The group of listeners had constantly grown, for the boys from the other pastures waiting in vain for Faz and Jos, had gone to seek them. They got together every afternoon, usually to perpetrate some mischief, and Jos and Faz being mostly the leaders, they needed them. But the music pleased all the boys so much that they remained. The afternoon slipped away unnoticed.
One of the boys suddenly cried, “I hear the horn, it must be six o’clock.”
Immediately they dispersed, but before going they called back to Vinzi, “Bring it with you tomorrow! Bring it tomorrow!”
It was high time for Faz and Jos to collect their cows to drive them home.
“Please, Vinzi, keep the little chap away from us going home. We’ll get along much faster then. That’s the best way for you to help us.”
Vinzi was only too glad to take charge of Russli. If his cousins found him most useful that way, he had a good conscience doing it, though it certainly was no hard work. Russli was also satisfied. Taking Vinzi’s hand he strolled harmlessly by his side as if he had never played the slightest trick in his life. But he demanded to be entertained. Every time Vinzi stopped talking to listen to a bird’s song or the gurgling of the stream, the little chap reminded him of his presence. When they approached the house they saw the father standing under the door to greet them.
“Well, how did you get along the first day, nephew?” he asked. “How did you like it on our pasture?”
“A pipe, look at my pipe! Here, father, take it!—it sounds fine,” Russli interrupted loudly, holding the pipe as closely as he could to his father’s eyes.
“Look, there they come with the cows,” said the father. “Go in and show it to your mother. I’ll soon come, too.”
“I loved it on the pasture,” Vinzi was now able to answer. “It is splendid there under the trees. The day passed so quickly!”