CHAPTER VII.
Ludwig's servant entered and inquired whether he might accompany "madame" (meaning Johanna) to church.
"You may go," replied Ludwig to the servant, who saluted in curt military style and left the room.
Richard inquired where the man was from, for his pronunciation would prove him a North German.
Ludwig replied, "Yes, he is a specimen of North German discipline and reliability.
"Although he was willing to work at anything, he was almost perishing with want when I made his acquaintance. I took him into my service, and every order I gave was executed by him as implicitly as if he were obeying an imperative law of nature.
"One evening I had an appointment to meet several persons at the town hall; I took him with me, and said to him, 'Willem, wait here for me.'
"I entered and had a lengthy interview--forgot Willem, and left through another door.
"The next morning I came back to the town hall, and there stood Willem.
"'What are you doing there?' I asked.
"'Ik warte.'[5] said he.
"He had waited there all night, and would probably have waited the whole of that day, if I had not by chance come there.
"After that, we always called him 'Ik-warte.'"
We were so happy together. It was one of those moments that one wishes might be prolonged forever, and in which one dreads to move from his seat for fear of breaking the spell. Our happiness was, however, not to be of long duration.
The locksmith's widow came, bringing her children with her. They brought a pot of fine honey, and fresh garlands of daisies and violets.
Ludwig advised the children--they were two girls and a boy--above all things not to consider themselves Americans; for if Germans would work as they do in America, they could do just as well as the Americans.
The widow said that she would like to have a talk with Ludwig alone, for she looked upon him as the guardian of her children. Ludwig promised to pay her a visit at an early day.
She was about leaving when new guests arrived.
Funk called, but he had discreetly sent in advance his parade horse, Schweitzer-Schmalz, who was attired in the national costume she was so fond of, with large, round, silver buttons. He walked along with an air of great importance, with his bull neck, his face shining with good living, and his thick eyelids, from beneath which his little eyes cast their contemptuous glances. He was followed by the village lawyer, a man of pleasing appearance, and, indeed, a noble being who had but one fixed idea, and that was that the world was to be protected against all corporalism.
Funk followed after these two fit companions of his. He had not been in my house for four years.
Schweitzer-Schmalz was the first to speak, and uttered a short, hearty, "Welcome, Ludwig!"
For the first time, he avoided his haughty manner of treating every one as "little fellow." The tall, commanding appearance of Ludwig awed him.
After that, the lawyer delivered a somewhat longer and quite fervent speech, and I was obliged to beg Richard to keep quiet, for he whispered to me, "All this so early in the morning, and without an audience of empty bottles!"
Funk extended his hand in silence and nodded significantly, as if he meant to say, "You know already what I mean."
Martella brought wine and glasses. It hurt me to feel that she was in the presence of Funk, who had, years ago, so maliciously dragged her name before the political meeting.
I had told Ludwig nothing of my rupture with Funk.
Funk inquired about several who had been their companions in revolution and who had emigrated. Of many, Ludwig could give no information, while of some he could give us good report, and of many others, sad news.
Ludwig disapproved of the emigration fever.
The turn that the conversation had taken did not seem to Funk's taste; but Ludwig was able to direct it as he desired, and, addressing himself more especially to the lawyer, he spoke of the intimate relations that existed between our country--South Germany in particular--and America.
Owing to their innate energy, and in spite of want, misery and ignorance of the language, the proportion who succeed in attaining wealth, position, and honors is much larger with the first generation of emigrants than with their children who are born in America.
Statistics had proven that, in spite of want and temptation, the first generation offered far fewer objects for the jails than did the second. On the other hand, the former were more largely represented in the insane asylums.
Funk was evidently displeased, and emptied his glass at one draught. Although he laughed, he seemed ill at ease when Schweitzer-Schmalz said, "There you have it. I have always told you little folk may emigrate; but the right sort of a man," he said, stroking his fat belly at the same time, "knows where he is best off, and keeps at home."
"I believe that you are also one of the deceived ones," said Ludwig, supplementing his remarks. "You cannot know, or, at all events, only know it superficially, that the projectors of new railroads attempt to help the price of their shares by encouraging emigration into the territory traversed by their road, and that many who get gratuities by them do not even know this."
Funk suggested that a festive gathering of people from the village and surrounding country should take place on any Sunday that Ludwig might fix upon. The meeting was to be in honor of his arrival. At this time he was doubly welcome, for he would assist in dispelling the Prussian pestilence.
"I see you are still fond of set phrases," replied Ludwig, and added: "How strange it is since the congress of Vienna, all friends of the Fatherland have been clamoring for a man who, with firm hand and shrewd judgment, would, regardless of consequences, force Germany into unity; and now that he is with us, they hurl stones at him. And do you know, Professor, what it is that particularly pleases me in Bismarck?" he exclaimed roguishly.
"How should I know?"
"He has fortunately one of those rare names that can be pronounced the same in all languages."
"We had thought we should meet an old republican--an enemy of tyrants!" exclaimed Funk.
"I have not changed in that respect," answered Ludwig. "The question whether a republic or a monarchy should be preferred, is about the same as if one were to ask which is better, meat or farinaceous food? All depends upon the manner in which the food is prepared, and upon the digestive powers of the stomach. But don't let us dispute now. I trust we shall have a chance yet to discuss these matters more calmly."
"What day have you determined on?" inquired Funk.
Ludwig said that he desired no such compliment. He preferred to renew his acquaintance with the people and their circumstances in a quiet, unobtrusive manner.
The church bells began tolling, and Funk said: "Perhaps you wish to go to church? You have probably grown religious, too?"
"Thanks for catechizing me," said Ludwig.
"Ah, I forgot to address you as 'Colonel,'" said Funk.
"That makes no difference, although my rank is that of colonel. I was promoted at the front, and it is the greatest pride of my life that I did my duty in the war for wiping out slavery."
I do not know whether it was shrewdness or arrogance towards his companion or ourselves, that induced Schweitzer-Schmalz to assume his wonderfully self-complacent air.
"Yes, Colonel," said he, "another American war would not be so unpleasant to us after all?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, that we gained one great advantage from it, or, as my student says, 'pitch.'"
"I do not understand you."
"Yes," began Schweitzer-Schmalz, after emptying his glass, "your father doesn't like rosin; but, for the little farmers, the pine-trees which give rosin are just like so many milchcows. I have a piece of woodland that I milked hard, because, so long as the war lasted, no rosin came from America, and the price of ours went up very much."
Richard could not refrain from remarking on the wonderful connection that made changes in one country affect the most distant portions of the globe. And thus the visit, which had promised to be so disagreeable, ended quite pleasantly.
Funk and his companions left, and when Richard was about to speak of Funk's emptiness, Ludwig replied:
"You are deceived in him. He is full of what we, in America, call 'steam.' He has a restless spirit of enterprise."
My daughter-in-law and Johanna went to church together, and Ikwarte followed after them.
The watchman came, and Ludwig gave him a considerable present.
After that, Ludwig requested me to accompany him to the statue gallery, where he said: "Father, I have brought nothing for you; but I know that your greatest pleasure is to do acts of beneficence; let me, therefore, place this sum of money in your hands, so that you may distribute it according to your best judgment. If I can do good through you, I shall be doing good to myself; and, as mother is no longer living, I must ask you to attend to this for me."
I doubt whether in yonder church there was one heart more piously inclined than ours were on that day.
But it seems that nothing in life can remain perfectly pure and undisturbed.
We were just about sitting down to dinner, when a wretched-looking creature, called Wacker, entered. He lived in the neighboring valley, and had once been a comrade of Ludwig's at the Polytechnic school. He had left school at an early day, in order to take charge of a beer brewery, and had become a drunkard. His place had been sold out, and he now wandered about from one little tavern to another, where he would spend the day between maudlin curses and drunken slumbers. When he entered the house, it was only noon, and he was already intoxicated.
"Brother," he exclaimed, "give me one of your California lumps of gold; or, if that is asking too much, see that I have free tap for one year at the 'Lamb.' Here is my hand. If the war begins again, I will help. Give me hand-money--throat-money--throat-money!"
He offered his hand to Ludwig, who declined it. I saw his indignation; his glance fell on Ludwig's wife and on Wolfgang, for the latter seemed surprised that the degraded creature should address his father in such familiar terms. Wacker begged for a gift, but Ludwig refused it with the words, "Get some employment, and then I will help you, but not before."
Wacker replied in vile, abusive terms.
Ludwig instantly collared him and led him from the room.
We could hear him cursing, after he got out into the road; and then he staggered down the hillside.
There was something cold and hard as iron in Ludwig's manner towards all except his nearest kindred, to whom he was kind and gentle.
This interruption was a shrill dissonance in our Sunday's pleasure. We soon forgot it, however.