Books: Heidi

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"I shall be sure not to lose it," said Heidi confidently, and
she at once put the roll and the letter at the bottom of her
basket. The trunk meanwhile had been hoisted into the cart, and
now Sebastian lifted Heidi and her basket on to the high seat and
shook hands with her; he then made signs to her to keep her eye
on the basket, for the driver was standing near and Sebastian
thought it better to be careful, especially as he knew that he
ought himself to have seen the child safely to her journey's
end. The driver now swung himself up beside Heidi, and the cart
rolled away in the direction of the mountains, while Sebastian,
glad of having no tiring and dangerous journey on foot before
him, sat down in the station and awaited the return train.

The driver of the car was the miller at Dorfli and was taking
home his sacks of flour. He had never seen Heidi, but like
everybody in Dorfli knew all about her. He had known her
parents, and felt sure at once that this was the child of whom he
had heard so much. He began to wonder why she had come back, and
as they drove along he entered into conversation with her. "You
are the child who lived with your grandfather, Alm-Uncle, are you
not?"

"Yes."

"Didn't they treat you well down there that you have come back
so soon?"

"Yes, it was not that; everything in Frankfurt is as nice as it
could be."

"Then why are you running home again?"

"Only because Herr Sesemann gave me leave, or else I should not
have come."

"If they were willing to let you stay, why did you not remain
where you were better off than at home?"

"Because I would a thousand times rather be with grandfather on
the mountain than anywhere else in the world."

"You will think differently perhaps when you get back there,"
grumbled the miller; and then to himself, "It's strange of her,
for she must know what it's like."

He began whistling and said no more, while Heidi looked around
her and began to tremble with excitement, for she knew every
tree along the way, and there overhead were the high jagged peaks
of the mountain looking down on her like old friends. And Heidi
nodded back to them, and grew every moment more wild with her
joy and longing, feeling as if she must jump down from the cart
and run with all her might till she reached the top. But she sat
quite still and did not move, although inwardly in such
agitation. The clock was striking five as they drove into
Dorfli. A crowd of women and children immediately surrounded the
cart, for the box and the child arriving with the miller had
excited the curiosity of everybody in the neighborhood,
inquisitive to know whence they came and whither they were going
and to whom they belonged. As the miller lifted Heidi down, she
said hastily, "Thank you, grandfather will send for the trunk,"
and was just going to run off, when first one and then another of
the bystanders caught hold of her, each one having a different
question to put to her. But Heidi pushed her way through them
with such an expression of distress on her face that they were
forced to let her go. "You see," they said to one another, "how
frightened she is, and no wonder," and then they went on to talk
of Alm-Uncle, how much worse he had grown that last year, never
speaking a word and looking as if he would like to kill
everybody he met, and if the child had anywhere else to go to she
certainly would not run back to the old dragon's den. But here
the miller interrupted them, saying he knew more about it than
they did, and began telling them how a kind gentleman had brought
her to Mayenfeld and seen her off, and had given him his fare
without any bargaining, and extra money for himself; what was
more, the child had assured him that she had had everything she
wanted where she had been, and that it was her own wish to return
to her grandfather. This information caused great surprise and
was soon repeated all over Dorfli, and that evening there was not
a house in the place in which the astounding news was not
discussed, of how Heidi had of her own accord given up a
luxurious home to return to her grandfather.

Heidi climbed up the steep path from Dorfli as quickly as she
could; she was obliged, however, to pause now and again to take
breath, for the basket she carried was rather heavy, and the way
got steeper as she drew nearer the top. One thought alone filled
Heidi's mind, "Would she find the grandmother sitting in her
usual corner by the spinning-wheel, was she still alive?" At
last Heidi caught sight of the grandmother's house in the hollow
of the mountain and her heart began to beat; she ran faster and
faster and her heart beat louder and louder--and now she had
reached the house, but she trembled so she could hardly open the
door--and then she was standing inside, unable in her
breathlessness to utter a sound.

"Ah, my God!" cried a voice from the corner, "that was how Heidi
used to run in; if only I could have her with me once again! Who
is there?"

"It's I, I, grandmother," cried Heidi as she ran and flung
herself on her knees beside the old woman, and seizing her
hands, clung to her, unable to speak for joy. And the grandmother
herself could not say a word for some time, so unexpected was
this happiness; but at last she put out her hand and stroked
Heidi's curly hair, and said, "Yes, yes, that is her hair, and
her voice; thank God that He has granted my prayer!" And tears
of joy fell from the blind eyes on to Heidi's hand. "Is it really
you, Heidi; have you really come back to me?"

"Yes, grandmother, I am really here," answered Heidi in a
reassuring voice. "Do not cry, for I have really come back and I
am never going away again, and I shall come every day to see
you, and you won't have any more hard bread to eat for some days,
for look, look!"

And Heidi took the rolls from the basket and piled the whole
twelve up on grandmother's lap.

"Ah, child! child! what a blessing you bring with you!" the old
woman exclaimed, as she felt and seemed never to come to the end
of the rolls. "But you yourself are the greatest blessing,
Heidi," and again she touched the child's hair and passed her
hand over her hot cheeks, and said, "Say something, child, that
I may hear your voice."

Then Heidi told her how unhappy she had been, thinking that the
grandmother might die while she was away and would never have
her white rolls, and that then she would never, never see her
again.

Peter's mother now came in and stood for a moment overcome with
astonishment. "Why, it's Heidi," she exclaimed, "and yet can it
be?"

Heidi stood up, and Brigitta now could not say enough in her
admiration of the child's dress and appearance; she walked round
her, exclaiming all the while, "Grandmother, if you could only
see her, and see what a pretty frock she has on; you would
hardly know her again. And the hat with the feather in it is
yours too, I suppose? Put it on that I may see how you look in
it?"

"No, I would rather not," replied Heidi firmly. "You can have it
if you like; I do not want it; I have my own still." And Heidi
so saying undid her red bundle and took out her own old hat,
which had become a little more battered still during the journey.
But this was no trouble to Heidi; she had not forgotten how her
grandfather had called out to Dete that he never wished to see
her and her hat and feathers again, and this was the reason she
had so anxiously preserved her old hat, for she had never ceased
to think about going home to her grandfather. But Brigitta told
her not to be so foolish as to give it away; she would not think
of taking such a beautiful hat; if Heidi did not want to wear it
she might sell it to the schoolmaster's daughter in Dorfli and
get a good deal of money for it. But Heidi stuck to her
intention and hid the hat quietly in a corner behind the
grandmother's chair. Then she took off her pretty dress and put
her red shawl on over her under-petticoat, which left her arms
bare; and now she clasped the old woman's hand. "I must go home
to grandfather," she said, "but to-morrow I shall come again. Good-
night, grandmother."

"Yes, come again, be sure you come again tomorrow," begged the
grandmother, as she pressed Heidi's hands in hers, unwilling to
let her go.

"Why have you taken off that pretty dress?" asked Brigitta.

"Because I would rather go home to grandfather as I am or else
perhaps he would not know me; you hardly did at first."

Brigitta went with her to the door, and there said in rather a
mysterious voice, "You might have kept on your dress, he would
have known you all right; but you must be careful, for Peter
tells me that Alm-Uncle is always now in a bad temper and never
speaks."

Heidi bid her good-night and continued her way up the mountain,
her basket on her arm. All around her the steep green slopes
shone bright in the evening sun, and soon the great gleaming snow-
field up above came in sight. Heidi was obliged to keep on
pausing to look behind her, for the higher peaks were behind her
as she climbed. Suddenly a warm red glow fell on the grass at
her feet; she looked back again--she had not remembered how
splendid it was, nor seen anything to compare to it in her dreams--
for there the two high mountain peeks rose into the air like two
great flames, the whole snow-field had turned crimson, and rosy-
colored clouds floated in the sky above. The grass upon the
mountain sides had turned to gold, the rocks were all aglow, and
the whole valley was bathed in golden mist. And as Heidi stood
gazing around her at all this splendor the tears ran down her
cheeks for very delight and happiness, and impulsively she put
her hands together, and lifting her eyes to heaven, thanked God
aloud for having brought her home, thanked Him that everything
was as beautiful as ever, more beautiful even than she had
thought, and that it was all hers again once more. And she was so
overflowing with joy and thankfulness that she could not find
words to thank Him enough. Not until the glory began to fade
could she tear herself away. Then she ran on so quickly that in
a very little while she caught sight of the tops of the fir trees
above the hut roof, then the roof itself, and at last the whole
hut, and there was grandfather sitting as in old days smoking
his pipe, and she could see the fir trees waving in the wind.
Quicker and quicker went her little feet, and before Alm-Uncle
had time to see who was coming, Heidi had rushed up to him,
thrown down her basket and flung her arms round his neck, unable
in the excitement of seeing him again to say more than
"Grandfather! grandfather! grandfather!" over and over again.

And the old man himself said nothing. For the first time for
many years his eyes were wet, and he had to pass his hand across
them. Then he unloosed Heidi's arms, put her on his knee, and
after looking at her for a moment, "So you have come back to me,
Heidi," he said, "how is that? You don't look much of a grand
lady. Did they send you away?"

"Oh, no, grandfather," said Heidi eagerly, "you must not think
that; they were all so kind--Clara, and grandmamma, and Herr
Sesemann. But you see, grandfather, I did not know how to bear
myself till I got home again to you. I used to think I should
die, for I felt as if I could not breathe; but I never said
anything because it would have been ungrateful. And then
suddenly one morning quite early Herr Sesemann said to me--but I
think it was partly the doctor's doing--but perhaps it's all in
the letter--" and Heidi jumped down and fetched the roll and the
letter and handed them both to her grandfather.

"That belongs to you," said the latter, laying the roll down on
the bench beside him. Then he opened the letter, read it through
and without a word put it in his pocket.

"Do you think you can still drink milk with me, Heidi?" he
asked, taking the child by the hand to go into the hut. "But
bring your money with you; you can buy a bed and bedclothes and
dresses for a couple of years with it."

"I am sure I do not want it," replied Heidi. "I have got a bed
already, and Clara has put such a lot of clothes in my box that
I shall never want any more."

"Take it and put it in the cupboard; you will want it some day I
have no doubt."

Heidi obeyed and skipped happily after her grandfather into the
house; she ran into all the corners, delighted to see everything
again, and then went up the ladder--but there she came to a
pause and called down in a tone of surprise and distress, "Oh,
grandfather, my bed's gone."

"We can soon make it up again," he answered her from below. "I
did not know that you were coming back; come along now and have
your milk."

Heidi came down, sat herself on her high stool in the old place,
and then taking up her bowl drank her milk eagerly, as if she
had never come across anything so delicious, and as she put down
her bowl, she exclaimed, "Our milk tastes nicer than anything
else in the world, grandfather."

A shrill whistle was heard outside. Heidi darted out like a
flash of lightning. There were the goats leaping and springing
among the rocks, with Peter in their midst. When he caught sight
of Heidi he stood still with astonishment and gazed speechlessly
at her. Heidi called out, "Good-evening, Peter," and then ran in
among the goats. "Little Swan! Little Bear! do you know me
again?" And the animals evidently recognized her voice at once,
for they began rubbing their heads against her and bleating
loudly as if for joy, and as she called the other goats by name
one after the other, they all came scampering towards her helter-
skelter and crowding round her. The impatient Greenfinch sprang
into the air and over two of her companions in order to get
nearer, and even the shy little Snowflake butted the Great Turk
out of her way in quite a determined manner, which left him
standing taken aback by her boldness, and lifting his beard in
the air as much as to say, You see who I am.

Heidi was out of her mind with delight at being among all her
old friends again; she flung her arms round the pretty little
Snowflake, stroked the obstreperous Greenfinch, while she
herself was thrust at from all sides by the affectionate and
confiding goats; and so at last she got near to where Peter was
still standing, not having yet got over his surprise.

"Come down, Peter," cried Heidi, "and say good-evening to me."

"So you are back again?" he found words to say at last, and now
ran down and took Heidi's hand which she was holding out in
greeting, and immediately put the same question to her which he
had been in the habit of doing in the old days when they
returned home in the evening, "Will you come out with me again to-
morrow?"

"Not to-morrow, but the day after perhaps, for to-morrow I must
go down to grandmother."

"I am glad you are back," said Peter, while his whole face
beamed with pleasure, and then he prepared to go on with his
goats; but he never had had so much trouble with them before, for
when at last, by coaxing and threats, he had got them all
together, and Heidi had gone off with an arm over either head of
her grandfather's two, the whole flock suddenly turned and ran
after her. Heidi had to go inside the stall with her two and shut
the door, or Peter would never have got home that night. When
Heidi went indoors after this she found her bed already made up
for her; the hay had been piled high for it and smelt
deliciously, for it had only just been got in, and the
grandfather had carefully spread and tucked in the clean sheets.
It was with a happy heart that Heidi lay down in it that night,
and her sleep was sounder than it had been for a whole year past.
The grandfather got up at least ten times during the night and
mounted the ladder to see if Heidi was all right and showing no
signs of restlessness, and to feel that the hay he had stuffed
into the round window was keeping the moon from shining too
brightly upon her. But Heidi did not stir; she had no need now
to wander about, for the great burning longing of her heart was
satisfied; she had seen the high mountains and rocks alight in
the evening glow, she had heard the wind in the fir trees, she
was at home again on the mountain.

CHAPTER XIV. SUNDAY BELLS

Heidi was standing under the waving fir trees waiting for her
grandfather, who was going down with her to grandmother's, and
then on to Dorfli to fetch her box. She was longing to know how
grandmother had enjoyed her white bread and impatient to see and
hear her again; but no time seemed weary to her now, for she
could not listen long enough to the familiar voice of the trees,
or drink in too much of the fragrance wafted to her from the
green pastures where the golden-headed flowers were glowing in
the sun, a very feast to her eyes. The grandfather came out,
gave a look round, and then called to her in a cheerful voice,
"Well, now we can be off."

It was Saturday, a day when Alm-Uncle made everything clean and
tidy inside and outside the house; he had devoted his morning to
this work so as to be able to accompany Heidi in the afternoon,
and the whole place was now as spick and span as he liked to see
it. They parted at the grandmother's cottage and Heidi ran in.
The grandmother had heard her steps approaching and greeted her
as she crossed the threshold, "Is it you, child? Have you come
again?"

Then she took hold of Heidi's hand and held it fast in her own,
for she still seemed to fear that the child might be torn from
her again. And now she had to tell Heidi how much she had
enjoyed the white bread, and how much stronger she felt already
for having been able to eat it, and then Peter's mother went on
and said she was sure that if her mother could eat like that for
a week she would get back some of her strength, but she was so
afraid of coming to the end of the rolls, that she had only
eaten one as yet. Heidi listened to all Brigitta said, and sat
thinking for a while. Then she suddenly thought of a way.

"I know, grandmother, what I will do," she said eagerly, "I will
write to Clara, and she will send me as many rolls again, if not
twice as many as you have already, for I had ever such a large
heap in the wardrobe, and when they were all taken away she
promised to give me as many back, and she would do so I am
sure."

"That is a good idea," said Brigitta; "but then, they would get
hard and stale. The baker in Dorfli makes the white rolls, and
if we could get some of those he has over now and then--but I can
only just manage to pay for the black bread."

A further bright thought came to Heidi, and with a look of joy,
"Oh, I have lots of money, grandmother," she cried gleefully,
skipping about the room in her delight, "and I know now what I
will do with it. You must have a fresh white roll every day, and
two on Sunday, and Peter can bring them up from Dorfli."

"No, no, child!" answered the grandmother, "I cannot let you do
that; the money was not given to you for that purpose; you must
give it to your grandfather, and he will tell you how you are to
spend it."

But Heidi was not to be hindered in her kind intentions, and she
continued to jump about, saying over and over again in a tone of
exultation, "Now, grandmother can have a roll every day and will
grow quite strong again--and, Oh, grandmother," she suddenly
exclaimed with an increase of jubilation in her voice, "if you
get strong everything will grow light again for you; perhaps
it's only because you are weak that it is dark." The grandmother
said nothing, she did not wish to spoil the child's pleasure. As
she went jumping about Heidi suddenly caught sight of the
grandmother's song book, and another happy idea struck her,
"Grandmother, I can also read now, would you like me to read you
one of your hymns from your old book?"

"Oh, yes," said the grandmother, surprised and delighted; "but
can you really read, child, really?"

Heidi had climbed on to a chair and had already lifted down the
book, bringing a cloud of dust with it, for it had lain
untouched on the shelf for a long time. Heidi wiped it, sat
herself down on a stool beside the old woman, and asked her which
hymn she should read.

"What you like, child, what you like," and the grandmother
pushed her spinning-wheel aside and sat in eager expectation
waiting for Heidi to begin. Heidi turned over the leaves and read
a line out softly to herself here and there. At last she said,

"Here is one about the sun, grandmother, I will read you that."
And Heidi began, reading with more and more warmth of expression
as she went on,--

The morning breaks,
And warm and bright
The earth lies still
In the golden light--
For Dawn has scattered the clouds of night.

God's handiwork
Is seen around,
Things great and small
To His praise abound--
Where are the signs of His love not found?

All things must pass,
But God shall still
With steadfast power
His will fulfil--
Sure and unshaken is His will.

His saving grace
Will never fail,
Though grief and fear
The heart assail--
O'er life's wild seas He will prevail.

Joy shall be ours
In that garden blest,
Where after storm
We find our rest--
I wait in peace--God's time is best.

The grandmother sat with folded hands and a look of indescribable
joy on her face, such as Heidi had never seen there before,
although at the same time the tears were running down her cheeks.
As Heidi finished, she implored her, saying, "Read it once again,
child, just once again."

And the child began again, with as much pleasure in the verses
as the grandmother,--

Joy shall be ours
In that garden blest,
Where after storm
We find our rest--
I wait in peace--God's time is best.

"Ah, Heidi, that brings light to the heart! What comfort you
have brought me!"

And the old woman kept on repeating the glad words, while Heidi
beamed with happiness, and she could not take her eyes away from
the grandmother's face, which had never looked like that before.
It had no longer the old troubled expression, but was alight
with peace and joy as if she were already looking with clear new
eyes into the garden or Paradise.

Some one now knocked at the window and Heidi looked up and saw
her grandfather beckoning her to come home with him. She
promised the grandmother before leaving her that she would be
with her the next day, and even if she went out with Peter she
would only spend half the day with him, for the thought that she
might make it light and happy again for the grandmother gave her
the greatest pleasure, greater even than being out on the sunny
mountain with the flowers and goats. As she was going out
Brigitta ran to her with the frock and hat she had left. Heidi
put the dress over her arm, for, as she thought to herself, the
grandfather had seen that before, but she obstinately refused to
take back the hat; Brigitta could keep it, for she should never
put it on her head again. Heidi was so full of her morning's
doings that she began at once to tell her grandfather all about
them: how the white bread could be fetched every day from Dorfli
if there was money for it, and how the grandmother had all at
once grown stronger and happier, and light had come to her. Then
she returned to the subject of the rolls. "If the grandmother
won't take the money, grandfather, will you give it all to me,
and I can then give Peter enough every day to buy a roll and two
on Sunday?"

"But how about the bed?" said her grandfather. "It would be nice
for you to have a proper bed, and there would then be plenty for
the bread."

But Heidi gave her grandfather no peace till he consented to do
what she wanted; she slept a great deal better, she said, on her
bed of hay than on her fine pillowed bed in Frankfurt. So at
last he said, "The money is yours, do what you like with it; you
can buy bread for grandmother for years to come with it."

Heidi shouted for joy at the thought that grandmother would
never need any more to eat hard black bread, and "Oh,
grandfather!" she said, "everything is happier now than it has
ever been in our lives before!" and she sang and skipped along,
holding her grandfather's hand as light-hearted as a bird. But
all at once she grew quiet and said, "If God had let me come at
once, as I prayed, then everything would have been different, I
should only have had a little bread to bring to grandmother, and
I should not have been able to read, which is such a comfort to
her; but God has arranged it all so much better than I knew how
to; everything has happened just as the other grandmother said it
would. Oh, how glad I am that God did not let me have at once all
I prayed and wept for! And now I shall always pray to God as she
told me, and always thank Him, and when He does not do anything I
ask for I shall think to myself, It's just like it was in
Frankfurt: God, I am sure, is going to do something better still.
So we will pray every day, won't we, grandfather, and never
forget Him again, or else He may forget us."

"And supposing one does forget Him?" said the grandfather in a
low voice.

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