Heidi
snow, and the snow is still falling; the sturdy Peter can hardly get
along. A little creature like you would soon be smothered by it, and we
should not be able to find you again. Wait a bit till it freezes, then
you will be able to walk over the hard snow."
Heidi now went to school in Doerfli and eagerly set to work to learn
all that was taught her. She hardly ever saw Peter there, for as a rule
he was absent. The teacher was an easy-going man who merely remarked
now and then, "Peter is not turning up today again, it seems, but there
is a lot of snow up on the mountain and I daresay he cannot get along."
Peter, however, always seemed able to make his way through the snow in
the evening when school was over, and he then generally paid Heidi a
visit.
At last, after some days, when Peter climbed out of his window one
morning--the door was quite blocked by the snow outside--he was taken
by surprise, for instead of sinking into the snow he fell on the hard
ground and went sliding some way down the mountain side like a sleigh,
before he could stop himself. He picked himself up and tested the
hardness of the ground by stamping on it and trying with all his might
to dig his heels into it, but even then he could not break off a single
little splinter of ice; the Alm was frozen hard as iron. This was just
what Peter had been hoping for, as he knew now that Heidi would be able
to come up to see them. He quickly got back into the house, swallowed
the milk which his mother had ready for him, thrust a piece of bread in
his pocket, and said, "I must be off to school," and in another minute
was shooting down the mountain on his sled.
He went like lightning, and when he reached Doerfli, which stood on the
direct road to Mayenfeld, he made up his mind to go on further. So down
he still went till he reached the level ground, where the sled came to
a pause of its own accord, some little way beyond Mayenfeld. He knew it
was too late to get to school now, as lessons would already have begun,
and it would take him a good hour to walk back to Doerfli. So he took
his time about returning, and reached Doerfli just as Heidi had got
home from school and was sitting at dinner with her grandfather. Peter
walked in, exclaiming as he stood still in the middle of the room,
"She's got it now."
"Got it? what?" asked the Uncle. "Your words sound quite warlike,
general."
"The frost," explained Peter.
"Oh! now I can go and see grandmother!" said Heidi joyfully, for she
had understood Peter's words at once. "But why were you not at school
then? You could have come down on the sled," she added reproachfully,
for it did not agree with Heidi's ideas of good behavior to stay away
when it was possible to be there.
"It carried me on too far and I was too late," Peter replied.
"I call that being a deserter," said the Uncle, "and deserters get
their ears pulled, as you know."
Peter gave a tug to his cap in alarm, for there was no one of whom he
stood in so much awe as Alm-Uncle.
"And an army leader like yourself ought to be doubly ashamed of running
away," continued Alm-Uncle. "What would you think of your goats if one
went off this way and another that, and refused to follow and do what
was good for them? What would you do then?"
"I should beat them," said Peter promptly.
"And if a boy behaved like these unruly goats, and he got a beating for
it, what would you say then?"
"Serves him right," was the answer.
"Good, then understand this: next time you let your sled carry you past
the school when you ought to be inside at your lessons, come on to me
afterwards and receive what you deserve."
Peter understood the drift of the old man's questions and that he was
the boy who behaved like the unruly goats, and he looked somewhat
fearfully towards the corner to see if there happened to be a stick
around.
But now the grandfather suddenly said in a cheerful voice, "Come and
sit down and have something, and afterwards Heidi shall go with you.
Bring her back this evening and you will find supper waiting for you
here."
This unexpected turn of conversation set Peter grinning all over with
delight. He obeyed without hesitation and took his seat beside Heidi.
But the child could not eat in her excitement at the thought of going
to see grandmother. She ran to the cupboard and brought out the warm
cloak Clara had sent her; with this on and the hood drawn over her
head, she was all ready for her journey. She stood waiting beside
Peter, and as soon as his last mouthful had disappeared she said, "Come
along now." As the two walked together Heidi had much to tell Peter of
her two goats that had been so unhappy the first day in their new stall
that they would not eat anything, but stood hanging their heads, not
even rousing themselves to bleat. And when she asked her grandfather
the reason of this, he told her it was the same with the goats as with
her in Frankfurt, for it was the first time in their lives they had
come down from the mountain. "And you don't know what that is, Peter,
unless you have felt it yourself," added Heidi.
When they reached their destination they found Brigitta sitting alone
knitting, for the grandmother was not very well and had to stay in bed
on account of the cold. Heidi had never before missed the old figure in
her place in the corner, and she ran quickly into the next room. There
lay grandmother on her little, poorly covered bed, wrapped up in her
warm grey shawl.
"Thank God," she exclaimed as Heidi came running in; the poor old woman
had had a secret fear at heart all through the autumn, especially if
Heidi was absent for any length of time, for Peter had told her of a
strange gentleman who had come from Frankfurt, and who had gone out
with them and always talked to Heidi, and she had felt sure he had come
to take her away again. Even when she heard he had gone off alone, she
still had an idea that a messenger would be sent over from Frankfurt to
take the child. Heidi went up to the side of the bed and said, "Are you
very ill, Grandmother?"
"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 today, but tomorrow I
am sure to be all right again."
Heidi noticed that the grandmother was wrapped up in her nice shawl and
exclaimed: "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. "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
today?"
Heidi ran into the next room to get the hymn book. Then she picked out
the favorite hymns one after another, for she knew them all by heart
now, and was 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."
A little later Heidi said, "It is growing dark and I must go; I am so
glad to think that you are quite well again."
She 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 sled, 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 the morning broke.
CHAPTER XIX
HEIDI TEACHES OBSTINATE PETER
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 Doerfli went home for theirs.
Till one o'clock they might all do as they liked, and then school began
again. As soon as Peter finished his lessons he went over to Uncle's to
see Heidi.
When he walked into the large room at Uncle's today, Heidi immediately
rushed forward and took hold of him and said: "I've thought of
something, Peter."
"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.