CHAPTER VII.
When Paul was fourteen years old his father decided to send him to confirmation-classes.
“He will never learn anything decent in school, anyhow,” he said; “time and money are thrown away upon him. Therefore, he shall be confirmed at once, so that he can make himself useful on the farm. He will never be anything better than a peasant, anyhow.”
Paul was satisfied, for he was longing to take a part of the care which pressed on his mother upon his own shoulders. He thought of making himself a sort of inspector, who could at any time replace the absent master, and work himself where the farm-servants needed a good example. He hoped this activity might be the beginning of a new, prosperous time, and when he lay in his bed at night he dreamed of waving cornfields and brand-new massive barns. The resolution to use all his strength to bring the neglected Haidehof into good repute became stronger and stronger.
The brothers one day should be able to say of him: “He has been of some good, after all, even if he could not follow us in our brilliant careers.”
Yes; the brothers! How tall and distinguished they had grown meanwhile. One of them studied philology, and the other had entered a big bank as clerk. In spite of their good aunt, both wanted money, much money—far, far more than their father could send them. Paul hoped that for them also, as a result of his beginning farming, a better time would come. All surplus money should be sent to them, and he! oh, he would save and scrape, so that they might strive for their lofty aims, free from need and care.
With these pious thoughts Paul made his way to the first confirmation class. It was a sunny spring morning at the beginning of the month of April.
The fresh grass on the heath shone in greenish lights, juniper and heather budded with new tender shoots, anemones and ranunculus were blooming at the edge of the wood.
A warm wind waved over the heath towards him; he could have shouted aloud, and his heart was quite filled with rapture.
“There must be something sad in store,” he said to himself, “for on earth one may not feel so happy.”