Heidi
everything she could find in the cupboard. The grandfather meanwhile
had been preparing the meal, and now appeared with a steaming jug of
milk and golden-brown toasted cheese. Then he cut some thin slices from
the meat he had cured himself in the pure air, and the doctor enjoyed
his dinner better than he had for a whole year past.
"Our Clara must certainly come up here," he said, "it would make her
quite a different person, and if she could eat for any length of time
as I have today, she would grow plumper than any one has ever known her
before."
As he spoke a man was seen coming up the path carrying a large package
on his back. When he reached the hut he threw it on the ground and drew
in two or three good breaths of the mountain air.
"Ah, here's what travelled with me from Frankfurt," said the doctor,
rising, and he went up to the package and began undoing it, Heidi
looking on in great expectation. After he had released it from its
heavy outer covering, "There, child," he said, "now you can go on
unpacking your treasures yourself."
Heidi undid her presents one by one until they were all displayed; she
could not speak for wonder and delight. Not till the doctor opened the
large box to show Heidi the cakes that were for the grandmother to
eat with her coffee, did she at last give a cry of joy, exclaiming,
"Now grandmother will have nice things to eat," and she wanted to pack
everything up again and start at once to give them to her. But the
grandfather said he should walk down with the doctor that evening and
she could go with them and take the things. Heidi next found the packet
of tobacco which she ran and gave to her grandfather; he was so pleased
with it that he immediately filled his pipe with some, and the two men
then sat down together again, the smoke curling up from their pipes as
they talked of all kinds of things, while Heidi continued to examine
first one and then another of her presents. Suddenly she ran up to
them, and standing in front of the doctor waited till there was a pause
in the conversation, and then said, "No, the presents have not given me
more pleasure than seeing you, doctor."
The two men could not help laughing, and the doctor answered that he
should never have thought it.
As the sun began to sink behind the mountains the doctor rose, thinking
it time to return to Doerfli and seek for quarters. The grandfather
carried the cakes and the shawl and the large sausage, and the doctor
took Heidi's hand, as they all three started down the mountain. Arrived
at Peter's home Heidi bid the others good-bye; she was to wait at
grandmother's till her grandfather, who was going on to Doerfli with
his guest, returned for her. As the doctor shook hands with her she
asked, "Would you like to come out with the goats tomorrow morning?"
for she could think of no greater treat to offer him.
"Agreed!" answered the doctor, "we will go together."
Heidi now ran in to the grandmother: she first, with some effort,
managed to carry in the box of cakes; then she ran out again and
brought in the sausage--for her grandfather had put the presents down
by the door--and then a third time for the shawl. She placed them as
close as she could to the grandmother, so that the latter might be able
to feel them and understand what was there. The shawl she laid over the
old woman's knees.
"They are all from Frankfurt, from Clara and grandmamma," she explained
to the astonished grandmother and Brigitta, the latter having watched
her dragging in all the heavy things unable to imagine what was
happening.
"And you are very pleased with the cakes, aren't you, Grandmother?
taste how soft they are!" said Heidi over and over again, to which the
grandmother continued to answer, "Yes, yes, Heidi, I should think so!
what kind people they must be!" And then she would pass her hand over
the warm, thick shawl and add, "This will be beautiful for the cold
winter! I never thought I should ever have such a splendid thing as
this to put on."
Heidi could not help feeling some surprise at the grandmother seeming
to take more pleasure in the shawl than the cakes. Meanwhile Brigitta
stood gazing at the sausage with almost an expression of awe. She had
hardly in her life seen such a monster sausage, much less owned one,
and she could scarcely believe her eyes.
Peter came tumbling in at this minute. "Uncle is just behind me, he
is coming--" he began, and then stopped short, for his eye had caught
sight of the sausage, and he was too much taken aback to say more. But
Heidi understood that her grandfather was near and so said good-bye
to grandmother. The old man now never passed the door without going
in to wish the old woman good-day, and she liked to hear his footstep
approaching, for he always had a cheery word for her. But today it
was growing late for Heidi, who was always up with the lark, and the
grandfather would never let her go to bed after hours; so this evening
he only called good-night through the open door and started home at
once with the child, and the two climbed under the starlit sky back to
their peaceful dwelling.
CHAPTER XVII
EXCURSIONS OVER THE MOUNTAINS
The next morning the doctor climbed up from Doerfli with Peter and the
goats. At the hut, they found Heidi awaiting them with her two goats,
all three as fresh and lively as the morning sun among the mountains.
"Are you coming today?" said Peter, repeating the words with which he
daily greeted her.
"Of course I am, if the doctor is coming too," replied Heidi.
Peter cast a sidelong glance at the doctor. The grandfather now came
out with the dinner bag, and after bidding good-day to the doctor he
went up to Peter and slung it over his neck. It was heavier than usual,
for Alm-Uncle had added some meat today, as he thought the doctor might
like to have his lunch out of doors with the children. Peter gave a
grin, for he felt sure there was something extra good in it.
And so the ascent began. The goats as usual came thronging round Heidi,
each trying to be nearest her, until at last she stood still and
said, "Now you must go on in front and behave properly, and not keep
on turning back and pushing and poking me, for I want to talk to the
doctor." By degrees she managed to make her way out from among them and
joined the doctor, who took her by the hand. Heidi had a great deal
to say about the goats and their peculiarities, and about the flowers
and the rocks and the birds, and so they clambered on and reached
their resting-place before they were aware. Peter had sent a good many
unfriendly glances towards the doctor on the way up, which might have
quite alarmed the latter if he had happened to notice them, which,
fortunately, he did not.
Heidi led her friend to her favorite spot where she was accustomed to
sit and enjoy the beauty around her; the doctor followed her example
and took his seat beside her on the warm grass. The great snowfield
sparkled in the bright sunlight, on the rocky peaks. A soft, light
morning breeze blew deliciously across the mountain, gently stirring
the bluebells that still remained of the summer's wealth of flowers,
their slender heads nodding cheerfully in the sunshine. Overhead the
great bird was flying round and round in wide circles. Heidi looked
about her first at one thing and then at another. Her eyes were alight
with joy. She turned to her friend to see if he too were enjoying the
beauty. The doctor had been sitting thoughtfully gazing around him. As
he met her glad bright eyes, "Yes, Heidi," he responded, "I see how
lovely it all is, but tell me--if one brings a sad heart up here, how
may it be healed so that it can rejoice in all this beauty?"
"But no one is sad up here, only in Frankfurt," exclaimed Heidi.
The doctor smiled, and then growing serious again he continued, "But
supposing one is not able to leave all the sadness behind at Frankfurt;
can you tell me anything that will help then?"
"When you do not know what more to do you must go and tell everything
to God," answered Heidi with decision.
"Ah, that is a good thought of yours, Heidi," said the doctor. "But
if it is God Himself who has sent the trouble, what can we say to Him
then?"
Heidi sat pondering for a while; she was sure in her heart that God
could help out of every trouble. She thought over her own experiences
and then found her answer.
"Then you must wait," she said, "and keep on saying to yourself: God
certainly knows of some happiness for us which He is going to bring out
of the trouble, only we must have patience and not run away."
"That is a beautiful faith, child, and be sure you hold it fast,"
replied the doctor. "But can you understand, Heidi, that a man may sit
here with such a shadow over his eyes that he cannot feel and enjoy
the beauty around him, while the heart grows doubly sad knowing how
beautiful it could be. Can you understand that?"
A pain shot through the child's young, happy heart. The shadow over the
eyes brought to her remembrance the grandmother, who would never again
be able to see the sunlight and the beauty up here. This was Heidi's
great sorrow, which reawoke each time she thought about the darkness.
"Yes, I can understand it. And I know this, that then one must say one
of grandmother's hymns, which bring the light back a little, and often
make it so bright for her that she is quite happy again. Grandmother
herself told me this."
"Which hymns are they, Heidi?" asked the doctor.
"I only know the one about the sun and the beautiful garden, and some
of the verses of the long one, which are favorites with her, and she
always likes me to read them to her two or three times over," replied
Heidi.
"Well, say the verses to me then, I should like to hear them too," said
the doctor.
Heidi collected her thoughts for a second or two and began,--
Let not your heart be troubled
Nor fear your soul dismay,
There is a wise Defender
And He will be your stay.
Where you have failed, He conquers,
See, how the foeman flies!
And all your tribulation
Is turned to glad surprise.
If for a while it seemeth
His mercy is withdrawn,
That He no longer careth
For His wandering child forlorn,
Doubt not His great compassion,
His love can never tire,
To those who wait in patience
He gives their heart's desire.
Suddenly she paused; she was not sure if the doctor was still
listening. He was sitting motionless with his hand before his eyes. His
thoughts had carried him back to a long past time: he saw himself as a
little boy standing by his dear mother's chair; she had her arm round
his neck and was saying the very verses to him that Heidi had just
recited--words which he had not heard now for years. He could hear his
mother's voice and see her loving eyes resting upon him, and as Heidi
ceased the old dear voice seemed to be saying other things to him; and
the words he heard again must have carried him far, far away, for it
was a long time before he stirred or took his hand from his eyes. When
at last he roused himself he met Heidi's eyes looking wonderingly at
him.
"Heidi," he said, taking the child's hand in his, "that was a beautiful
hymn of yours," and there was a happier ring in his voice as he spoke.
"We will come out here together another day, and you will let me hear
it again."
Peter meanwhile had been giving vent to his anger. It was now some
days since Heidi had been out with him, and when at last she did come
there she sat the whole time beside the old gentleman, and Peter could
not get a word with her. He got into a terrible temper, and at last
went and stood some way back behind the doctor, where the latter could
not see him, and doubling his fist made imaginary hits at the enemy.