Maggie sunk into a gloomy silence, and secretly wiped the tears from her eyes. Conrad made a triumphant face at her, and ate at his ease the peeled potatoes which he had so unjustly stolen from the foundling; and poor Walter, hungry and crying, stole to hide himself in his wretched bed.
It was very late; everybody had gone to rest, but Walter could not sleep. But when the rest of the family retired, he too, out of fear, pretended to go to sleep, but he could not do so; and as he restlessly tossed about upon his bed, the straw crackled under him. He thought he heard some one lightly calling his name. He sat up, and saw Maggie standing beside him, who asked him in a whisper, "Why don't you go to sleep?"
"Dear Maggie, I can't, I am so hungry!"
"I thought so, poor little fellow!" she answered compassionately. "Here, I picked up two potatoes while mother was in the kitchen, and slipped away a little bit of bread, too. Eat them, Walter! But take care that you don't let any crumbs fall in the bed; for if mother should find out to-morrow that you have had anything to eat to-night, it would be bad enough for us both!"
"Dear, good, kind Maggie, thank you, thank you!" said the child, while he eagerly devoured the cold potatoes.
"Good night!" "Good night!" said the children to each other as they parted. Maggie slipped quietly back to her bed again; and after Walter had satisfied his hunger, he slumbered sweetly and quietly on until the morning dawned.
The scene which we have just sketched may serve to give some idea of the loving hearts to which the poor foundling had been intrusted. Mother Bopp had persuaded her husband, whom she completely ruled, to take the child, because she thought that, where so many children had to be fed, one mouth more would scarcely add anything to the necessary expenses, and that the little sum which the mayor, squire, and magistrates were willing to pay from the town revenues for his keeping would be very useful to her in various ways. In what manner she fulfilled the duties which she had assumed for the deserted boy, we have already seen. At least, the "one mouth more added nothing to the additional expenses."
In spite of her cruelty, the boy was strong and healthy, and both in beauty and behaviour far surpassed the little Bopps. This was, however, only a new ground for her deep and intense hatred. Walter was maltreated, starved, and beaten. But, even if crying from pain and hunger, when Father Bopp commenced his daily practising upon his instruments, he would cease upon the very first tones, and, creeping close to the feet of the tailor, he would listen to him with the greatest apparent satisfaction. For this reason, the tailor-musician began to love the deserted boy even more than any of his own children, who never paid the least attention to his playing. This of course increased the hatred of Mother Bopp to the unfortunate orphan, and awakened the envy of her darling, the red-headed, noisy, wicked Conrad. Maggie had felt a tender compassion and real affection for the luckless child, from the first moment in which he had entered her home, a desolate but beautiful creature of about three years old. She cherished and protected him to the extent of her power.
The tailor began to give Walter lessons in music when he was only about five years old. He taught him upon a fife which was of the right size for his little hand, and he could soon play several dances tolerably well. It was his intention to render his progress as rapid as possible, and to teach him all the dances in common use, so that he might take him with him to play at fairs, parties, and wedding festivities. Mother Bopp had nothing to urge against it, because she saw that he would soon be able to earn some money in this way; but she always contradicted and battled with her husband, when he spoke of the astonishing talent which the child possessed, or expressed his astonishment at the rapidity of his progress. She said Conrad would have learned a great deal faster, if his father had only taken the trouble to have taught him. But, indeed, she thought it was better it should be so, for Conrad was far too smart to content himself with being nothing more than a town-fiddler. No, indeed! She had higher views for him: he should be a student. When such remarks were made by Mother Bopp, the tailor would heave a light sigh, and say, "Well, well, we'll see about that."