But Vinzi, continued: “When I hear such beautiful sounds I always try to remember them so that I can sing them or imitate them. I wonder how I could do it.”
“But that couldn’t be a real profession,” Stefeli interrupted him.
“That’s what I am afraid of, too,” Vinzi admitted, quite discouraged, “but I can’t help thinking about it all the time. I have cut so many pipes and have tried out what one can play on them. I already have made five; on one I can blow very deep, and on another very high tones, and the others can play middle tones. I was just puzzling out how to play two or three at the same time, so that they could all sound at once like the church bells.”
“You might become a piper,” Stefeli exclaimed, quite happy over her inspiration, “that might be quite a good profession.”
“I don’t know,” Vinzi replied uncertainly. “Father would surely not let me, even if I could. He found my pipes in the barn one day and threw them all away. He told me to think of useful things instead of collecting pipes and thinking about such rubbish.” Poor Vinzi was quite depressed at those memories and it smote Stefeli’s heart.
“You mustn’t get sad on account of that, Vinzi,” she said comfortingly. “I am sure father just meant you not to have the pipes at home in the barn and stable. But why shouldn’t you have them up here in the pasture and think about them. I can easily watch and call out when I need you. Then you can go on cutting your pipes and we can put them into a hole under a tree and take them out when we are up here. I could help you blow them. I’ll blow the high one and you can play the low one and they’ll sound together like the bells.”
But these words failed to give Vinzi thorough consolation. He kept sadly staring at the ground before him and saying nothing more.
“Let’s talk about something else, now,” his sister said decidedly, for she did not like the effect their conversation had had on Vinzi. But before another subject was begun Stefeli started up violently, and calling her brother, flew away. Vinzi, glancing up, ran after her toward a party of strangers, who had been going over a narrow wooden bridge which led across the stream, when a little dog belonging to them suddenly darted into the midst of the cows and yelping loudly, drove them in every direction. The scared animals rushed hither and thither in their fright, and Schwärzeli, with her tail raised high, was galloping to and fro. This urged the dog to still more furious onslaughts. Stefeli rushed after the cows to quiet them, while Vinzi, going straight up to the dog, applied his whip so vigorously that the animal turned about and ran whining after the party. All this had proved to be such hot work that the children sought together the welcome shade under the big tree and flung themselves down there. They felt in need of regaining their breath and cooling off under the deliciously swaying branches. The cows also were peaceful again.
“I wish the dog had been on the side where the path leads up to the pasture,” Vinzi said now, sitting up. “I saw the most brilliant red flower there and it looked perfectly enormous, even from where I was. I never saw a bigger one; I’d run down to get it if it were not so far away. It is getting very hot.”
“Oh, I can find it,” Stefeli said with determination. “If the flower is so wonderful I won’t mind going so far.”