One Sunday afternoon, about a fortnight or so after his arrival, Bräsig rode up to the farm. Fred had by this time grown so far accustomed to his position with Hawermann, to his monotonous employment, and to the everlasting rain, that he was able partly to understand his duties as a farming apprentice, and with his customary good nature had begun to pay all sorts of little attentions to everyone about him. So when he saw Bräsig ride up to the door, he ran out to meet him and take his horse; but Bräsig shrieked out: "Keep away from me. Don't touch me. Keep ten feet away from me.--Let Charles Hawermann come out and speak to me."--Hawermann came: "Why don't you dismount, Bräsig?" he asked.--"Don't help me down, Charles--just fetch me a soft chair, so that I may dismount gently and gradually, and then put a sheep-skin mat or something soft beside the chair for me to step upon, for I've got that confounded gout again."--Everything was done as he wished. Foot-stools were laid from the chair to the door, and then he slid slowly and carefully from his saddle, and limped into the parlour. "Why didn't you let me know you were ill, Bräsig, and I'd have gone to see you with pleasure?"--"It wouldn't have been of any use, Charles, I had to crawl out of the hole myself. But I came to tell you that I've given up all hope."--"Of what?"--"Of marrying. I intend to accept the pension that the Count promised me."--"I think that I should do the same in your place, Bräsig."--"Your advice is very good no doubt, Charles, but it is hard for a man of my age to give up the darling wish of a life-time, and go to a water-cure place, for it's there Dr. Strump wants to send me. I don't have Dr. Strump to attend me because I believe that he knows how to cure me, but because he suffers from that wretched gout himself, and when he's sitting beside me talking learnedly about the benefit to be derived from taking Polchicum and Colchicum, I feel comforted by the thought that such a clever man has gout as badly as myself."--"Then you are going to a water-cure establishment?"--"Yes, but not till spring. I've arranged all my plans. I'll just manage as well as I can this winter; in spring I'll try the water-cure, and at the midsummer term I'll retire on my pension, and go to live at the old mill-house at Haunerwiem. I thought at first that I'd go to Rahnstädt, but I shouldn't have a free house there, and I'd have found a leg of mutton now and then too expensive a luxury to be indulged in."--"You're quite right, Bräsig. It's much better for you to remain in the country and near us; indeed I don't know what I should do if I hadn't a sight of your honest old face every few days."--"Oh, you wouldn't miss me much, you have so many people about you, especially these two lads. And that reminds me, there was another thing I wanted to say to you. Old Bröker in Kniep, and Schimmel in Radboom want you to teach their sons fanning. I should consent to take them if I were you, and by adding a room or two to the old farm-house you'd be able to set up quite an aquademy of agriculture."--"You're joking, Bräsig! I've enough to do with the two pupils I have already."--"Do you think so? I hope they are well."--"Yes. You know them both, and I want you to tell me what you think of them."--"I can't give any opinion as yet, I must first see their way of going on. The first thing to teach a young farmer is what a colt is always taught, to lead with the right foot. Look, there's your young nobleman, call him here that I may have a better sight of him."--Hawermann laughed, but agreed to Bräsig's proposal and called Frank von Rambow. "Hm!" said Bräsig, "he walks steadily and not too hurriedly, and doesn't put off time with looking about him, but goes straight to the point. He'll do, Charles. Now for the other!"--"Mr. von Rambow," asked Hawermann when the young man had come up to the window, "where is Triddelfitz?"--"In his room," was the answer.--"Hm!" said Bräsig. "Is he resting?"--"I don't know."--"Tell him to come down," said Hawermann, "and you'd better come back soon yourself, for coffee will be ready immediately."--"Charles," said Bräsig, "you'll see that the apothecary's son is sound asleep this afternoon."--"Never mind if he is, Bräsig, he was up very early this morning giving out the feeds of corn for the horses."--"He oughtn't to do it, Charles, young people get into the habit of sleeping in the afternoon only too easily. Ah, there he is. Send him past the window that I may get a good side view of him!"--"Triddelfitz," cried Hawermann, putting his head out at the window, "go to the stable and tell Joseph Boldten to have a pair of horses ready to drive Mr. Bailiff Bräsig home later in the afternoon."--"Bon," said Fred Triddelfitz, and then he set off at a good swinging pace along the causeway.--"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Bräsig. "What a high action the fellow has! Look at him, did you ever see such loose joints, soft muscles, and thin flanks! You'll have to feed him up for a long time, Charles, before he has what can be called a body. How he's getting over the ground! He's a quick dog that, a regular greyhound, and you'll soon have your hands full with him I wager."--"Ah, Bräsig, he's so young. He'll soon quiet down."--"Quiet? Sleeps after dinner? Says 'bong' when you send him a message? And, look there--yes--he's coming back without ever having been at the stables at all!"--"Didn't you say, Sir, that Joseph Boldten was to drive?"--"Yes," cried Bräsig sharply, "Joseph Boldten is to drive, and is not to forget what he is told.--Don't you see now that I was right, Charles?"--"Oh, Bräsig," said Hawermann, who felt rather cross with Fred for his stupidity, "let him be. We're not all alike. He'll do well enough if he only pays a little more attention to what he is told."
Hawermann seldom lost his temper, when he felt inclined to be cross he struggled against the feeling until he conquered it. In spite of the other ills of life which often filled his heart, such as care and anxiety, he always refused Captain Cross-patch admittance, and if ever he succeeded in making good his entrance, whispering ill-natured remarks and lies in his ear, he showed him the door at once and bid him begone, so that it was not long before he got rid of the intruder on this occasion also, and was able to enjoy a confidential chat with Bräsig which lasted till his friend went home.
CHAPTER VII.
The winter passed without the occurrence of any event of particular interest. Hawermann was accustomed to the monotony of his life, and was perfectly contented with it as far as he himself was concerned; but the young people sometimes found it dull and lonely, especially Frank von Rambow, for Fred Triddelfitz had his aunt at the parsonage, and his dear mother a little further off at Rahnstädt, to say nothing of the housekeeper, Mary Möller, who was close at hand, and who comforted him in his loneliness with many a savoury morsel of spiced goose, or sausage, so that there was soon a secret understanding between them. Sometimes they treated each other like mother and son, for Mary Möller was seven years older than Fred, she was quite four and twenty; sometimes a more tender sentiment was infused into their intercourse, for Mary Möller was only four and twenty, and Fred had always studied novels more diligently than Latin grammar when he was at school; indeed he had been a regular subscriber to the circulating-library, and was therefore quite up to the most approved method of conducting an affair of the kind. Besides that, his father's last words to him when he left home were: Learn everything practically, a piece of advice which Hawermann was also continually dinning into his ears, so he thought a love-affair might be as useful to him as any other branch of knowledge, and--do not misunderstand me, no harm was done--so it was, in providing him with an abundant supply of spiced goose and sausages.
Hawermann therefore had not to find amusement for Fred, but Frank was different, as he knew no one. Hawermann took him to call on Mr. and Mrs. Behrens, and when Christmas came he offered to take him to the parsonage, as Fred was in Rahnstädt with his mother. Frank accepted the invitation. It was splendid weather for sledging, so they drove down to the parsonage, where they found little Mrs. Behrens standing sentry by the parlour door to prevent them going in: "No, Hawermann, no! You mustn't go in there. Mr. von Rambow, may I ask you to go to my pastor's study."--And the moment they entered the study Louisa sprang to her father, kissed him, and told him in a whisper what presents she had prepared, and where she had hidden them, what she was going to do, and who was to act the part of Julklapp[[9]], so that she had only time for a passing bow to Mr. von Rambow. The clergyman however shook the young man warmly by the hand, and told him how glad he was to see him in his house on this festival day. "But," he added, "we must do as we are bid this evening, my wife is commander-in-chief to-day, and her love of rule is never so strongly developed as on Christmas-eve"--He was right there, for Mrs. Behrens popped her head in at the door every moment to say: "Be patient for one minute. Pray sit still, the bell is just going to ring," and then she rushed through the study with a blue paper parcel hidden under her apron, and next moment she might be heard laughing in the parlour.
At last the bell rang, the door flew open, and--ah!--there was the fir-tree standing on the round table in the centre of the room, and under it were arranged as many plates of apples, nuts, and gingerbread-nuts as there were people in the house, and two extra ones, one for Hawermann, and the other for his pupil. Mrs. Behrens bustled round the table, seized Hawermann and Mr. von Rambow by the hand, and, leading them up to the table, said: "This is your plate, and that is yours. Louisa and my pastor will be able to find their own for themselves," then turning round, she called out: "Come in," and the pastor's man, George, and her own two maids, Rika and Dolly, appeared in the door-way, ready to take their part in the rejoicings of the evening, "Come in, that's your plate with the half-crown stuck in the apple, and those with the red shawls are for the two maids, and the one with the red waistcoat is for George. And Louie ...," she got no further in her speech, for Louisa rushed at her with a cherry-coloured woollen dress in her hand, seized her round the neck, and stopped her mouth with kisses: "Mother, how good of you!" And now I must needs confess with sorrow that little Mrs. Behrens so far forgot herself as to tell a fib, not in words, but by nodding and winking at her pastor; so Louisa sprang to her foster-father, and exclaimed: "It was you who gave it me!" but Mr. Behrens shook his head, and replied that he was innocent of the charge. Then she threw her arms round her own father's neck, saying: "It was you, it was you." But the good old bailiff confessed with a sad smile that he had had nothing to do with it, and there were tears in his eyes, when after having stroked her hair fondly, he took her by the hand and led her to Mrs. Behrens, saying: "This is the person you have to thank, Louie," but the clergyman's wife was too busy at that moment at least to listen to thanks, for she called her husband to come and try on his new dressing-gown to see how it fitted him, and asked whether it was not lucky that she had fixed upon a new dressing-gown for his present, instead of the pair of trousers she had at first thought of. And as the dressing-gown fitted beautifully and was very becoming, she went back a few steps, and looked at her husband in the same way as a child, who has put her new doll in the sofa-corner that she may examine it from a little distance. When she turned round she saw a blue paper parcel lying on her plate, which Mr. Behrens had placed there unnoticed by her. She seized upon it, and while untying the string, wondered audibly what it could contain, and said she felt certain some one had been playing her a practical joke; at last the paper was removed, and there was a beautiful piece of black silk, enough to make a dress!--Every one was happy: Hawermann had found a new pipe on his plate, which he filled and began to smoke; the pastor had placed himself in the sofa-corner in his new dressing-gown, and rejoiced in seeing the happy faces around him; Mrs. Behrens and Louisa found it impossible to sit still, but were continually moving about the room, and holding the materials for their new dresses under their chins to see how they would look when made up, and stroking them to show how smoothly they would lie. Frank on the other hand withdrew a little into the background oppressed by the sad feeling that he had never known a happy home-like Christmas-eve. He rested his head on his hand as he thought that when kind friends and relations had asked him to spend his Christmas-holidays with them, he had there most of all missed the presence of the originals of the two portraits over which he had placed garlands of immortelles. He felt that he belonged to no one in this house either, but he must not destroy the pleasure of others by showing his sadness, and with a great effort he forced himself to look up and smile, and as he did so he found Louisa's large beautiful eyes fixed on him full of sorrowful sympathy as if she had been able to read his very heart.
"Julklapp!" cried Rika in her loud voice, and a parcel flew in at the door addressed to "Mrs. Behrens." It was a pretty ruche, and no one knew who had given it. And "Julklapp!" was shouted again. It was a beautifully worked cushion for Mr. Behrens' arm-chair this time, and of course nobody had had anything to do with it--Oh, what fibs were told at the parsonage that evening!--And "Julklapp!" A letter was thrown into the room which told of another letter that was to be found upstairs in the garret, and that told of another in the cellar, and that one of another, and again another ..... in short, if Mrs. Behrens wished to get a very pretty embroidered collar which was intended for her, she would have to run all over the house, and would at last find it close at hand in the cupboard where her husband kept his boots.--And "Julklapp!" It was a tremendous package this time, with Mr. Behrens' name upon it, but when the outer covering was taken off it was addressed to Mrs. Behrens, and then to George, and then to Rika, and last of all to Louisa, and when the last paper was taken off a small worktable was displayed, such as Hawermann had given his wife years ago.--No one knew that, however, but himself.--And "Julklapp!" Books for Louisa.--And "Julklapp!" A worsted-work footstool for Hawermann.--Rika acted her part to perfection.--But now it was all over and she came in to collect the bits of paper and string that were scattered over the floor; but the door opened again suddenly and unexpectedly, and "Julklapp!" cried a clear sweet voice, and when they looked at the packet they saw that it was addressed to "The honourable Francis von Rambow." Immediately afterwards Louisa slipped softly into the parlour from the study, her face beaming with happiness.
Frank was overwhelmed with confusion, but when he opened the parcel, he found a letter from his youngest cousin Fidelia, which informed him that she and her two unmarried sisters had each sent him a Christmas present. Alberta gave him a sofa-cushion, though he never lay on the sofa; Bertha--a saddle-cloth, though he had no horse, and Fidelia--a cigar-case, though he never smoked.--But what of that? They were all things that might have been useful, and it is the giver, not the gift that one thinks of at Christmas.--He no longer felt himself so much alone in the world, and when he saw how much Louisa rejoiced for him, he quite recovered himself and laughed and joked about his presents, and whether Louisa would or not, she had to receive his thanks for them, for he had recognised her voice when she threw in the parcel.
Rika then came back, and said: "They are all here now, ma'am."--"Then we'll go to them," answered Mrs. Behrens.--"No, dear Regina," said her husband, "let them come in here."--"But," she remonstrated, "they'll bring in so much snow on their boots."--"Never mind that," said the clergyman, then turning to the maid, "you won't object to get up a little earlier than usual to-morrow morning to put the room in order again, will you, Rika?"--No, Rika would do that with pleasure, and so the door was thrown open and in streamed, one after the other, all the little children in the village, flaxen heads, black heads and all! There they stood rubbing their noses, staring with great eyes at the apples and ginger-bread-nuts, and opening their mouths widely, looked as if they wished to show the good things on the table the way in which they ought to go.--"Now," said Mrs. Behrens, "let all our god-children stand in the first row. You know, Hawermann," she added, "that we, that is, my pastor and I stand nearest to our god-children after their own parents,"--More than half of the children came forward, for Mr. and Mrs. Behrens had stood sponsor for the greater number of the little boys and girls in the village. An impostor took his place amongst the rest, Joseph Rührdanz by name; he had noticed on the preceding year that the god-children got more presents than the others; but Stina Wasmuth saw what he was about, and pushed him away, saying: "You are not a god-son, boy!" so he slunk back unable to carry out his deception.
Mr. Behrens came forward with a pile of books under his arm, and he gave a hymn-book to each god-child whom he was preparing for confirmation, and to the others he gave copy-books, and slates, and primers and catechisms as they were most wanted, and each of the little ones said: "Thank you, god-father," but those who got the hymn-books said: "Thank you very much, reverend Sir," for they were older than the others.--Now it was Mrs. Behrens' turn. "Come," She said, "I'll take the nuts; Louisa there's the ginger-bread for you, and Mr. von Rambow, please take the basket of apples, and let us go down each row.--Arrange yourselves in line, children, and have your dishes ready."--There was so much pushing and shoving that this was a work of time, for everyone wished to be in the first row,--at last they were all ready with their dishes in their hands. The little girls held their aprons up at the corners, but the boys were provided with anything and everything that would hold their cakes and fruit; one had a tin measure; another a flour bowl; another his father's hat, and another with quiet self-possession held up a great five bushel sack in the firm persuasion that it would be filled to the very top.--Now the division of the spoil began.--"Look! here, here, here--stop!" cried Mrs. Behrens as she reached a mischievous looking little lad, "this boy is to have no apples, Mr. von Rambow, for he helped himself in the garden last summer."--"Oh, ma'am!"--"Boy, didn't I myself chase you out of the big apple-tree near the wall with a pitch-fork?"--"Oh, Mrs. Behrens!"--"No, no, the boy who steals apples, gets none given him at Christmas."--The division went on quietly again till they came to Joseph Rührdanz, when the clergyman's wife stopped, and said: "Wasn't it you who fought with Christian Casbom last week at the parsonage gate, till Rika had to go out and separate you?"--"Yes, ma'am. He said to me ...."--"Hush!--Louisa, Joseph is to have no gingerbread."--"But, ma'am, we've made it all up again."--"Ah then, Louisa, you may give him the gingerbread."--At last the fruit and cakes were all distributed, and the children went away with their share, each merely saying; "Good-night, good-night," for it was not the fashion amongst them to say thank you.--No sooner were they gone than a different set of people came in coughing and scraping. They were the old spinning women, and the old brush-binders and wooden-shoemakers &c., in fact everyone in the village who was too old and frail to work any more. Mr. Behrens said a few kindly words of help and counsel, which were well received, and his wife gave them each a tea-cake which they were also glad to get, and as they went away, they prayed that the "blessing of God" might rest on their pastor and his family.