Seed-time and Harvest: A Novel

by Fritz Reuter

CHAPTER XIV.

The evening before St. John's day, 1843, David Däsel's oldest boy was sitting with Johann Degel's youngest girl, in the pleasure-garden at Pumpelhagen, enjoying the moonlight, and Fika Degel said to Krischan Däsel, "Say, did you see her, that time, when you took the horses to the young Herr?"

"To be sure I saw her; he took me into the parlor, and shewed her to me, and said, 'See, this is your gracious lady!' and she filled me a glass, that I should drink there."

"What does she look like?"

"Well," said Krischan, "it is hard to describe her; let me see, she is about your size, and has such light hair as yours, and just such a pink and white face, and she has grey eyes also, as you have, and just such a little, old, sweet, pouting mouth," and with that, he pressed a hearty kiss on the red lips.

"Gracious, Krischan!" cried Fika, freeing herself from his arm, "then does she look just like me?"

"Child, have you no more sense than that?" said Krischan. "No, don't flatter yourself to that extent! You see, that sort of people have always a something about them, quite different from our sort. The gracious lady might sit here with me, till she were frozen to death in midsummer, it would never come into my head to give her a kiss."

"So?" said Fika Degel, standing up, and tossing her pretty head, "then you think I am good enough for you?"

"Fika," said Krischan, throwing his arm round her again, though she made a show of resistance, "that sort are too slender-waisted, and have too weak bones for us, if I should hug her as I do you, I should always be afraid of dislocating her spine, or knocking her down. No," said he, stroking her soft hair, "like must mate with like." And as they separated, Fika was quite gracious again towards her Krischan, and looked as friendly as if she were his gracious lady.

"Well, I shall see you to-morrow," said she, "I am going to help the girls tie wreaths, in the morning."

And so she did. Yes, they were tying wreaths in Pumpelhagen, and a great gate of honor was constructed, and while Habermann was overseeing the preparations, and Marie Möller was running hither and thither, with greens and flowers, and Fritz Triddelsitz, as a volunteer of the first class, in his green hunting-jacket, and white leather breeches, and yellow top-boots, and a blood-red neck-handkerchief, strutted about among the farm-boys and day-laborers, there arrived upon the scene Uncle Bräsig also, neat as wax, in light-blue, tight summer trousers, and a brown dress-coat, of unknown antiquity, which covered his back very well, down to the calves, but in front he looked as if the lightning had struck him, and torn off his brown bark, leaving exposed a long strip of yellow wood, for he wore under it a fine, yellow piqué vest. On his head he had, of course, a silk hat, three-quarters of an ell high.

"Good morning, Karl! How are you getting on? Ha, ha! There stands already the whole concern. Fine, Karl! The arch should be a little higher, though, and right and left you should have a couple of towers; I have seen them so in old Friedrich Franz's time, at Gustrow, when he came home in triumph. But where is your flag?"

"Flag?" said Habermann, "we have none."

"Karl, bethink yourself! How can you celebrate without a flag? The Herr Lieutenant is a military character, of course he must have a flag. Möller!" he went on, without hesitation, "go into the house, and bring me out two sheets, and sew them together lengthways; Krischan Päsel, bring me a nice, smooth, straight beanpole; and you, Triddelsitz, get me the brush that you mark bags with, and an inkstand!"

"What under heaven are you going to do, Zachary," said Habermann, shaking his head.

"Karl," said Bräsig, "it is a mercy he was in the Prussian army, if he had been in the Mecklenburg, we couldn't have got the colors; but the Prussian--black ink, white linen, and there are your colors!"

Habermann would have entered a protest, but he thought: "Well, let him work, the young Herr will understand that it is all meant well."

So Bräsig worked away, and painted a great "Vivat!!!" with the brush. "Hold it tight!" he cried to Marie Möller, and Fritz Triddelsitz, whom he had pressed into the service as assistants, "so that the 'Herr Lieutenant' and 'Frau Lieutenant' may come out nice and clear on the flag!" for he had decided upon these words to put under the "Vivat," instead of "A. von Rambow" and "F. von Satrup" which had been his first thought: for these were merely a couple of names of the nobility, and having lived among noblemen all his life he held them for nothing remarkable; but he had not had so much to do with lieutenants, and considered the title a very high one.

When he had finished his flag, he ran up to fasten it on the highest point of the manor-house, then puffed down stairs again, to see the effect from outside, and placed himself at the door of the granary, and then at the sheep-barn, but nowhere did it seem to satisfy him.

"It don't look right, Karl," said he, much annoyed; but, after a little reflection, he placed himself before the green archway, and called out, "Karl, what am I thinking of? This is the right spot, from which they will perceive it!"

"But, Bräsig," remonstrated Habermann, "it would cover our triumphal arch entirely, and under the tall poplars there wouldn't be a breath of air for the flag, and the two heavy old sheets would hang down on the bean-pole like a great icicle."

"I'll make it all right, Karl," and Bräsig pulled out from his pocket a long string, which he proceeded to fasten to the upper, outer end of his flag. "Gust Kegel," he called to one of the swineherds, "are you a good climber?"

"Yes, Herr Inspector," said Gust.

"Well, my dear swine-marquis," said Bräsig, laughing at his own joke, and all the men and boys and girls laughed with him, "just take this end of the string, and climb into that poplar, and draw it tight." And Gust did the business very skilfully, and drew the string tight and hauled up the sail, as if all Pumpelhagen were making ready to sail off and Bräsig stood by the bean-pole, as if he were standing by the mast of his ship, an admiral commanding a whole fleet: "They may come now, Karl, whenever they like; I am ready."

But Fritz Triddelsitz was not ready yet, for he had appointed himself commander of the land-forces, and wished to draw them up in military array, by the sheep-barn, on one side the old day-laborers, and the servants, and farm-boys, and on the other, the house-wives, servant-maids and little girls. After much instruction, he had got his breeches-company about half-drilled, but with the petticoat-company he could do nothing at all. The house-wives' carried, instead of a weapon, a baby each, upon the left arm, that little Jochen and Hinning might be able to see too, and manœuvred with them in a highly irregular manner; the maid-servants declined to recognize Fritz as their commander, and Fika Degel called out to him that Mamselle Möller was their corporal, and the light-troops of young girls skirmished behind poplars and stonewalls, as if the enemy were in sight, and they in danger of being taken prisoners. Fritz Triddelsitz struck fiercely at his troops with his cane, which he carried as a staff of command, and told them they were not worth their salt, and, going up to Habermann, vowed he would have nothing more to do with the concern; but if Habermann had no objections he would take his gray pony, and ride off to see how soon the Herr lieutenant and his lady would arrive. Habermann hesitated, mainly out of consideration for the old Gray; but Bräsig whispered quite audibly, "Let him go, Karl, then we shall be rid of the greyhound, and it will be much nicer."

So Fritz rode off on the Gray, towards Gurlitz; but a new annoyance intruded itself in Bräsig's plan, that was schoolmaster Strull, who came marching up with the school-children, descendants of Asel and £gel, with open psalm-books in their hands. The order which Fritz had not been able to accomplish with an hour's training, Master Strull had held for a whole year; he advanced his troops in two divisions, in the first stood the Asels, whose singing could always be relied upon, in the second, were the Egels, of whom he was--alas! but too well aware, that each one had his own idea of time and melody.

"Preserve us, Karl, what is all this?" asked Bräsig, as he saw the schoolmaster approaching.

"Now, Zachary, Master Strull wishes to show honor to the young Herr, as well as the rest of us, and why shouldn't the children have a chance to show what they have learned?"

"Too ecclesiastical, Karl; altogether too ecclesiastical for a lieutenant? Haven't you got a drum or a trumpet?"

"No," laughed Habermann, "we don't keep that sort of agricultural implement."

"Very unfortunate," said Bräsig, "but hold! Krischan Däsel, come and hold the flag a moment! It is all right, Karl," said he, as he went off. But if Habermann had known what he had in his mind, he would have called it all wrong. Bräsig beckoned the night-watchman, David Däsel, to step aside, and asked him where his instrument was. David bethought himself a little, and finally answered, "Here!" holding up his staff, for Fritz Triddelsitz had ordered all the day-laborers to bring them along, "that they might do the honors to the Herr Lieutenant," as he said.

"Blockhead!" cried Bräsig, "I mean your musical instrument."

"You mean my horn? That is at home."

"Can you play pieces on it?"

"Yes," said David Däsel, he could play one.

"Well," said Bräsig, "bring your instrument, and come out behind the cattle-stall, and I will hear you play."

And when they were alone, David put the horn to his mouth, and blew, as if the whole cattle-stall were in flames: "The Prussians have taken Paris. Good times are coming now,--toot! toot!" for he was very musical. "Hold!" said Bräsig, "you must blow quietly now, for I want to give Habermann a pleasant surprise; by and by, when the lieutenant comes, you can blow louder. And when the schoolmaster is through with his ecclesiastical business, then keep watch of me; I will give you a sign, when I wave the flag three times, then begin."

"Yes, Herr Inspector; but the old watch-dog ought to be tied fast in his kennel, for we are not on good terms of late, and whenever he sees me with my horn, he flies at me."

"It shall be attended to," said Bräsig, and he went back with Däsel, to the celebration, and grasped his flag-staff again, just at the right moment, for Fritz Triddelsitz came riding over the hill, as fast as old Gray could gallop: "They are coming! They're coming! They are in Gurlitz already!"

They were coming. Axel von Rambow and his lovely young wife rode slowly on, in the lovely morning; the chaise-top was down, and Axel pointed over the wide green fields, full of sunshine, to the cool shadows of the Pumpelhagen park: "See, dearest Frida, this is our home." The words were few, but much happiness lay in them, and much pride, that he was in circumstances to spread a soft couch for the dearest one he had on earth; if he had said it in a thousand words, she could not have understood him more clearly. She felt the happiness and pride in his heart, and a great wave of love and thankfulness broke over her own. Everything about her was cool, and fresh, and clear; she was like a cool brook, which, until now, had flowed under green, silent shadows, aside from the highway, through hills and forests, and now springs forth suddenly into golden sunshine, and sees in its own depths bright pebbles and close-shut mussels, treasures of which it had never dreamed, and bright little fish darting hither and yon, like wishes and longings for working and waking, and green banks and flowers mirrored in the clear water, like her joyous future life.

And outwardly, she was cool, and fresh, and clear, and agreed in all respects with Krischan Däsel's description; but if one had seen her at this moment, as she looked over toward the Pumpelhagen garden, and back again into her young husband's face, he would have seen the fresh cheeks take on a deeper glow, and the clear light that shone from her gray eyes, a softer, warmer radiance, as when the summer evening bends over the bright world, and hushes it to sweet sleep with a cradle-song.

"Ah," she cried, pressing his hand, "how beautiful it is here, at your home! What rich fields! Only see, how stately the wheat stands! I have never seen it so before."

"Yes," said Axel, happy in her pleasure, "we have a rich country, much richer than your region."

He might have kept silence, now, and it would have been quite as well; but she had touched unwittingly upon his favorite province, that of agriculture, and he must needs show her that he knew something of it, so he added: "But that must all be altered. We are lacking in intelligence, we don't know how to make the most of our soil. See! yonder there, over the hill, where the wheat is growing, that belongs to Pumpelhagen, wait a couple of years, and we will have all sorts of commercial products growing here, and bringing us three times the profit." And he began to harvest his hemp and hops and oil-seeds, and anise and cummin, and sprinkled among them, like an intelligent farmer, lucerne and esparcet also, "to keep his cattle in good condition," and while he was among the dyer's weeds, and selling his red madder, and blue woad, and yellow weld for a good price, and well in the saddle on his high horse, up shot a living example of all these bright colors, close by the turn, on this side of Gurlitz, who was also on a high horse, that is the gray pony. This was Fritz Triddelsitz, who went up like a complete rainbow, and disappeared like a shooting star.

"What was that?" cried Frida, and Axel called "Hallo! hallo!"

But Fritz never looked round, he must carry tidings to the gate-of-honor, and he had barely time, as he galloped through Gurlitz, to call out to Pomuchelskopp, who stood in his door, "They are coming! They will be in Gurlitz in five minutes!" and Pomuchelskopp called over the garden fence, toward the arbor: "Come, Malchen and Salchen! It is time now!"

And Malchen and Salchen threw down the landscape paintings they were embroidering, among the nettles by the arbor, and tied on their straw hats, and fastened themselves one on each side, to Father Pomuchelskopp's elbows, and Father Pomuchelskopp said, "Now don't look round, for pity's sake, for it must appear as if we had just gone out walking, for all I care, to see the beauties of nature."

But misfortune was impending. As Muchel and his young ladies stepped out of the door, and Axel rode slowly through the village, while his young wife asked him "who was that lovely girl, who just greeted us?" and he replied that it was Louise Habermann, his inspector's daughter, and the house where she stood was the parsonage, the devil of housekeeping possessed old Häuning to come out, in her white kerchief and old black merino sacque,--for it still held together, and was plenty good enough,--to feed the little turkeys with malt grains. When she saw Pomuchelskopp walking off with his two daughters, she thought it a great piece of impertinence for her Muchel to go off without her; she wiped her hands on the old black merino, and hastened after, black and white, stiff and straight, as if one of the old, mouldering tombstones, in the church-yard near by, had taken a fancy to go walking for pleasure.

"Muchel!" she called after her husband.

"Don't look round!" said Muchel, "it must all appear quite natural."

"Kopp," she cried, "will you stop? shall I run myself out of breath for you?"

"For all I care," said Pomuchelskopp angrily. "Don't look round, children, I hear the carriage, it must seem quite off-hand."

"But, father," said Salchen, "it is mother."

"Ah, mother here, and mother there!" cried Pomuchelskopp, downright angry, "she will spoil the whole business! But, my dear children," he added, upon a little reflection, "you need not tell mother I said so."

And Klücking came puffing up: "Kopp!" but she had not time for fuller expression of her feelings, for the carriage came opposite, and Pomuchelskopp stood, bowing: "A-a-ah! Congratulations--best wishes, God bless them!" and Malchen and Salchen courtesied, and Axel bade the coachman stop, and said he was very happy to see his Herr Neighbor and his family looking so well, and Muchel tugged secretly at the old black sacque, to make Häuning courtesy also, but she stood stiff and straight, puffing away, as if the reception was too warm to suit her, and Frida sat there, very cool, as if the thing was not much to her taste. And Muchel began to speak of the wonderful coincidence, that he should have just started out walking with his two daughters, but he got a poke from his Hänning's elbow, and heard a venomous whisper, "So your wife is of no account, is she?" so that he lost the thread of his discourse, and went rambling about in a distressed manner, until Axel bade the coachmen drive on, saying he hoped to see Herr Pomuchelskopp again soon.

Pomuchelskopp stood in anguish, by the roadside, hanging his head, and Malchen and Salchen took hold of his arms again, and instead of going on naturally with their walk they went back to the house. Blind behind him marched Hänning, and led him, with gentle reproaches, back to his duty again; but he remembered this hour for a year and a day, and her reproofs he never forgot while his life lasted.

"Those seem very disagreeable people," said Frida, as they drove on.

"They are, indeed," replied Axel, "but they are very rich."

"Mere riches are a small recommendation," said Frida.

"True, dear Frida, but the man is a large proprietor, and since they are such near neighbors, we must keep up some intercourse with these people."

"Do you really mean it, Axel?"

"Certainly," he replied.

She sat a little while, reflecting, and then inquired, suddenly;--

"What sort of man is the Pastor?"

"I know very little of him, myself, but my father thought very highly of him, and my inspector reveres him wonderfully. But," he added, after a moment, "that is natural enough, the Pastor has brought up his only daughter, since she was a little child."

"Oh, yes, that charming girl, at the door of the parsonage; but the Pastor's wife must have had the most to do with that. Do you know her?"

"Why yes,--that is to say, I have seen her,--she is a lively old lady."

"They are certainly good people," said Frida, with decision.

"Dear Frida," said Axel, drawing himself up a little, "how you women jump at conclusions! Because these people have brought up a strange child, and--we will take it for granted that they have brought her up well--you--" and he was going on, in his shallow wisdom, which he called "knowledge of human nature,"--for it is an old story that those who have come into the world as blind as young puppies, and have only nine days' experience, are the very ones to pride themselves on their "knowledge of human nature; "--but, unfortunately for the world, he had no opportunity, for his Frida sprang up suddenly, crying,--

"See, Axel, see! A flag, and a triumphal arch! The people mean to give us a grand reception."

And Degel, the coachman, looked round over his shoulder, with a grin of delight: "Yes, gracious lady. I was not to speak of it; but now you can see it for yourself, and it is a great pleasure. But I must drive slowly, or else the horses will be frightened."