, for he detesteduncleanliness and disorder, both on his own appearance and in hissurroundings. All of this was not unnoticed, nor did she ever forgetthat even as Rico had poured out his pocketful of gold upon the tablebefore her after his first "dance evening, " so had he continued to dofaithfully, and not so much as looked as if he would like to keep onebit for himself. 

He brought more and more each time; for it was not only for his dancemusic that he was called so often, but because of his songs, that werevery popular. 

And the landlady recognized that it was her best policy to treat himalways kindly and well; and she did not trouble him about the hens northe shoes, and required such little services from him no more. 

It was now three years since Rico made his first entry into Peschiera. He was now a tall, fourteen-year old stripling, and whoever laid eyesupon him found him pleasing to look upon. 

Once again the golden sun of autumn burnished the surface of the Lake ofGarda, and the heavens lay blue above the tranquil waves. In the gardenthe great bunches of grapes hung gold against the trellises, and the redflowers of the oleander glistened in the sunbeams. 

It was quiet in Silvio's room, for his mother was without in the gardengathering grapes and figs for the evening. The invalid lay listeningfor Rico's step, for this was the time of his usual visit. The wicketopened: Silvio pulled himself up in his bed. A long black coat cameslowly toward the door, --it was the priest. Silvio did not think ofhiding himself this time. He stretched out his little arm as far as hewas able, to shake hands with the good man, before he had fairlyentered the room. 

This welcome pleased the priest, who walked at once into the room, andto the child's bedside, even though he saw Mrs. Menotti's form behindhim in the garden. 

"This is right, my son, " he said. "And how do you find yourself?"

"All right, " said Silvio quickly; and, looking eagerly at the good man, he added softly, "When may Rico go?"

Seating himself by the bedside, the good man said, a little pompously, "To-morrow, at five o'clock, Rico will start, my son. "

Mrs. Menotti entered as he was speaking, and it was with some difficultythat the priest could quiet her enough to get a chance to tell his storyin a consecutive way, and to make himself understood; and all the timehe was speaking, Silvio's eyes were fixed upon his face like a littlesparrow-hawk. 

He had come directly from Bergamo, where he had passed two days. He hadmade all the necessary arrangements with a horse-trader, --a friend ofhis who had been travelling, for thirty years or more, every autumn, andknew the way over the mountains that Rico must take. He knew, also, howthe journey could be made without leaving the coach, or sleeping by theway. He was going there himself, and would take Rico under his charge, if the lad would go to Bergamo by the early train. The man knew all thedrivers and conductors, also; and would arrange for his and hiscompanion's return, and recommend them so well that there would be notrouble or danger. 

The Father was convinced that there was no hindrance to Rico's going inperfect safety, and gave his blessing to the undertaking. 

As he stood by the garden-hedge, after saying good-by to Silvio, Mrs. Menotti, who had accompanied him thus far, detained him for a moment, toask again, full of sudden anxiety, "Oh, there will not be any danger tohis life, I hope? Nor that he may lose his way, and go wandering aboutin the mountains? You do not think that possible, do you, Father?" Butthe good man quieted her fears; and she returned to the house, thinkingof what there remained to do for Rico, who entered the garden at thismoment, and was greeted by such a startling cry of joy from Silvio, thathe reached the bedside in three leaps to find out what it all meant. 

"What is the matter? What ails you?" Rico kept asking; and Silviorepeated, "I will tell you, I will tell you!" until, in real anxiety, his mother came to his aid. Soon, however, she left the boys to enjoytheir happiness together; and went about her business, which she thoughtvery important. She fetched a portmanteau, and placed a huge piece ofsmoked meat first of all at the bottom, then a half loaf of bread, a bigparcel of preserved plums and figs, and a bottle of wine, carefullywrapped in a cloth. Then came the clothes, --two shirts and a pair ofshoes, two pair of stockings, and pocket-handkerchiefs; for it seemedalways to Mrs. Menotti as if Rico were going to the farthermost part ofthe world; and she only now fully realized how dearly she loved the lad, for she felt that she could not get on without him. 

All the while, as she was packing, she would pause, sit down, and say toherself, anxiously, "Oh, I do hope there will not be an accident!"

Presently she brought the portmanteau down-stairs, and counselled Ricoto go at once and explain to the landlady how every thing had happened;and to ask if she would allow him to go, and not oppose it; andafterwards Rico was to carry the portmanteau to the station. 

The boy was in the greatest surprise over his portmanteau. He obeyed insilence, as usual, however, and went to the landlady. He explained toher that he was going back to the mountains to bring Stineli back withhim, and that the priest had arranged it so that he was to start on thefollowing morning at five o'clock. 

It produced a feeling of respect at once in the mind of the landladywhen she found that the priest was at the head of the business. But shenaturally wished to know who this Stineli might be, and what the ideawas in fetching her; for she hoped it might be on her account. 

She only found out that Stineli was a girl whose name was Stineli, andthat she was coming to Mrs. Menotti. So she let the thing go; for shewould not interfere, for the world, with that lady's wishes. She wasonly too glad that Rico had been left to her for so long. She took itfor granted that Stineli was Rico's sister, only that he had not saidso, because he never did say any thing about his family. 

So she told all the guests in the inn that evening that Rico was goingto bring his sister down to Peschiera, because he had found out how wellthey all lived there. 

In order to show how highly she held the lad in respect, she had a bigbasket brought down from the attic, and filled it with sausages andcheese, and slices of bread, and eggs, saying, --

"You must not get hungry on the way; and what is left over, you can eatwhile you are there. It will not be too much; and coming back, you willneed something too. You are certainly coming back, Rico, are you not?"

"Certainly, " replied the lad. "In eight days I shall be back again. "

In Mrs. Menotti's hands he placed his beloved fiddle, for he would nothave trusted it to any one else; and then he took his leave for eightdays, for he could easily be back again in that time, if every thingwent well. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

BACK AGAIN OVER THE MOUNTAINS. 

Full of impatience, Rico stood at the station long before the appointedtime, and could scarcely be quiet while waiting for the train. Again hetook his seat in the carriage, as he had done three years before, butnot now crouched timidly in a corner with his violin in his hand. Hetook a whole seat for himself this time; for he placed his portmanteauand his basket next him, and they took up a deal of room. He met thehorse-dealer in Bergamo without difficulty, and they travelled along inthe same carriage together, and then across the lake. When they left theboat they went towards the inn, where the big post-wagon stood with thehorses already harnessed. It all came back to Rico's memory with greatdistinctness, --how he had stood there in the night, quite alone, afterthe students had all gone their ways; and opposite he espied thestable-door where he had seen the lantern hanging, and had found thefriendly sheep-dealer again. It was evening now; and they took theirplaces at once in the coach, and went towards the mountain. Rico satwithin, this time, with his companion, and had scarcely settled himselfcomfortably in his corner when his eyes closed and he slept; for he hadnot slept an hour on the preceding night, so great had been hisexcitement. Now he made it up, without once awakening, until the sunstood high in the heavens, and the coach moved very slowly; and when hestuck his head out of the window, he saw, to his utter astonishment, that they were ascending the zigzag road up the Maloja, that was sofamiliar to him from his childhood. 

He could not see much from the window, --only a turning in the road nowand then; but now he did want to see everything that lay about them. Atlast the coach stopped: they had reached the summit. There was the inn, there the spot where he had sat and talked with the driver. All thepassengers got out for a moment, and the horses were fed. Rico alsodescended, and asked very humbly of the driver if he might be allowed totake a seat on the box with him. 

"Will you let me climb up there, and ride as far as Sils?" he asked. 

"Up with you!" said the coachman. They all took their places, andmerrily rolled the coach down the smooth road and along the level way. Now they reached the lake. Yonder lay the wooded peninsula, and therethe white houses of Sils, and beyond was Sils Maria. The little churchshone in the morning sunshine, and over towards the mountain were twocottages. Rico's heart began to beat wildly. Where was Stineli? A fewsteps farther, and the coach stood still in Sils. 

Stineli had suffered a great deal since her friend's disappearance. Thechildren were larger, and the work ever increasing; and the greater partfell to her share, for she was the eldest of the children, and theyoungest of the rest of the family; so the cry was always, "Stineli cando this: she is old enough now;" and presently, "Stineli must look afterthat, she is so young. " She had no one with whom to share her pleasuressince Rico's departure, even if she had a moment to herself. 

Her good grandmother had died the year before, and from that timeforward the girl had no relaxation whatever; but from morning to eveningthere was nothing but incessant toil. 

She never lost heart, however, although she had wept bitterly over theloss of her grandmother; and every day the thought arose several timesin her mind, without her good grandmother and Rico the world was nolonger as beautiful as formerly. 

On a sunny Saturday morning she came out of the stable with a bigbundle of straw poised on her head. She meant to weave some nicebrushes, for the evening sweeping. The sun was shining all down thepathway towards Sils, and she stood gazing in that direction. Anunknown lad came along the road, --certainly no Silser, she thought; andyet as he drew near he stood still and looked at her, and she returnedhis gaze, and was much perplexed. In an instant, however, away went herbundle of straw, and she rushed forward towards the motionless figurebefore her, crying out, --

"O Rico! are you still alive? Have you come back again? But how big youare, Rico! I did not know you, at first; but as soon as I saw your face, then I was sure, --nobody has a face like yours. "

So Stineli stood with glowing cheeks before the lad; and he grew aswhite as chalk from excitement, and could not find words to speak hisjoy, but looked and looked at the girl. Presently he said, --

"You have grown, too, Stineli, but are not otherwise changed. The nearerI came to the house, the more anxious I got lest you might be altered. "

"Oh, to think that you are really here, Rico!" cried Stineli, joyfully. "Oh, if the grandmother only knew! But come in, Rico; they will all besurprised. " She ran on before to open the door, and Rico followed. 

The children hid themselves one behind the other; and their mother roseand greeted the lad as if he were a stranger, and asked what his wisheswere. Neither she nor the children had an idea who he was. Now Trudiand Sami came into the room, and bowed to him as they passed through. "Does not one of you know him?" said Stineli, at last. "Don't you seeit is Rico?"

They were astonished and full of their surprise when their father cameto his dinner. Rico advanced towards him, offering his hand, which theman took, but looked steadily at the strange lad. 

"Is it some kind of a relation?" he asked; for he was never very sureabout the members of the family who sometimes visited them. 

"Even the father does not know him, " said Stineli, rather vexed. 

"Why, it is Rico, father!"

"Well, well: that is good, " remarked he; and looked the lad well overfrom head to foot this time, adding, --

"You need not be ashamed to show yourself. Have you learned some sort ofa trade? Let us all be seated, and then you can tell us what hashappened to you. "

But Rico did not sit down at once: he kept looking towards the doorway. At last he asked, hesitatingly, --

"Where is the grandmother?"

"She lies over there in Sils, not far from the old schoolmaster, " wasthe reply. Rico had hesitated with his question, for he feared thiswould be the answer; he had noticed the grandmother's absence at once. He took his seat with the others at the table, but was silent for awhile, and could not eat a morsel: he had loved the grandmother dearly. However, the father wanted to hear his story, and to know what hadbecome of him on the day they all searched for him in the ravines, andwhat he had seen and done in the world. So the boy told all his story, and about Mrs. Menotti and Silvio; and explained distinctly that hewished to take Stineli back with him to Peschiera, if her parents wouldconsent. Stineli made very big eyes while her friend was talking: shehad not lost one word of his history. Her heart was as if on fire withjoy. To go to Rico's beautiful lake with him, to live with Mrs. Menottiand her sick son, who was so anxious for her to come, --that would behappiness indeed!

There was a long silence after this. Stineli's father never decidedhastily. At last he said, "It is true that when one goes among strangersthere is much to be learned; but I cannot let Stineli go, --there can beno question of that. She is needed here at home; but one of the othersmay go, --Trudi, perhaps. "

"Yes, yes: that will do, " said the mother. "I cannot get alongwithout Stineli. "

Then Trudi raised her head from her plate, and said, "That suits me verywell. There is nothing but children's racket here at home. "

Stineli did not speak. She only looked anxiously towards Rico, wonderingif he would not say any thing more since her father seemed so decided, and whether he would take Trudi with him as proposed. The lad, however, looked calmly at her father, saying, "No: that won't do at all. It isprecisely Stineli whom the sick boy Silvio wishes, and nobody else; andhe knows very well what he wants. He would only send Trudi home again, and she would have taken the journey for nothing. Mrs. Menotti told meto say, that if Stineli got on well with her son, she would give herevery month five gulden to send home to her family, if they cared forit; and I am sure that Stineli and Silvio will agree famously, --just assure as if I saw it with my own eyes now, " added the lad. 

Pushing his plate to one side, Stineli's father put his cap on his head. He had finished his dinner; and when he had some very severe thinking todo, he was always more comfortable with his cap on. It seemed to helphim to collect his thoughts. 

He thought, always in silence, how much labor he would have to performbefore he could earn even one good gulden; and he said to himself, "Fivegulden every month without lifting a finger. "

So he shoved his cap first on one side and then on the other; and said, at last, "She may go. One of the others can do the work in the house. "

Stineli's eyes sparkled, but the mother looked sadly at all the littleheads and plates. Who would keep them all nice and in order?

But the father's cap got another shove. Something else hadoccurred to him. 

"Stineli has not yet been confirmed, and ought to be before shegoes away. "

"I am not to be confirmed for two years yet, father, " said the girleagerly; "so that I can go away for two years perfectly well, and comeback quite in time for that. "

This was a good decision, and everybody was satisfied. The father andmother thought, even if every thing does go badly without Stineli, itwill only be for a while; and when she comes back again, all will bewell. And Trudi thought, "Just as soon as she comes back again, I willgo and then we shall see if I come back. "

But Rico and Stineli merely glanced at each other, and laughed withtheir eyes for pure joy. 

As the father looked upon the affair as settled, he rose from the table, saying, "She may go to-morrow: then we shall know where we stand. "

Her mother, on the contrary, objected to this, saying that it could notbe managed so quickly, and complained bitterly, until her father gavein, and said she should go the following Monday, and would not hear of alater date; for he thought that there would be a continual fuss untilthe departures were fairly over. 

Work there was now for Stineli in abundance. Rico understood that thismust be the case, and he addressed himself to Sami, and said he wouldlike to see whether every thing remained as formerly in Sils-Maria; andthat he had a sack and a basket to fetch from Sils, and perhaps Samiwould go with him to help him; so they went forth. 

Firstly, Rico paused before his former home, and gazed at the oldhouse-door and the hen-house. It was just as it had been. He asked Samiwho lived there now, --if his cousin were there, and alone. 

But he heard that the cousin had long ago gone away towards Silvaplana, and nobody knew any thing about her; for she had not shown her face inSils-Maria again. 

There were people living in the house, about whom Rico knew nothing. Everywhere that he went with Sami, from the old well-known houses andstables the people stared at him as if he were an utter stranger; notone of them recognized him in the least. 

As he crossed over, towards evening, to Sils, he turned aside a littletowards the churchyard. He wanted to see the grave where the oldgrandmother was buried; but Sami did not rightly know where she lay. 

They returned home just as it was growing dark, laden with basket andportmanteau. Stineli stood at the well, and brushed out the stablebuckets for the last time; and as Rico stood there by her side, shesaid, flushed with pleasure, and with her exertions over the pails, "Ican scarcely believe that it is true, Rico. "

"But I do, " said he so decidedly, that the girl looked at him surprised. "But of course, Stineli, " he added, "you have not been thinking it outthis long time as I have. "

There was a change in Rico that the girl noticed at once. Formerly hewould not have spoken in this firm and decided manner. 

They had arranged a bed for Rico up in the room under the roof. He carried his things up there, and meant to open them thefollowing morning. 

When they were all seated the next day at table, --a beautiful, clearSunday morning, --down came Rico, and poured out before Urschli andPeterli a big heap of plums and figs. The latter fruit they had neverseen at all; and the plums were finer than any that they were accustomedto; and his sausages and meat and eggs he placed in the middle of thetable. As soon as their admiration and surprise had a little subsided, they all fell to and ate with a wonderful relish, and the children weremunching the sweet figs quite late into the evening. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS. 

On Monday evening the journey was to begin. The horse-dealer hadimpressed this fact so thoroughly on Rico's memory, that there was not achance for a mistake. After the farewells were all said, Rico andStineli went towards Sils together, while her mother, with all thelittle children clustered about her, stood upon the doorstep and lookedafter them. 

Sami accompanied them to carry the portmanteau on his head, and Ricocarried the basket on one side, and Stineli held it on the other. Stineli's clothes had just filled it. 

When they reached the church in Sils, Stineli said, "Oh, if mygrandmother could only see us now! We will go to say good-by to her, Rico. " He was very willing, and told Stineli how he had already tried tofind the grave, but had not succeeded. 

The girl was better informed than her brother. 

When the post-wagon came along and stopped, the driver called out, "Arethe couple ready who are to go down to the Lake of Garda? I was askingfor them yesterday. "

The horse-dealer had given them a good recommendation; and the drivercalled out that they should climb up to the top: the others had found ittoo cold. "You are younger, " he said. 

So saying, he helped them up to the seats behind the box, and took outa thick horse-blanket, and wrapped them up snugly therein; and offthey went. 

For the first time since they had come together again, the two youngpeople were alone, and could talk freely and undisturbed, and tell eachother how they had passed the three long years since they parted. Andthey chattered away happily under the starry heavens, never thinking ofsleep in their joy at being together. 

Towards morning they reached the lake, and arrived in Peschiera at thesame hour as Rico had before arrived, and walked along the road to thelake-side. But Rico did not wish his companion to see the lake until shehad reached the spot he called his own; so he led her through the treesuntil they came to the little stone bridge in the open. 

There lay the lake in the light of the setting sun; and the children satside by side on the little mound, and gazed across the water. 

There it was, just as Rico had described it, but more, much more lovely;for such colors Stineli had never seen before. 

She looked about her towards the purple mountains, across the goldenwaters, and she cried out with all her heart, "Yes, it is finer than theLake of Sils. "

But Rico felt that it had never yet been so exquisitely beautiful as onthis evening when he and Stineli saw it together. 

Rico had another secret joy that he cherished in his heart. Howsurprised Silvio and his mother would be to see them! Nobody hadexpected them back so soon. Nobody would look for them before the end ofthe week, and now there they sat by the lake-side. 

They did not quit the little mound until the sun had fairly disappeared. 

Rico pointed out to his companion the spot where his mother stoodwashing something in the lake, and how he used to sit waiting until shehad finished; and then he told how they walked back together, hand inhand, over the little bridge. 

"But where did you go when you went back?" asked Stineli. "Have younever found the house that you returned to?"

Rico could not say. "When I go up there, away from the lake towards therailroad, I seem to remember that there I stood with my mother, or satwith her upon a garden-seat with the red flowers before us; but nownothing is to be seen like the house, and I do not even recognize theroad at all. "

At last they arose, and went towards the garden. Rico carried theportmanteau, and the girl the basket. As they entered the garden, Stineli called out too loud, in her delight, "Oh, the beautiful, beautiful flowers!"

Silvio heard these unfortunate words, and pulled himself up in aninstant, crying out, at the top of his lungs, --

"Here comes Rico with his Stineli!"

His poor mother thought that he had an attack of fever. She thrust herthings back into the chest which she was arranging, --every thing inagain, pell-mell, --and ran quickly to the bedside. 

At that moment Rico walked boldly into the room, and the good womanalmost fell over backward in her surprise and delight; for until thatvery instant she had secretly been a prey to the darkest fears, alwaysbelieving that Rico's adventure would cost him his life. 

A maiden came behind Rico, with a friendly face that won Mrs. Menotti'sheart in a twinkling, for she was a very impressionable woman. 

First of all, however, she shook Rico's hands almost off in herwelcoming grasp; and in the meantime Stineli had gone over to thebedside and placed her arm about the thin shoulders of the child, andsmiled into his face as if they were old and dear friends, while Silvioin return put his arm about her neck, and drew her face down to his. 

Straightway Stineli placed a present for the child before him. Shehad put it conveniently in her pocket, so that she could place herhand on it at once. It was a toy that had been Peterli's favoritebefore any other, --a pine-cone, with a thin wire introduced into eachlittle opening between the hard scales, and a little figure, made ofsole-leather, perched on the top of each bit of wire. All these tinyfigures shook and nodded so merrily towards each other, and had suchfunnily painted little faces, that Silvio could scarcely stoplaughing at them. 

Mrs. Menotti had learned from Rico all that he had to tell her ofimportance while this play went on, --for she was anxious to learn fromhimself that all had gone quietly and safely, --then she turned to thegirl, and greeted her with heartfelt kindness; and Stineli made answermore with her kindly eyes than with her tongue, for she could not speaka word of Italian, and had to help herself out with such Romanish wordsas she had learned. 

But she was quick-witted, and found a way to make herself understoodwithout difficulty; for, if the right word was wanting, she describedthe thing cleverly with her fingers, and by all sorts of signs, whichamused Silvio exceedingly; for it was a kind of game of guessing for himall the time. 

Now Mrs. Menotti went over to the cupboard, where all the service forthe table was kept, and brought out tablecloth and plates, coldchicken, fruit, and wine; which, when Stineli observed, she hastenedafter her to aid her, and did it so neatly and handily that thereremained little for Mrs. Menotti to do; and she stood gazing at thenimble, willing girl, who had soon served Silvio also, as he lay inbed, cutting his food for him, and helping him neatly and rapidly, which pleased the child very much. 

Mrs. Menotti seated herself, saying, "I have not had such help as thisin many a year; but, come now, Stineli: sit down, and eat with us. "

And they sat and chatted and ate together, as if they were old friendswho had always been accustomed to such free intercourse. 

Rico began to give an account of the journey after they had finishedeating, and Stineli meanwhile quietly replaced every thing in thecupboard; for she knew well enough, without being told, how such workshould be done. Then she seated herself by Silvio's bedside, and madeshadow pictures on the wall with her supple fingers; and Silvio laughedaloud, and called the names, --"A hare! A beast with horns! A spider withlong legs!"

So sped away the first evening quickly and merrily, and they all weretaken by surprise when it struck ten o'clock. Rico rose, for he knew hemust be going; but a dark cloud came over his countenance. 

He said shortly, "Good-night, " and went away. But the girl ran afterhim; and in the garden she took his hand, saying, "Now you must not besad, Rico, it _is_ so beautiful here. I cannot tell you how lovely Ifind it, nor how happy I am; and I owe it all, all to you. And you willcome again to-morrow, and every day, will you not, Rico?"

"Yes, " he said; and looked at Stineli with a most melancholy expression. "Yes; and every evening, when it is most beautiful, I must be off andaway, because I belong to nobody. "

"Oh! do not think in that way, Rico, " said his friend encouragingly. "Have we not always belonged to each other, and have not I often rejoicedover that thought all these three years that are past? And when thingswere almost unsupportable, and I longed to get away, have not I alwayssaid to myself, 'If I could only be with Rico again, I would bear anything?' And now it has come about as we wished, and, indeed, far betterthan I had imagined; and will you not be happy with me, Rico?"

"Yes; that I will, " said the lad; and his countenance cleared a little. 

He did belong to somebody, after all; and Stineli's words had restoredhis tranquility. They shook hands again; and Rico went through thegarden-gate, and away. 

When Stineli returned to the room, and, by Mrs. Menotti's directions, was about to say good-night to Silvio, the child began to disputeagain, and declared that he would not be separated from his newly-foundfriend even for a few hours; but would have her sit by his bedside allnight long, and say funny words to him, and look at him with herlaughing eyes. 

Nothing that his mother could say produced any impression upon him, until she spoke thus: "Very well; if you keep Stineli standing by yourbed to amuse you all night, she will soon be as ill as you are, and notbe able to get up at all, but have to lie in bed, and you will not seeher for a long time. "

So, after a while, the child released his hold of Stineli's arm, and said, --

"There, go to sleep; but come to me again to-morrow early. "

This was promised; and Mrs. Menotti showed the girl into a neat littlebedroom that looked out upon the garden, whence a delicious scent offlowers rose through the open window. 

With every day that passed Stineli became more and more necessary tolittle Silvio. If she only went out-of-doors for a few moments, heconsidered it a misfortune. He was obedient and quiet enough, however, when she stayed with him; and did every thing she bade him do, and didnot tease his mother as before. 

And it seemed as if the nervous little fellow had less frequent attacksof pain since Stineli's arrival. Indeed, he had not complained since hercoming, and she had been with them many days. 

It must certainly be acknowledged that she was the most amusing ofcompanions, and turned every thing that came in her way into a game. Shehad always lived with children, and constantly had their entertainmentin her mind. She had also learned a great many words from Silvio, andcould soon chatter away with him at her ease; and when she did get thewords twisted and upside down, it was even more funny, and Silvio lookedupon that as a game made expressly for him. 

Mrs. Menotti never saw Rico entering the garden but she ran towards him, for now she was at liberty to move about freely; and she always drew hima little aside to tell him what a treasure he had brought into the housefor her, how happy and gay her Silvio had become, and that she neverwould have believed that such a girl as Stineli existed on the face ofthe earth; for with Silvio she was as merry as if her only pleasureconsisted in playing the little games he liked, while she was as wiseand intelligent as any grown woman with Mrs. Menotti, and understoodhousework so that it all seemed to go on of its own accord; and nicely, too, as if every day were Sunday. In short, Mrs. Menotti could not findwords enough to praise Stineli in all the ways in which she found heradmirable; and Rico was always happy in listening to these praises. 

When they all sat together in the pleasant room, and exchanged lovingand happy glances, they felt that they never wanted to be separated, and called themselves the happiest family in the whole world, andneeded for nothing. 

But the clouds on Rico's brow grew dark as night came on, and towardsten o'clock every thing looked black and blacker; and even if Mrs. Menotti, in her contentment, did not notice it, Stineli did, andsecretly worried over it, thinking, "It is just as if there were athunder-storm in the air. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

CLOUDS ON THE BEAUTIFUL LAKE OF GARDA. 

It was a beautiful Sunday in autumn, and across the Lake of Riva therewas to be a "dance evening, " and Rico was to go over there to play; sohe would not be able to pass the day with Stineli and the rest. Theytalked this over and over through the week, for it was a great trial tothem all when Rico did not come for Sunday; and Stineli tried to findall sorts of little reasons to reconcile Rico, and to make the affairseem less unpleasant. 

"You will go across the lake in the sunlight, and return under thebeautiful stars; and we shall be thinking of you the whole time, " shesaid to him, when he first mentioned that he should be away on Sunday. 

On Saturday evening Rico brought his violin, for Stineli's greatestpleasure was to hear him play. The lad played lovely tunes one afteranother; but they were all sad melodies, and seemed to make him sadderstill, for he looked down at his instrument with a kind of indignantsorrow, as if it did him a real injury. 

Suddenly he pushed it away from him, long before the clock had struckten, and said, "I am going away. "

Mrs. Menotti tried to detain him; she could not understand what wasamiss. Stineli had looked steadily at him while he was playing. Now shesaid, quietly, --

"I will go with you a little way. "

"No, " cried Silvio; "do not go. Stay here with me. "

"Yes, yes, Stineli!" said Rico. "Stay here, and let me go alone. "

And, saying this, he looked at his friend exactly as he had looked whenhe came away from the schoolmaster's house, and joined Stineli at thewood-pile, so long ago, saying then, "It is all of no use!"

Stineli went to Silvio's bedside, and said softly, "Be a good boy, Silvio; and to-morrow I will tell you the very prettiest and drolleststory about Peterli; but now do not make a noise. "

Silvio really did keep quiet, and Stineli went after Rico. When theyreached the hedge, Rico turned about, and pointed towards the brightlylighted window that looked so pleasant and friendly from the garden, andsaid, "Go back there, Stineli. You belong there, and there you are athome; but I belong in the streets. I am a homeless fellow, and shallalways be so: now let me go away. "

"No, no; I will not let you go in this mood, Rico. Where do youmean to go?"

"To the lake, " said the young man; and went towards the bridge. As theystood together on the little mound, they were silent for a while, listening to the murmur of the waves. At last, Rico said, --

"Do you understand, if you were not here, I would go away at once, faraway?--but I do not know where I should go. Wherever I go, I shall behomeless, and have to be fiddling forever in public-houses where theyare noisy, just as if they had lost their senses, and I must alwayssleep in a room in which I dislike to be; but you belong to them therein that beautiful house, and I do not belong anywhere. And I tell you, Stineli, when I look down there, I think if my mother had only cast meto the waves before she died, then I should not have been thishomeless wanderer. "

With ever-increasing trouble, Stineli listened to these words of herfriend; but when he pronounced these last, she became really alarmed, and said hastily, "O Rico! you ought not to say such things. I am surethat you have not said 'Our Father' for a long, long time; and thesewicked thoughts are the consequence. "

"No: I have not prayed for a long time, " said Rico. "I haveforgotten how. "

These words gave his companion a severe shock. 

"Oh, dear! what would my grandmother say to this, Rico?" she cried, indistress. "She would be in sad trouble about you. Do not you rememberhow she told us, 'He who forgets his Lord's Prayer is sure to get intotrouble?' Rico, you must learn it again. I will teach it to you thisminute: it will not take you long. "

And the good girl began, with pious zeal, and repeated the prayer twiceor thrice over to her friend; and, while she thus emphasized the words, she noticed that there was a great deal of especial comfort for Ricocontained therein; and, as she ended, she said, --

"Do not you see, Rico, if all the kingdom belongs to the good God, Hecan surely find you a home? for He has all the power, so He can give itto you if He chooses. "

"Now you can plainly see, Stineli, " replied the youth, "if the good Godhas a home for me in His kingdom, and has the power to give it to me, and does not, it is because He does _not_ choose to. "

"Yes; but you forget something, " continued Stineli. "The good God maysay, 'If Rico wants any thing from me, he should pray to me. '"

In reply to this, Rico had no answer. He remained silent for sometime; then he said, "Repeat the Lord's Prayer again, Stineli: I willlearn it. "

His companion gladly complied, and it was soon learned. Then theyseparated, and each went home; but Rico's thoughts were busy with the"kingdom and the power. "

Once more in his quiet room, he prayed humbly, and with a softenedheart; for he felt that he had been in the wrong to believe that thegood God ought to give him what he wished for, when he did not evenremember to pray to Him. 

Stineli returned to the garden very full of anxious thought. She turnedover and over in her mind whether she ought to tell all this to Mrs. Menotti. Perhaps she might be able to find some other employment forRico than this fiddling in the public-houses for dancing, that was sodetestable to the lad. But the thought of troubling Mrs. Menotti withher affairs passed quickly from her mind as she entered the room again. 

Silvio lay upon his pillows with flushed cheeks, breathing heavily andirregularly; and by the bedside sat his mother, and wept. 

The little invalid had had another of his severe attacks, and a littleanger at Stineli's absence had increased the fever. His mother was socast down, that she did not seem to Stineli the same person at all. Whenshe, at last, recovered her spirits a little, she said, --

"Come here, Stineli. Sit down here by my side: I want to tell yousomething. 

"I have something that lies very heavily at my heart; so heavily, that sometimes it seems to me that I cannot bear it any longer. It istrue you are young, but you are so sensible, and have seen a greatdeal; and it seems to me that I should be relieved if I could talk itover with you. 

"You see how Silvio suffers, and how ill he is, --my only son. Now I havenot only the distress of his sickness, which can never be healed, but Ioften feel that perhaps it is a punishment from God, because I amholding and enjoying an unlawful property: although, to be sure, I didnot seek to get it, and do not wish to keep it. But I will tell youevery thing from the beginning. 

"When we were married, Menotti and I, --he brought me over from Riva, where my father still lives, --Menotti had a very good friend livinghere, who was just about leaving, because the land had become hateful tohim, owing to the death of his wife. This friend had a house--a littleone--and large fields, though they were not very productive. He wantedmy husband to take them all, and said that the land did not yield much;but if he would keep it all in good order, and the house also, that hewould return to claim it in a few years. 

"So the friends made their arrangements together, and said nothing aboutinterest. My husband said, 'You will want to find every thing as itshould be when you return;' for he meant to put it all in goodcondition, and understood the cultivating of land perfectly, which wasthoroughly well known to his friend, who willingly left it all in hishands. But about one year later the railroad was built, and the littlehouse had to come down, and the garden was taken too, with the fields, for the railway went right through them. So my husband got a great dealmore money than they were really worth, and bought a far better piece ofland and a garden, and built a house, all with the money; and the landproduced fully twice what the other had, and we had most abundantharvests. I often said, 'It does not really belong to us, and we areliving in luxury from the property of another. How I wish that we knewwhere he is!' But my husband quieted me, and said, 'I am keeping it allin order for him, and when he comes it is all his; and as to the profitthat I have laid aside, he must have his share also. '

"Then Silvio was born; and when I discovered that the little fellow wasill, I kept saying over and over to my husband, 'We are living onproperty to which we have no right, and we are punished for it. ' Andsometimes it was so dreadful to me that poverty would have been moretolerable, and I would have gladly been homeless. 

"My husband always tried to console me, and said, 'You will see howpleased he will be with me when he returns. ' But he did not return. Myhusband died: it is now four years ago. Oh, what a life I have led sincethen! always thinking how can I be free from this unlawful propertywithout doing any thing wrong, for it is my duty to keep it in goodcondition until our friend comes; and then I feared that he might be inmisery somewhere while I am living so comfortably on his property, andknow nothing of his whereabouts. "

Stineli felt sincerely how much Mrs. Menotti was to be pitied; for sheperfectly well understood her feeling, and how she was alwaysreproaching herself for a thing that she could not change, and shecomforted the good woman, saying, --

"When any one does not mean to do wrong, and means not to do wrong, then there is nothing but to trust to the good God and pray to Him forhelp; for He can turn our evil into His good, and He will do so whenwe are truly repentant over evil. I know all this from mygrandmother's teaching; for once I was in great distress, and did notknow what to do. "

Then she told about Rico and the lake that he was always thinking of, and how she was the cause of his running away, and full of fear that ithad cost him his life. But she said that she felt perfectly at easeafter she had cast her burden on the Lord; and she advised Mrs. Menottito do likewise, and assured her that she would derive the truest comfortfrom so doing. After this conversation Mrs. Menotti felt much relieved, and said they would all go to rest now, and thanked her young counsellorfor her advice. 

CHAPTER XX. 

AT HOME. 

One beautiful Sunday morning in autumn, Mrs. Menotti seated herself onthe garden-bench in the midst of the glowing red flowers, andthoughtfully gazed about her, --now at the oleander and laurel bushes, now at the fig-trees laden with fruit, and again at the vines heavy withgolden grapes; and she said, softly, "God knows I should be glad if Icould lay aside this feeling of wrong-doing that weighs on myconscience, but certainly such a lovely spot as this one I could neverfind for a home. "

Presently Rico came into the garden. He was obliged to go away in theafternoon; and he never passed a whole day without paying them a visit, if it were possible to do otherwise. As he was passing on towardsSilvio's room, Mrs. Menotti called him. 

"Come and sit down by me, Rico, for a moment. Who knows how long we maybe able to stay in this place together?"

Rico was alarmed. 

"Why do you say this, Mrs. Menotti? You do not think of goingaway, do you?"

Mrs. Menotti had to stop, for she could not tell him all her story. Sheremembered what Stineli had said to her the evening before about Rico. She was so full of her own thoughts at that time, that she did notfairly take in the import of her words. Now she began to wonder aboutit, the more she thought it over. 

"Do tell me, Rico, " she said, "were you ever here earlier?--I meanbefore; or what made you want to see the lake again, as Stineli told mewas the case yesterday?"

"Yes; when I was little, " said the lad. "Then I went away. "

"How did you get here when you were little, Rico?"

"I was born here. "

"What! here? What was your father, if he came here from themountains yonder?"

"He did not come here from the mountains; only my mother did. "

"Do I hear aright, Rico? Was your father born here?"

"Certainly. He was a native of this place. "

"You never told me this before. This is wonderful. You have not a namelike the people here. What was your father's name?"

"What was his name? It was Henrico Trevillo. "

Mrs. Menotti sprang up from the seat as if she had had a shock. 

"What did you say, Rico?" she cried out. "What did you say just now?Tell me again. "

"I told you my father's name. "

Mrs. Menotti was not listening: she ran towards the door. 

"Stineli, bring me a kerchief, " she cried. "I must go to the priest atonce: I am trembling all over. "

In great surprise, Stineli brought out the kerchief. 

"Come with me a few steps, Rico, " said the good woman, as she wentthrough the garden. "I must ask you something more. "

Rico had to repeat his father's name twice over; and when they hadfairly reached the door of the priest's house, for a third time Mrs. Menotti asked, --

"What did you say it was? Are you quite sure?"

She hurried into the priest's house, and left Rico wondering what couldhave happened to put her into such a way. 

Rico had brought his violin with him, for he knew that Stineli wasparticularly pleased to hear it. When he reached Silvio's room, hefound the little boy and his companion in the best of humor. Stinelihad fulfilled her promise about the story of Peterli's funny doings, and this had amused Silvio exceedingly. When the latter espied theviolin, he cried out at once, "Now let us sing; let us sing the'Lambkins' with Stineli. "

Stineli had never heard her song since it was composed that day on themountain, for now Rico played such beautiful airs that she had quiteforgotten the old ones. But she was astonished to hear Silvio askingfor the German song, for she had no idea of the hundred times the twoboys had repeated it during the three years that were past. She wasmuch pleased to hear the old song again, and, above all, to sing itwith Rico; and so they began. Silvio sang with all his might, --withoutunderstanding a single word, to be sure, but the tune was quitecorrect. It was the girl's turn to laugh now; for Silvio'spronunciation was most wonderful, and she could not join in forlaughter, and it was contagious; for the child could not resist themerry expression of her face, and joined her in laughing, and sangagain still more queerly and louder; and all the while Rico played hisaccompaniment without stopping. 

And thus Mrs. Menotti's ears were greeted with laughter and song as shedrew near the house on her return, and she could not understand how theycould be so light-hearted and merry on such a momentous occasion. Shecame hastily through the garden, and into the room, and sank upon thenearest seat; for the shock and the joy, and the anticipation of whatwas to follow, had overpowered her, and she needed to recover herself alittle. The sight of her agitation silenced the singers, and they gazedat her in surprise. At last she recovered, and said, --

"Rico, "--and her voice was quite solemn, --"Rico, listen to me. Lookabout you. This house, this garden, that field, --all, all that you cansee, and much that you cannot see, belongs to you: it is all yours. Youare the owner; it is your inheritance from your father; your home ishere; your name stands in the baptismal record; you are the son ofHenrico Trevillo, and he was my husband's dearest friend. "

Stineli had understood the whole story at the first word, and her facebeamed with unspeakable happiness. 

Rico sat as if turned to stone, and made no sound; but Silvio broke outinto shouts of delight, --it was all a play to him. 

"Oh! now the house belongs to Rico, where is he going to sleep?"

"He can sleep in any room he chooses, Silvio. He can sleep in them allif he wishes to. He can turn us all out-of-doors if he has a mind to, and stay all sole alone in this house. "

"I am sure I should much prefer to go away with you, then, " said Rico. 

"Oh, you good Rico!" cried Mrs. Menotti. "If you will let us stay here, we shall be so glad to remain. I have thought it out as I came alongtowards home, and know how we can arrange it so that we shall be happy. I will take half of the house of you, and the same with the garden andall the land; so one half will be yours, and the other Silvio's. "

"I shall give my half to Stineli, " said the child. 

"So shall I, " said Rico. 

"Oh, ho! now the whole thing belongs to her, --the garden, and the house, and all that is in them; and Rico and his fiddle, and I too. Now let usgo on with our song. "

But Rico did not take the same view of the affair as his little friend. He had thought over Mrs. Menotti's words, and now asked, anxiously, --

"I do not understand how Silvio's house can belong to me because ourfathers were friends. "

It now occurred to Mrs. Menotti for the first time that Rico did notknow any thing about the circumstances; and she told him the wholestory, with all the particulars, even more minutely than she had told itto Stineli; and when she had finished they all understood perfectly howit was, and were at liberty to rejoice without restraint; for since thehouse and all belonged partly to Rico, there was no reason why he shouldnot take possession at once, and never leave them again; and theirrejoicing was great. 

In the midst of their merry-making Rico said, suddenly, --

"Since things have turned out this way, Mrs. Menotti, do not let any ofthe arrangements be disturbed in the house; but every thing go on asusual. I will simply come here to live, and you shall be our mother. "

"O Rico! to think that it is yours, that it is you who are the _master_. How good God is to let it all turn out in this way, --that I can give itall to you, and yet stay here myself with a clear conscience. I will bea mother to you, Rico; and indeed you have long been as dear to me as ifyou were my own child. Now you must call me 'mother, ' and so mustStineli; and we shall be the happiest household in all Peschiera. "

"Well, now let us finish our song, " cried little Silvio; for he was soexcited and glad that he felt that singing was the only way to expresshis joy; and the others were not unwilling to join him, and they didfinish their song; then Stineli said, --

"Now will you not sing one other song with me, Rico? You know whichone I mean. "

And they sang the grandmother's hymn piously, and in beautiful accord, especially the favorite verses at the end, --

 "He never yet has done amiss; And, perfect in His sight, All that He does or orders is Sure to be finished right. 

 "Now only let His 'will be done, ' Nor clamor constantly, Peace to the heart on earth will come, And joy eternally. "

The next day Rico did not go to Riva. Mother Menotti advised him to goat once to the landlady, to explain to her the change in hiscircumstances, and to order another fiddler to be sent to Riva, while heat once entered upon his possessions. Well pleased with thesesuggestions, the youth hastened to carry them out. 

The landlady heard his wonderful story with great interest, and at theend she called out to her husband and told it all over to him, andtestified real pleasure at the good fortune that had befallen her youngfriend, and was sincere in what she said. She certainly was sorry tolose him; but she had suspected for some time that the hostess of the"Three Crowns" was making advances to Rico in the hope of enticing himaway from her; and that would have been dreadful to the "Golden Sun. "Now any danger of that misfortune was averted, and she was glad to hearthat Rico was a house and land holder himself, for he was a greatfavorite with her. Her husband was particularly well pleased; for he hadbeen a friend of Rico's father, and did not now understand why he hadnot earlier noticed that the lad was the exact image of the man. 

So the farewells were all spoken in good feeling, and the landlady tookhis hand at parting, and asked for his patronage if ever there wasoccasion for her services in his house. 

That very evening the news was known in all Peschiera, with all the truedetails, and a great many more; and everybody expressed pleasure, andsaid that Rico looked exactly as if he owned an estate, and would gracethe position. 

Mother Menotti did not know how she could do enough to make Ricocomfortable in his own house. She arranged the big room for him--theone that had two windows overlooking the garden, and with a view overthe lake--with beautiful marble statuettes adorning the walls; and onthe table she placed a vase of flowers, and the whole room was mostprettily furnished, so that Rico stood still on the threshold when, atMrs. Menotti's request, Stineli led him up there. And when the kind, motherly woman took his hand and led him to the window, and he lookeddown in the shimmering lake, and over at the purple mountains in thedistance, his heart filled to overflowing with thankfulness, and hecould only murmur, softly, --

"Oh, how beautiful! And this is my home!" And now day after day the fourhappy friends lived their peaceful life in the comfortable room lookingon the garden, where Silvio lay, and never perceived how the time wasspeeding away. 

In the daytime Rico went about with his whistling servant lad throughthe fig-trees and over the fields planted with corn, for he wanted tolearn the care of it all. 

Now the servant naturally thought, "I know much more than my newmaster, " and felt sensible of his superiority over Rico; but when, inthe evening, beautiful and heart-stirring music came forth upon theevening breeze from the well-lighted room, where they all sattogether, the boy leaned against the hedge and listened for longhours; for music was his greatest delight, and he said to himself, "Mymaster knows more than I do, after all;" and he could not help feelinga great respect for Rico. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

SUNSHINE ON THE LAKE OF GARDA. 

Two years have passed, every day bringing more enjoyment than the last. 

To Stineli came the knowledge that it was time for her to return to herhome, and she had many a hard battle with herself to keep up her courageand cheerfulness; for to go away, and probably never return, was themost dreadful prospect that ever presented itself to the young girl'simagination. Rico also knew what was before them, and sometimes he wouldonly speak when it became absolutely necessary. And a strange, unnaturalfeeling took possession of mother Menotti, and she tried to discover thesecret cause; for she had quite forgotten that Stineli was to go homeagain to be confirmed. When at last the cause of the trouble came out, she said, "Oh! you can put that off for another year;" and so thingsfell back into their old comfort again. 

On the third year, however, a message came from Bergamo (some one camedown there from the mountain) that Stineli was wanted at home, and mustgo. Now there was no help for it. Silvio might fight against it like onepossessed: it did no good. Against fate it is useless to struggle. 

Mother Menotti said, day after day, towards the end, "Only promise tocome back, Stineli. You may tell your father I will do any thing hewishes, if he will only let you come back soon. "

Rico said nothing at all. And Stineli went off; and day after day itseemed as if a big black cloud lay over the household, and as if thevery sun outside had ceased to shine. 

And so it went on from November to Easter, when everybody was rejoicing;but it was still sad in Rico's house. After the Easter festival wasover, and every thing was beginning to be more beautiful than everbefore in the garden, and flowers and sweet odors were spread allabroad, Rico sat by Silvio's bedside, and played every sad melody thathe could remember, until the little fellow was in a most melancholymood, when suddenly from the garden a merry voice called out, --

"Rico, Rico! have you no more cheerful welcome for me than this?"

Silvio screamed as if beside himself. Rico threw his violin on the bed, and ran out; and mother Menotti came in, half frightened. 

On the threshold stood Rico with Stineli; and so in Silvio's room therewas the long-lost sunshine back again, and they were as merry as everagain, and happy as they had never believed would be possible duringtheir long separation. There they all sat at table by Silvio's bedside, and questioned and answered, and told all that had happened, and everand again broke out into rejoicing over their reunion. Who would havethought, to see them there, that any thing could be wanting to theperfect happiness of these four people? But Rico knew another tale. Inthe midst of all the merriment, he became absent-minded, and fell intoone of his old dreamy moods. It did not last as long as formerly, however. He must have reached a satisfactory conclusion pretty soon; forsuddenly his reverie was over, and he said these words, with the utmostdecision, "Stineli must be my wife this very moment, or else she willhave to go away again directly; and that we could not endure. "

This decision pleased Silvio mightily; and in a short time they wereall of the same way of thinking, that the sooner the marriage tookplace the better. 

On the very most beautiful May morning that ever shone over Peschiera, along procession started from the church towards the "Golden Sun. "

At the head, tall and well-proportioned, came Rico with his statelymien; and at his side walked Stineli, looking happy and pretty, hersmooth braids crowned with the fresh bridal wreath. Next in theprocession, in a well-upholstered little wagon, drawn by two merryPeschiera urchins, Silvio might be seen, beaming with satisfaction likea triumphant victor; and last of all followed mother Menotti, very muchmoved and affected, in a rustling wedding-dress; behind her the servantlad, with a nosegay that covered his whole shirt-front; and after themstreamed all Peschiera, with the very noisiest kind of participation, for they all wanted to look at the handsome couple, and to do themhonor. It was almost like a great family festival, in which they alljoined to help the strayed and lost Peschiera boy to found his own homein his native town. 

The joy of the landlady of the "Golden Sun, " when she saw the processioncoming towards her house, is quite indescribable. Whenever the questionarose concerning any wedding, low or high, she always said, withemphasis, --

"That is nothing at all in comparison with Rico's wedding in the'Golden Sun. '"

The house in the garden never again lost its sunshine, and Stineli tookgood care "Our Father" was never forgotten again; and on every Sundayevening the grandmother's hymn was sung in the garden in full chorus. 

HOW WISELI WAS PROVIDED FOR. 

CHAPTER I. 

COASTING. 

On one of the hills surrounding the city of Bern a little village isperched which shall be nameless in this story; but if you are curious, and go there in your travels, perhaps you may recognize it from thefollowing description. On the very top of the hill stands one solitaryhouse, with a beautiful garden about it. It is called "On the Height, "and is the property of Colonel Ritter. The descent to the little square, where the church and parsonage stand, is sharp (in the parsonage thecolonel's wife passed her happy days of childhood); and somewhat fartherdown is the schoolhouse, amid a little cluster of houses; while on theleft, as you still descend, you see a lonely cottage with a pretty, well-kept garden, surrounded by currant-bushes, and adorned withmignonette and pinks, and a few roses amidst its chiccory and spinach. This is the last house on the road, which, from here on, makes one longstretch downward to the highway that goes far out into the country, parallel with the river Aar. 

This long, unbroken descent forms, in winter, the most perfectcoasting-ground imaginable; for once you are past the steep bit by thecolonel's house, you may go on without interruption quite down to theroad by the river; that is, always supposing that you make a fair startat the beginning. 

This coast was an endless source of pleasure to the army of children whodaily poured out of the door of the old schoolhouse when lesson hourswere over, ran to the yard where they had piled their sleds on entering, took each his own from the heap, and scampered off in wild haste tobegin their afternoon amusement. How the hours passed no one couldimagine: down flew the sleds in a twinkling, and nobody felt the troubleof climbing up the hill, so full were all the little heads of thepleasure of going down again; and so the night, and the time forreturning to their homes for supper, always took them by surprise. 

This usually occasioned a stormy scene before they left thecoasting-ground; for everybody wished to go down "once more, " and then"just _once_ more, " and then "one single turn more, "--so that everybodyhurried and jumped onto the sleds, and flew down and ran up again in aregular hurry-scurry. 

A rule had been established to the end that no one should go down thecoast while the others were still climbing up, but that all should godown one after the other in good order, to prevent confusion oraccidents. Notwithstanding this good rule, there were often manylawless proceedings, especially towards the close of the day, whennobody wished to be the last, and when they all crowded onto the coastvery closely together. 

This was the state of affairs on a clear evening in January, when thesnow fairly crackled under the children's feet as they mounted the hill, and the fields in every direction were frozen so firmly that you couldhave gone anywhere over them in a sleigh as if they were the highway. The children were all rosy and glowing with their exertions, for theywere hurrying up the steep hill, pulling their sleds behind them, turning them about in a flash, jumping upon them, and off again headforemost, not to lose a second of the precious time until the moon shonebrightly in the crisp sky, and the evening bells were ringing. All theboys were shouting, "Once more; just once more!" and the girls were aseager as they. At the top, however, where they all threw themselves upontheir sleds, there was great excitement and uproar. Three boys eachclaimed to have reached the top first, and would not yield an inch toeach other, but all must go down at once. And so they pushed this wayand that, until a big boy called Cheppi was hustled quite against thebank of snow at the side of the coast, and found that his heavily ironedsled was fast in the snow. He was furious, for he saw that now all theother fellows would get off before he could extricate himself. He lookedabout, and presently espied a little slender girl standing near by inthe snow. She was very pale, and held both arms wrapped in her apron tokeep them warmer, for all that she trembled and shivered with cold fromhead to feet. She looked so feeble and miserable, that she seemed toCheppi just the proper object upon whom to vent his rage. 

"Can't you get out of a fellow's way, you stupid thing? What are youstanding there for? You have not even a sled with you. Just wait amoment; I'll help you to get along!"

So saying, he thrust his boot into the snow, intending to kick it overthe girl. She sprang back, however, quickly, so that she went quite upto her knees in the snow, and said timidly, "I was only looking on. "

Cheppi was thrusting his boot into the snow again with the sameintention towards the child, when he received such a tremendous boxon the ear from behind, that it almost knocked him off his sled. "Just you wait a minute, " he shouted, beside himself with anger, forhis ear tingled as it had never tingled before; and doubling up hisfists, he turned himself to see who was his hidden foe. A boy stoodbehind him, and looked on very quietly, holding his sled in positionfor another coast. 

"Come on, " he said calmly. 

It was Otto Ritter, a class-mate of Cheppi, with whom he was alwaysengaged in some little quarrel. Otto was a tall, slender boy, abouteleven years old, and not nearly of the same strength as Cheppi; butthe latter had learned more than once that with hands and feet Otto wasmuch the more skilful of the two. He did not strike out, but held hisfists doubled up, and cried out angrily, "Let me alone: I am notmeddling with you. "

"But I am with you, " replied Otto, in a very warlike tone. "Whatbusiness have you to chase Wiseli away like that, and then to kick snowat her, I should like to know? I have been looking at you, you coward!teasing a little girl who cannot defend herself. "

With these words he turned his back contemptuously towards Cheppi, andcalled out to Wiseli, who was standing shivering all this time in thedeep snow, --

"Come out of the snow, Wiseli. Oh, how you are shivering, child! Haveyou no sled really, and only been able to look on? Here, take mine, andgo down once quickly. Do you know how?"

The pale, timid girl did not know what to make of this kindness. She hadbeen looking on for some little time, watching the sleds as they flewdown the hill, and thinking, "Oh, how I should like to go down to thevery bottom just once!" when she saw two, and sometimes three, goingdown on the same sled. But now she might go down all alone by herself, and that, too, on the very handsomest sled on the coast, --the one with alion's head, that went faster than any other, because it was light, andwas bound with iron. She was so happy that she stood still, lookingafter Cheppi with a half feeling that he might strike her if she daredto enjoy such a piece of good fortune. But there he stood quitetranquilly, as if nothing whatever had happened; and by him stood Otto, with such a protecting air, that she took courage, and seated herself onthe handsome sled; and when Otto called out, "Go on; go on, Wiseli!" sheobeyed, and away she flew as if the wind were behind her. Very soon Ottoheard the coasters all toiling up the hill again, and he called out, "Stay among the first, Wiseli, and go down again; after that we must gohome. " Wiseli was only too happy to do as she was bid, and enjoyed for asecond time the long-wished-for pleasure. Then she brought the sled toits owner, thanking him shyly for his kindness, but more with herbeaming eyes than with words; and off she scampered as fast as she couldgo. Otto felt decidedly happier. "Where is Pussy?" he called out, peering into the already scattering crowd. "Here she is!" replied amerry voice; and out of the knot of children appeared a red-cheeked, plump little girl, who slipped her hand into her big brother'sprotecting palm, and went with him towards their father's house asquickly as possible. It was very late, and they had over-passed theallotted time for coasting. 

CHAPTER II. 

AT HOME WHERE ALL ARE HAPPY. 

When Otto and his sister came noisily in through the deep stone entranceof their father's house, the old servant Trine appeared in a doorwayholding a light high above her head to see whence came all the uproar, and from whom. "So, " at last she said, half scoldingly, half pleasantly;"your mother has been asking for you for a long time, but there was notrace of you, although it struck eight nobody knows how long ago. " OldTrine had been maid-servant in the family when the children's mothercame into the world, so she was an authority in the household, and feltthat she was one of its members, --to tell the truth, the very head ofthe establishment; for surely she was the oldest in age and experience. The dear old woman was fairly foolish in her fondness for her master'schildren, and very proud of all their qualities and acquisitions. Shewould not let this be seen, however, but employed an indignant tone whenspeaking to them; for she thought it best for their education not toappear perfectly satisfied with their conduct. 

"Off with your shoes, on with your slippers!" she called out at once, according to rule; but her order was immediately executed by thecommander, for she knelt before Otto while she spoke, to take off hiswet shoes. He had sunk down upon the nearest seat. His little sisterstood perfectly still in the middle of the room without stirring, whichwas such an unusual circumstance, that Trine looked over her shouldertwo or three times to see what it could mean. Now that Otto wasequipped, it was Pussy's turn to sit down and be attended to; but shestood stock still, and did not stir. "Well, well! if we wait thereuntil summer comes, our shoes will get dry of themselves, " said Trine, still on her knees. "Hsh, hsh, Trine! I hear something. Who is in thebig parlor?" said Pussy, lifting her forefinger up a littlethreateningly. "Everybody who has dry shoes: nobody else admitted. Nowmake up your mind to sit down, " said Trine. But instead of sittingdown, Pussy made a spring upward, and cried, "Now I hear it again;Uncle Max laughs just like that. " "What!" cried Otto, and reached theparlor-door with one leap. 

"Wait, wait!" Pussy called after him, and ran to the door at the sametime; but she was caught and placed on the seat, although old Trine hadhard work to get the shoes off the little kicking feet; but perseveranceat last accomplished the business, and off ran Pussy out of one door andthrough the other into the big parlor, where truly sat Uncle Max in thearm-chair. Now there was a fine jubilee, and a hugging and kissing overand over. Uncle Max certainly made as much noise as the children, and itwas a long time before they were quieted enough to speak a rational wordto each other. A visit from this uncle was always a time of greatdelight for the children, and with good reason, for he was extravagantlyfond of them. He was a great traveller, and only came to see them oncein two years; but then he made up for his long absence by giving himselfentirely to his little friends as if he were no older than they; and thequeer and enchanting presents that he had stuffed into every pocket forhis little niece and nephew would be hard to describe. 

Uncle Max was a naturalist, and travelled to every corner of the world, bringing back something curious and interesting from each place. 

At last supper was served, to the immense satisfaction of the wholeparty, --for the children always brought home new appetites from thecoasting-ground, and were prepared, both old and young, to do fulljustice to the steaming dishes set before them. 

"Well, " said Colonel Ritter, glancing across the table at his littledaughter, who was seated beside her mother, and already too busilyengaged in satisfying her hunger to look up from her plate. "Well, well;it seems rather strange to think that Pussy has no hand to spare for herpapa to-day. I have not had one single kiss, and now it is too late. "

With a contrite air Pussy pushed back her plate, saying, "O papa, Iforgot! I will give you"--

But her father said, quickly, "No, no; do not make a disturbance now, child. Give me your hand across the table; we will have the rest later. That will do now, Pussy. "

"What was this child christened, Marie? I was certainly present at theceremony, but I have utterly forgotten her name. Not Pussy, I am sure, "said Uncle Max, laughing. 

"You certainly were present, Max, " replied his sister, "for you are thechild's godfather. She was named Marie. At this time her fathernicknamed her Pussy, and Otto has multiplied that in the mostnonsensical manner. "

"Oh, no, mamma; not nonsensical, " cried Otto, quite seriously. "You see, uncle, it follows in very sensible order. When the little thing isgentle and good, then I call her 'Pussy. ' That is not always the case, however, and 'Puss' does for some of her moods; but when she is angry, and looks like a regular cross-patch, then I call her 'Old Cat. '"

"Yes, yes, Otto, " answered his sister; and when you are angry, you looklike a--like a"--

"Like a man, " said Otto; and as Pussy had no better comparison ready, she went on busily eating her pudding. 

Uncle Max laughed heartily. "Pussy is right, " he said. "She does farbetter in pursuing her present occupation than in answering back suchslanders. But, children, " he began again, after a pause, "it is morethan a year since I was here, and you have not told me about any thingthat has taken place during my absence. "

The latest events were those that occurred first to the children; andthey began to tell, generally both speaking together, the story ofCheppi's rude treatment of Wiseli on the coast, and of how cold the girlwas, and how she stood shivering in the snow, and had no sled of herown, but got a chance to coast down twice after all. 

"That is right, Otto, " said his father. "You must honor your name. Youmust always be a true knight for the persecuted and unprotected. Who isthis Wiseli?"

"You cannot know any thing about the girl nor her mother, " said hiswife. "But Uncle Max knows Wiseli's mother very well. You remember thatthin weaver who was our neighbor, don't you, brother? He had an onlydaughter with big brown eyes, who often came to us at the parsonage, andsang so sweetly. Can't you remember her now?"

While Uncle Max was trying to recall the somewhat fading recollectionsof his youth, old Trine put her head into the room, saying, --

"The carpenter Andrew would like to speak to you, Mrs. Ritter, if itwill not disturb you too much. "

This apparently innocent message produced a wonderful effect upon thewhole family. Mrs. Ritter put down the tablespoon, with which she wasabout to help her brother a second time to fruit, and said hastily, "Ifyou will excuse me, gentlemen, " and left the room. Otto sprang up soquickly that he knocked his chair over backwards, and then fell over ithimself in his haste to get away. Pussy was about to follow the others;but her uncle, seeing the movement, put his arms about her, and held herfast. She struggled, however, and said, entreatingly, --

"Let me go, uncle; let me go. Really, I must go. "

"Where do you want to go, Pussy?"

"To see the carpenter Andrew. Let me go quickly. Help, papa; help!"

"If you will tell me what you have to say to the carpenter, I willlet you go. "

"The sheep has only two legs left, and no tail at all; and the carpenteris the only person who can mend him. Now _do_ let me go!" And now Pussywas off too. 

The gentlemen looked at each other, and Max burst out into a merrylaugh. "Who is this carpenter Andrew, pray, who seems to have the powerof attracting your whole family to his feet?"

"You ought to be able to answer that question better than I, " repliedthe colonel. "He must also be one of the friends of your youth. The feverof adoration you ought to understand also: it must be one of your familycharacteristics; and your sister has introduced it into her family. Ican only tell you this much: this Andrew is the very corner-stone of myhouse. Every thing depends upon him, and we should all fall to pieces ifhis support were withdrawn from us. Andrew is the counsellor, comforter, safety, and aid in any trouble. If my wife thinks she wants any utensilfor household use, even if she does not know how it should look, norwhat use to put it too, Andrew the carpenter invents it, and makes it onthe spot. If the kitchen is on fire, or the water gives out there, or inthe laundry, Andrew the carpenter smothers the fire, and procures floodsof water. If my son does some sad piece of mischief, Andrew thecarpenter repairs the damage in a trice. If my daughter smashes all thecrockery, Andrew the carpenter glues it together at once. So you seethat this man is really the very pillar of my edifice; and if any thingshould happen to him, we should straightway go to pieces. "

Mrs. Ritter had returned to the room during this account of Andrew thecarpenter's virtues, and her husband had heightened the description forher benefit. Uncle Max shouted with laughter. 

"Yes, laugh away; laugh away!" said she. "For all that, I know very wellwhat a treasure I possess in Andrew the carpenter. "

"So do I, for that matter, " said her husband, laughing merrily. 

"I do, too, " said Pussy, heartily, who was again on her seat attable. 

"So do I, " grumbled Otto, while he rubbed his shins, that ached from hisrecent fall over the chair. 

"Well, now we are all of one mind about it, and the children can goquietly to bed, " said their mother. These words did not tend to restorequiet, for the children became rebellious; but it was useless. Old Trinestood on the threshold, and was ready to carry out the family rules andregulations. Off marched the children, and presently their mother alsodisappeared again; for there were the evening prayers to be said, andshe never failed to be at their bedside for that. 

When, at last, every thing was in order in the house, Mrs. Ritter joinedthe gentlemen once more. 

"At last!" said the colonel, with a sigh of relief, as if he hadvanquished the enemy. "Now you see how it is, Max. My wife belongs firstof all to the carpenter Andrew, then to the children, and only to herhusband when there is nothing else for her to do. "

"And now you see, Max, " said his sister, laughing, "that, although myhusband speaks scornfully of Andrew the carpenter, he does assign him avery high rank after all. Now acknowledge that, won't you? He has justgiven me a message for you. He has brought his yearly savings with himto-day, and begs for your assistance. "

"That is true, " said the colonel. "A more orderly, industrious, reliableman I do not know. I would trust my wife, my children, my goods andchattels to him rather than to any one else. He is the most honorable, trustworthy man in this parish, or in any other, I do believe. "

"Now you see, Max, " said his sister, laughing, "I could not say morethan that. " Her brother joined with her in her amusement at the zestwhich the colonel showed. Then he said, --

"You have all been so full of the praises of your marvel, that I havebecome curious, at last, to know where he comes from, and how he looks. Have I never seen him when I have visited you?"

"Oh, yes! you used to know him perfectly well, " replied his sister. "Youmust remember Andrew, with whom we went to school. Don't you recall thetwo brothers who were always in the same classes with you? The elder waseven then a perfect good-for-nothing, --he was not stupid, but would notstudy, and did not get on, and was put down into one of the lowerclasses with his brother and you. You must remember him, --his name wasJorg, and he had stiff, black hair. He always pelted us with somethingwhenever he got a chance, --with green apples or pears, and in winterwith snow-balls, --and always called us 'aristocrats. '"

"Oh, that fellow!" cried Max. "Yes; now I do remember all about him. Certainly he always called us 'aristocrats. ' I wonder how he got hold ofthat word. He was a disagreeable fellow: I remember that well. I caughthim once thrashing a little fellow most cruelly. I helped the littleone, and he shouted after me at least twelve times in succession, 'Aristocrat, aristocrat!' And now it comes back to me about the otherone, the lean Andrew, his brother. He was your Andrew, was he not, Marie?--the Andrew with the violets? Oh, now I comprehend this greatfriendship, " said Max, laughing again. 

"What is this about the violets? I want to know all about that, " saidthe colonel. 

"Oh! I can see the whole thing just as it happened as plainly as if itwere only yesterday, " said Max, quite animated over his recollections. "I must tell you all about it, Otto. You have probably heard from yourwife that we had here, in the happy time of our childhood, an oldschoolmaster, whose creed was that all faults could be whipped out of, and all virtues be whipped into, the children under his care. So he felthimself constrained to whip a great deal either for one thing or theother, and very often for both at once. Andrew's turn came one day, andthe master applied his well-meant rule so heartily that poor, thinAndrew screamed with pain. At this moment my little sister, who had onlyentered the school a short time before, and did not understand the rulesvery well, stood up from her seat and hastened to the door. The teacherheld his hand for a moment, and shouted after her, 'Where are yourunning to?' Marie turned about. The tears were running down her cheeks, and she said, very decidedly, 'I am going home to tell my father. ''Wait, I will teach you!' cried the master, in the greatest surprise, and sprung after the girl. He did not strike her, however, but took herroughly by the arm, and set her down very hard upon the bench; then hesaid again, 'Wait, I will teach you!'

"It was the end of that, however. He did not touch Andrew again, andevery thing passed off quietly that day. But the tears that Marie hadshed for Andrew, and her protest against the whippings, were notforgotten. From that day forward a big bunch of violets was alwaysplaced on Marie's desk, and the whole room was perfumed with them; andlater a still better scent filled the air, for there were every daygreat bunches of dark red strawberries, such as nobody else knew how tofind. And so it went on for the whole year; but how the friendshipreached the height at which it now stands, that I will leave to mysister to relate, for I do not know myself. "

The colonel was much pleased with this story of the tears and theviolets, and begged his wife to tell more about it. She said, "Accordingto you, Max, violets and strawberries grow all the year round; but, intruth, it is not exactly the fact. But it is true that the good Andrewwas never tired of bringing in any thing that he thought would give mepleasure all through the time we were in the school together. He leftlong before I did, and went to learn his trade of a joiner in the city. He came home very often, however, so that I never really lost sight ofhim; and when my husband bought this piece of land and we were married, it happened, also, that Andrew bought property, and wished to besettled. He had lost his parents, and was quite by himself, and afirst-rate workman. He wanted the little house with the neat, prettygarden down there half-way to the church; but was not able to purchaseit, because the owner wished for full payment at once, and Andrew couldonly pay in instalments, as he earned the money. 

"But we knew all about him and his work. My husband purchased the placefor him, and he has never had the least reason to regret it. "

"No, indeed I have not, " added the colonel. "Andrew has long ago paidfor his house, and now he always brings me the yearly amount of hislabor; and a very pretty sum it is, too. I invest it well for him, andhave a sincere satisfaction in the welfare of the sturdy fellow. He isalready a very well-to-do man, and adds to his property every year, andcan make his little house into a big one if he have a mind to do so, thegood Andrew. It is too bad that he is such a hermit, and cannot, therefore, properly enjoy his home and his possessions. "

"Has he, then, neither wife nor family?" asked Max. "And what has becomeof his disagreeable brother Jorg?"

"No; he has really nobody, " replied his sister. "He lives entirelyalone, and really like a hermit. He has had a long and very sad historythat I have been witness to, and which has taken away all the desire heonce might have felt to look for a wife. His brother Jorg wandered abouthere in a disreputable way for several years, never working, but in thehope of getting something, by his infamous behavior, out of his family, who were respectable people, quite unlike himself. But, at last, he sawthat there was no chance of this, and even the kind Andrew refused topay any more of his debts, or to help him out of any more scrapes, so hedisappeared, nobody knows where; but everybody rejoiced that he was outof the way. "

"What was the sad story of which you spoke, Marie?" asked her brother. "I want to hear that, too. "

"So do I, " said the colonel; and lighted another cigar, in order toenjoy the tale more thoroughly. 

"But, my dear husband, " objected his wife, "I have at least told youthis story ten times over. "

"Really, " said the colonel, quietly, "it seems that it pleases me then, if I ask for it again. "

"Oh, do begin!" said her brother. 

"You cannot have forgotten the child, Max, " began his sister, "of whom Iwas speaking yesterday, who lived quite near to us. She belonged to thepale, thin weaver, whose shuttle we could always hear moving back andforth when we stood in our garden. The child always looked clean andneat, and had great lively, sparkling eyes, and beautiful brown hair. Her name was Aloise. "

"I never knew anybody by the name of Aloise in my life, " interrupted Maxat this point. 

"Oh! to be sure not, " said his sister. "We never called her so, youespecially. 'Wisi' we called her, to the horror of our dear departedmother. Don't you remember, now, how often you said yourself that wemust get Wisi to sing with us when mamma played songs for us on thepiano, and we could not make it go at all without Wisi's help?"

At last Max seemed to remember about it, and laughed at therecollection. "Oh, yes! I remember Wisi, " he cried. "Yes, certainly thatwas Wisi. I can see her now, before my eyes, with her bright face, asshe stood by the piano and sang so cheerily. I was very fond of her. Iwas very fond of her, --of Wisi. She was very pretty, too. I remember, too, what a shock it always seemed to mamma when I said, 'Wisi. ' Ireally never knew her proper name. "

"Oh, yes, you did, " replied his sister; "because mamma always saidit was perfectly barbarous to change the pretty name of Aloiseinto 'Wisi. '"

"I certainly never heard it each time, " said Max. "But pray what hasbecome of this Wisi?"

"You remember she was in my class at school, and we kept along together;and I often think of how Andrew always befriended and stood up for thegirl through thick and thin, and that she knew well how to turn hisfriendship to good account. 

"When she came with her slate full of examples, like the rest of us, herfigures were not often correct; but she put the slate, with a merrylaugh, on her desk, and lo! soon the sums were all rightly set down, forAndrew had put them in order. It often happened that she smashed a panein the schoolroom window, or shook down the schoolmaster's plums in thegarden; and yet Andrew was always the one who took the blame of thesemisdeeds, --not that anybody accused him, but he himself used to say, half aloud, that he believed it was his fault that the glass was broken, or the plums shaken down, and so he got the punishment. We children allknew well enough who was to blame; but we let it go, we were so used toit, and were so fond of the merry Wisi, that we all were pleased whenshe escaped punishment. 

"Wisi had always pocketfuls of apples, pears, and nuts, that all camefrom Andrew; for every thing that he had, or could procure, he used tostuff into Wisi's satchel. I used often to wonder how it happened thatthe quiet Andrew liked the very most unruly and gayest girl in theschool, and I also wondered whether she returned his affection. She wasalways very friendly with him, but she was the same with others; and asI once asked our mother how it could be, she shook her head a little, and said, 'I am afraid, --I am afraid that the nice little Aloise is atrifle heedless, and may have to suffer for it. ' These words gave memuch food for thought, and recurred to me again and again. 

"We went together to the Bible-class; and every Sunday evening Wisi usedto come regularly to our house, and we sang hymns together to the piano. She particularly enjoyed this. She knew all the lovely songs by heart, and sang them clearly and well; and mamma and I were very much pleasedto know that Wisi liked to sing, and went gladly to the Bible-class, andseemed to take the religious teaching very much to heart. She had growninto a fine large girl now, with bright eyes; and, although she did notlook very strong, like the peasant girls in the villages, still she hada fine color, and was far prettier than any of them. 

"At this time Andrew was learning his trade in the town, but invariablycame home on Sundays. He always came up to the parsonage to call, andwas inclined to talk to me about our former schooldays; and graduallywe worked round to Wisi, and talked about her most of the time. Andrewspoke most eloquently and feelingly on this subject; and, althougheverybody else had adopted the name 'Wisi' for Aloise, he never calledher so, but said 'Wiseli' so softly and prettily, that it was verysweet to hear. 

"But one Sunday (we were not quite eighteen years old, Wisi andI, --mamma was with us that evening) Wisi came in looking very rosy, andsaid that she had come to tell us that she was betrothed to a youngworkman who had come lately to live in the village, and that they wouldsoon be married, as he had a good position, and it was arranged thatthey could be married in about twelve days. I was so surprised, and sosorry, that I could not say a word. Neither did my mother speak for along time, but looked very much troubled. 

"After a time she talked very seriously with Wisi, --told her that it wasfoolish in her to have taken up so quickly with a workman of whom shereally could know very little, and especially when there was another whohad sought her for long years, and plainly shown her how much he lovedher; and, at last, she asked her if it could not be broken off, thisengagement, --or, at least, put off for a while, Wisi was still so young, and ought to remain with her father. Then Wisi began to cry, and saidthat it was all arranged; that she had given her promise, and that herfather was pleased. So my mother said no more about it; but poor Wisicried bitterly, until my mother took her by the hand, and led her to thepiano, and said kindly, 'Dry your tears: we will sing together. ' And sheplayed the accompaniment, and we sang, --

 "'To God you must confide Your sorrow and your pain; He will true care provide, And show you heaven again. 

 "'For clouds and air and wind He points the path and way; Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. '

"After this, Wisi left us apparently comforted, and my mother spokekindly to her at parting; but I felt very sadly about the whole affair. I had a conviction that poor Wisi had passed her happiest days, andwould never be light-hearted again; and I could not express my sorrowfor Andrew. What would he say? He said nothing, --not one word, --but wentabout for several years like a shadow, and became more silent than ever, and had no longer the quietly happy expression that formerlydistinguished him. "

"Poor fellow!" cried Max. "And did he never marry?"

"Oh, no, Max!" replied his sister, rather reproachfully. "How could hedo so? How can you ask such a question? He is faithfulness personified. "

"How could I know that, dearest sister?" said Max soothingly. "I couldnot be expected to know that your gifted and inestimable friendpossessed also the quality of steadfastness. But tell me some more aboutWisi. I hope, truly, that the merry creature was not unfortunate. Itwould grieve me sadly to think that. "

"I see plainly, brother, that all your sympathies are secretly withWisi; and that you are not sorry for the faithful Andrew, whose heartwas nearly broken when he found that he had lost her. "

"Yes, yes, " said Max. "I have the greatest sympathy for the good fellow. But do tell me how it was with Wisi: did she cry her pretty eyes out?"

"Almost, I believe, " replied Marie. "I did not see her very often, andshe had a great deal of work to do. I believe that her husband was not abad fellow; but there was something very rough about him, and he wasrude and unkind even to his own little children. Wisi had a hard time ofit. She had a good many pretty children; but they were very delicate, and she lost them one after the other. Five she buried, and has only nowone tender little girl, --a little Wiseli, --who is not much larger thanour Pussy, though she is several years older. Naturally Wisi's healthhas been sadly tried with all this, and it is plainly visible now thatit has almost reached the end with her. She is rapidly wasting away inconsumption. I fear that there is no hope for her. "

"Oh!" cried Max, "is this possible? Is it really so bad as that? Cannothing be done, Marie? Let us look after her, and try if we cannot mendmatters somewhat. "

"Oh, no! there is no chance for her, " said his sister, sadly. "From thevery beginning Wisi was too delicate for all the work and care that cameupon her. "

"And what became of her husband?"

"Oh! I quite forgot the sad trouble that poor Wisi had to endurewith him also. 

"About a year ago, he broke an arm and a leg in the workshop, and wasbrought home half dead. He was very ill, and could not work, andcertainly was not a patient sufferer. Wisi had the care of him in hissickness, in addition to every thing else, and he died about sixmonths after the accident. Wisi has lived alone with her child sincethat time. "

"Then there will soon be nothing left but a little Wiseli, and what willbecome of her? But, no; it will not turn out so sadly, I am sure. Wisiwill get well, and every thing be right again, as it should have been inthe beginning. "

"No, not so, Max; it is too late for that, " replied his sister, decidedly. "Poor Wisi had to suffer sadly for her folly. But it is toolate indeed!" she said, rising, almost frightened to see that it wasafter midnight, and that the colonel, who had been silent for some timepast, was now sleeping in his arm-chair. 

Max was not in the least sleepy, however. All this story of poor Wisihad awakened in him such lively recollections of his childhood, thathe wanted to talk about many other events and people; but his sisterwas not to be persuaded. She took her bed-candle, and insisted upongoing to bed. 

There was nothing to be done but to awaken his brother-in-law, which hedid with such a tremendous thump on the back, that the colonel sprang upwith the feeling that he had been struck by an enemy's bomb-shell. ButMax tapped him kindly on the shoulder, saying, "It is only a gentlewarning from your wife that we must all beat a retreat. " This wasaccomplished, and soon the house on the height stood quietly in themoonlight; and half way down the hill stood another house, where itwould soon be silent, too, though a still feeble light glimmered there, casting a pale shadow through the little window out into the brilliantmoonlit night. 

CHAPTER III. 

ALSO AT HOME. 

At the same time that the colonel's children were going home, thelittle Wiseli ran along down the hill as fast as she could scamper, forshe knew she had remained away longer than her mother liked that sheshould, and she very rarely did any thing of the kind. This evening hadbeen one of such unusual pleasure for her that she had quite forgottento go home at the usual time, and therefore ran all the faster, and soalmost fell against a man, in her haste, who came out of the door oftheir cottage as she was rushing in. He stepped quietly to one side, and Wiseli hastened into the room, and went to her mother's side. Toher great surprise, she found no light in the room, --her mother wassitting in the twilight, on a low chair by the window. "Mother, " saidthe child, "are you angry because I was away such a long time?" and sheput her arms around her mother's neck as she spoke. "No, no, Wiseli, "said her mother, kindly; "but I am glad that you have come at last. "The girl began at once to tell her mother about the delightful coastshe had had on Otto's pretty sled, --how she had gone twice down thehill, and how pleasant it was. When she had finished her little story, she noticed, for the first time, how very quiet her mother was, --muchmore so than usual, --and she asked anxiously, "Why have you not lightedthe lamp, mother?"

[Illustration: WISELI HASTENED INTO THE ROOM, AND WENT TO HERMOTHER'S SIDE]

"I feel so weary this evening, Wiseli, " replied her mother, "that Icould not get up to light it. Go get it now, my child, and bring me alittle water to drink at the same time, I am so very thirsty. " Wiselihastened to the kitchen, and soon returned with the light in one hand, and in the other a bottle filled with red syrup, that looked sotemptingly clear and good, that the thirsty invalid called out eagerly, "What is that you are bringing me? It looks so good!"

"I do not know, " said the child; "it was standing on the kitchen-table. See how it sparkles!" Her mother took the bottle, and smelled at it. "Oh!" she said, smelling again, "it is like fresh, wild strawberries. Give me some water, quickly, Wiseli; I must drink. " The child pouredsome of the red syrup into a glass, and filled it with water, which hermother swallowed eagerly, as one parched with thirst. "You do not knowhow refreshing it is, child, " as she handed back the empty glass. "Putit away, Wiseli, but not far. It seems to me as if I could drink it allthe time, I am so thirsty. Who brought me this refreshment, Wiseli: doyou know? It must be from Trine: she brought it from the colonel's. "

"Did Trine come in here, mother?" asked the child. 

"No; I have not seen her at all, " said her mother. 

"Then it is not Trine, I am sure, " said Wiseli, decidedly. "She alwayscomes into the room when she brings anything for you. But Andrew thecarpenter came today: did not he bring this with him?"

"What, Wiseli, " said her mother, very eagerly, "what are you saying?Andrew the carpenter never came to see me: what made you think of that?"

"He was here, certainly; certainly he was here within this house. Hewent out of the door so quickly that I almost ran into him. Did you nothear him at all?"

Her mother was quiet for a long time without speaking; then she said, "Idid hear the kitchen door softly opened. At first I thought it might beyou, and--it is true, I did not hear you enter until later. Are yousure, Wiseli, that Andrew the carpenter was the person who went out fromour door?"

Wiseli was sure of her affair, and told her mother exactly how the coatand how the cap looked that Andrew wore, and how frightened he was whenshe almost ran into him; so that, at last, she convinced the good woman, who said softly, as if to herself, "Yes, it must be Andrew; he knowswhat I like best. "

"Now I remember something else, mother, " cried Wiseli, quite excitedly. "Now I know for sure who once placed a big pot of honey in thekitchen, --you remember how much you liked that, --and then theapple-cakes a day or two ago, --do not you remember? You wished to sendyour thanks by Trine when she brought you something from the colonel'skitchen, and she said that she knew nothing at all about them. Now I amsure that Andrew the carpenter brought them, and secretly placed them inthe kitchen for you. "

"Now I believe so, also, " said her mother, and softly wiped her eyes. 

"There is nothing sad about it, mother, " said Wiseli, rather shocked tosee how often her mother kept wiping her eyes. 

"You must thank him for me, Wiseli: I cannot. Tell him that I send himmy thanks for all the goodness he has shown me, --he has always been kindto me. Come, sit down here by me a little, " said she, softly. "Give mesome more of the syrup, and then come and repeat the verse that I taughtyou the other day. "

Wiseli brought more water, and mixed it with the syrup again, and hermother drank of it eagerly; then she laid her head wearily upon the lowwindow-sill, and beckoned her little daughter to come to her side. Itseemed to the child that her mother could not be comfortable, and shefetched a pillow from the bed, and placed it carefully under hermother's head. Then she sat down close to her side on a footstool, andheld her mother's hand in her own, and complied with her request torepeat the verses, thus, --

 "'To God you must confide Your sorrow and your pain; He will true care provide, And show you heaven again. 

 "'For clouds and air and wind He points the path and way; Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. '"

As Wiseli finished, she observed that her mother was almost asleep; butshe heard her say, softly, "Think of this, my Wiseli; and when you donot know which way to turn, and every thing seems difficult andperplexing, then say to yourself these words, --

 "'Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. '"

Now the weary head sank down to rest, and little Wiseli would not awakenher mother by a movement, but nestled up to her quietly, and slept also. And the feeble light of the little lamp burned dimly in the quietroom, --more and more feebly it burned, until it slowly flickered andwent out, and the cottage stood a dark object in the bright moonlight. 

The next morning the neighbor from the nearest house stopped, as usual, on her way to the fountain, to look through the window of the cottage tosee if all was well within. She saw that the sick woman was sleeping onthe pillow, with her head against the window-sill, and that Wiseli stoodweeping by her side. This seemed so strange, that she put her head alittle way into the room, and asked, "What is the matter, Wiseli? Isyour mother worse?" The child sobbed dreadfully, and could scarcely say, "I do not know what ails my mother. "

The poor child had a strong suspicion of what it all meant, but shecould not realize that her mother was lost to her. For she was stillthere, but asleep, --asleep for all the rest of her daughter's life onearth, --and could not hear how sadly the child called to her. Theneighbor stepped to the window and looked at the sleeping head upon thepillow; then she started back in alarm. "Run quickly, Wiseli; run andfetch your cousin Gotti. He must come at once. You have no otherrelation, and somebody must look after things here. Run as fast as youcan: I will wait here until you come back. "

The child ran, but not fast, her heart was so heavy within her, and herlimbs trembled; and at last she had to stop and give way to her tears, for she became more and more sure, with every step, that her motherwould never waken more. But she went on again soon, although she couldnot stop her tears, for her sorrow increased as she went. In the beechgrove, full a quarter of an hour's walk from the church, stood thehouse of her cousin Gotti; and presently Wiseli entered the door, stillcrying bitterly. Her cousin's wife stood in the kitchen, and askedharshly, "What is the matter with you?" Wiseli replied, between hersobs, that the neighbor had sent her to ask her cousin Gotti to comequickly to her mother. Probably the woman suspected, from the child'slook, that her mother was more ill, for she spoke a little less roughlythan usual. "I will tell him. You can go home: he is not here now. " SoWiseli turned about, and reached home more quickly than she came, forshe was returning to her mother. The neighbor stood by thedoorstep, --she could not wait inside the room: it was not pleasant toher. But the child stepped in, and went to her place by her mother'sside that she had kept all through the night. There she sat weeping, and only said, now and then, softly, "Mother. " But no answering wordcame to her. At last Wiseli said, bending over her, "Mother, you canhear me, although you are in heaven now, and I cannot hear youranswer. " And the child sat holding her mother's hand tightly until longafter noontime. About that time her cousin Gotti entered the room, looked about him a little, and then called for the neighbor. "You mustarrange things here a little, --you know what I mean, " he said, --"sothat things will be ready for the removal. Then carry the keys awaywith you, so that nothing will be taken. " He then turned to Wiseli andsaid, "Where are your clothes, little one? Get them together and tiethem up in a bundle, and we will go away. "

"Where shall we go?" asked the child. 

"We will go home to the beech grove. You can stay there with us, for youhave nobody else in the world now but your cousin Gotti. "

At these words, Wiseli felt herself stiff with fear. Go to the beechgrove, and live with them there, --was that her fate? She had always hadthe greatest fear of the wife of her cousin Gotti, and always stood along time before the door, when she was sent there with a message, before she could summon courage to enter. The eldest son, Cheppi, --thatrough fellow, --lived there, and Hannes and Rudi; and they threw stonesat all the children. Was that to be her home?

Fear caused the child to turn pale and immovable. 

"You must not be frightened, my child, " said her cousin Gotti, in akindly tone. "There are more people in our house than there are here, but it is all the more lively for that. "

Wiseli put her things silently together in a shawl, and tied the twocorners together crosswise; then she tied her scarf about her head, andstood ready. 

"So, " said her cousin, "now we will go, " and turned towards the door;but Wiseli sobbed out suddenly, --

"Then I must leave my mother all alone. "

With these words she ran to her mother, and clasped her in herarms again. 

Her cousin Gotti stood rather disconcerted, and looked on. He did notknow how to explain how things were with her mother, if she did notunderstand without words; for he was not strong in the matter ofexpressing himself: he had never given himself the trouble to try. Atlast, he said, --

"Now come, come along. A little child like you must be obedient. Come;and, after this, no crying. That does not mend matters one bit. "

The child swallowed her sobs, and followed the cousin Gotti silentlythrough the door. Once only she glanced backward, and said softly, "Godwill watch over you, mother;" and then went forth with her bundle on herarm, and left the little house which had been home to her. Just as sheand her cousin Gotti went together across the field, Trine came towardsthem down the road, with a covered basket on her arm. The neighbor stoodin the doorway, and looked after the departing couple. Trine wenttowards her, saying, --

"To-day I am bringing the sick woman something good. A little late, tobe sure. We have Uncle Max on a visit to us: that always makes me late. "

"And even if you had come early in the morning, you would have come toolate to-day. She died last night. "

"That cannot be!" cried Trine, startled. "Oh, goodness me! what will mylady say?"

With these words she turned sharp about, and ran home as fast aspossible. The neighbor went back into the quiet room, and performed thelast kind offices for Wiseli's mother. 

CHAPTER IV. 

AT COUSIN GOTTI's. 

When Wiseli made her entry into her cousin Gotti's house at Beech Grove, the three boys came running out of the barn, and, behind Wiseli, intothe room, where they placed themselves in front of her in a row, andstared at the timid little thing with all their eyes. Her cousin's wifecame out of the kitchen, and stared also at the little thing, as if shehad never seen her before. 

Her cousin Gotti seated himself behind the table, and said, --

"I think she can eat something: she has not had much to-day. Come here, "he said, turning to Wiseli, who stood all this time in the same place, with her bundle under her arm. She obeyed. Now her cousin's wife put newwine and cheese on the table, also a huge loaf of black bread. CousinGotti cut a big slice, put a lump of cheese upon it, and pushed ittowards the child. "There, eat, little one, " he said. "You must behungry, I'm sure. "

"No, I thank you, " said Wiseli, softly. She could not have swallowedeven a crumb. She felt as if she were crushed under her load of sorrowand anxiety, and could scarcely even breathe. 

The boys stood there all the time, and stared at her. 

"Don't be frightened, " said cousin Gotti, encouragingly. "Do eatsomething. " But the child sat motionless, and did not touch her bread. Her cousin's wife came again; and, putting her hands on her hips, stoodlooking her over from head to foot. 

"If you don't want it, " she said, "you can leave it;" and turned on herheel, and went again into the kitchen. 

When cousin Gotti had refreshed himself sufficiently he arose, and said, "Put it in your pocket. By and by you will feel like eating, only do notfeel frightened;" and he went into the kitchen. Wiseli tried to do as hetold her, to put the bread and cheese into her pocket; but they were toolarge, and she put them back upon the table again. 

"I will help you, " said Cheppi, snatching the pieces from the table; andwas about to stuff them into his open mouth, but they flew up into theair instead, for Hannes had knocked Cheppi's hand up with a smart blow, and so the plunder was scattered, and Rudi darted upon it, and carriedpart of it away. With this the two oldest boys fell upon him, and theykicked and cuffed, and screamed and shouted, until Wiseli was terriblyfrightened. Presently their father opened the kitchen-door, and calledout, "What does this all mean?" Then the boys all answered at once, fromthe floor; and one said, "Wiseli did not want it;" and another, "Wiselihad not any;" and "As long as Wiseli did not want any"--

Their father called out, loudly, "If you do not stop that, I will comein with the thong, and whip you. " And he slammed the door again. 

"It" did not "stop, " however; but, as soon as the door was shut again, it began worse than ever, for Hannes found that the best way to treatthe enemy was to grasp him by the hair; and so they all seized eachother by the hair, and stood in a ring, uttering terrible noises. In thekitchen their mother sat on a stool, and peeled potatoes. When herhusband closed the door again, she asked, --

"What is your idea about that child? Why did you bring her home withyou at once?"

"I thought she would have to stay with somebody. I am her cousin Gotti, and she has no other relatives. You can make her useful. She can do whatyou are doing now. Then you will be able to do other things. You arealways saying that the boys give you so much work, --more than is right. "

"Yes, as regards them, a great help she will be! You can hear now whata racket there is in there, and she is only a quarter of an hour inthe house. "

"I have heard that sort of thing a good many times before the little onecame. I do not think that she has much to do with it, " said the cousinGotti quietly. 

"Oh, you did not hear them!" said his wife sharply; "how they keptcalling out something about Wiseli?"

"Well, they may call out, if they want to, " said their father. "You willsoon have the little one in hand. I think she is not a troublesomechild, --I noticed that in the beginning, --and is much more obedient thanthose boys of yours. "

This was too much for his wife. 

"I do not see what is the use of finding fault with the boys, " she said;and she peeled the potatoes faster and faster. "And I _should_ like toknow where the girl is to sleep. "

Her husband pushed his cap back and forth several times upon his head, and said, soothingly, --

"One can't think of every thing at once. She must have had a bed tosleep in; and she can, at least, have that. Tomorrow I will go to thepastor. To-night she can sleep on the bench by the stove. It is alwayswarm there; and I can put a partition in the little passage that goesinto our room later, and set her bed in there. "

"I never heard of bringing home a child and getting a bed for it a weekafterwards, " said the woman crossly; "and I should like to know who willpay for it if we must build something more for her into the bargain. "

"When the parish assigns the child to us, they will allow us somethingfor her maintenance. I shall take her cheaper than any one else woulddo, and she will be more comfortable here too. "

With this the cousin went out into the shed, and called out for Cheppito come with him. It was hard for the cousin's wife to make herselfheard in the room when she wished to give this message. They were allfighting away, and shouting angrily and loudly. 

"I am surprised that you sit there looking on, and do not try to quietthem in the least, " said their mother to Wiseli, who sat coweringagainst the wall, and did not dare even to move. Cheppi, however, wasdispatched to the barn, and the two others ran after him. 

"Do you know how to knit?" the cousin's wife asked Wiseli, who replied, timidly, "Yes, I can knit stockings. "

"Well, then, take this, " she said; and took from the cupboard a bigbrown stocking, with yarn almost as stout as Wiseli's little fingers. "Go on with the foot, " she said, "and take care to make it bigenough: it is for your cousin Gotti. " Then she went back into thekitchen, and the little girl took her seat on the bench by the stove, with the long stocking coiled up in her lap, --for it was so heavythat she could scarcely knit if it hung down: it pulled the needlesout of her hand. She had scarcely begun to work, however, before hercousin's wife came in again. 

"I think you had better come out into the kitchen with me, " she said. "Then you can see how I do things, and be able to help me a little byand by. " Wiseli obeyed, and watched her cousin's wife at her work aswell as she was able; but the tears kept coming into her eyes so thatshe could scarcely see, for she thought all the time of how she used togo about in the kitchen with her mother, who chattered so pleasantlywith her, and how they would stop to kiss each other now and then. Sheknew very well that she ought not to give way to her tears, and tried toswallow her sobs, until she felt almost strangling. 

"See here, look here, " said the cousin's wife, every now and then; "thenyou will know how to do it by and by. " And she went about, here andthere, in the kitchen, letting Wiseli stand, and said nothing else toher. This went on for some time, when there was a terrible stamping inthe entry, and the woman said, "Open the door as quick as you can: theyare coming. " The noise was made by the cousin and his sons, who wereknocking the snow off their shoes before entering. Wiseli opened thedoor into the inner room as quickly as possible; and the cousin's wifelifted an enormous pan off the fire, and ran with it into the room, where she shook a great heap of potatoes out over the slate-toppedtable. Then she brought out a big jug of sour milk, and said, "Put thethings that are in the table-drawer on the table, and then they can allsit down at once. "

Wiseli pulled out the drawer as quickly as possible. There lay fivespoons and five knives. She put these upon the table, and the supper wasready. The father and his sons came in, and sat down at once on theseats along the wall behind the table. At the other end stood a chair. Cousin Gotti made a motion towards the chair and said, "She can sitthere, I think; or do you say no?"

"Oh, certainly!" said his wife, whose seat was nearest the kitchen-door. She did not remain seated a moment; but ran out into the kitchen andcame back, took a spoonful of milk, and was off again. 

Nobody knew why she ran about in this way, for there was nothing cookingin the kitchen, and nothing to bring out, but she always did so; andwhen, sometimes, her husband would say, "Do sit still, and eatsomething, " then she seemed more hurried than ever, and said she had notime to sit still, there were so many things to be looked after. 

When she had made two visits to the kitchen and returned, and began topeel a potato in great haste, she noticed, for the first time, thatWiseli sat idly by her side, her hands on her lap. "Why don't you eatsomething?" she said, angrily. "She has no spoon, " said Rudi, who wasseated on the other side, and had long been wondering why anybody shouldsit at table and not eat as long as there was any thing left. "Oh, yes, of course, " said his mother. "Who would ever have thought that we shouldneed six spoons? We have always found five enough; and we must haveanother knife too. Why can't you speak? You know well enough that to eatyou want a spoon. " These last words were addressed to Wiseli. 

The child glanced timidly at the woman and said, "It is no matter: I donot need any. I am not hungry. "

"Why not?" asked the woman. "Are you used to a different kind of food? Idon't mean to change, if you are. "

"I think it would be better to let the child alone for a while; we mustnot frighten her, " said her cousin Gotti, soothingly. "She will feelbetter soon. "

So Wiseli was unmolested, and the others were busily employed for awhile. She sat there motionless until her cousin rose, took his fur capfrom the nail, and began to look for the stable lantern; for "Spot" wassick, and must be looked after again that night. The table was quicklycleared. The empty potato-skins were brushed off into the emptymilk-jug, the slate-top wiped off; and when the woman was done withthis, she said, turning to Wiseli, "You have seen what I did; now youcan do it the next time. " Now Cheppi took his seat firmly behind thetable again. He had his slate-pencil and arithmetic book, and preparedhimself to do his examples. First, however, he stared for a while atWiseli, who had again taken up her brown stocking, but did not make anyprogress; for she could not see a thing in the dark corner where shewas seated, and she did not dare to draw nearer to the table where thedim lamp was placed. "You must have something to do, " cried Cheppi, inan irritated tone. "You are not the smartest scholar in the school. "The girl did not know what to answer. She had not been to school thatday, and did not know what lessons were given out; and, besides, wasquite out of her usual habits and life generally. "If I must do myexamples, so must you, or I won't do them at all, " cried Cheppi again. Wiseli kept as still as a mouse. "Well, then, it is all right, " saidthe boy noisily. "I won't do another stroke of work. " And he threw awayhis pencil. 

"Then I won't do any thing, either, " cried Hannes, and stuffed hismultiplication-table into his satchel again; for learning his lessonswas the hardest thing in the world for him. 

"I will tell the master whose fault it is, " began Cheppi again. "You cansee, then, what you will get. "

Probably Cheppi would have gone on in this unpleasant style for a longtime, if his father had not soon returned from the barn. He brought intwo big, empty grain-bags on his shoulders, and came up to the tablewith them. 

"Make room, " he said to Cheppi, who sat with his elbows on the table, supporting his head on his hands. Then he spread out his two bags, folded them together again, and then again. At last he went towards thebench behind the stove, and put them down on it. "There, " he said, withan air of satisfaction, "that is good. Where is your bundle, littleone?" Wiseli fetched it from her corner, --where it had lain ever sinceshe arrived, --and looked with surprise at her cousin Gotti as he placedthe bundle at the upper end of the folded bags, and pressed it down, sothat it was not perfectly round. 

"There, now you may go to sleep, " he said, turning round to Wiseli. "Youcannot be cold, for the stove is hot; and you can put your head on yourbundle, and you will be as comfortable as if you were in your bed. 

"And it is time for you three to go to bed, too. Off with you: makehaste!" So saying, he took the oil-lamp from the table, and went towardsthe kitchen. The three boys clattered along after him. 

When he reached the door, he turned again and said, "There, sleepsoundly. Must not think any more to-night, and it will be better for youby and by, " and he went out. Presently his wife came into the room withan oil-lamp in her hand, and looked at the place where Wiseli was tosleep. "Can you lie there?" she asked. "You will find it warm enough bythe stove. There are plenty of people who have neither bed nor a warmplace to be in. You won't suffer in that way, and ought to be thankfulthat you are under a good roof. Good-night. "

"Good-night, " replied Wiseli, softly; but the woman could not haveheard her, for she was already away when she spoke, and had closed thedoor behind her immediately. Now Wiseli sat alone in the dark room. Every thing about her was suddenly silent, --not a sound to be heard. Astraggling moonbeam shone through the little window, --enough to showthe child where the bench by the stove was, upon which she must findher bed. She crossed the room, and seated herself there. For the firsttime that day since she had left her dear mother, she found herselfalone, and able to think over what had befallen her. She had beenconstantly under excitement until this moment; for every thing thathad happened frightened her. All that she heard or saw since she lefther home had been so very unpleasant that she could not stop to thinkat all, but went from one alarm to another. Now there she sat alone, without her mother, and began to realize that it was all over, --thatthey would never see nor hear each other again in this world. And sucha sense of loneliness, of utter desolation, took possession of Wiseli, that she believed herself uncared for and forgotten by everybody, andfeared that she should be left there alone to die in the dark. Thepoor child laid her head down upon her bundle, and began to cry, bitterly and despairingly, "Mother, can you not hear me? Mother, donot you hear me call?"

Now Wiseli's mother had often told her little girl, that when thingswent very badly with us here below, then was the moment to lift up ourvoices and cry to God for help; for he would hear us in our trouble whenall other's ears were deaf, and help us when no other help was possible. At this moment the child remembered these words, and she sobbed aloud, "Oh, you dear God in heaven! help me also, I am so unhappy, and mymother cannot hear me when I call!"

And when she had prayed thus several times over, she felt calmer. Itcomforted her poor little heart; for now she felt that God was reallythere in heaven, and could help her, and that she was no longer alone. And presently she recalled her mother's words, --almost the very lastthat she spoke: "My child, when you cannot see your way clearly beforeyou, and every thing seems strange and difficult"--And now it was so;and how little she thought that it ever would be so, when her mother wastalking to her. Her mother told her to remember the words of the hymn, --

 "Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. "

Now Wiseli first rightly understood these words, and felt their fullmeaning. Before she had repeated them mechanically, for not until nowdid she need them. But it was just her present case. Was not she full ofperplexity? and what could she possibly have in her cousin Gotti's housebut fear and trouble? And so she repeated, again and again, --

 "Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. "

The child had found her way to her heavenly Father, and knew that he wassure to help her; and she felt comforted. Folding her little hands, shebegan the hymn at the beginning, for it seemed like talking to a kindfriend; and she said each word from her very heart:--

 "To God you must confide Your sorrow and your pain; He will true care provide, And show you heaven again. 

 "For clouds and air and wind He points the path and way; Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. "

A quiet trust now took possession of the child's heart. She fell asleepsoon after, her head supported on her little bundle, still repeating thelast lines of the hymn. And a pleasant dream followed. She saw beforeher a dry bright pathway in the full sunlight, and the road led betweenbeautiful red roses and lovely pinks that were so attractive that shelonged to run to gather them. And by her side stood her dear mother, andheld her hand tenderly in her own, as she always did; and her motherpointed along the pathway in her dream, and said, "See, my Wiseli; didnot I tell you so? That is your way. "

 "'Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. '"

And the child was happy in her dream, and slept as soundly on her littlebundle as if she were on a soft bed. 

CHAPTER V. 

HOW TIME WENT ON, AND SUMMER CAME. 

When old Trine carried the news back to the heights, and told themthere that Wiseli's mother was dead, and the child taken at once to hercousin Gotti's, the whole family became greatly agitated. Mrs. Rittercould not cease bewailing her neglect in not visiting the sick womanbefore, for she had been postponing it from day to day; but, of course, had not in the least realized how near the end might be. She was sadlycast down, and sorrowful. And Otto: he went raging up and down the roomwith great strides, and kept calling out angrily, "It is an injustice!It is a great injustice! But if he dares to lay a hand on her to harmher, he may look to his own bones, how many of them will be left wholein his skin!"

"Who do you mean, Otto? Who are you talking about in that way?" said hismother, looking curiously at her excited boy. 

"About that Cheppi, " he replied. "I do not know what dreadful things hewill do to Wiseli when he has her there in his own house. It is notright, but just let him try"--But now Otto was interrupted by a repeatedand heavy stamping that prevented his being heard. "Why do you make sucha deafening noise, you pussy cat, there behind the stove?" he cried, turning his indignation towards another quarter. Pussy came out frombehind the stove, but stamped more violently than before; for she wastrying to force her feet into her wet boots, which it had taken the oldTrine ever so long to pull off a while before. It was dreadfully hardwork; and Pussy became as red as fire, while she said, --

"Don't you see that I have to do so? Nobody in the world could get theseboots on without stamping. "

"And what in the world do you want to put those wet boots on again for?I have just pulled them off, so that you should not have them on. Ishould just like to know what this means?" said Trine, who stood lookingon all this time. 

"I am going to the beech grove this very minute to fetch Wiseli toour house. She can have my bed, " said Pussy, decidedly. But quite asdecidedly old Trine stalked over to Pussy, at these words, lifted herup, placed her firmly on a chair, while she pulled off the boot thatwas half on; but said, in a pacifying tone, to the kicking andexcited child, --

"That is all right! that is all right! but I will take care of youfirst. You must not get two pair of shoes and two pair of stockings wetthrough in one day. You can give up your bed. You can go up into thelumber-room, if you want to: there is room enough there. "

But Pussy had a very different plan in her little head. She thoughtthat she could free herself, in this wise, of a great and dailyrecurring trouble, that often gave her both inward and outwardannoyance; namely, the being ordered off to bed every evening, andobliged to go, into the bargain, just as she was in the mood to enjoyherself especially. She thought that, if she gave up her bed to Wiseli, there would be none other at hand for her, and so she could stay up aslong as she wanted to. 

She was so delighted at this prospect, that she did not, at first, notice how the sly Trine had wisked off her wet boots, and that nowthere was no chance to fetch Wiseli. 

When she fairly understood how she had been tricked, she set up such anoutcry that Otto put his fingers in his ears, and her mother came in, agood deal alarmed at the uproar. She promised Pussy to talk over thematter with her father as soon as he came home; for he had gone awaythat very morning, with their Uncle Max, to pay a long-promised visit toan old friend. After a while peace and quiet were restored in thehousehold. The gentlemen did not return for two weeks, however; but Mrs. Ritter kept her promise. The first thing that she mentioned to herhusband, on the very evening of his return, was the fact of Wiseli beingan orphan, and her new shelter; and the colonel promised to go to thepastor the very next day, to see what better arrangement could be madefor the child; and, having visited the pastor, the colonel brought backthe sad news, that, on the Sunday just past, the parish had taken thematter into consideration, and that it was now settled. Wiseli must behoused somewhere; and, as her mother had not left any property whatever, she must also be maintained at the expense of the parish until she couldsupport herself. Moreover, her cousin Gotti had offered, in the firstinstance, to take the child for a very slight compensation. He wished todo an act of charity as far as he could afford it. He was known to be awell-conducted man; and, as he made so slight a demand, it was agreedand settled that the child should henceforth find her home with him. 

"It seems to me a very good arrangement, " said the colonel to his wife. "The child will be well cared for there; besides, what else could bedone? She is much too small to be placed anywhere in service, andcertainly you cannot take every orphan child in the neighborhood intoyour own house. You might as well turn it into an asylum at once. "

Mrs. Ritter was very much disturbed by the news that every thing hadbeen settled so soon. She had hoped to be able to have found a differenthome for Wiseli, who was, she knew, much too sensitive and delicate achild to be happy in a home where rudeness and roughness were the rule;but she had not a definite plan in her mind, and now there was nothingto be done but to try to look after the child's comfort a little, and toprotect her, if possible. 

Otto and Pussy did not take the affair so quietly, however. They were ingreat excitement when they heard it all on the following morning. 

Otto declared Wiseli's lot to be the lot of Daniel in the lion's den, and brought his fist down on the table with the evident wish that hewere pommelling Cheppi's head. Pussy screamed, and cried a little;partly out of pity for Wiseli, and partly from disappointment that shecould not now carry out her little plan of being able to sit up later inthe evenings. 

But this excitement was at last quieted down, like every other, by time;and the days rolled on in their wonted manner. 

In the meantime Wiseli has become somewhat accustomed to the life in hercousin Gotti's house. For one thing, her bed had come; and she no longerslept on the bench by the stove, but in a little place partitioned offfrom the passage between her cousin's room and that of the boys. Therewas just room enough in this little place for her bed, and a littlechest, in which she placed her clothes, and upon which she had to climbwhen she wished to get into her bed; for there was no space between. 

She was obliged to go to the well when she washed; and, if it was verycold, then her cousin's wife said she could give up washing for thatday, and do it on another when it was warmer. Now Wiseli was not used tothis style of thing at all. Her mother had taught her that cleanlinesswas absolutely necessary; and Wiseli would have frozen rather than tolook untidy, and, therefore, displease her mother. To be sure, everything was different for her at home; for she washed and dressed herselfin her mother's room always; and many a loving word they exchanged untilthe coffee was on the table, and they sat down together, and ate theirbreakfast happily, before Wiseli started off for school. 

But what a difference for her now! All, all was changed, --her whole lifefrom morning till evening; and often, at the thought of her mother, thetears started into the poor child's eyes, and her heart ached so sadly, that she felt as if she could go no farther, but must drop down, anddie. But she held herself bravely, for it distressed her cousin Gotti tosee her cry, and his wife scolded more than ever; for she, too, dislikedto see her dull. 

The happiest part of the twenty-four hours for Wiseli was when sheclimbed into her little bed at night, and had a moment's time to thinkabout her dear mother in peace. 

At this time she always obtained comfort. She thought about herbeautiful dream, and felt perfect confidence that the good God wouldfind a way for her out of her troubles, as her mother had told her; andshe hoped that her mother was also in heaven, and would pray to God notto forget her poor little child left alone in the wide world. ThenWiseli always repeated her hymn, and slept quietly. 

So the winter slipped away, and the spring with its sunshine followed. The trees were green again, and the meadows were gay with primroses andwhite anemones, and in the wood the cuckoo sang lustily; and soft, warmbreezes were all abroad, making every heart beat more cheerily; and onerejoiced that life was still possible. 

Wiseli also rejoiced over the flowers and the sunshine, especially whenshe went to and from school. Beyond this she had little time forenjoyment, for she had so much work to do. Every moment out of schoolshe had to employ in some useful occupation; and, indeed, often wasobliged to stay away from school for a half-day at a time, there was somuch to be done that could not be neglected, as her cousin Gotti, andparticularly his wife, were forever telling her. The cultivation of thefields had begun, and also the garden work; and when her cousin's wifewas in the garden, then Wiseli had to wash the cooking utensils, and hadthe hogs' trough to cleanse and carry back to the barn; and then theboys' stockings and shirts must be mended, and her cousin's wife alwayssaid, "Oh, the child can do that, she has nothing else to do;" and yetshe never was idle a single moment, and felt almost giddy at times, because she was called from one piece of work to another before she hadtime to breathe. Moreover, she found that if, for example, she ran overto the field with the seed-potatoes that her cousin Gotti was callingfor, then his wife would scold because she had not made the kitchen-firefor the supper, as she was bidden to do; but if she stopped to make thefire, then she was found fault with by Cheppi because she had not mendedthe hole in his jacket-sleeve he had told her to long ago; and everybodycalled out, "Why don't you do this, or why don't you do that? you havenothing else to do. " She was glad to go to school whenever she wasallowed to go, for she was quiet for a while then; and, moreover, inthat place the poor child heard a pleasant word now and again. For eachtime that recess came, or they left school to go home, Otto would cometo her, and talk with her pleasantly for a while, or give her aninvitation from his mother to visit them on Sunday evening and playgames with the children. Poor Wiseli could never avail herself of thesecharming invitations, because on Sunday she had always to make thecoffee for the family; and her cousin's wife said that she could notthink of letting the child go away to visit on the only day when she wasreally of some use to her. But the child was glad that Otto always askedher, though she could not go, and that he always spoke kindly to her;for those were the only friendly acts or words that she knew ofnowadays. There was still another reason that made it pleasant forWiseli to go to school, and that was the passing by Andrew thecarpenter's pretty garden on her way there. She always paused and lookedover the low hedge, hoping that she might catch sight of the carpenter;for she had her mother's message to deliver, and never ceased hoping tofind the opportunity. She was far too shy to go into the house for thatpurpose. She felt that she did not know Andrew well enough to venture todo that. She was particularly timid with him, because he was so veryquiet, and always looked at her kindly when they met, but never spoke;or, at least, never said more than a kindly word in passing. And she hadnever succeeded in catching even a glimpse of him, no matter how longshe stood by the hedge and looked over. 

May passed, and June. The long days of summer came, with more and morework to be done in the fields, and work that was ever hotter and hotter. Wiseli felt this keenly when her cousin Gotti called her out to helpwith the haymaking, and the heavy rake was so hard for her to lift; or, worse still, to handle the clumsy wooden fork when the hay neededspreading in the sun to dry. 

She often was obliged to work in the fields, and in the evening was sotired out that she could scarcely move her poor little arms. She neverfretted, however, for she thought it was necessary and right; but often, when she was still for a moment in the evening, it hurt her sadly tohear Cheppi call out, "You ought to do your examples in arithmetic now, as I do. You are never doing any thing out of school, and in the classesyou are always behind the others. "

She would have liked to study and get on at her lessons, if she couldonly have gone regularly to school, and been able to keep up with theclass. She was well aware that she was far behind her schoolmates; butwhat could she do, when she only got a little here and there, and allwas confused for her, and she never knew what lessons were given out forthe out-of-school studies. When she came quite unprepared to school, andcould not answer the questions put to the class, she was overwhelmedwith mortification, especially when the teacher would say, before allthe other children, "I did not expect to see you so behindhand, Wiseli, --you of all others, who used to be so clever at your books. "Then she used to feel fit to sink through the floor for shame, and wouldcry all the way as she walked home. But she did not dare to answerCheppi back when he taunted her, because then he would begin to cry andscold, and make a noise, until his mother came in, when she, too, wouldreproach her with being behind her classes, because Cheppi said she was. So Wiseli often kept back her tears, and only gave way when she wasalone; and sometimes it did seem to her as if she were quite forgottenby her heavenly Father and her mother, and as if nobody in the wholeworld cared for her; and she was too sad at heart even to say hercomforting hymn for a long time; but she could not rest nor sleep untilshe had done so, even though there was little satisfaction for her inthe words. 

One beautiful evening in July Wiseli slept, after a sad time of weeping, and could not obtain an answer, the next morning, to her question ofwhether she might go to school with the boys. 

Off scampered the boys. She looked sadly after them through the openwindow as they sprang away gayly through the flower-besprinkled grass, and chased a cloud of white butterflies along in front of them as theyran through the brilliant sunshine. 

Her cousin's wife had prepared the big wash, --this was the work laid outfor the whole week. Must Wiseli work there too?

Yes: already she heard a calling from the kitchen, and her cousin Gotticalled her by name, --he stood at the well, and saw her looking out ofthe window. 

"Make haste, make haste, Wiseli; it is time to be off: the boys arehalf-way to school. All the hay is in: make haste and go too. " She didnot wait till he told this twice. Like a flash she snatched her satcheland was off. 

"Tell the teacher that I have not sent him his money for a long time, but he must not be vexed at that, we have had so much work with the haythis summer. "

How happy the child felt as she flew along! She need not stand all dayat the wash-tub: she could go instead to school. How beautiful it waseverywhere about! The birds sang more sweetly than ever from thetrees, the grass was scented, and the pretty red and yellow flowersglistened in the sun. Wiseli could not stop to enjoy them, --it was toolate for that, --but she felt the beauty as she ran along, and rejoicedat every step. 

That same evening, just as all the children streamed out of theclose schoolroom into the beautiful afternoon light, the teachercalled out, with his serious face peering into the little crowd, "Whose week is this?"

"Otto's, Otto's, " called the whole company at once, and ran off. 

"Otto, " said the teacher, earnestly, "yesterday it was not swept up hereat all. I excuse you for once; but do not let it happen again, or I mustpunish you, boy. "

Otto looked for a moment at all the nut-shells and apple-parings andbits of paper that lay scattered about the floor waiting to be brushedup; then he turned his head quickly away, and scampered out of the door, for the teacher had disappeared into his own part of the house. Ottostood outside and gazed about him at the golden sunset, and thought, "IfI could go home now, I could get a capful of cherries, and I could ridethe brown horse home from the field when the groom fetches the hay; andnow I must stay here instead, and sweep up these scraps from the floor!"And Otto was so angry over this unpleasant task, that he scowled abouthim, saying, "I wish the day of judgment would come, and carry off theschoolhouse, and break it up into a thousand pieces!" But every thingwas still and peaceful all about, and not a sign of any such ravagingearthquake to be seen or heard. 

After a while Otto turned back towards the schoolroom-door with a savagedetermination, for he knew that he must bite into his sour apple, or bepunished the next day by having to sit still during recess; and he wouldnot run the risk of that disgraceful punishment. He entered the room, but stood still with surprise as soon as he stepped past the threshold. Every thing was brushed up in the school-room: not a scrap nor bit to beseen anywhere. The windows all stood wide open, and the soft eveningbreeze blew through the quiet room. Just then the teacher came out ofhis own room and looked about him, and at the staring Otto, and said, pleasantly, "You may well look about you with satisfaction. I did notthink that you could do it so well. You are a good scholar; but you havesurpassed yourself to-day in cleaning up, for I never saw it so neatlydone before. "

So saying, the teacher went away; and after Otto had convinced himselfby a last glance that what he saw was fact, and no witchcraft, he dasheddown the steps, two at a time, across the little place and up thehillside: and not until he began to tell it all to his mother did hebegin to wonder to whom he was indebted for this good turn. 

"Nobody has done it through a mistake, that is certain, " said hismother. "Have not you some good friend who is noble enough to sacrificehimself in this way for you? Think over all of them: who can it be?"

"I know, " cried Pussy, who had been listening eagerly. 

"Yes; pray who?" said Otto, half curiously, half incredulously. 

"Jack, the mouse, " explained Pussy in a tone of conviction; "because yougave him an apple last year. "

"Oh, yes; or William Tell, because I did not take away his, year beforelast. One would be quite as probable as the other, you wonderfullyclever Puss. " And Otto ran away barely in time to catch the groom, whowas going for the hay. 

Wiseli also ran about this time. Down the hill with a happy heart and amerry countenance, past Andrew's garden, she ran, jumping and leaping inher frolicsome mood; and then about she went, and jumped back again tothe garden, for she had espied the pinks all in bloom just within theenclosure, and must look at them again, they, were so beautiful. "Ishall soon overtake the boys, " she thought; "they stop at every cornerto play ball. "

But the pinks were most lovely to look upon; and they had such asweet perfume, too, that the child lingered, looking over the lowhedge for a long time. Suddenly Andrew came out of his house-door, and stood in front of Wiseli. He offered her his hand over the hedge, and said most kindly, --

"Will you take a pink, Wiseli?"

"Yes, indeed, " she replied; "and I have a message to give you frommy mother. "

"From your mother?" repeated Andrew the carpenter in great surprise, andlet the pink that he had just gathered fall from his hand. Wiseli ranround the hedge and picked it up from the ground; then she looked up atthe man who stood still and looked at her strangely, and said, --

"Yes; at the very end, when my mother could do nothing more, she drankup the nice syrup that you put on the kitchen-table for her, and itrefreshed her very much; and she charged me to tell you that she thankedyou for it very much indeed, and for all the many acts of kindness thatyou had shown her; and she said, 'He always felt kindly to me. '"

Now Wiseli perceived that big tears rolled from Andrew's eyes and fellover his cheeks. He tried to say something, but could not speak. Hepressed the child's hand, turned him about, and went into the house. 

Wiseli stood still and wondered. Nobody had wept for her mother. Evenshe had not dared to cry, except when nobody could see her; for hercousin said that he would not have any whining, and she was even moreafraid of making his wife angry. And now here was some one who weptbecause she had spoken of her mother to him. It seemed to the child asif Andrew were her very best friend upon the earth, and she felt herselfstrongly drawn towards him. But now she ran with her pink as fast aspossible towards the beech grove; and it was well that she did so, forshe saw the boys also drawing near the house, and it would never havedone for her to be later than they. 

Wiseli said her prayer with a light heart that night, and could notunderstand why she had been so depressed the night before, and why shehad felt no confidence in God's kindness, and could not even say herhymn. Now she felt sure that he had not forgotten her, and she wouldnever allow herself to think that again. Had she not received many kindthings from him? And as she fell asleep she saw before her the kind faceof Andrew the carpenter, with the tears in his eyes. 

On the following day--it was Wednesday--Otto was again surprised by thegood deed performed for him by his unknown friend; for he could notrefrain from going out with the others when school was first over, andmaking a few gambols here and there to refresh himself after the longconfinement. When, at last, he returned somewhat sadly to his work, itwas all done again, and the schoolroom perfectly tidy. Now his curiositybegan to be excited, and also gratitude to his invisible benefactorbegan to stir in his heart. He would certainly find out on Thursday whatit all meant. 

So, when the classes were dismissed, and they all left the house asusual, Otto stood for a while by his seat, thinking how he coulddiscover his helpful friend. But a knot of his schoolmates rushed in ashe stood there, grasped him by arms and shoulders, and dragged him out, crying, "Come along! Come on! We are playing 'Robbers, ' and you must beour leader. "

Otto defended himself for a moment. "This is my week, " he cried. 

"Oh, nonsense! put it off, " they said. "Only just for a quarter of anhour. Come along!"

And Otto went. To tell the truth, he relied secretly upon his unseenfriend, who would certainly shield him from punishment. He found itextremely agreeable to feel such a support under his feet; and thequarter slipped into the full hour, and Otto was lost. He went back tothe schoolhouse to fulfil his duty, and threw open the door with such aslam that the master rushed out of his room very quickly, and asked, --

"What do you want, Otto?"

"Only to look in again, to see if every thing is as it should be, "stammered the boy. 

"This is excellent, " said the teacher; "but it is not necessary for youto slam the door in that way. "

Otto went away in good spirits. On Friday he made up his mind not to dohis work of cleaning until he was satisfied about the mystery; andthen, --then there would only be Saturday morning left of his week. 

"Otto, " called out the teacher on Friday, as the clock struck four, "take this paper over to the pastor as quickly as you can. He will giveyou some papers to bring back. It will only take you a moment or two, and you will be here in time to brush out the room. "

The boy did not like to go very well, but there was no help for it; and, of course, he could be back in a twinkling. He reached the parsonage inhalf a dozen bounds. The pastor was busy, just then, with a visitor. Hiswife called Otto to her in the garden. She wanted to know how his mammafound herself; if his father were well, and Pussy, too; how Uncle Maxwas employed; and if they had good news from their relations in Germany. Then the pastor made his appearance, and Otto had to explain why it washis business to bring the papers, and what the teacher was doing atpresent. At last he got his papers, and was off like an arrow, pulledopen the door of the schoolroom, --to find every thing swept andgarnished, and no living being visible. 

"And I have not been obliged to stoop once, to clear away the tiresomebits, the whole week through, " thought Otto contentedly. "But who canhave done all this dirty work without being obliged to do it?" Now hedetermined, for once and all, to have that question settled. 

The school hours ended at eleven o'clock on Saturday. Otto waited untilall the children had gone, and the room was empty. Then he went outside, closed the door, and leaned with his back against it. There could no oneenter without his seeing who it was. He preferred to do this, ratherthan to go at once to work at the sweeping and cleaning. He waited andwaited: no one came. He heard the clock strike the half-hour. There wereplans at home for an excursion that afternoon. The family were to dineearly, to get away soon after dinner. He ought to begin with his work atonce, if he wanted to get home in good season. How he hated it!

He opened the door. Now Otto stared about him even more than he had donethe first time. The work was all done. It was certainly so, and nicerthan ever before. 

Things began to look rather queerly to Otto. He thought of ghoststories, and such things. Very much more softly than usual heslipped out, and closed the door behind him. Just at the same time, something slipped silently out of the teacher's kitchen, and theycame together face to face. It was Wiseli. She grew red and redder, just as if Otto had detected her in something mischievous. Now thetruth flashed into his mind. 

"So it is you who have done my work all the week, Wiseli?" he said. "Nobody else would have thought of doing it unless obliged to, I amsure of that. "

"You have no idea how glad I am to get the chance, " said Wiseli, inreply. 

"No, no; you must not say that, Wiseli. Nobody in the world can be gladto do such things, " said the boy decidedly. 

"But I mean it, --I really do, " repeated the girl. "I have thought, all day long through the week, with pleasure of the chance theafternoon would give me; and, while I was working, I was more thanever glad, because I thought, when Otto comes, he will find the workdone, and be pleased. "

"But what put it into your head to do it for me?"

"Oh! I knew how much you disliked it; and I have always wanted to giveyou something, as you once gave me your sled. Don't you remember? But Ihave nothing to give. "

"What you have done is worth a great deal more than lending a sled. Iwon't forget your kindness, Wiseli. " So saying, Otto offered her hishand, quite overcome for the moment. 

Wiseli's eyes shone with satisfaction as they seldom did nowadays. Presently Otto wanted to know how she had managed to get into the roomagain, for he had always waited until all the children were gone. 

"Oh! I never did go out, " said the girl. "I hid myself quicklybehind the closet-door. I thought you would go out for a fewmoments, as usual. "

"How did you get out without my seeing you afterwards?" Otto wanted toknow all about it. 

"Oh! while you were running around with the other boys, I got out easilyenough. I listened; but yesterday and to-day, as I was not certain whereyou were, I went through the teacher's kitchen, and asked his wife ifshe had any errand for me to do, --she often gives me a message to carrysomewhere, --and then I went out that way. Yesterday I was behind thekitchen-door when you ran into the schoolroom. "

Now Otto knew all the ghost story. He offered his hand again to Wiseli. "I thank you, " he said; and they both ran off with happy hearts, each aseparate way. 

CHAPTER VI. 

OLD AND NEW. 

Summer was over, and Autumn had followed in her footsteps. The eveningswere cool and misty. In the damp meadows the cows were eating the lastgrass of the season, and here and there little fires were visible wherethe sheep-boys cooked their potatoes and warmed their stiffened fingers. 

It was on such a misty evening that Otto, on leaving the schoolhouse, ran home for a moment to tell his mother that he was going to see whatkept Wiseli from school; for she had not been there since the autumnvacation, --certainly not for eight days. 

As he approached the beech grove, he saw Rudi sitting before the door, eating pear after pear from a heap that lay before him. 

"Where is Wiseli?" asked Otto. 

"Outside, " was the answer. 

"Where outside?"

"In the meadow. "

"In which meadow?"

"I don't know;" and Rudi went on munching his pears. 

"You won't die early because you know too much, " remarked Otto, andwent haphazard towards the big meadow that stretched away from thehouse to the wood. 

Presently he discovered three black spots under the pear-trees, and wenttowards them. 

He was right. There was Wiseli stooping over the pears which she wassorting, while a little farther off Cheppi sat astride of his rake; andbehind him Hannes lay on his back across the piled-up basket, and rockedit back and forth so violently, that it nearly fell over at eachmovement. Cheppi looked at him, laughing loudly. 

When Wiseli saw Otto coming towards her, her whole countenance glowedwith pleasure. 

"Good evening, Wiseli, " cried the lad from afar. "Why have you not beento school for so long?"

The girl stretched out her hand with a pleasant smile to her friend. 

"We have had so much to do that I was not able to go, " she said. "Justlook, what a lot of pears we have! I have to sort them from morning tillnight, there are so many. "

"Your shoes and stockings are all wet. It is not pleasant here. Are younot cold when you are so wet?"

"Yes, I do feel chilly sometimes; but, in general, I get very warm atthis work. "

At this moment Hannes gave his basket such a powerful twist that over itwent, and there lay Hannes, the basket, and the pears all in a heap onthe ground. 

"Oh, oh!" cried Wiseli in distress; "now they are all to be pickedup again. "

"And this one, too, " cried Cheppi, and laughed aloud as the pear that hehad in his hand struck Wiseli's cheek with such force that it broughtthe tears to her eyes, and she turned quite white with the pain. 

Scarcely had Otto seen this than he flew at Cheppi, threw him and hisrake to the ground, and seized him by the nape of the neck. 

"Stop, or I shall choke!" Cheppi was not laughing now. 

"I want to make you remember that you will also have me to deal with infuture, when you treat Wiseli in that way, " said Otto, scarlet withanger. "Have you got enough? Will you remember it now?"

"Yes, yes! Let me go!" said Cheppi, in a very humble tone. 

Otto released him. 

"Now you have felt, " he said, "how it will be whenever you hurt Wiseliagain. I will give you some more of this each time, even if you aresixty years old. Good-by, Wiseli. " And Otto went his way to carry hisanger to his mother. 

He unburdened himself to her as soon as he reached home. It was aterrible thing to the generous boy that Wiseli should be obliged tosubmit to such treatment. He was determined to go at once to thepastor to complain of him and of his whole family, and demand thatWiseli should be taken away from them at once. His mother listenedquietly to him, and let his indignation have time to cool off alittle; then she said, --

"I do not think, my dear boy, that there is the least use in your doingthis. They would not take the child from her cousin Gotti, I am sure;and it would only irritate him, should he hear that such a thing wasthought of. He himself does not feel unkindly towards Wiseli, and thereis really no sufficient ground for removing her from his roof. I knowvery well that the poor girl has a hard time of it there. I have notforgotten her, and am constantly hoping to find some way to help her. Itlies very heavily on my heart to know how much she has to suffer, youmay be sure of that, Otto. And if you can at any time manage to shelterher and intimidate that brutal fellow Cheppi, without being too roughyourself, I shall be very glad. "

Otto took what comfort he could in the knowledge that his mother wasconstantly looking out for some way to help Wiseli. 

He was always planning some way to help her himself, but never hit uponany thing that could be carried out. He saw very well that she could notfree herself; and the only idea that occurred to him as Christmas drewnear was to write on his list of wishes, in huge letters so big thatthey could easily be read from heaven above, "I wish that the Christchild would set Wiseli at liberty. "

Winter was come again, and the coast offered its feast of inexhaustiblepleasure to the children, who never wearied of its charm. The moon shonewith the most unusual brightness, it seemed to Otto, who, at last, hadthe cleverness to suggest that all the children should collect on thehillside at seven o'clock to take advantage of its beauty for an eveningcoasting-party. 

This suggestion was received with universal approbation, and thechildren separated at five o'clock when it began to be dark, to meetagain at seven for their favorite amusement. 

Otto's mother was not so enthusiastic over this great scheme as were thechildren, and could not agree with them when they expressed theirdelight. She said it was too cold for them to be out late into theevening; that there was great danger of accidents in the uncertainmoonlight; and particularly objected to allowing Pussy to exposeherself. But her objections only served to enhance the interest thechildren felt for the expedition, and Pussy pleaded for her consent asif her very life hung on being one of this coasting-party. Ottopromised, "upon his word of honor, " that he would not let any thinghappen to his sister, and would always keep near to her and protect her. At last their mother gave her consent; and, with great noise andrejoicing, the children went out into the beautiful, clear, coldmoonlight. 

Every thing went on without a drawback. The coast was in perfectcondition; and the mysteriousness of the darker places, upon which themoonlight did not fall, heightened the interest of the occasion. Therewere a vast number of children assembled, and all were in the besthumor. Otto let them all go down first; then he followed, and Pussy camelast of all, so that no one could run her down. Otto had arranged it inthis way, so that he could always glance backward to see that his littlesister went safely down the coast. 

As every thing went so smoothly and happily, somebody proposed that theyshould make a "train;" that is, bind all the sleds together, and so godown: it would be more delightful than ever by moonlight. No sooner saidthan done. Only Pussy's sled was not tied to her brother's, for hefeared lest the straining and shocks that often took place in this kindof coasting might prove dangerous to her. She followed, therefore, asusual; but Otto could not stop his sled if she was delayed, for he hadto go on with the "train. " Off they went, and the long chain reached thebottom safely and happily. 

Suddenly Otto heard a fearful cry, and he recognized at once his littlesister's voice. What had happened? He had no choice, however, but to godown to the very end with the merry party to which he was closelyfastened--down to the foot of the hill, no matter how great his fearmight be. Once at the bottom, however, he tore his sled loose, and ranup the hill as quickly as possible, with all the others at his heels;for they had all heard the screams, and wanted to see what they meant. Half-way up the ascent stood Pussy by her sled, and screamed and criedrivers of tears. Out of breath with his haste, Otto could hardly callout, "What is the matter? What has happened?"

"He did--he did--he did, " sobbed Pussy, and could get no further. 

"What did he do? Who was it? Where? Who?" stammered Otto. 

"That man there, that man; he did try to kill me, and said terriblewords, too. "

As much as this Otto understood, accompanied by screams and sobs. 

"Be quiet now, Pussy: do not go on like that. He did not kill you, afterall. Did he really strike you?" asked Otto, very gently and soothingly, for he was much alarmed. 

"No, " sobbed Pussy, beginning again; "but he was going to. He had astick, and he held it out like that, and said, 'Wait a moment;' and suchdreadful words he said, too. "

"Then he really did not do any thing to hurt you?" asked Otto, and beganto breathe more freely. 

"But he did, he did; and you were all off down the hill, and I was allalone. " And Pussy's tears and sobs continued to break forth. 

"Hush, hush!" said Otto, consolingly. "Now try to be quiet. I will notleave you again, and the man will not trouble you any more; and if youwill be quiet and good, I will give you the red candy cock that was onthe Christmas-tree. "

This made an impression upon Pussy. She dried her eyes, and did not makeanother sound; for that big red candy cock on the Christmas-tree waswhat the child had most wished for. In the division of the things it hadfallen to Otto's share; but his little sister had never forgotten herlonging for it. Now that every thing was quiet again, the children beganto climb the hill, and they tried to make out who the man could be whohad threatened to kill Pussy. 

"Oh, kill! Not so bad as that, " interposed Otto. "I saw a big man with astick, who was obliged to step into the snow to get out of our way whenwe went down the coast on the 'train. ' It made him angry to be obligedto go into the snow; and finding Pussy alone there, he scolded her alittle to relieve himself. "

This explanation satisfied everybody, it was so perfectly natural. Everybody wondered that they had not thought of it before, --indeed, thought they had, --and soon forgot all about it, and continued coasting. This, however, had an end, like all other pleasures; for eight o'clockhad struck long ago, and that was the hour at which they were to breakup and go home. On the way back, Otto charged Pussy not to speak of heradventure; otherwise their mother would never again let them go coastingin the moonlight. She should have the candy cock, but must promise notto say a word if she took it. 

All traces of her tears had long vanished, and nothing betrayed theirsecret to the family. 

Both children slept quietly in their beds soon after, and Pussy dreamedof the red candy cock, and shouted out with pleasure in her dreams. Presently there was a loud knocking at the house-door, that made ColonelRitter and his wife spring up from the table, where they werecomfortably talking about the children; and old Trine called out of thewindow, in an angry tone, --

"What sort of a way of knocking is that?"

"A terrible thing has happened, " said some one from below. "We want thecolonel to come down the hill. They have found Andrew the carpenterdead. " And off ran the messenger again. 

Mr. And Mrs. Ritter had heard enough, however, for they had heard thissad news from the window. The colonel threw his cloak about hisshoulders, and hastened down to the carpenter's. As he entered the room, he found that there were already a crowd of people assembled. Thejustice of the peace and the chief magistrate had been fetched, and anumber of curious and sympathetic people had come along with them. Andrew lay on the floor, in his blood, and gave no sign of life. Thecolonel went to his side. 

"Has nobody been for the doctor?" he asked. "We want a doctor at once. "

Nobody had thought of that, --there was no use in trying to do any thing, they said. 

"Run, somebody, as quickly as possible, " said the colonel. "Go, you, "--to a lad who stood near, --"tell the doctor that I send him wordto come here immediately. " He helped to raise Andrew from the ground, and to carry him into his bedroom, and to lay him on the bed. Then hewent back to the chattering group of neighbors, to find out how theaccident had taken place, --if anybody knew the precise circumstances. 

The miller's son stepped forward, and told his story. He was passingthe house about a half-hour ago, he said; and, seeing a light in thewindow, stopped to ask if his bits of furniture were finished. He foundthe door of the room open, and Andrew lying dead on the floor, coveredwith blood; and by his side stood Meadow-Joggi, and held out a piece ofgold between his fingers. Then the miller's son had called all theneighbors, and sent some one for the chief magistrate and everybodywhose business it was. 

Meadow-Joggi--who was so called because he lived down in themeadow-land--was a foolish fellow, who was supported by the neighbors, who gave him little jobs of work suitable to his feeble capacity, suchas carrying sand or stone where they were needed, or helping to sort thefruit, or gathering fagots in winter. 

No one ever had heard of his doing any mischief. The miller's son toldhim to stay where he was until the president came; and so Joggi stood inthe corner, held his fist tightly closed, and laughed to himself. Thedoctor soon arrived on the scene, and behind him came the president. Thecouncil took its place in the middle of the room, to consider the case. The doctor, however, went at once into the bedroom, and the colonelfollowed him. The doctor examined the motionless body carefully. 

"Here it is, " he cried presently. "Here, at the back of the head, iswhere Andrew was struck. There is a large wound here. "

"But he is not dead, doctor, is he?"

"No, no; he breathes feebly, but it is with difficulty. "

The doctor wanted all sorts of things, --water and sponges, and linenrags, and so on, --and the people ran this way and that, and searched andpulled things out from the closets and drawers, and produced a heap ofthings, but nothing that was useful for this occasion. 

"We want a woman here who has some intelligence, and knows what isneeded in sickness, " said the doctor at last, rather impatiently. Theyall called out this one or that one; but not one was able to come of allthose mentioned. 

"Let somebody go to the 'Heights, ' and tell my wife to send old Trinedown here, " said the colonel. And somebody ran off. 

"Your wife won't thank you, " said the doctor; "for I shall not be ableto let the nurse leave this patient for three days and nights. "

Trine came, laden with all needful things, much sooner than anybodydared hope for her; for she was all ready with her big basket packed, and her mistress stood by her side, expecting the order for her to godown to Andrew's; for they would not believe that Andrew was dead, andhad thought of every thing that could possibly be needed. She hadsponges and bandages, lint and oil, and warm flannels, packed in herbasket, and had only to run off when the messenger came. The doctor wasdelighted. 

"Everybody must go now. Good-night, colonel; and turn all those peopleout of the house, will you?" cried the doctor, and closed the doorwithout ceremony as soon as the colonel went out. 

The committee was still sitting, but the colonel explained that thehouse must be emptied; so they decided to imprison Joggi, and theninstitute investigations. Two men took Joggi between them, so that hecould not get away, and carried him off to the poor-house, and shut himup in a room. Joggi went with them very willingly, and laughed now andthen, and looked into his hand. 

The following morning Mrs. Ritter hastened down to Andrew's house ingreat anxiety. Trine came softly from the bedroom, and brought thewelcome news that Andrew had come to himself a little; that the doctorhad already made his visit, and found his patient in better conditionthan he expected; but he left especial orders that nobody should beallowed to enter the room. Andrew was not to be permitted to speak oneword, even if he wished to speak: only the doctor and the nurse mightcome into his presence. Trine said these words with great pride, for shewas a very good nurse, and well aware of the importance of thesituation. Mrs. Ritter fully appreciated all this, and went homerejoicing over the news. 

A week went by. Every morning Mrs. Ritter went down to the sick man'shouse to obtain an accurate statement of his condition herself, and tofind out if any thing were needed for his comfort, in order that all hiswants might be supplied at once. Every day Otto and Pussy sent the samemessage; namely, "When could they be permitted to see their sickfriend?" but the doctor was inexorable. There was no possibility ofTrine being allowed to go, either; and the doctor could not praise herenough for her intelligent care of the patient. After the week wasfairly over, however, the doctor sent word to the colonel that if hewould come to Andrew's at the same time he made his daily visit, theywould go in together; for now that Andrew was able to talk, the doctorwished to have the colonel hear what could be told about the terribleassault that had prostrated the good carpenter. 

Andrew was very glad to press the colonel's hand gratefully in hisown, --he knew very well where all the care and comfort came from withwhich he was surrounded. 

He collected his thoughts to the best of his ability to answer thequestions put to him. This was, however, all that he could tell them. Hehad taken out the yearly sum of money that he always carried up to thecolonel for investment, and was in the act of counting it over onceagain, to be sure that it was right. It was rather late in the evening, and he was seated with his back towards the door. While he was in themidst of counting, he heard some one enter the room; and before he hadtime to turn about, he received a tremendous blow upon his head. Afterthat, all was a blank. 

There had been a heap of money upon the table. Nothing was to be foundof it, however, but the piece that Joggi held in his hand when theyfound him. 

Even supposing that Joggi were the malefactor, where was the rest ofthat money? When Andrew learned that they had taken Joggi into custodyand shut him up, he was very uneasy. 

"Oh, you must let him go, poor Joggi!" he said. "He never would hurt thesmallest infant. _He_ never struck me. "

For all that, Andrew had no suspicion who it could have been. He had noenemy, he said, and knew of nobody who would wish him harm. 

"It may have been a stranger, " suggested the doctor, as he looked at thewindow. "If you sat here, with the bright light shining upon your pileof money while you counted it over on the table, anybody going by thehouse could have seen you, and taken a notion to rob you. "

"I suppose it must have been in that way, " said Andrew. "I neverthought of such a thing, however. Every thing has always stood open inthe house. "

"It is well that you have laid something by already, Andrew, " said thecolonel. "Do not fret over this: it is so lucky that you will soon bewell again. "

"Certainly, colonel; and I have every reason for thankfulness. The goodGod has given me far more than I have any use for. " And he shook handswith his friends, who agreed, in parting, that Andrew was much less tobe pitied than the man who tried to kill him. 

There was a sad story told about Joggi, which excited the sympathy ofthe schoolboys exceedingly. Otto brought it home with him and repeatedit several times, for it made a deep impression on his mind. It seemedthat when they brought Joggi, laughing all the way, into the almshousethat evening, he was told to give up his piece of gold to one of hisguards, --the son of the justice of the peace; but Joggi shut his fisttighter, and would not give it up at all. But the two men were strongerthan he, and at last forced his hand open; and, as they took the moneyaway from him, one of them said, "Only wait a little till the otherscome, then you will get what you deserve. You will see!" For he wasvexed at the scratches he had got in the struggle. 

These threats had frightened the poor half-witted fellow, who thought hewas going to be beheaded, having no idea of what his punishment mightbe. And he refused to eat, and cried and groaned incessantly. 

The officers of justice had been to see him twice, to assure him that, if he would only tell them what he had done, he should not bepunished. He repeated that he had not done any thing but look in atthe window; and when he saw Andrew on the floor, he went to him andshook him a little, and then he was dead. He saw something shining inthe corner, and picked it up; and then the miller's son came in, and alot of other people. 

When Joggi got thus far in his story, he began to cry and groan, andwould not be pacified. 

CHAPTER VII. 

ANDREW IS BETTER, AND SOMEBODY ELSE, ALSO. 

Mrs. Ritter went, as usual, to visit her friend, but no longer remainedcloseted with Trine, for she could now go freely into his room, talkwith him for a little while, and mark his daily improvement. Otto andPussy also paid several visits, armed with dainties for their favorite. So that Andrew said to the old Trine, with great feeling, "If I were aking, they could not show me more kindness. "

The doctor was well pleased with the rapidity of the cure, and said tothe colonel, whom he met on the threshold one day, --

"Every thing has worked wonderfully well. Your wife can have her Trineback again; and tell her she was worth her weight in gold. I only wishthere were some one to stay with Andrew for a little while; or who couldcome in, now and then, to help him. The poor fellow must have somethingto eat, and he has no wife nor child, --in fact, nobody. Do ask Mrs. Ritter if she cannot think of something that will help us. "

The colonel carried his message correctly, and his wife went the nextday to Andrew's, as usual; and, seating herself by his bedside, said, without circumlocution, "I have something to say to you, Andrew. Are youinclined to listen to me?"

"Certainly, certainly. Every thing you do is right, " said Andrew, supporting his head on his hand, and prepared to give her all hisattention. 

"I am going to take Trine away, now that you are so well, " beganMrs. Ritter. 

"Oh, dear lady, I beg you to believe me, I have wished to send her homefor a long time past. I know how much you must miss her. "

"I would not have allowed her to enter my house, if she had tried tocome back before, " replied Mrs. Ritter. "But now it is different: thedoctor has dismissed her. He says, however, --and I fully agree withhim, --that you need some one who can wait upon you, cook for you, orfetch your food from my house, and do a hundred little things: somebodyfor at least a few weeks. Now, Andrew, why cannot you have little Wiselito do this?"

The words were scarcely spoken, when Andrew almost sprang up in his bed. 

"No, no, Mrs. Ritter; certainly not!" he said, and became very red fromexcitement. "I could not dream of such a thing. Could I lie here in bed, and let that delicate little thing work for me out there in the kitchen?Oh! in Heaven's name, how could I think of her poor mother, where shelies buried? How she would look at me, if she knew of my doing such athing. No, no, Mrs. Ritter; I would rather not get well at all. "

Mrs. Ritter did not try to stop him; but, when he sunk back again uponhis pillow, she said quietly, --

"It is not any thing very shocking, however, that I have proposed, Andrew: think it over now. You know what kind of care Wiseli is getting, do you not? Do you suppose she has nothing to do there, or even lightwork suitable to her strength? Hard work she has, and hard words withit. Would you give her any thing like that? Do you know what the child'smother would do, if she were standing here by our side? She would thankyou, with tears in her eyes, if you would take her child into yourhouse, where she could be happy. I am sure of that. And you would soonsee how useful she would make herself. "

After these touching words, Andrew began to take another view of thematter. He wiped his eyes, and said softly, "How can I be sure that thechild would be willing? And how can I get her? Her cousin would not wishto part with her, probably. "

"That is all right. You need not trouble yourself about that, Andrew, "said his friend, cheerfully, as she rose to go. "I will attend to it allfor you. It is a thing about which I have thought long and anxiously. "

She took her leave; but, as she was passing out of the door, Andrewcalled out again, --

"Only in case Wiseli herself is perfectly willing: you will not forgetthat, please, Mrs. Ritter. "

She promised again that the child should come gladly, or not at all, andleft the house. 

She went down the hill at once to the beech grove, for she was impatientto take Wiseli where she could think of her in safety. She met thecousin Gotti just as he was himself entering his own house. He salutedher, without concealing his surprise at her visit. But she did not leavehim in doubt for a moment over the object that brought her there, andhow anxious she was that Wiseli should take charge of the wounded Andrewat once, as she was sure she could do, if they were willing. His wife, who was in the kitchen, came directly she heard their voices, and was atonce informed of Mrs. Ritter's proposition. But she answered that it wasnot possible, for the child was not able to be of use to anybody. Buther husband interposed. The truth should be told: Wiseli was able andwilling to work, and did so, well and intelligently. He did not wish tohave her go, for she was useful and obedient. He would not refuse, fortwo weeks or so, to let her nurse Andrew. He would not probably need herlonger than that, and then she must come back; for there was a greatdeal of work on hand against the spring. 

"Yes, yes, " said his wife. "I have no mind to begin it all over againteaching her, it has given me so much trouble already. If Andrew wantsanybody to help him, let him get somebody for himself. "

"Well, well; for two weeks, as I have promised, she shall go. It is ourduty to help a neighbor, if we can. "

"I thank you for your kindness, " said Mrs. Ritter, rising. "And Andrewwill himself show his gratitude. May I take Wiseli with me at once?"

Although his wife grumbled out that there could not be any such hurry, her husband said it was better the child should go at once. The soonershe went, the more quickly she would be back again; and repeated that itwas only for fourteen days in all. 

Wiseli was called, and told to get her clothes together, and tied in abundle. The child obeyed, not daring to ask for a reason. It was exactlya year since she had brought the little bundle into the house. Nothinghad been added to her scanty wardrobe in that time but a black frock. She wore that now, but it had been so long in use, that it hung abouther almost in rags; and Wiseli looked shyly at Mrs. Ritter as she stoodbefore her now, with her little bundle on her arm. The colonel's wifeunderstood the look, and answered it. "Come, my dear; we are not goingfar away. You can go as you are. "

Quickly taking leave, she waited only for Wiseli to give her cousinGotti her hand. He said, --

"Oh, you are soon coming back; this is not a separation. "

Off trotted Wiseli in silence, and much astonished, behind Mrs. Ritter, who walked rapidly across the snow-covered fields, as if she feared theyboth might be recalled; but as soon as they were out of sight of thebeech grove, she turned about, and stood still. "Wiseli, " she saidkindly, "do you know Andrew the carpenter?"

"Certainly, I do, " said the child; and glanced at her friend with such ahappy expression, that Mrs. Ritter was rather surprised. 

"He is ill, " she proceeded. "Would you like to take care of him, andwait upon him a little, for about two weeks?"

"Yes, indeed!" replied the child promptly; and her face, thatbecame suddenly rosy with pleasure, told Mrs. Ritter more than hershort answer. 

The good lady was pleased, but did not understand the child's feeling, for she knew nothing of her gratitude for Andrew's kindness to hermother. After they had gone on a while, Mrs. Ritter said, --

"You can tell Andrew the carpenter that you are very glad to go to takecare of him, or he will not believe it. Don't forget to tell him that. "

"No, no; I won't forget, " said Wiseli. "I was just thinking aboutit myself. "

They reached the house at last. Mrs. Ritter told Wiseli to go in alone, promising to come down in the morning to see how things went on; and, ifshe needed any thing for her patient, she could come up to the "Heights"to fetch it herself. 

Wiseli stole into the garden, and opened the house-door. She knew thatAndrew lay within in the bed-room behind the sitting-room. She enteredthe room softly. No one was there; but it was in good order, as oldTrine had left it when she went away. 

The child looked about to see that every thing was in the right place. Against the wall, in the back part of the room, stood a big woodenbedstead called a coach, and which was all arranged like a proper bed. The curtain was almost closed across it, but Wiseli could see how neatand clean it looked, and wondered who slept there usually. Presently sheknocked quietly at the bedroom door; and when Andrew called out, "Comein, " she entered, and shyly stood before him. Andrew raised himself inhis bed to see who was there. 

"Oh, oh!" he said, partly glad and partly startled. "Is that you, Wiseli? Come here; give me your hand. " The child obeyed. 

"You did not come to me against your will?"

"No, no, " replied the child; "surely not. " But Andrew was not satisfied. 

[Illustration: ANDREW RAISED HIMSELF IN HIS BED TO SEE WHO WASTHERE]

"I mean, Wiseli, " he continued, "perhaps you would have liked better notto come; but perhaps you wanted to do a kindness to the good colonel'swife, she is so kind. "

"No, no, " repeated the child again; "she did not say any thing to meabout it being for her. She only asked me if I was willing to go toyou, and there is nobody in all the world to whom I would go so gladlyas to you. "

These words must have quieted all Andrew's scruples, for he did not askany more questions, but let his head sink back on his pillow, and laygazing silently at Wiseli; and presently he turned his head aside, andwiped his eyes several times. 

"What shall I do now?" asked Wiseli, as Andrew did not move his head. Heturned at the sound of her voice, and said, very kindly, "I do not know, I am sure, Wiseli. You may do any thing that you like, if you will onlystay with me a little while. "

Wiseli scarcely knew what to think. Since the death of her mother, nobody had spoken to her in such kindly, loving tones. It seemed as ifher mother's voice and love were come into Andrew's words and tones. Shetook his hand in both hers, as she often took her mother's, and stood bythe bedside. She did not even speak, but felt that her mother's lovingpresence was about them. Andrew, too, had a silent, peaceful convictionthat Wiseli's mother was happy in their happiness. 

Presently Wiseli said, "I think I ought to cook something for you: it ispast twelve o'clock already. What shall I cook?"

"Whatever you like, " said Andrew. But Wiseli knew that she was therefor the purpose of making things comfortable for the sick man, andshe did not cease her questioning until she found out what he usuallyhad to eat, --a good nourishing soup, and a piece of the meat that wasin the closet; and then Andrew said she must cook something with milkfor herself. 

The child was perfectly at home in the kitchen. She had really learned agreat deal at her cousin Gotti's, even if she had received many crosswords at the same time. She had every thing ready in a short time; andAndrew begged her to push a little table to the bedside, and sit downand eat with him, so that he could enjoy the pleasure of her company. Neither Wiseli nor Andrew had eaten such a pleasant meal for a long, long time. After eating, Wiseli rose; but Andrew looked at her sadly, and said, "Where are you going now, Wiseli? Won't you stay with me herea little longer, or is it too dull for you?"

"No, indeed, not dull; but after dinner the things must be washed andput away in their places in good order, " said the child. 

"I know, " said Andrew; "but I thought that just for to-day--the firstday, you know--you might put them away as they are, and to-morrow washthem all together. "

"But if the colonel's wife should see them so, I should almost die ofshame;" and Wiseli looked very grave while she spoke. 

"Yes, yes; you are right, " said Andrew. "Do whatever you think best. "

So the child went to work, and cleaned and sorted and swept, so thatevery thing shone in the kitchen. Then she stood quietly, and looked onher work with satisfaction, saying softly, "Now Mrs. Ritter may comewhen she will. "

Going into the room next the kitchen, she cast an admiring glance at thebeautiful big bed on the "coach" behind the curtain; for Andrew thecarpenter had told her that she was to sleep there, and that the littlechest of drawers in the corner was also for her, and that she might putall her things there, if she liked. 

So she laid away all the clothes in her little bundle in good order; butit did not take long to do that, they were so few. At last she returnedto Andrew, and seated herself by his bedside. He had been lookingtowards the door very wistfully for a long time. She had scarcely seatedherself before she asked, "Have not you a stocking to be knitted, orsomething else for me to do?"

Wiseli had been well drilled, --first by her mother, and then by hercousin's wife, whose words she never forgot, they frightened her so; andwhen Andrew said, "Oh, you have worked enough for to-day; let us sitstill and talk over all sorts of things together now, " the childreplied, "I do not like to sit and do nothing, for it is not Sunday; butwe can talk while I knit, you know. "

Andrew was pleased at this sign of the little girl's industry, and heagain bade her do whatever she thought right and best. She might get astocking to knit, if she wanted to: he had not one for her, however. 

So Wiseli fetched her own, and took her seat by the bedside; and, truly, she could talk and knit at the same time perfectly well. 

Andrew chose the one subject for their conversation that was by far themost agreeable to Wiseli; namely, her mother. It was the first time shehad been able to talk about her mother to anybody since her death. Butnow she had a listener who could not hear enough, and so she told allthat she could remember of their happy life together. 

And day after day slipped by. For every little thing that Wiseli did, Andrew thanked her over and over, --not from politeness or mere form, butbecause every thing pleased the good man, and he wanted to express hispleasure. He became strong and well very rapidly under Wiseli's care, and soon was able to leave his bed. And the doctor was much surprised tosee how quickly his strength had returned, and how happy he lookedbesides. He sat at the window in the sunshine all day long, and watchedWiseli as she moved about, as if he could never get enough of her. Hiseyes followed her as she went here to a drawer, opened it and shut itagain; and noticed how every thing that passed through her hands wasdone in an orderly, regular manner, such as he had never seen before. And Wiseli was so happy, so happy, in this quiet little house, where shenever heard any but loving words, and moved constantly in an atmosphereof affection, that made it impossible for her to allow her thoughts todwell on the sad fact that the fourteen days would soon be past, andthen she must return to the beech grove. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SOMETHING VERY STRANGE HAPPENS. 

On the "Heights" there was a great deal of talk about Andrew and Wiseli. Mrs. Ritter went down every day, and always brought back good accounts. They all rejoiced together over this, and Otto and Pussy formed a planto have a great convalescence festival in Andrew the carpenter's roomwhile Wiseli was still with him. It should be a great surprise for themboth. But before that came another feast, --their father's birthday. Andthe children had invented all sorts of "celebrations" from early morningon, but the great moment was yet to come; namely, at dinner-time. Ottoand Pussy had taken their seats, full of excitement and expectancy. 

The father and mother made their appearance, and the merriment began. 

After one or two surprises came a large covered dish, --certainly thatwas a birthday dish. The cover was removed, and, behold, a beautifulcauliflower!

"This is a fine vegetable, " said the father; "I must admire it. But, totell the truth, " he went on, with an air of disappointment, "I expectedsomething different. I expected artichokes. They are to be found andbought as well as cauliflowers. You know, my dear Mary, there is no dishI care for so much as artichokes. "

Suddenly Pussy called out, --

"That is it! that is it! That is exactly what he called to me twice. And he raised his stick in the air, and did so, "--and Pussy raised herarm in the air in great excitement. But suddenly she was quiet, and puther arm under the table, and turned crimson; and Otto, who sat on theother side of the table, looked at her with flashing eyes and veryangry looks. 

"What is this?" asked the colonel. "A strange way to celebrate mybirthday. My daughter cries out, on one side, as if some one were goingto kill her; and, on the other, my son is giving me such kicks on theshin that I shall soon be covered with black-and-blue spots. I shouldlike to know where you learned this agreeable amusement, Otto?"

Now it was Otto's turn to become fiery red. His intention had been togive Pussy certain decided warnings to keep quiet, but his boot hadencountered his father's leg instead, and not gently either. When hediscovered his mistake, he did not dare to raise his eyes. 

"Now, Pussy, " said the colonel, "tell me the end of your robber story. You said the terrible man called out 'artichokes' to you, and raised hisstick in the air; and then"--

"Then--then, " stammered Pussy, who perceived that she had betrayed everything, and would have to give the sugar cock back to Otto again. "Thenhe did not strike me, or kill me. "

"Well, that was nice of him, " said her father, laughing. "Andwhat else?"

"Nothing else, " said Pussy, whimpering. 

"Well, then, the story had a good ending. The stick remained in the air, and Pussy came back to the house like an 'artichoke. ' Now we will drinkthe health of the 'artichokes' and of Andrew the carpenter together. "

The father raised his glass, and his companions did the same. When theyleft the table, they were all rather sad; all except the father, whotook his newspaper, and lighted his cigar, as usual. Otto stayed inanother room in the corner, and thought how, when the children were allallowed to go again to coast by moonlight, he would be obliged to remainat home; for his mother would not now let him go, he was sure. Pussycrept into her bedroom, nestled down in a corner by the bed upon afootstool, took the red candy cock upon her lap, and felt very sadly atthe thought that she held it for the last time. 

At the window her mother stood sadly thinking. She soon became agitated, however, and moved uneasily about the room, and presently began to seekfor her little daughter in every corner. She found her at last, in herhiding-place behind the bed, sunk in deep dejection. 

"Pussy, " said her mother, "I want you to tell me the story about the manwho threatened you. When was it, and where, and what words did he use?"

Pussy told all that she knew, but did not give much more informationthan she had conveyed at the table. The man had called out the same wordthat her father had used at table, --that she was sure of. Her motherturned away, went directly to the room where her husband was smoking, and said, in a very excited tone, "I must tell you, for I am more andmore sure of it. "

The colonel put down his newspaper and looked at his wife, muchsurprised. 

"That scene at table has made me think of something; and the more Ithink, the surer I am about it. "

"Do sit down, and tell me what you mean, " said the colonel, who nowbecame very curious. His wife did as he desired, and went on. 

"You noticed Pussy's excitement. She must have been very muchfrightened by the man of whom she spoke. She was not joking. Thereforeit is clear to my mind that the word was not 'artichoke, ' but'aristocrat, ' that he used. Now you know who used to call us that, --mybrother and I. Pussy has just told me that this took place on thatevening when they all went coasting by moonlight; and that was thenight when Andrew was assaulted and robbed. That rascally fellow Jorghas not been seen for years in this vicinity; and the very first timethat there is any trace of him, we hear of this act of brutalitytowards his brother, against whom no one but he has any grudge. Do notyou think there is something strange in this?"

"Yes; certainly there may be something in it, " said the colonel. "I mustlook it up at once. "

He arose, called his servant, and presently rode off at a sharp trottowards the town. 

And for several days he continued to go there, to hear if theinvestigation had produced any result. On the fourth day he came hometowards evening, and sent word to Mrs. Ritter, who was seated by Pussy'sbed, that he had something important to tell her. It was that the policehad been seeking for Jorg, and had found him without much delay; for hehad not taken precautions to conceal himself, being sure that no one hadseen him on the evening when he visited his native village. He had, therefore, merely gone to the city, and was spending his time in thetaverns. When they took him into custody, and accused him, he deniedevery thing; but when he heard that Colonel Ritter had accusations tomake against him, he was intimidated, thinking that the colonel musthave seen him, or he would never have suspected him, as he had justreturned from the Neapolitan army service. It never occurred to him thatone single word that he had thrown to a little child had betrayed him. 

When he heard the truth, he began to swear terribly, and declared he hadalways known that those aristocrats would bring him into trouble. Onfurther examination, he said he had gone to his brother's house with theintention of asking him for a loan of money; but when he looked throughthe brilliantly lighted window and saw the big pile of money lying onthe table, it occurred to him that he would strike Andrew down and robhim. He had not meant to kill him, --only render him insensible. Nearlyall the money was found at his lodgings, and taken. Jorg was lodged inthe prison. 

When these facts were made known in the village, everybody was very muchinterested and excited, for nothing of the kind had happened before inthat small place. In the school, particularly, every thing wastopsy-turvy, for the children were as much excited as their elders. Ottoscarcely stopped to take breath all day long, for he ran from one placeto another, hoping to hear the latest news at each. He came to thehouse, on the third evening, in such a state, that his mother told himthat he must sit perfectly quiet and silent for a little while before hecommunicated the piece of news with which he was bursting. 

At last he was calm enough to tell them that they wanted to set Joggifree, for he had been shut up all this time; but the poor fellow was soconvinced that they only wanted to take him out to cut off his head, that he fought against being removed with all his might. So they decidedto take him out by force, and two men dragged him into the open air. Hefought and screamed so violently, that a crowd soon assembled; and thepoor, foolish fellow, becoming more and more alarmed, had darted awaylike an arrow to the nearest barn, where he took refuge from hisimaginary danger in a stall, cowering down in a heap in one corner, andwould not let anybody approach him. His countenance showed his terriblefear. He had been there all day and night; and now the peasant to whomthe barn belonged said if he did not move soon, he would use thepitchfork to him. 

"It is a sad, sad story, my children, " said their mother, when Otto hadfinished. "Poor Joggi! how terribly he must suffer from his fear, thatnobody can relieve him of, because he cannot understand what is said;and yet he is perfectly innocent of any evil deed or wish. Oh, if youhad only told me what had happened that evening on the coast! Yourkeeping that a secret has had very, very sad consequences. Cannot we dosomething to comfort and reassure him again?"

Pussy was almost crying. "I will give him my red candy cock, " shesaid, tearfully. 

Otto was much disturbed, but he said, scornfully, --

"Yes; a nice present for a grown up man, --a sugar cock! You had betterkeep it for yourself. "

After a moment he asked his mother, however, to allow Pussy to carrysome food to Joggi in the barn: he had not eaten any thing fornearly two days. 

His mother was more than willing, and had a basket filled at once withbread and sausage and cheese for the children, and sent them off withoutdelay. Poor Joggi! there he was cowering in the stall, white as a sheet, and dared not stir. The children gradually drew near, and presently Ottoheld out his basket and showed the food, hoping to tempt Joggi. 

"Come out, Joggi. See, all this is for you to eat. "

There was no sign of movement. 

"Do come out, or the peasant will stick his pitchfork into you. "

The poor fellow gave a piteous moan, but still did not stir. 

Now Pussy went quite close to him, put her mouth to his ear, and said, gently, "Do not be frightened, Joggi; they won't cut off your head. Mypapa will help you, and will not let anybody harm you. And see, Joggi;here is a candy cock, all red. Santa Claus sent you this on theChristmas-tree. " And the little girl took the cock very carefully fromher pocket, and held it out to Joggi. 

This little gift had a wonderful effect. Joggi looked at his friendwithout fear, then at the candy cock, and presently began to laugh. Itwas many days since he had laughed. He rose slowly from his corner, andfollowed Otto out of the barn behind Pussy. When they got well out ofthe yard, Otto said, --

"You can take this basket, Joggi; we are going up there to our house. Your way is down yonder. "

But Joggi shook his head, and followed close to Pussy's heels. They allwent up the hill. Their mother watched the little procession coming, andher heart began to feel lighter; and she also noticed how the poor, foolish Joggi held his sugar cock in his hand, and laughed at it withchildish satisfaction. 

They all three entered the house and went into the sitting-room, wherePussy fetched a chair, and, taking the basket in her hand, beckonedJoggi to come to her; and when he was seated at the table, she spreadout the bread and cheese and sausage before him, saying, very gently, "Now do eat, --eat up every bit, Joggi, and be happy again. "

The poor fellow obeyed, and left no crumbs. He never relinquished hishold of the red cock, however. He held it in his left hand, and noddedand smiled at it from time to time. For bread and cheese and sausage hehad often received, but a red candy cock never before. 

At last he went down the hill to his cottage. With very happy looks Mrs. Ritter and Otto and Pussy followed his retreating form, and noticed thathe changed the red cock from one hand to another, and had evidentlyforgotten his fears. Mrs. Ritter had not visited Andrew during threedays. There was so much going on all the time, that she had notperceived how the time passed; and then she no longer felt the leastanxiety about him. He was well cared for, --of that she was certain, --andwas on the best road towards health and strength. 

As soon as Colonel Ritter could go, he took the news of the arrest andimprisonment of Andrew's brother to the good carpenter, who listened tothe story quietly, and said, after a while, --

"It was his will. It would have been far better for him to have asked mefor a little money. I should have given it to him, but his way was evera blow rather than a kind word. "

Mrs. Ritter went down the mountain one cold, frosty morning, and wentsmiling to herself all the way; for she had pleasant plans and projectsin her heart. Just as she opened the door of Andrew's cottage, Wiselicame out of the sitting-room. Her eyes were swollen and red. She hadbeen crying. She gave Mrs. Ritter her hand very shyly, and ran into thekitchen, and shut the door. Mrs. Ritter had never seen Wiseli look inthis way. What could have happened? She went into the sitting-room. There sat Andrew by the window. He, too, looked as if a bad piece ofnews had been brought to him. 

"What has happened?" asked Mrs. Ritter; and forgot to say"good-morning, " in her anxiety. 

"Oh, oh!" sighed Andrew. "I wish that the child had never enteredmy house. "

"Wiseli!" exclaimed his visitor. "Is it possible that Wiseli can havedispleased you in any way?"

"Not that, by any means, good lady, " Andrew hastened to answer. "No; shehas made my home a paradise for me, and now she is going away; and itwill seem so empty and lonely without her, I cannot bear it. You nevercould think, Mrs. Ritter, how I love that child. I cannot bear it, ifthey take her away. And the cousin Gotti has sent his boy twice to saythat she is wanted at his house; and, since then, Wiseli has been soquiet, and cries in secret. It breaks my heart; for I see that she doesnot want to go there, though she says nothing, and to-morrow is the lastday. I do not exaggerate, Mrs. Ritter; but I assure you I would preferto give all that I have earned and saved for thirty years to her cousinGotti, than have him take the child away. "

"I would not think of doing that. In your place, Andrew, I would go towork another way, " said Mrs. Ritter, when Andrew had finished hisexcited talk. 

He questioned her with his eyes in silence. 

"I mean in this way. All your worldly goods you will leave to some onewho is very dear to you. You will take Wiseli as your adopted child;will be a father to her; she shall henceforth live in your house as yourown daughter. You would like that, Andrew, would you not?"

He had listened with all his might, and his eyes grew bigger and bigger. Presently he grasped Mrs. Ritter's hand, and pressed it almostpainfully. He leaned forward. 

"Can that be done? Can I obtain the right to say that Wiseli is reallymy own child, --all my own, so that nobody will be able to take her fromme again?"

"You can do all that, Andrew. And, once Wiseli is recognized as yourchild, no one will have the least right to her. You will be her father. And, to tell the truth, Andrew, I hoped that you might wish to do this;and therefore have kept my husband at home, in case you want to go intothe city to take the necessary steps towards the adoption. You know youcannot walk, Andrew. "

Andrew fairly lost his head over all this. He ran this way and that, looking for his Sunday coat; and kept asking all the time, "Can it be true? Is it possible? To-day, did you say? May I go to-day?"

"At once, " she said; and gave her hand to Andrew as she left him, totell the colonel that all was ready for the visit to the town. "It willbe better not to tell Wiseli until the evening, when every thing issettled, and you are quietly together here, " she said, as she steppedout of the door. "Do not you agree with me?"

"Yes, certainly, " was the answer. "I could not tell her now. "

While Andrew was waiting until Colonel Ritter came for him to drive tothe town, he sat trembling in every limb, and thought he could scarcelystand up, he was so happy and so excited. In about half an hour Wiselisaw, to her great surprise, the colonel's wagon drive up, stop atAndrew's door, the servant get down, come to the steps, take Andrewunder the arm, and help him to get into the carriage. The child lookedat it, as it passed away from the house down the road, and could notunderstand it at all; for the carpenter had not said any thing toher, --not even that he was going to drive. He had remained seated wherehe was, after Mrs. Ritter's departure, until the colonel's servant camefor him; and the child had kept herself hidden all the time. 

After his departure, she went into the sitting-room, and looked out ofthe window where Andrew always sat, and kept saying to herself, "To-dayis the last day. To-morrow I must go to cousin Gotti. "

Towards noon the child went into the kitchen, put every thing in order, and arranged Andrew's dinner; but he did not come, and she did not liketo remove the things until he did. So she went back into thesitting-room; but the sad thought of the coming separation made heralmost ill, and she said to herself, over and over, "To-morrow I must goto cousin Gotti;" and did not see, in her sadness, that the sunset wasvery beautiful, and betokened a still more beautiful morrow. 

The child sprang to her feet when presently she heard the dooropened. Andrew the carpenter stood before her with happy eyes, andwith a look that Wiseli had never seen on his face. He sunk into achair. He was overcome, but not with fatigue. At last he cried out, in a triumphant tone, --

"It is true, Wiseli! It is all really true! All the gentlemen said'Yes, '--every one. You belong to me. I am your father. Call me'father, ' Wiseli. "

Wiseli became white as a sheet. She stood staring at Andrew, but did notspeak nor move. 

"Oh! of course, of course, " said the carpenter. "You can't understandme, I tell you all so confusedly. Now I will begin at the beginning. I have just written in the record book in the town, and you are mychild now, and I am your father; and you will always stay here withme, and not go back to your cousin Gotti again. This is yourhome, --here with me. "

Wiseli understood now. She sprang into Andrew's arms, clung round hisneck, and cried, "Father, father!" They neither could speak a word afterthis for a long time, --too many things were crowding upon them. After alittle, Wiseli felt a sudden light that seemed to break in upon herthoughts; and she exclaimed, looking up at Andrew, --

"O father! I know how it has all happened, and who has helped us. "

"Who may it be, Wiseli?" asked Andrew. 

"My mother. "

"Your mother, child, --who do you mean? Your mother?"

And Wiseli related her dream about the beautiful garden with the redcarnations, and a rose-bush on the other side, where the sun shone; andtold him how her mother had taken her by the hand and showed her thegarden, and said that her way led through that. And Wiseli was sure thather mother had not ceased to pray God to let her child's way be throughthat garden, --which was Andrew's garden, and the happiest place in theworld for Wiseli. 

"Do not you believe it too, father, now that you know that in my dreammy mother showed me my road to your garden?"

Andrew could not answer. Big tears rolled down his face, but he smiledall the time that he wept. When, at last, he opened his mouth to speak, there came such a terrible knocking at the door, that nothing else couldbe heard. Open flew the door, and Otto was in the middle of the roomwith one leap; then he jumped over a chair, and shouted, "Hurrah! wehave won, and Wiseli is delivered. " Pussy came in behind him, ran atonce to her friend, and said, pointing towards the door, --

"Now, Andrew, you will see what is coming for you, to celebrate yourrecovery. "

Scarcely had she spoken, than the baker's boy came struggling throughthe doorway with a big tray upon his head that could scarcely comethrough. A good push from behind, however, helped him along, and he putthe tray down on the table. Otto and Pussy had ordered the biggest cake, to be made at the baker's, that was ever known; and as it would not havebeen very large if it were round, they ordered it square, and it quitefilled the oven when it was baked. Old Trine stood behind the baker'sboy, and her big basket was at her feet. She had brought, among otherdelicacies, a bottle of good wine; for Mrs. Ritter declared that Andrewhad, in all probability, not eaten a morsel since breakfast, and Wiseliwas probably fasting also; and the child remembered the fact, now thatshe saw the feast that Trine spread upon the table. They all took theirplaces, and a merry company they were. To be sure, the grand cake had tobe cut in halves, and part put away, for otherwise there was not room onthe table for the rest of the supper; but after that they were all moremerry than ever feasters were before. 

But the time went by, and Trine stood there waiting to take the childrenhome, --it was late. Andrew said, at leave-taking, --

"To-day you have prepared a feast for me, and I thank you with all myheart; but I invite you to come here again on Sunday, and I will giveyou a feast, --the feast to celebrate my daughter's adoption. "

And so they parted, all rejoicing over the fact of Wiseli being sohappily at home with Andrew, and the children promising to come to theSunday celebration. At the door Wiseli gave Otto her hand again, andsaid, "I thank you a thousand times for all your kindness to me, Otto. Cheppi never was so rude to me again after you frightened him that day. He was afraid to throw things at me. I owe it to your kindness. "

"And I owe you something, Wiseli, " replied Otto. "I have never had tosweep out the schoolhouse since the time you know of. "

"And I thank you, too, Wiseli, " said Pussy; for she would not be behindthe others in her thanks. 

Now every thing was quiet in the little room, and the moonlight streamedin through the window where Andrew took his seat, while Wiseli put allthe supper dishes away, and made every thing neat again; then she cameto him, and stood before him with folded hands. 

"Father, " she said, "let me say my mother's hymn aloud to you. Ihave always said it softly to myself; but I shall never forget itnow, I am sure. "

Andrew was glad to listen; and the child, raising her eyes to the stars, said, with the very deepest feeling thrilling through her heart, --

 "To God you must confide Your sorrow and your pain; He will true care provide, And show you heaven again. 

 "For clouds and air and wind He points the path and way; Your road He'll also find, Nor let your footsteps stray. "

From this day forward the happiest cottage in the whole village was thatof Andrew the carpenter, with its sunny garden. Wherever Wiseli showedherself, she received the very kindest notice from all the neighbors, much to the child's surprise. Formerly no one had noticed herparticularly, but now even her cousin Gotti and his wife never passedthe cottage without coming in to take her by the hand, and invite her tovisit them. 

This gave the child keen satisfaction, for she had always fearedsecretly her cousin's feelings about her adoption; so this kindness onhis part freed her from all anxiety, and she could go her waypeacefully. But these thoughts often rose within her, and she repeatedto herself, --

"Otto and his family have always shown me kindness when I was alonein the wide world and friendless: these others are only kind to mesince I am happy and have a father. I know well enough who are reallymy friends. "

THE END.