CHAPTER X
NEW LIFE IN ILLER-STREAM
Winter had come. For the inhabitants of the garret lodging the days were filled with so much regular work that the nights were always greeted with loud regrets and complaints. They were always sorry when the day was done and no more time was left for their plans. Agnes was especially angry and ready to spit fire from disgust at the arrival of the hated bedtime which always broke up everything.
“We lose half of our lives in sleeping,” she indignantly called out several times. “I wish you would let us sing all night long, Mother,” she said. “We should only be more keen for our other work next day, if we could really devote ourselves to music for a while, instead of always stopping off in the middle whenever we are in the mood to sing.” The children’s mother, however, did not agree with Agnes, so the nights had to be used for sleeping as before.
Cornelli’s singing delighted Agnes more and more. Cornelli sang everything as lightly and freely as a bird, and with such a clear and resonant voice that everybody got pleasure from it. There was no other voice in the whole school which was as sure and as full as Cornelli’s. Even the teacher said so, and during the singing lesson he placed her right in front of him, because she was the best leader of the chorus.
In the middle of winter Mr. Hellmut wrote to Mrs. Halm to inform her that he was taking a lengthy journey to foreign parts. As he felt that Cornelli was well taken care of in her household, he was anxious to use this opportunity for travelling. He also wrote that he had shortened his last trip in order not to tie his kind cousin and her friend too long to his lonely house. He told her that he was very sorry not to be able to pay her and Cornelli a visit before leaving, for he had to start at once.
Never before had spring come so fast. So at least it seemed to Cornelli, who was walking home alone one day from school. The winter had gone by and already a mild wind was blowing through the streets, and the melting snow was dropping from the roofs.
From the top of a roof a little bird was whistling and singing a song of delight to the bright blue sky above. Cornelli’s school had been over sooner than the other children’s, so she was in no hurry and stood still to listen. A ray of sunshine was flowing into the street, and the bird kept on singing and whistling, on and on, a heavenly, familiar sound.
Suddenly the lovely beech wood at home rose before Cornelli’s eyes, and she saw the trees in their first green leaves, the first violets under the hedge, her beloved first violets; she saw the yellow crocuses sparkling beside the bright red primroses in the garden. The birds at home used to whistle above her in all the trees in just the same way as these in the city.
Oh, how lovely the coming of the spring had always been at home! How wonderful it would be to see all these familiar sights again! At that thought Cornelli ran to the house as fast as she possibly could. Sitting down beside her ink-well she wrote as follows:
DEAR PAPA: