He'd have to make room for it first, growled the fellow, and shot in among his horses like a hawk in a pigeon-house, so that they dashed at their mangers and kicked, and Uli only by constant "Whoas" and at risk of life got Blazer into the last stall. There he could find no halter for a time.
"Should have brought one," was the carter's remark. When Uli went back to the sleigh and untied his box, the wood-cutters were to help him carry it; but for a long time none stirred. Finally they dispatched the boy, who let the handle go when they were on the stairs, so that Uli almost tumbled down backward and only owed it to his strength that he did not. The room to which he was shown was not bright, was unheated, and provided with two beds. He stood in it somewhat depressed, until they called to him to come down and get something warm to eat. Outside, a cheerful, pretty girl received him, nutbrown of hair and eyes, red and white as to cheeks, with kissable lips, blinding white teeth, tall and strong, yet slender in build, with a serious face behind which lurked both mischief and good nature.
And over the whole lay that familiar, but indescribable Something, that always testifies to inward and outward purity, to a soul which hates the unclean and whose body therefore never becomes unclean, or never seems so even in the dirtiest work. Freneli—this was the girl's name—was a poor relation, who had never had a home and was always treated like Cinderella, but always shook off the ashes—a girl who was never dimmed outwardly or inwardly, but met God and men and every new day with fresh and merry laughter, and hence found a home everywhere and made a place for herself in all hearts, however they might try to resist her; therefore she was often dearly loved by her relatives even while they fancied they hated her, casting her out because she was the offspring of an illicit intercourse between an aristocratic relative and a day-laborer. Freneli had not opened the door. When Uli came out the brown eyes rapidly swept over him, and quite seriously Freneli said, "I suppose you're the new overseer; they want you to come down and get something warm to eat." There was no need, said Uli, they had eaten something on the way.
None the less he followed the fleet girl to the living-room in silence. In it Joggeli and Johannes were already sitting at the table, half hidden by smoking meat, both fresh and salted, sauerkraut and dried pears. A plump, friendly old woman came to meet him, wiped her hand on her apron, Held it out to him, and said, "Are you the new overseer? Well, well, if you're as good as you are handsome, it'll be all right, I don't doubt. Sit down and eat, and don't be bashful; the food's there to be eaten."
On the stove bench there sat yet another form, lean, with a white face and pale, lustreless eyes; she acted as if she were paying no heed to anything, but had a pretty box before her, and was winding blue silk from one ball to another. Joggeli was telling about the time he had had with the last overseer, and what he had had to stand since then, and how it seemed to him that it had been much worse than he could remember now. "All the torment such a fellow can make you, and you can't string him up for it—it's not right, I swear. It didn't use to be so; there was a time when they hanged everybody that stole as much as would pay for the rope. That was something like, but all that's changed. It's enough to make you think the bad folks have nothing but their own kind in the government, the way it lets 'em get away. Why, we don't even hang the women that poison their husbands any more. Now, I'd like to know what's worse, to break the law by killing somebody, or by letting him live; it looks to me as if one was as bad as the other. And then it seems to me that if those who ought to maintain the law are the ones to break it, they deserve no forgiveness of God or men. Then I think we ought to have the right to put 'em where they belong, instead of having to pay 'em besides."
During this long speech of Joggeli's, which he fortunately delivered inside his four walls, as otherwise it might easily have brought down upon him an action for high treason, his wife kept constantly saying to Johannes and especially to Uli, "Take some more, won't you, that's what it's for; or don't you like it? We give what we've got—it's bad enough; but at least we don't grudge it to you. (Joggeli, do fill up the glasses; look, they're empty.) Drink, won't you, there's more where that came from. Our son gave us the wine; they say it's good; he bought it himself down in Italy; it actually cost fivepence halfpenny the quart, and not too full a quart at that." When Uli did not wish to take any more the old woman still kept putting food before him, stuck the fork into the largest pieces and then thrust them off on his plate with her thumb, saying, "Ho, you're a fine fellow if you can't get that down too; such a big lad must eat if he wants to keep his strength, and we're glad to give it to him; whoever wants to work has got to eat. Take some more, do."
But at last Uli really could eat nothing more, took up his cap, prayed, and stood up to go. "Stay awhile," said Joggeli; "where are you going? They'll look after your Blazer, I gave 'em strict orders."
"Oh, I'd like to go out and look around a bit and see how I like it," said Uli.
"Go then; but come back when you get cold; you're not to work today, do you hear," said the mother.
"He'll have something to live through," said Joggeli, "they hate like poison to have him come, and I think the carter would have liked to be overseer. But I don't care if they are against each other. It's never good to have the servants on too good terms; it always comes out of the master."