His violent sobbing brought Grettl’a to him, but he could tell her nothing—he could only point to the cage, which now hung on its side, and mutter the one word,—
“Hin! hin!”—Away! away!
The little girl’s grief was scarcely less poignant than his own. She wrung her hands in all the passion of sorrow, and cried bitterly.
The Bauer and his wife now came to the spot, the one to join in, the other to rebuke, their afflictions. How little the children noticed either! Their misery filled up every corner of their minds—their wretchedness was overwhelming.
Every corner of the little hut was associated with some recollection of the poor “Star.” Here, it was he used to feed—here, he hopped out to greet Fritz of an evening, when the bad weather had prevented him accompanying him to the fields. There, he was accustomed to sit while they were at supper, singing his merry song; and here, would he remain silently while they were at prayers, waiting for the moment of their rising to utter the cry of “Maria, hülf uns!”
Each time the children’s eyes met, as they turned away from looking at any of these well-known spots, they burst into tears: each read the other’s thoughts, and felt his sorrows more deeply in the interchange.
What a long, long night was that! They cried themselves to sleep, to awake again in tears!—now, to dream they heard “Star” calling to them—now, to fancy he had come back again, all wayworn and ruffled, glad to seek his usual shelter, and be with friends once more—and then they awoke to feel the bitterness of disappointment, and know that he was gone!
“And he told me, Grettl’a—he told me ‘A good word brings luck!’” sobbed Fritz, whose despair had turned to scepticism.
Poor Grettl’a had no argument wherewith to meet this burst of misery—she could but mingle her tears with his.
We frequently hear of the hard-heartedness of the poor—how steeled they are against the finer affections and softer feelings of the world; but it might be as well to ask if the daily business of life—which to them is one of sheer necessity—does not combat more powerfully against the indulgence of sorrow than all the philosophy that mere wisdom ever taught?