Their uncle only said, “Greet Dami from me; I have no time to bid him farewell,” and he was gone.
As soon as Dami came in, and learned that he was gone, he would have run after him, as indeed Amrie was almost inclined to do, but she constrained herself again to remain. She spoke and acted as though some one had ordered every word and every motion, and yet her thoughts flew on the way that her uncle had taken. She went with her brother, hand in hand, through the village, and nodded to every one she met. She had now returned to them all. She was on the point of being torn away, and she thought they must all be as glad as herself that she did not go. But, alas! she soon remarked that they not only would have willingly parted with her, but they were angry that she did not go. Krappenzacher opened his eyes and said, “Yes, child, you have a proud spirit, and the whole village is angry with you for thrusting your fortune away with your foot. Every one says, ‘Who knows but it might have been a fortune for thee,’ and then they calculate how soon you will come upon the Parish. Do something, therefore, that you may not come upon the public alms.”
“Yes, ah! what shall I do?”
“Madame Rodel would have willingly taken you into service, but her husband would not consent.”
Amrie felt, that from henceforth she must be doubly brave, that she might meet no reproach from herself or from others, and she asked again, “Do you then know of nothing that I can do?”
“Indeed you must be afraid of nothing but of begging. Have you not heard that the foolish little Fridolin yesterday killed two of the Sacristan’s geese? The goose-herd’s service is now open, and I advise you to take it.”[A]
This soon happened, and by noon of that day Amrie was driving the geese upon the Holder Green, as they called the pasture-ground upon the little height by Hungerbrook. Dami helped his sister faithfully in this work.
Brown Mariann was very much dissatisfied with this new servitude, and asserted, not without some truth, “that the odium followed a person their life long, who once held such an office. People never forget it. If you attempt any thing else they say, ‘Ah, that is the goose-herd;’ and if, even out of pity, they should take you, you will receive a poor reward, and bad treatment. They will say, ‘Ah, it is good enough for a goose-herd.’”
“That will not be so very bad,” answered Amrie; “and you have related many hundred histories where goose-herds have become queens.”
“That was in the olden time. But who knows, thou art of the old world; many times it appears to me that thou art not a child. Who knows then, thou ancient soul! perhaps some miracle will happen to thee!”