Heidi
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
A STRANGE LOOKING PROCESSION
It was the month of May. 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. Heidi was at home again on the mountain, running
backwards and forwards in her accustomed way, not knowing which spot
was most delightful.
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
Miss Rottermeyer 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."
While talking with the grandfather there was heard from above a
whistling and calling which Heidi immediately recognized. 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. When Peter at last got up to her
he handed her a letter.
"There!" he exclaimed.
"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 Doerfli, 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 called for 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 was Peter, who had
followed Heidi into the shed.
"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 describes
over again 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 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 happy again. 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.
"I shall have first to go through a six weeks' cure at Ragatz; this the
doctor has ordered, and then we shall move up to Doerfli, and every
fine day I shall be carried up the mountain in my chair and spend the
day with you. Grandmamma is traveling with me and will remain with
me; she also is delighted at the thought of paying you a visit. But
just imagine, Miss Rottermeyer refuses to come with us. Almost every
day grandmamma says to her, 'Well, how about this Swiss journey, my
worthy Rottermeyer? Pray say if you really would like to come with
us.' But she always thanks grandmamma very politely and says she has
quite made up her mind. I think I know what has done it: Sebastian gave
such a frightful description of the mountain, of how the rocks were
so overhanging and dangerous that at any minute you might fall into a
crevasse, and how it was such steep climbing that you feared at every
step to go slipping to the bottom, and that goats alone could make
their way up without fear of being killed. She shuddered when she heard
him tell of all this, and since then she has not been so enthusiastic
about Switzerland as she was before. Fear has also taken possession
of Tinette, and she also refuses to come. So grandmamma and I will be
alone; Sebastian will go with us as far as Ragatz and then return here.
"I can hardly bear waiting till I see you again. Good-bye, dearest
Heidi; grandmamma sends you her best love and all good wishes.--Your
affectionate friend, CLARA."
As soon as the letter had been read, Peter rushed out, twirling his
stick in the air in such a reckless fashion that the frightened goats
fled down the mountain before him with higher and wider leaps than
usual. He followed at full speed, his stick still raised in air in a
menacing manner as if he was longing to vent his fury on some invisible
foe. This foe was indeed the prospect of the arrival of the Frankfurt
visitors, the thought of whom filled him with exasperation.
Heidi was so full of joyful anticipation that she determined to seize
the first possible moment next day to go down and tell grandmother who
was coming, and also particularly who was not coming. The old lady
was no longer confined to her bed. She was back in her corner at her
spinning-wheel, but there was an expression on her face of mournful
anxiety. Peter had come in the evening before, brimful of anger and
had told about the large party who were coming up from Frankfurt, and
he did not know what other things might happen after that; and the old
woman had not slept all night, pursued by the old thought of Heidi
being taken from her.
Heidi ran in, and taking her little stool immediately sat down by
grandmother and began eagerly pouring out all her news, growing more
excited with her pleasure as she went on. But all of a sudden she
stopped short and said anxiously, "What is the matter, Grandmother,
aren't you a bit pleased with what I am telling you?"
"Yes, yes, of course, child, since it gives you so much pleasure," she
answered, trying to look more cheerful.
"But I can see all the same that something troubles you. Is it because
you think after all that Miss Rottermeyer may come?" asked Heidi,
beginning to feel anxious herself.
"No, no! it is nothing, child," said the grandmother, wishing to
reassure her. "Just give me your hand that I may feel sure you are
there. No doubt it would be the best thing for you, although I feel I
could scarcely survive it."
"I do not want anything of the best if you could scarcely survive it,"
said Heidi, in such a determined tone of voice that the grandmother's
fears increased as she felt sure the people from Frankfurt were coming
to take Heidi back with them, since now she was well again they
naturally wished to have her with them once more. But she was anxious
to hide her trouble from Heidi if possible, as the latter was so
sympathetic that she might refuse perhaps to go away, and that would
not be right.
"Heidi," she said, "there is something that would comfort me and calm
my thoughts; read me the hymn beginning: 'All things will work for
good.'"
Heidi found the place at once and read out in her clear, young voice:--
All things will work for good
To those who trust in Me;
I come with healing on my wings,
To save and set thee free.
"Yes, yes, that is just what I wanted to hear," said the grandmother,
and the deep expression of trouble passed from her face. Heidi looked
at her thoughtfully for a minute or two and then said, "healing means
that which cures everything and makes everybody well, doesn't it,
Grandmother?"
"Yes, that is it," replied the old woman with a nod of assent, "and
we may be sure everything will come to pass according to God's good
purpose."
When the evening came, Heidi returned home up the mountain. The stars
came out overhead one by one, so bright and sparkling that each seemed
to send a fresh ray of joy into her heart.
Not only were the nights of this month of May so clear and bright, but
the days as well; the sun rose every morning into the cloudless sky, as
undimmed in its splendor as when it sank the evening before, and the
grandfather would look out early and exclaim with astonishment, "This
is indeed a wonderful year of sun; it will make all the shrubs and
plants grow apace; you will have to see, General, that your army does
not get out of hand from overfeeding." And Peter would swing his stick
with an air of assurance and an expression on his face as much as to
say, "I'll see to that."
So May passed, everything growing greener and greener, and then came
the month of June, with a hotter sun and long, light days, that brought
the flowers out all over the mountain, so that every spot was bright
with them and the air full of their sweet scents. This month too was
drawing to its close when one day Heidi, having finished her household
duties, ran out with the intention of paying first a visit to the fir
trees, and then going up higher to see if the bush of rock roses was
yet in bloom, for its flowers were so lovely when standing open in the
sun. But just as she was turning the corner of the hut, she gave such a
loud cry that her grandfather came running out of the shed to see what
had happened.
"Grandfather, Grandfather!" she cried, beside herself with excitement.
"Come here! look! look!"
The old man was by her side by this time and looked in the direction of
her outstretched hand.
A strange-looking procession was making its way up the mountain;
in front were two men carrying a sedan chair, in which sat a girl
well wrapped up in shawls; then followed a horse, mounted by a
stately-looking lady who was looking about her with great interest and
talking to the guide who walked beside her; then a reclining chair,
which was being pushed up by another man, it having evidently been
thought safer to send the invalid to whom it belonged up the steep path
in a sedan chair. The procession wound up with a porter, with such a
bundle of cloaks, shawls, and furs on his back that it rose well above
his head.
"Here they come! here they come!" shouted Heidi, jumping with joy. And
sure enough it was the party from Frankfurt; the figures came nearer
and nearer, and at last they had actually arrived. The men in front put
down their burden, Heidi rushed forward and the two children embraced
each other with mutual delight. Grandmamma having also reached the top,
dismounted, and gave Heidi an affectionate greeting, before turning to
the grandfather, who had meanwhile come up to welcome his guests. There
was no constraint about the meeting, for they both knew each other
perfectly well from hearsay and felt like old acquaintances.
After the first words of greeting had been exchanged grandmamma broke
out into lively expressions of admiration. "What a magnificent
residence you have, Uncle! I could hardly have believed it was so