Books: Heidi

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"No, no, child," answered the old woman reassuringly, passing
her hand lovingly over the child's head, "It's only the frost
that has got into my bones a bit."

"Shall you be quite well then directly it turns warm again?"

"Yes, God willing, or even before that, for I want to get back
to my spinning; I thought perhaps I should do a little to-day,
but to-morrow I am sure to be all right again." The old woman had
detected that Heidi was frightened and was anxious to set her
mind at ease.

Her words comforted Heidi, who had in truth been greatly
distressed, for she had never before seen the grandmother ill in
bed. She now looked at the old woman seriously for a minute or
two, and then said, "In Frankfurt everybody puts on a shawl to
go out walking; did you think it was to be worn in bed,
grandmother?"

"I put it on, dear child, to keep myself from freezing, and I am
so pleased with it, for my bedclothes are not very thick," she
answered.

"But, grandmother," continued Heidi, "your bed is not right,
because it goes downhill at your head instead of uphill."

"I know it, child, I can feel it," and the grandmother put up
her hand to the thin flat pillow, which was little more than a
board under her head, to make herself more comfortable; "the
pillow was never very thick, and I have lain on it now for so
many years that it has grown quite flat."

"Oh, if only I had asked Clara to let me take away my Frankfurt
bed," said Heidi. "I had three large pillows, one above the
other, so that I could hardly sleep, and I used to slip down to
try and find a flat place, and then I had to pull myself up
again, because it was proper to sleep there like that. Could you
sleep like that, grandmother?"

"Oh, yes! the pillows keep one warm, and it is easier to breathe
when the head is high," answered the grandmother, wearily
raising her head as she spoke as if trying to find a higher
resting-place. "But we will not talk about that, for I have so
much that other old sick people are without for which I thank
God; there is the nice bread I get every day, and this warm
wrap, and your visits, Heidi. Will you read me something to-day?"

Heidi ran into the next room to fetch the hymn book. Then she
picked out the favorite hymns one after another, for she knew
them all by heart now, as pleased as the grandmother to hear
them again after so many days. The grandmother lay with folded
hands, while a smile of peace stole over the worn, troubled face,
like one to whom good news has been brought.

Suddenly Heidi paused. "Grandmother, are you feeling quite well
again already?"

"Yes, child, I have grown better while listening to you; read it
to the end."

The child read on, and when she came to the last words:--

As the eyes grow dim, and darkness Closes round, the soul grows
clearer, Sees the goal to which it travels, Gladly feels its
home is nearer."

the grandmother repeated them once or twice to herself, with a
look of happy expectation on her face. And Heidi took equal
pleasure in them, for the picture of the beautiful sunny day of
her return home rose before her eyes, and she exclaimed
joyfully, "Grandmother, I know exactly what it is like to go
home." The old woman did not answer, but she had heard Heidi's
words, and the expression that had made the child think she was
better remained on her face.

A little later Heidi said, "It is growing dark and I must go
home; I am glad to think, that you are quite well again."

The grandmother took the child's hand in hers and held it
closely. "Yes," she said, "I feel quite happy again; even if I
have to go on lying here, I am content. No one knows what it is
to lie here alone day after day, in silence and darkness,
without hearing a voice or seeing a ray of light. Sad thoughts
come over me, and I do not feel sometimes as if I could bear it
any longer or as if it could ever be light again. But when you
come and read those words to me, then I am comforted and my heart
rejoices once more."

Then she let the child go, and Heidi ran into the next room, and
bid Peter come quickly, for it had now grown quite dark. But
when they got outside they found the moon shining down on the
white snow and everything as clear as in the daylight. Peter got
his sleigh, put Heidi at the back, he himself sitting in front to
guide, and down the mountain they shot like two birds darting
through the air.

When Heidi was lying that night on her high bed of hay she
thought of the grandmother on her low pillow, and of all she had
said about the light and comfort that awoke in her when she
heard the hymns, and she thought: if I could read to her every
day, then I should go on making her better. But she knew that it
would be a week, if not two, before she would be able to go up
the mountain again. This was a thought of great trouble to Heidi,
and she tried hard to think of some way which would enable the
grandmother to hear the words she loved every day. Suddenly an
idea struck her, and she was so delighted with it that she could
hardly bear to wait for morning, so eager was she to begin
carrying out her plan. All at once she sat upright in her bed,
for she had been so busy with her thoughts that she had
forgotten to say her prayers, and she never now finished her day
without saying them.

When she had prayed with all her heart for herself, her
grandfather and grandmother, she lay back again on the warm soft
hay and slept soundly and peacefully till morning broke.

CHAPTER XIX. THE WINTER CONTINUES

Peter arrived punctually at school the following day. He had
brought his dinner with him, for all the children who lived at a
distance regularly seated themselves at mid-day on the tables,
and resting their feet firmly on the benches, spread out their
meal on their knees and so ate their dinner, while those living
in Dorfli went home for theirs. Till one o'clock they might all
do as they liked, and then school began again. When Peter had
finished his lessons on the days he attended school, he went
over to Uncle's to see Heidi.

When he walked into the large room at Uncle's to-day, Heidi
immediately rushed forward and took hold of him, for it was for
Peter she had been waiting. "I've thought of something, Peter,"
she said hastily.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You must learn to read," she informed him.

"I have learnt," was the answer.

"Yes, yes, but I mean so that you can really make use of it,"
continued Heidi eagerly.

"I never shall," was the prompt reply.

"Nobody believes that you cannot learn, nor I either now," said
Heidi in a very decided tone of voice. "Grandmamma in Frankfurt
said long ago that it was not true, and she told me not to
believe you."

Peter looked rather taken aback at this piece of intelligence.

"I will soon teach you to read, for I know how," continued
Heidi. "You must learn at once, and then you can read one or two
hymns every day to grandmother."

"Oh, I don't care about that," he grumbled in reply.

This hard-hearted way of refusing to agree to what was right and
kind, and to what Heidi had so much at heart, aroused her anger.
With flashing eyes she stood facing the boy and said
threateningly, "If you won't learn as I want you to, I will tell
you what will happen; you know your mother has often spoken of
sending you to Frankfurt, that you may learn a lot of things,
and I know where the boys there have to go to school; Clara
pointed out the great house to me when we were driving together.
And they don't only go when they are boys, but have more lessons
still when they are grown men. I have seen them myself, and you
mustn't think they have only one kind teacher like we have. There
are ever so many of them, all in the school at the same time, and
they are all dressed in black, as if they were going to church,
and have black hats on their heads as high as that--" and Heidi
held out her hand to show their height from the floor.

Peter felt a cold shudder run down his back.

"And you will have to go in among all those gentlemen,"
continued Heidi with increasing animation, "and when it comes to
your turn you won't be able to read and will make mistakes in
your spelling. Then you'll see how they'll make fun of you; even
worse than Tinette, and you ought to have seen what she was like
when she was scornful."

"Well, I'll learn then," said Peter, half sorrowfully and half
angrily.

Heidi was instantly mollified. "That's right, then we'll begin
at once," she said cheerfully, and went busily to work on the
spot, dragging Peter to the table and fetching her books.

Among other presents Clara had sent Heidi a book which the
latter had decided, in bed the night before, would serve
capitally for teaching Peter, for it was an A B C book with
rhyming lines. And now the two sat together at the table with
their heads bent over the book, for the lesson had begun.

Peter was made to spell out the first sentence two or three
times over, for Heidi wished him to get it correct and fluent. At
last she said, "You don't seem able to get it right, but I will
read it aloud to you once; when you know what it ought to be you
will find it easier." And she read out:--

A B C must be learnt to-day
Or the judge will call you up to pay.

"I shan't go," said Peter obstinately.

"Go where?" asked Heidi.

"Before the judge," he answered.

"Well then make haste and learn these three letters, then you
won't have to go."

Peter went at his task again and repeated the three letters so
many times and with such determination that she said at last,--

"You must know those three now."

Seeing what an effect the first two lines of verse had had upon
him, she thought she would prepare the ground a little for the
following lessons.

"Wait, and I will read you some of the next sentences," she
continued, "then you will see what else there is to expect."

And she began in a clear slow voice:--

D E F G must run with ease
Or something will follow that does not please.

Should H I J K be now forgot
Disgrace is yours upon the spot.

And then L M must follow at once
Or punished you'll be for a sorry dunce.

If you knew what next awaited you
You'd haste to learn N O P Q.

Now R S T be quick about
Or worse will follow there's little doubt.

Heidi paused, for Peter was so quiet that she looked to see what
he was doing. These many secret threats and hints of dreadful
punishments had so affected him that he sat as if petrified and
stared at Heidi with horror-stricken eyes. Her kind heart was
moved at once, and she said, wishing to reassure him, "You need
not be afraid, Peter; come here to me every evening, and if you
learn as you have to-day you will at last know all your letters,
and the other things won't come. But you must come regularly,
not now and then as you do to school; even if it snows it won't
hurt you."

Peter promised, for the trepidation he had been in had made him
quite tame and docile. Lessons being finished for this day he
now went home.

Peter obeyed Heidi's instructions punctually, and every evening
went diligently to work to learn the following letters, taking
the sentences thoroughly to heart. The grandfather was
frequently in the room smoking his pipe comfortably while the
lesson was going on, and his face twitched occasionally as if he
was overtaken with a sudden fit of merriment. Peter was often
invited to stay to supper after the great exertion he had gone
through, which richly compensated him for the anguish of mind he
had suffered with the sentence for the day.

So the winter went by, and Peter really made progress with his
letters; but he went through a terrible fight each day with the
sentences.

He had got at last to U. Heidi read out:--

And if you put the U for V,
You'll go where you would not like to be.

Peter growled, "Yes, but I shan't go!" But he was very diligent
that day, as if under the impression that some one would seize
him suddenly by the collar and drag him where he would rather
not go. The next evening Heidi read:--

If you falter at W, worst of all,
Look at the stick against the wall.

Peter looked at the wall and said scornfully, "There isn't one."

"Yes, but do you know what grandfather has in his box?" asked
Heidi. "A stick as thick almost as your arm, and if he took that
out, you might well say, look at the stick on the wall."

Peter knew that thick hazel stick, and immediately bent his head
over the W and struggled to master it. Another day the lines ran:--

Then comes the X for you to say
Or be sure you'll get no food to-day.

Peter looked towards the cupboard where the bread and cheese
were kept and said crossly, "I never said that I should forget
the X."

"That's all right; if you don't forget it we can go on to learn
the next, and then you will only have one more," replied Heidi,
anxious to encourage him.

Peter did not quite understand, but when Heidi went on and read:--

And should you make a stop at Y,
They'll point at you and cry, Fie, fie.

All the gentlemen in Frankfurt with tall black hats on their
heads, and scorn and mockery in their faces rose up before his
mind's eye, and he threw himself with energy on the Y, not
letting it go till at last he knew it so thoroughly that he
could see what it was like even when he shut his eyes.

He arrived on the following day in a somewhat lofty frame of
mind, for there was now only one letter to struggle over, and
when Heidi began the lesson with reading aloud:--

Make haste with Z, if you're too slow
Off to the Hottentots you'll go.

Peter remarked scornfully, "I dare say, when no one knows even
where such people live."

"I assure you, Peter," replied Heidi, "grandfather knows all
about them. Wait a second and I will run and ask him, for he is
only over the way with the pastor." And she rose and ran to the
door to put her words into action, but Peter cried out in a
voice of agony,--

"Stop!" for he already saw himself being carried off by Alm-
Uncle and the pastor and sent straight away to the Hottentots,
since as yet he did not know his last letter. His cry of fear
brought Heidi back.

"What is the matter?" she asked in astonishment.

"Nothing! come back! I am going to learn my letter," he said,
stammering with fear. Heidi, however, herself wished to know
where the Hottentots lived and persisted that she should ask her
grandfather, but she gave in at last to Peter's despairing
entreaties. She insisted on his doing something in return, and
so not only had he to repeat his Z until it was so fixed in his
memory that he could never forget it again, but she began
teaching him to spell, and Peter really made a good start that
evening. So it went on from day to day.

The frost had gone and the snow was soft again, and moreover
fresh snow continually fell, so that it was quite three weeks
before Heidi could go to the grandmother again. So much the more
eagerly did she pursue her teaching so that Peter might
compensate for her absence by reading hymns to the old woman.
One evening he walked in home after leaving Heidi, and as he
entered he said, "I can do it now."

"Do what, Peter?" asked his mother.

"Read," he answered.

"Do you really mean it? Did you hear that, grandmother?" she
called out.

The grandmother had heard, and was already wondering how such a
thing could have come to pass.

"I must read one of the hymns now; Heidi told me to," he went on
to inform them. His mother hastily fetched the book, and the
grandmother lay in joyful expectation, for it was so long since
she had heard the good words. Peter sat down to the table and
began to read. His mother sat beside him listening with surprise
and exclaiming at the close of each verse, "Who would have
thought it possible!"

The grandmother did not speak though she followed the words he
read with strained attention.

It happened on the day following this that there was a reading
lesson in Peter's class. When it came to his turn, the teacher
said,--

"We must pass over Peter as usual, or will you try again once
more--I will not say to read, but to stammer through a
sentence."

Peter took the book and read off three lines without the
slightest hesitation.

The teacher put down his book and stared at Peter as at some out-
of-the-way and marvellous thing unseen before. At last he spoke,--

"Peter, some miracle has been performed upon you! Here have I
been striving with unheard-of patience to teach you and you have
not hitherto been able to say your letters even. And now, just
as I had made up my mind not to waste any more trouble upon you,
you suddenly are able to read a consecutive sentence properly and
distinctly. How has such a miracle come to pass in our days?"

"It was Heidi," answered Peter.

The teacher looked in astonishment towards Heidi, who was
sitting innocently on her bench with no appearance of anything
supernatural about her. He continued, "I have noticed a change
in you altogether, Peter. Whereas formerly you often missed
coming to school for a week, or even weeks at a time, you have
lately not stayed away a single day. Who has wrought this change
for good in you?"

"It was Uncle," answered Peter.

With increasing surprise the teacher looked from Peter to Heidi
and back again at Peter.

"We will try once more," he said cautiously, and Peter had again
to show off his accomplishment by reading another three lines.
There was no mistake about it--Peter could read. As soon as
school was over the teacher went over to the pastor to tell him
this piece of news, and to inform him of the happy result of
Heidi's and the grandfather's combined efforts.

Every evening Peter read one hymn aloud; so far he obeyed Heidi.
Nothing would induce him to read a second, and indeed the
grandmother never asked for it. His mother Brigitta could not
get over her surprise at her son's attainment, and when the
reader was in bed would often express her pleasure at it. "Now he
has learnt to read there is no knowing what may be made of him
yet."

On one of these occasions the grandmother answered, "Yes, it is
good for him to have learnt something, but I shall indeed be
thankful when spring is here again and Heidi can come; they are
not like the same hymns when Peter reads them. So many words
seem missing, and I try to think what they ought to be and then I
lose the sense, and so the hymns do not come home to my heart as
when Heidi reads them."

The truth was that Peter arranged to make his reading as little
troublesome for himself as possible. When he came upon a word
that he thought was too long or difficult in any other way, he
left it out, for he decided that a word or two less in a verse,
where there were so many of them, could make no difference to
his grandmother. And so it came about that most of the principal
words were missing in the hymns that Peter read aloud.

CHAPTER XX. NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS

It was the month of May. From every height the full fresh
streams of spring were flowing down into the valley. The clear
warm sunshine lay upon the mountain, which had turned green
again. The last snows had disappeared and the sun had already
coaxed many of the flowers to show their bright heads above the
grass. Up above the gay young wind of spring was singing through
the fir trees, and shaking down the old dark needles to make room
for the new bright green ones that were soon to deck out the
trees in their spring finery. Higher up still the great bird went
circling round in the blue ether as of old, while the golden
sunshine lit up the grandfather's hut, and all the ground about
it was warm and dry again so that one might sit out where one
liked. Heidi was at home again on the mountain, running backwards
and forwards in her accustomed way, not knowing which spot was
most delightful. Now she stood still to listen to the deep,
mysterious voice of the wind, as it blew down to her from the
mountain summits, coming nearer and nearer and gathering strength
as it came, till it broke with force against the fir trees,
bending and shaking them, and seeming to shout for joy, so that
she too, though blown about like a feather, felt she must join in
the chorus of exulting sounds. Then she would run round again to
the sunny space in front of the hut, and seating herself on the
ground would peer closely into the short grass to see how many
little flower cups were open or thinking of opening. She rejoiced
with all the myriad little beetles and winged insects that jumped
and crawled and danced in the sun, and drew in deep draughts of
the spring scents that rose from the newly-awakened earth, and
thought the mountain was more beautiful than ever. All the tiny
living creatures must be as happy as she, for it seemed to her
there were little voices all round her singing and humming in
joyful tones, "On the mountain! on the mountain!"

From the shed at the back came the sound of sawing and chopping,
and Heidi listened to it with pleasure, for it was the old
familiar sound she had known from the beginning of her life up
here. Suddenly she jumped up and ran round, for she must know
what her grandfather was doing. In front of the shed door
already stood a finished new chair, and a second was in course of
construction under the grandfather's skilful hand.

"Oh, I know what these are for," exclaimed Heidi in great glee.
"We shall want them when they all come from Frankfurt. This one
is for Grandmamma, and the one you are now making is for Clara,
and then--then, there will, I suppose, have to be another,"
continued Heidi with more hesitation in her voice, "or do you
think, grandfather, that perhaps Fraulein Rottenmeier will not
come with them?"

"Well, I cannot say just yet," replied her grandfather, "but it
will be safer to make one so that we can offer her a seat if she
does."

Heidi looked thoughtfully at the plain wooden chair without arms
as if trying to imagine how Fraulein Rottenmeier and a chair of
this sort would suit one another. After a few minutes'
contemplation, "Grandfather," she said, shaking her head
doubtfully, "I don't think she would be able to sit on that."

"Then we will invite her on the couch with the beautiful green
turf feather-bed," was her grandfather's quiet rejoinder.

While Heidi was pausing to consider what this might be there
approached from above a whistling, calling, and other sounds
which Heidi immediately recognised. She ran out and found
herself surrounded by her four-footed friends. They were
apparently as pleased as she was to be among the heights again,
for they leaped about and bleated for joy, pushing Heidi this way
and that, each anxious to express his delight with some sign of
affection. But Peter sent them flying to right and left, for he
had something to give to Heidi. When he at last got up to her he
handed her a letter.

"There!" he exclaimed, leaving the further explanation of the
matter to Heidi herself.

"Did some one give you this while you were out with the goats,"
she asked, in her surprise.

"No," was the answer.

"Where did you get it from then?

"I found it in the dinner bag."

Which was true to a certain extent. The letter to Heidi had been
given him the evening before by the postman at Dorfli, and Peter
had put it into his empty bag. That morning he had stuffed his
bread and cheese on the top of it, and had forgotten it when he
fetched Alm-Uncle's two goats; only when he had finished his
bread and cheese at mid-day and was searching in the bag for any
last crumbs did he remember the letter which lay at the bottom.

Heidi read the address carefully; then she ran back to the shed
holding out her letter to her grandfather in high glee. "From
Frankfurt! from Clara! Would you like to hear it?"

The grandfather was ready and pleased to do so, as also Peter,
who had followed Heidi into the shed. He leant his back against
the door post, as he felt he could follow Heidi's reading better
if firmly supported from behind, and so stood prepared to
listen.

"Dearest Heidi,-- Everything is packed and we shall start now in
two or three days, as soon as papa himself is ready to leave; he
is not coming with us as he has first to go to Paris. The doctor
comes every day, and as soon as he is inside the door, he cries,
'Off now as quickly as you can, off to the mountain.' He is most
impatient about our going. You cannot think how much he enjoyed
himself when he was with you! He has called nearly every day
this winter, and each time he has come in to my room and said he
must tell me about everything again. And then he sits down and
describes all he did with you and the grandfather, and talks of
the mountains and the flowers and of the great silence up there
far above all towns and the villages, and of the fresh delicious
air, and often adds, 'No one can help getting well up there.' He
himself is quite a different man since his visit, and looks
quite young again and happy, which he had not been for a long
time before. Oh, how I am looking forward to seeing everything
and to being with you on the mountain, and to making the
acquaintance of Peter and the goats.

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