Seed-time and Harvest: A Novel

by Fritz Reuter

"And here he is," said the rector, leading in Gottlieb, who had been behind the door all the time, "and he wishes to receive his answer from your kindness."

And now came old Gottlieb, for once with nothing ludicrous about him, but like any other man. His clerical demeanor, and the exclusiveness of his Levitical calling, he had quite thrown overboard, since he had no room in his heart for such folderols. At this moment it was full of pure human nature, of doubt and hope, of fear and love, and those who could decide his happiness or misery stood before him as human beings in flesh and blood--Jochen to be sure was sitting--and real love, with its proper circumstances of betrothal and marriage, is such a fair, pure, human feeling, that truly no clerical parade can make it fairer. At any other time, Gottlieb himself would have been the first to dispute this assertion, but at this moment he was so overcome by this tender feeling, and expressed himself with so much warmth and confidence toward Frau Nüssler and Jochen, that Bräsig said to himself, "How the man has altered! If Lining has done so much in this short time, let her go on, in heaven's name! She will make a good fellow of him yet!"

Frau Nüssler listened to Gottlieb's straightforward story, and indeed she had always liked old Gottlieb, but the thought of losing her child overcame her for the moment; she was much agitated; "Good heavens!" cried she, "Gottlieb, you were always a good fellow, and you studied your books well, but----"

Here she was for the first time in her life, interrupted by Jochen. When Jochen understood that they were not talking about Mining, he became quiet; while Gottlieb addressed him, he was collecting his thoughts and, as he became aware that all eyes were turned upon him, he resolved to speak, and so he took the words out of his wife's mouth, saying, "Yes, Gottlieb, it is all as true as leather, and what I can do in the matter, as a father, I will do, and if mother is willing I am willing; and if Lining is willing I am willing."

"Good heavens, Jochen!" cried Frau Nüssler, "what are you talking about? Just keep quiet! No, I must first speak, to my child, I must first hear what she will say to it." With that she ran out of the room.

But it was not long before she came back, leading Lining by the hand, and behind her followed Mining and Rudolph, probably intending to make a practical use of this occasion; and Lining, red as a rose, dropped her mother's hand, and threw herself upon Gottlieb's breast, and then on her mother's, and then went and sat down on Jochen's knee--for he had seated himself again--and would have kissed him, but could not for coughing, for Jochen in his excitement was puffing violently at his strong tobacco, so she only said "Father!" and he said "Lining!" and when she rose, Bräsig was standing beside her, and he caressed her, and said; "Never mind, Lining, I will give you something." Then Gottlieb took her by the hand, and led her up to his father, and the rector bent so low to give her his fatherly kiss, that the others thought he was picking up a pin from the floor, and he began on a new oration, but did not get far in it, for Bräsig stood at the window, drumming "The old Dessauer," so that nobody could hear a word. The old man was staring over Jochen's barn-roof, into the clear sunshine, as if there were something quite remarkable to be seen there. And there was, in fact, something remarkable to be seen; he saw, far off, an apple-tree, which had been once covered with rosy bloom; it was his tree, he had propped and trained it, it was his tree, but Jochen had transplanted it to his garden, and he had been compelled to suffer it; but for all that, he had still watched and tended the tree, and the tree had borne fruit, beautiful red, round fruit; and the fruit had grown ripe, and was fair to look upon, and now a couple of boys had climbed over the fence, and one had plucked an apple, and put it in his pocket, and the second was reaching out his hand for the other. Well, boys will be boys, and apples and boys belong together; he knew that, and had often said to himself that it must come; he did not grudge them but it troubled him that the care of his little twin-apples should pass into other hands, especially he could not easily give up the care of his little rogue, so he drummed lustily on the window-frame.

And Kurz, the shop-keeper, blew his nose as fiercely as if he were playing the trumpet to Bräsig's drumming. It was not from emotion, that he blew it so impressively, only from anger; for he was the fifth wheel on the wagon amid all this domestic happiness, and yet he had come on an important piece of business; but the circumstances demanded that he should offer friendly congratulations, so with a face like a salt plum that has been steeped in vinegar, he passed by his son Rudolph without looking at him, and congratulated, right and left, as if he stood behind his counter, serving his customers, and must have a friendly word ready for every one, though he heard clearly all the time, behind his back, the whole vinegar barrel running out. But when he came to the rector, and should have poured him out a measure of oil for his pathetic oration, there was the vinegar, which his boy had left running, close at his heels, and he could talk to his customers no longer; he turned quickly on his heel, and cried to Rudolph, "Are you not ashamed of yourself?" then turning back to the customers, "I beg your pardon! but this business must be attended to--are you not ashamed of yourself? Have you not cost me more than Gottlieb his father? Have you learnt anything? Just tell me!"

"Dear brother-in-law," said the rector, and laid his hand with friendliness on Kurz's head, as if he had done his Latin exercise uncommonly well, "what he has learned, he cannot tell you in a moment."

"Eh, what!" cried Kura, twitching out from under the hand, and stumbling backward, "did you bring me along, or did I bring you along? I think I brought you along; it is time for my business to be attended to now. Are you not ashamed of yourself?" he cried, to Rudolph again; "there stands Gottlieb, has passed his examination, has a bride,--a fair, a lovely bride,"--with that he endeavoured to bow to Lining, but in his excitement always made his compliments to Frau Nüssler,--"can be a pastor to-morrow,"--Bräsig got this bow, instead of Gottlieb,--"and you, and you--oh, you have fought duels, and what else have you done? Got into debt; but I won't pay your debts!" and although nobody said that he should pay them, he kept repeating, "I won't pay them! No! I won't pay them!" and he placed himself by Bräsig, at the window, and joined him in drumming.

The poor boy, Rudolph, stood there, terribly mortified. It is true, nature had given him a pretty tough hide, and he was too well used to his father's abuse, to take it for more than it was worth, for nobody must believe that Kurz, in his inmost heart, was angry with his boy, no, God forbid! quite the contrary! because he cared so much for him, he was angry that his boy was not so well off as the rector's.