"I cannot bear it. I shall die soon if I cannot go."
When Pluizer roused him the following morning, he was still sitting by the window, where he had fallen asleep with his head on his arm.
The days passed by—grew long and warm—and there came no change. Yet Johannes did not die, and had to bear his sorrow.
One morning Doctor Cijfer said to him:
"Come with me, Johannes. I have to visit a patient."
Doctor Cijfer was known to be a learned man, and many appealed to him to ward off sickness and death. Johannes had already accompanied him many times.
Pluizer was unusually frolicsome this morning. Again and again he stood on his head, danced and tumbled, and perpetrated all kinds of reckless tricks. His face wore a constant, mysterious grin, as if he had a surprise all ready for the springing. Johannes was very much afraid of him in this humor.
But Doctor Cijfer was as serious as ever.
They went a long way this morning—in a railway train and afoot. They went farther than at other times, for Johannes had never yet been taken outside the town.
It was a warm, sunny day. Looking out of the train, Johannes saw the great green meadows go by, with their long-plumed grass, and grazing cows. He saw white butterflies fluttering above the flower-decked ground, where the air was quivering with the heat of the sun.