HANS, THE OLD SOLDIER
Viggo was Beate’s brother. He was 10 years old. Hans was Viggo’s dearest friend. The servants on the farm called the old Grenadier “Hans the Watchdog,” for they said when he talked to anyone it sounded like a dog barking, and he looked as if he were ready to bite. But Viggo had once said that the Grenadier’s voice sounded like the rattle of a drum, and the old soldier thought that was well said. It was from that time on that Viggo and Hans were such good friends.
Hans the Grenadier was six feet two, and a little more. He was straight as a stick. His hair was long and snowy white, and it hung in a braid down his red soldier’s coat.
When he came walking up to the farm from his little cottage he always carried the ax on the left shoulder, like a gun, and marched stiff and straight, and kept step as if the sergeant were marching right at his heels, commanding “Left, right! Left, right!”
Viggo knew that sometimes Old Hans was willing to tell about the time he served in the army. He told of the battles, and first and last about the “Prince of ’Gustenberg.”
“That was a man!” said Hans. “When he looked at you it was as if he would eat you in one bite. And such a nose between the eyes! The Prince of ’Gustenberg had a nose that shouted ‘Get out of my way!’ And therefore they did get put of his way, too, wherever he showed himself.
“Do you know what the Prince of ’Gustenberg said when he spoke in front of the troops? ‘One thing is a shame,’ said he, ‘and that is to turn your back before retreat is called.’ And now you know what is a shame, my boy!”
Viggo sat silent a little while.
“Have you never known a little boy to become a general?” he asked at last.