The Wolf-slayer; [Margaret Kaurner]

by Christoph von Schmid

"'O, my dear mother!' said George. 'What will become of her now? She will be sadly cast down at the loss of the poor beast. Poor old Mayflower, she was the prettiest cow in the whole village. She was a beautiful brown, with a light white stain on her forehead, and was so sleek and glossy that a drop of water would not remain upon her hide. She was all my poor mother had. She yielded six or eight measures of milk a day. Alas! Alas! My poor mother,—now she will be poor indeed. The milk was her best, almost her only support, and she was not able to buy another cow. Alas! Alas!'

"The farmer and his wife tried to comfort the child as well as they could, who soon afterwards went to his bed-room, crying very bitterly. There he prayed, and then began to think what he could do to render help to his poor mother. Now George had a favorite scheme. When he went to service, he was warmly, but not smartly clothed, and he had made up his mind to purchase a new hat, and a scarlet jacket. He had not as yet received his wages, and with his mother's consent, he had determined to appropriate those wages to that purpose. A black hat and a red jacket were brave things in his eyes. All the boys of the village wore them. But this favorite project was now entirely forgotten.

"'No,' said he, 'when I take my wages, I will buy a goat, and bring it home to my mother; that will be some comfort to her under her misfortune. I can live well enough without the new jacket, or the new hat, but my mother cannot live well without a goat. Farmer Buhel has two fine goats, and I will buy one of them.'

"When he made known his intention to his master, the farmer paid the wages, and applauded his filial piety; but—alas! the goats were not for sale, their owner said, but still if a good price were paid, he might be willing to part with one. A good price was what George could not give, and sad at heart he returned to his master. His joy was gone. He was pondering some new way of helping his mother. We have said before that the children loved George as a brother, and so when they found him in distress, they began to plan, in order to devise some means to make up the money.

"Lizzy, the eldest, suggested that they should raise the sum out of their pocket-money. To this the others readily assented. Their mother highly approved the plan, but when their money was counted out, it was still found deficient. The children then wanted to give away their gifts, but this their mother would not allow.

"'No,' said she, 'you must not give away your gifts. I will complete the sum out of my own private purse.'

"So the money was made up. George, accompanied by the children, and shedding tears of gratitude, went to bring home the goat. And when they had obtained her, what a triumphal procession it was. How handsome she was—with her white skin, and coal-black spots, and her long soft hair, and curling horns, her bright glowing eyes, and her long flowing beard! How all the children patted, and extolled the purchase, and brought together more hay and grass, than the goat could eat in a week!

"Having obtained the permission of the farmer to visit his mother on the following day, and having been assured by several of the peasantry that there was no fear of the wolf, as he had kept aloof from the neighborhood since Baron Ulrich's hunt—the poor child made all his preparations. He was overjoyed at the thought of again seeing his mother, and being able to surprise her with so valuable a present. He scarcely slept a wink that night.

"Early next morning George set out on the road home. He hail a nice piece of bacon, a fair white loaf, and some flax for his mother, all wrapped up in a bundle at his back. He tied a cord round the goat's neck, and drove her before him. It was a sharp cold morning. The ground was hard with frost, and covered lightly with snow, and the hoar frost hung on every leaf and branch.

"As the little boy passed over the hill toward the village of Wolfsbuhl, he came to the ruined chapel. The door was open, and tying the goat to the iron handle of the door, he entered. Within, seated on a stone bench, he found a gray-haired and decrepid old man, with a large bundle of wood lying at his feet. He was weeping, and regarding the goat with a fixed attention.