Seed-time and Harvest: A Novel

by Fritz Reuter

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Seed-time passed, and summer came; the young Frau went out but little, and the comfort which the old inspector would have taken from her bright eyes and cheerful disposition he must do without, for she had something dearer, something of more importance to do, even if all this importance lay wrapped up in a bundle of flannels; she knew how precious were the hopes and wishes which she cradled in her arms, and, for the time, all other duties were sacrificed to these.

Over Axel also, came with his fatherhood a vague, undefined feeling, as if it were his sacred duty and obligation to labor for his child; he began to manage his estate with great diligence; instead of superintending matters, in a general way, as he had hitherto done, like a sort of field-marshal, he conducted himself more like a corporal, who concerns himself about all the little details of his corporalship, and he stuck his nose into everything, even into the tar-barrel. He might have done that, and it is very well for a master to be interested in everything, but he should have left the commanding alone, for he didn't understand it.

He took hold of the management in the most unintelligent way, broke up the old man's arrangements, and when he had brought everything into confusion, he went into the house, and scolded the old man: "The old man has not the least method! He is too old for me. No, we cannot go on so any longer!" And Krischan Segel said to Diedrich Snäsel: "Well, what shall we do now, the Herr says so, and the inspector says so?"

"Well, neighbor," said Diedrich, "if the Herr says----"

"Yes, but it is all stuff and nonsense."

"Then you need not do it, and if he has said it, it is no matter."

So the harvest ripened, and the blessing of the fields must be gathered into barns, the rye was cut, and had stood three days in sheaves.

"Herr Inspector," called Axel from the window, and as Habermann came up he said, "to-morrow, we will bring in the rye."

"Herr von Rambow, it will not do yet, yesterday and to-day it has been cloudy, and it has not dried; the grain is still soft, and some stems are quite green."

"Well, it will do. How will you bring it in?"

"If it must be brought in, we should begin right behind the village, and go with two gangs, one to drive into the great barn, the other into the barley barn."

"Begin behind the village? With two gangs? Why?"

"The nearer we begin to the village the more we can get in in one day and the weather looks suspicious; and we must bring it in in two gangs, and into two barns, or the people will get in each other's way, and the wagons will interfere."

"Hm!" said Axel, closing the window, "I will think about it." And he thought, and came to the conclusion that he would get in this harvest with Fritz Triddelsitz alone; Habermann should have nothing whatever to do with it, and they would show him that he was the fifth wheel of the coach. They would begin at the other end of the field, and bring it in with one gang. What one gang or two gangs were, he was not quite clear in his own mind, but they were only subordinate matters, probably nothing more than some whim of the old inspector's, and he would have nothing to do with these, he meant to free himself from them entirely.

The next morning, at six o'clock, he was on his feet, and went up in a very friendly way to the old man, who was busy in the yard.

"Dear Herr Habermann, I have considered the matter,--you must not take it unkindly,--but I have decided to get in this harvest, with young Triddelsitz, quite by myself, and to give all the necessary orders in person."

The old man stood before him, confounded and dismayed. At last came, heavily and constrained from his breast, the words: "And I, Herr, am I merely to look on? And do you prefer the help of a stupid apprentice to my help?"

He held his walking-stick in front of him, and looked at the young man with eyes which shone in his old face with as much youthful fire, as if all the energy and activity of his long life were concentrated in them, and said frankly:

"Herr, you were a little boy, when I devoted my whole abilities to your good father,--he thanked me, on his dying bed he thanked me! but you? You have filled my cup to the brim, with your ingratitude, and now you wish to disgrace me!"

Then he went off, and Axel called after him:

"Dear Herr Habermann, it is not so intended. I only wanted to try myself." But it was so intended, as he knew very well; he did not want the old man in his way, he looked after him too sharply, and he felt ashamed before him.

The old inspector went to his room, opened his desk, and seated himself before it; but it was long before he could think and begin anything, and meanwhile there was great commotion in the yard. "Triddelsitz!" "Herr von Rambow!" "Where are you going, Jochen?" "Eh, I don't know, nobody has told me." "Fritz Päsel, what are you doing with the plough?" "Eh, what do I know? I was going to plough in the field." "Blockhead!"--this was Fritz's voice--"we are going to get in the rye." "It is all the same to me, if I am not to do it, I will not,"--and he tumbled the plough out of the wagon,--"what the inspector tells me, I do."

"Flegel!" called the young Herr. "Fritz Flegel!" repeated Triddelsitz, after him.

"What do you want?" roared a voice from the workshop.

"Where are the harvesting straps?" asked Fritz Triddelsitz. "There, where you stand," said the wheelwright; "and nobody has said anything to me about them."

"Well, what shall we do?" asked the day-laborer Näsel. "Lord knows," replied Pegel, "nobody has told us." "Flegel!" cried Fritz again, "we are going to bring in the rye; the wagons must be greased." "For all me," called Flegel from his shop, "the tar-barrel stands there."

"Herr von Rambow," said Fritz, "where is Habermann? shall I not call the inspector?"

"No," said Axel slowly, turning to go away.

"Well," said Fritz, who was growing distressed, "we cannot do anything about it this morning."

"It isn't necessary, we can begin this afternoon."

"But what shall the day-laborers be doing meanwhile?"

"Good gracious, the day-laborers!" said Axel, "always the day-laborers! The men can employ themselves usefully here, about the yard. Do you hear?" and he turned round, "you can help grease the wagons."

Meanwhile the old inspector sat at his desk, trying to write something, something difficult, which clutched at his inmost heart, he was going to separate himself from his master, to break down the bridge, which, between the late Kammerrath and himself, had united heart to heart; he would give notice to quit. He heard,--though not distinctly,--the stupid commotion outside, once he sprang to the window, as if he would give an intelligent order; no; that was all over, he had nothing more to do with it! He tore up the letter which he had written, and began another, but that also did not suit him, he pushed aside his writing materials, and closed his desk. But what now? What should he begin? He had nothing to do, he was superseded; he threw himself into the sofa-corner, and thought and thought.

When the afternoon came, by the help of the old wheelwright and a couple of intelligent old laborers, the wagons and the barns were so far ready that the harvesting could begin; and it began accordingly. Axel was on horseback, commanding the whole; Fritz, by his master's order, must also be on horseback; because his old, deaf granny was lame, he rode the old thorough-bred Wallach, which was also a springer; he himself was a sort of adjutant.

Now they could begin. Six spans of horses were fastened to six harvest wagons, and driven in a row, up to the yard,--order is the principal thing,--on one side stood the pitchers and stackers for the barns, on the other the pitchers, loaders and rakers for the field, and, on a given sign, the stackers marched off to the barns, and the field people climbed into the wagons; Axel and Fritz rode on, the wagons followed, and never in the world had there been such order, in the Pumpelhagen farm-yard, as on this fine afternoon; and we must have order.

The old wheelwright, Fritz Flegel, stood in his workshop, and looked at the procession: "What is all that for?" said he, scratching his head, for he had no appreciation of this beautiful order. "Well, it is none of my concern," he said and went back to his work, "but where is our old Herr Inspector?"

He was sitting in his room thinking; the first heat had passed, he stood up and wrote a brief letter, resigning his post at the next Christmas, and asking leave of absence, during the harvest, since he was superfluous under these circumstances; then he took his hat and stick, and went out, he could stay in doors no longer. He sat down on a stone wall, under the shade of a lilac bush, and looked along the road to Warnitz, from which the harvest wagons must come; but they came not, only Bräsig came along the road.

"May you keep the nose on your face, Karl, what sort of performances are you carrying on here? How can you get your rye in yet? it is green as grass! And how can you bring it in with six wagons in one gang? and what keeps the loaded wagons down there in the road?"

"Bräsig, I don't know, you must ask the Herr and Triddelsitz."

"What?"

"Bräsig, I have nothing more to say."

"What? How? What did you say?" cried Bräsig, elevating his eyebrows.

"I have nothing more to say," said Habermann quietly, "I am shoved aside, I am too old for the young Herr."

"Karl," said Bräsig, laying his hand on his old friend's shoulder, "what is the matter? Tell me about it!"

And Habermann told him how it all happened, and when he had finished Bräsig turned round, and looked savagely at the beautiful world, and ground his teeth together, as if he had the world between his teeth, and would crack it, like a tough hazelnut, and called, with a voice half-choked with rage, down the Warnitz road: "Jesuit! Infamous Jesuit!" and turning back to Habermann said, "Karl, in this Triddelsitz also, you have warmed a snake in your bosom!"

"Bräsig, how can he help it? He must do as he is told."

"There he comes racing along, and the six wagons behind him, making a procession--of loaded wagons! This is a comedy, this is an agricultural comedy! Go ahead! and when you get to the old bridge turn over!" cried Uncle Bräsig, dancing around, recklessly, on his poor gouty legs, as if they had brought about the whole mischief, and must be punished accordingly, for his fierce anger had given place to malicious joy.

"Here we have it!" he exclaimed, in great delight, for it happened just as he had said, as the first full wagon came up to the bridge, at a slow trot, it overset. "Stop!" they cried, "thunder and lightening, stop!" Fritz looked round,--well, what, now? He had not the slightest idea what to do; fortunately, he saw Habermann and Bräsig, on the stone wall, and rode up to them hastily.

"Herr Inspector----"

"Herr, you have crumbled your bread, and now you may eat it!" cried Bräsig.

"Dear Herr Inspector, what shall we do? The wagon lies right across the bridge, and the others cannot get by."

"Ride quickly----"

"Karl, hold your tongue, you are laid aside as a sheep for the slaughter, you have nothing to say," interrupted Bräsig.

"Ride quickly"--said Habermann, "no, let them alone, the servants are more intelligent than you are, they will soon get the sheaves out of the way."

"Herr Inspector," said Fritz anxiously, "it is not my fault. Herr von Rambow has ordered it all so, the wagons should drive in a row, and the men should drive quickly with the full loads."

"Drive on then, till your tongues hang out!" cried Bräsig.

"And he is on horseback, on the hill, overseeing and commanding the whole."

"Has he a sperspective in one hand, and a commander's staff in the other, like old Blücher, in the Hop-market, at Rostock?" said Bräsig mockingly.

"Ride up to the court," said Habermann, "and see that the first loaded wagon drives out again quickly."

"I must not do that," said Fritz, "the Herr has expressly commanded that the wagons should drive in again in a row, he says he will have order in the business."

"Then you may tell him the finest donkey I ever saw in my life----"

"Bräsig, take care!" cried Habermann.

"Was--was your little mule, Herr Triddelsitz," concluded Uncle Bräsig, with great presence of mind.

Fritz rode up to the court.

"Karl," said Bräsig, "we might go too, and observe the beautiful order from your window."

"Well, it is all the same," said Habermann, and sighed deeply, "here or there."

They went; the wagons drove into the yard, the first up to the barn-floor, the others waited behind, in a row. The men who unloaded were scolding that they must work themselves to death, the day-laborers were scolding about the damp rye and asking who should thrash it, in the winter, the servants were laughing and cracking jokes, in idleness, and Fritz rode up and down with an uncommonly easy conscience, for he was doing his duty, and following his master's orders. When all was finished he placed himself again at the head of the empty wagons, and the procession moved off. The pitchers and stackers came round into the shade of the barns, laid themselves down, and took a nap; they had time enough now.

"A very fine, peaceful harvest, Karl," observed Bräsig, "the whole court is as still as death, not a leaf stirs. It is very pleasant for me, for I never saw such an one before."

"It is not very pleasant for me, Bräsig," said Habermann, "I see trouble coming. Two or three more such pieces of stupidity, and the people will lose all respect for their master; when they see that he orders things that he does not understand, they will do what they please. And the poor, unhappy young man! and especially, the poor, poor young Frau!"

"There comes your gracious lady, just now, out of the house, and the nursemaid follows, with the baby-carriage, in which lies the little sleeping beauty. But Karl! come quick to the window! What is this?"

And it was really worth his while to go to the window, for Fritz Triddelsitz, who led the procession again, came gallopping across the court, on old Bill, and about ten rods behind him raced Axel, and shouted, "Triddelsitz!"

"Directly!" cried Fritz, but raced out of the other gate, and Axel after him.

"What the devil is this?" inquired Bräsig, and had scarcely time to express his astonishment, when Fritz and Bill and Axel came in again, at the water-gate, and raced again across the yard: "Triddelsitz!" "Directly!"

"Herr, are you crazy?" cried Bräsig, as Fritz rode past the farm-house, but Fritz gave no reply, and sat, all bent up, on his horse, laughing, amid the distress and sorrow around him, and would have greeted the gracious lady, but merely took off his cap, for the young Frau was asking anxiously, "Axel, Axel, what is this?" but got no answer, for Axel was very busy. And, all at once, Bill took the hurdle, before the sheepfold, and Fritz shot off headforemost, into a heap of straw, and Axel turned his horse, and called again, "Triddelsitz!" "Directly, Herr von Rambow," said Fritz, out of the straw-heap.

"What devil rides you?" cried Axel.

"He didn't ride me," said Fritz, as he stood--thank God!--on his own feet again, "I rode him; I believe Bill took a leap with me."

"He was trained for that," said Krischan Däsel, who came running out of the stable; "you see, gracious Herr, the Herr Count used to ride Bill to steeple-chases, and when he takes the notion he runs until he comes to some sort of hedge or gate, and then he springs over, and whenever he has done that trick, he stands like a lamb. You see, there he stands."

"Axel," said the young Frau, coming up, "what does all this mean?"

"Nothing, my child, I had given an order to the steward, and, when he had ridden off, something better occurred to me, and I wished to recall my order, and so followed him; his horse took a leap with him, and I rode back again."

"Thank God," said she, "that it is all right. But will you not come in and take luncheon?"

"Yes," said he, "I have rather fatigued myself to-day. Triddelsitz, everything goes on in the usual order."

"To command!" said Fritz, and Axel went into the house with his wife.

"Axel," she asked, as they sat at the table, "what does it mean? With us, at home, in the harvest, only one loaded wagon came into the yard at a time, and here you had six at the same time."

"Dear Frida, I know the old method well enough, but in that way, disorder is unavoidable; we have much better order, by having all the wagons driven in a row."

"Did Habermann arrange it so?"

"Habermann? No, he had nothing to do with it; I felt the necessity of emancipating myself finally from the supervision of my inspector, and I have signified to him that I would get in this harvest without his help."

"Axel, what have you done! The man cannot suffer that."

"He must, though! He must become aware that I am the master of the estate."

"He has always recognized you as such. Dear Axel, this will be a source of bitter sorrow to us," and she leaned back in her chair in deep thought, looking straight before her. Axel was not in a good humor: then the door opened, and Daniel Sadenwater brought a letter: "With the Herr Inspector's compliments."

"There it is!" said Frida.

Axel read the letter: "The Herr Inspector gives notice to leave at Christmas. May go at once. I need no Inspector. Can get a hundred for one. But it provokes me that he should give me notice, and that I did not get the start of him!" and with that he sprang up, and ran up and down the room. Frida sat still, and said not a word. Axel took that for a reproof, for he knew very well that he was in a dangerous path; but he would not allow himself to confess it, he must lay the blame of his fault upon other shoulders, and so he said, in his injustice:

"But that comes from your prejudice in favor of the old, pretentious hypocrite!"

Frida said not a word, but she rose quietly, and left the room.

She sat that evening, by the cradle of her little daughter, and rocked her darling to sleep. Ah, if thoughts could only be rocked to sleep! But a child comes from our Lord, and has yet a bit of heaven's own peace in itself, which it has brought from above; human thoughts come from the earth, and care and sorrow dog their uncertain, weary feet, and an over-wearied man can not sleep. Yes, Axel was right, he could get another inspector, a hundred for one. But Frida was also right: a true heart was to leave her.