“They are at their evening prayers,” observed A. Z., “it is better not to disturb them. Come here, and listen to me. You have not often seen a house more beautifully situated than this, most probably!”
“Never.”
“The mountain peasants know how to choose a site! You have no idea how highly they value a view of this kind, or how they feel the beauty of their scenery; their eyes and minds are from infancy accustomed to grand and striking forms—the want of them causes the ennui and listlessness called Maladie du pays, Nostalgie or Heimweh, from which all mountaineers suffer, more or less, when in a town or distant from their mountains. I can understand it, as I have actually felt this maladie, for which, by the by, we have no English name, when I was obliged to remain in Munich for some time, about two years ago. The peasant to whom that house and all those fruitful fields below us belong, is about deliberately to die of this most lingering and melancholy disease; he intends to emigrate to America!”
“Oh, what a fool!” cried Hamilton.
“I have said as much to him, but in rather more civil terms,” answered A. Z.; “but all to no purpose; perhaps, when you know his motives, you may think differently, though I cannot. The extreme cheapness of education in Bavaria is a great temptation to the peasants, when their sons distinguish themselves at the German schools, to let them continue their education, learn Latin, and afterwards study at the University. It is a common thing for them to rise to eminence in the learned professions, and the eldest son of my friend Felsenbauer here would most probably have done so, had it not chanced that when he had nearly completed his studies, that revolutionary attempt of the students took place in the year 1830, of which you may, perhaps, have heard. Whether or not he was implicated, is unknown; but after having concealed himself for some time, and found that all his most intimate friends had been imprisoned, he wrote to his father for money, and went off to America. He has married an American, and is so advantageously placed at Cincinnati, that he is most desirous to have his family near him, and his letters are from year to year more pressing. The old man is now only waiting to find a purchaser for his house and grounds!”
“I understand,” said Hamilton, laughing; “you think that house, with a few alterations, might be made as comfortable as it is pretty. What price does he demand?”
“About twelve hundred pounds; but he will not get more than a thousand for it; and is therefore likely to have to wait for a year or two before he finds a purchaser; so you have plenty of time either to buy it, or change your mind, which I suspect you will do after your return home. At all events I recommend your inspecting it some day with Herrmann, who understands such things perfectly—it will not be uninteresting to you to know the financial position of a peasant of this kind, and if he have the smallest hopes of your ever being a purchaser, he will unreservedly show you all his accounts.”
While they were speaking, the peasant and his wife, followed by their second son and daughter, came out of the house, and a long conversation ensued. It was so dark when A. Z. proposed leaving, that the old man insisted on accompanying her home with a lantern.