"O Martin!" replied the wife, "it must be found, then. But this whole day has my heart been very heavy; and even if I made something very nice indeed, I don't think it would go to the right spot;" and when Martin asked why, she continued: "Thou hadst not been gone long yesterday morning when in came our neighbor's Clara, weeping and mourning, and said her father was like to die, and would I for God's sake come to their assistance and give him something nourishing. I could understand, then, how matters still it, and taking with me just whatever there was in the house, I ran down to the hut. O dear God! what misery was there! The man lay on a little straw, so white and feeble; the poor wife knelt beside him, crying and sobbing; and their children hung round them, half naked, and living pictures of hunger, and not a bit of bread in the whole house. And indeed, Martin, that is not the only home where such want is! I don't know, but it seems as if I ought not to enjoy one cheerful hour while so much wretchedness surrounds us."
While Martin let his wife speak out her thoughts, his eyes were musingly bent before him. Then he rose, and grasping Agnes's hand, exclaimed: "Now I know what to do, mother! A joyful heart will I have, for doing good to others gladdens the heart more than wine and good cheer. Let us see, then, what the dear God has given us." And now he counted out from the money first the rent due to his landlord, then enough to pay all that he owed, and lastily all that must go toward preparing for the next year s crop. Still there remained a pretty little sum, so he said: "Now, mother, count up the poor of our village, and heat the oven, and bake for every grown person two big loaves, and for every child a smaller one; and then send the bread round, adding to each loaf a jug of wine and two florins. Then when the people have a Merry Christmas, and can say grace without tears, our hearts will be light, I am thinking, even if we set nothing on the table besides our usual fare."
Now when Agnes heard her husband speak thus, her heart grew very happy, and she said yes to everything, and shook flour into the bread-trough, and baked all day and all night. So on that day when the church sings "Gloria in excelsis Deo!" there was not one in that whole parish who had not enough to eat; and many a one who for a long time had not tasted wine refreshed himself on that day, thanking with heart and lips the farmer and his wife. These two had merely their usual homely fare upon the table, but within their breasts were joyful hearts and the consciousness of a good deed.
So far, so good; but something else happened afterward; for as, according to the proverb, a pleasure never comes alone, so have good works an especial power of multiplying themselves. And of that we are now going to hear something.
When it came to the landlord's ears that his farmer, who was no capitalist, had made a Merry Christmas for himself in the love of the holy Christ-child, he was well pleased, and thought to himself that he too might try something of the same sort. Therefore he appointed a day (the octave of the blessed Christmas, New-Year's day) when all the poor in his parish should be invited to the castle. In the hall was a long table covered with a fine white cloth for the poor people, and a smaller one for himself and his family. At this small table he placed Farmer Martin and his wife Agnes, and near the head too, which has no small significance among knights and noblemen. But he said that he honored such excellent people as his own friends and relations, believing that the heart makes better nobility than a long pedigree.
When now the table was filled with the sons and daughters of poverty, grace was said by the chaplain, while all remained standing and joined devotedly in his prayer. Then were bread-cakes set on the board, and huge pieces if roast beef, and for each person a bumper of good old wine; but if any one was ill and could not come to the feast, then was his share despatched to his home, with a beautiful gold piece and a friendly greeting from his gracious lord. So all the parish poor had a second time plenty to eat and drink, and more than one enjoyed himself better on that day than ever before in his life.
When the people had had a good dinner, they thought the feast was at an end, and wished to express their thanks courteously to the host, but he begged them to wait a little quarter of an hour longer, for something else was coming. Then four lottery vases were placed on the table, one for the men, another for the women, a third for boys, and a fourth for girls; and when all the guests had been arranged ranged according to age and family, one after another put his hand into a vase and drew forth a number, one fifteen, another twenty-one, a third two, and so on until each person had a number. Then they looked at their numbers and thought, What does this all mean? and they waited full of expectation.
Suddenly a side door opened, and the servants brought in a wooden frame, on the four sides of which hung all sorts of garments, one side for men, another for women, and then for boys and girls, as at a fair; and everything was new and neat and strong, such as peasant-folks like to wear, and a number was fastened on each piece. Some one called out, "Now look for the numbers that you have in your hands." The men looked shyly at each each other, as if to say, "Can he really mean it?" but the women were more clever, and had soon found white and colored skirts, aprons, stockings, neckerchiefs, and handkerchiefs to match their numbers, and were helping their husbands and children in their search. Before long not one single thread hung on the frame, and every one possessed his appointed prize, and was rejoicing over it, for it really seemed as if to each person had fallen the very thing he most needed. Of course many were there who were in need of everything.
When now the time for leave-taking came, and the happy people thanked their gracious lord in their best manner, he shook hands with each one like a good old friend or father, at the same moment slipping into the palm of every man a thaler. Then were there fresh rejoicings and renewed thanks, and the worthy folk would not soon have made an end of it, if their benefactor had not quickly broken [{561}] a path through the crowd who blessed him, and so eluded their acknowledgments.