Heidi
Grandmamma had to consider a moment what he meant, but soon recalled
his connection with her telegram, and answered kindly,--
"You are a good boy to tell me! Never conceal anything you have done
wrong, and then all will come right again. And now what would you like
me to give you?"
Peter grew almost giddy with the thought that he could have anything
in the world that he wished for. He had a vision of the yearly fair at
Mayenfeld with the glittering booths and all the lovely things that
he had stood gazing at for hours, without a hope of ever possessing
one of them, for Peter's purse never held more than five cents, and
all these fascinating objects cost double that amount. There were the
pretty little red whistles that he could use to call his goats, and
the splendid knives with rounded handles, known as toad-strikers, with
which one could do such fine whittling.
Peter remained pondering; he was trying to think which of these
two desirable objects he should best like to have, and he found it
difficult to decide. Then a bright thought occurred to him; he would
then be able to think over the matter between now and next year's fair.
"A dime," answered Peter, who was no longer in doubt.
Grandmamma could not help laughing. "That is not an extravagant
request. Come here then!" and she pulled out her purse and put four
bright silver dollars in his hand and then laid some dimes on the top
of them. "We will settle our accounts at once," she continued, "and I
will explain them to you. I have given you as many dimes as there are
weeks in the year, and so every Sunday throughout the year you can take
out a dime to spend."
"As long as I live?" said Peter quite innocently.
Grandmamma laughed more still at this, and the men hearing her, paused
in their talk to listen to what was going on.
"Yes, boy, you shall have it all your life--I will put it down in my
will. Do you hear, my son? and you are to put it down in yours as well:
a dime a week to Peter as long as he lives."
Mr. Sesemann nodded his assent and joined in the laughter.
Peter looked again at the present in his hand to make sure he was not
dreaming, and then said, "Thank God!"
And he went off running and leaping with more even than his usual
agility, and this time managed to keep his feet, for it was not fear,
but joy such as he had never known before in his life, that now sent
him flying up the mountain. All trouble and trembling had disappeared,
and he was to have a dime every week for life.
Later, after dinner, when the party were sitting together chatting,
Clara drew her father a little aside, and said with an eagerness that
had been unknown to the little, tired invalid,--
"O papa, if you only knew all that grandfather has done for me from day
to day! I cannot reckon his kindnesses, but I shall never forget them
as long as I live! And I keep on thinking what I could do for him, or
what present I could make him that would give him half as much pleasure
as he has given me."
"That is just what I wish most myself, Clara," replied her father,
whose face grew happier each time he looked at his little daughter. "I
have been also thinking how we can best show our gratitude to our good
benefactor."
Mr. Sesemann went over to Uncle and taking him by the hand said,--
"Dear friend, you will believe me when I tell you that I have known no
real happiness for years past. What good were money and property to me
when they were unable to make my poor child well and happy? With the
help of God you have made her whole and strong, and you have given new
life not only to her but to me. Tell me now, in what way can I show my
gratitude to you? I can never repay all you have done, but whatever is
in my power to do is at your service. Speak, friend, and tell me what I
can do?"
Uncle had listened to him quietly, with a smile of pleasure on his face
as he looked at the happy father.
"Mr. Sesemann," he replied in his dignified way, "I too have my share
in the joy of your daughter's recovery, and my trouble is well repaid
by it. I thank you heartily for all you have said, but I have need of
nothing; I have enough for myself and the child as long as I live. Of
course, I am growing old, and shall not be here much longer. I have
nothing to leave the child when I die. If you could promise me that
Heidi will never have to earn her living among strangers, then you
would richly reward me for all I have done for your child."
"There could never be any question of such a thing as that, my dear
friend," said Mr. Sesemann quickly. "I look upon the child as my own.
Ask my mother, my daughter; you may be sure that they will never allow
the child to be left in any one else's care! But if it will make you
happier I give you here my hand upon it. I promise you: Heidi shall
never have to go and earn her living among strangers; I will make
provision against this both during my life and after. But now I have
something else to say. Independent of her circumstances, the child
is totally unfitted to live a life away from home; we found that out
when she was with us. But she has made friends, and among them I know
one who is at this moment in Frankfurt; he is winding up his affairs
there, that he may be free to go where he likes and take his rest. I
am speaking of my friend, the doctor, who came over here in the autumn
and who, having well considered your advice, intends to settle in this
neighborhood, for he has never felt so well and happy anywhere as in
the company of you and Heidi. So you see the child will henceforth have
two protectors near her--and may they both live long to share the task!"
"God grant indeed it may be so!" added grandmamma, shaking Uncle's hand
warmly as she spoke, to show how sincerely she echoed her son's wish.
Then putting her arm round Heidi, who was standing near, she drew the
child to her.
"And I have a question to ask you too, dear Heidi. Tell me if there is
anything you particularly wish for?"
"Yes, there is," answered Heidi promptly, looking up delightedly at
grandmamma.
"Then tell me at once, dear, what it is."
"I want to have the bed I slept in at Frankfurt with the high pillows
and thick coverlid, and then grandmother will not have to lie with her
head down hill and hardly able to breathe, and she will be warm enough
under the coverlid not to have to wear her shawl in bed to prevent her
freezing to death."
In her eagerness to obtain what she had set her heart upon Heidi hardly
gave herself time to get out all she had to say, and did not pause for
breath till she reached the end of her sentence.
"Dearest child," answered grandmamma, moved by Heidi's speech, "what
is this you tell me of grandmother! You are right to remind me. In the
midst of our own happiness we forget too often that which we ought to
remember before all things. When God has shown us some special mercy
we should think at once of those who are denied so many things. I will
telegraph to Frankfurt at once! Miss Rottermeyer shall pack up the bed
this very day, and it will be here in two days' time. God willing,
grandmother shall soon be sleeping comfortably upon it."
Heidi skipped round grandmamma in her glee, and then stopping all of a
sudden, said quickly, "I must make haste down and tell her."
"No, no, Heidi, what can you be thinking of," said her grandfather
reprovingly. "You can't be running backwards and forwards like that
when you have visitors."
But grandmamma interfered on Heidi's behalf. "The child is not so
far wrong, Uncle," she said, "and poor grandmother has too long been
deprived of Heidi for our sakes. Let us all go down to her together. I
believe my horse is waiting for me and I can ride down from there, and
as soon as I get to Doerfli the message shall be sent off. What do you
think of my plan, son?"
Mr. Sesemann had not yet had time to speak of his travelling plans, so
he begged his mother to wait a few moments that he might tell her what
he proposed doing.
Mr. Sesemann had been arranging that he and his mother should make a
little tour in Switzerland, first ascertaining if Clara was in a fit
state to go some part of the way with them. But now he would have the
full enjoyment of his daughter's company, and that being so he did
not want to miss any of these beautiful days of later summer, but to
start at once on the journey that he now looked forward to with such
additional pleasure. And so he proposed that they should spend the
night in Doerfli and that next day he should come and get Clara, then
they would all three go down to Ragatz and make that their starting
point.
Clara was rather upset at first at the thought of saying good-bye like
this to the mountain; she could not help being pleased, however, at the
prospect of another journey, and no time was allowed her to give way to
lamentation.
Grandmamma had already taken Heidi by the hand, preparatory to leading
the way, when she suddenly turned. "But what is to become of Clara?"
she asked, remembering all at once that the child could not yet take so
long a walk. She gave a nod of satisfaction as she saw that Uncle had
already taken Clara up in his arms and was following her with sturdy
strides. Mr. Sesemann brought up the rear, and so they all started down
the mountain.
Heidi kept jumping for joy as she and Mrs. Sesemann walked along side
by side, and grandmamma asked all about Peter's grandmother, how she
lived, and what she did, especially in the winter when it was so cold.
And Heidi gave her a minute account of everything, for she knew all
that went on at grandmother's, and told her how the old woman sat
crouching in her corner and trembling with cold. She was able also
to give her exact particulars of what grandmother had and had not to
eat. Grandmamma listened with interest and sympathy until they came
to grandmother's. Brigitta was just hanging out Peter's second shirt
in the sun, so that he might have it ready to put on when he had worn
the other long enough. As soon as she saw the company approaching she
rushed indoors.
"The whole party of them are just going past, mother, evidently all
returning home again," she informed the old woman. "Uncle is with them,
carrying the sick child."
"Alas, it is really to be so then?" sighed the grandmother. "And you
saw Heidi with them? Then they are taking her away. If only she could
come and put her hand in mine again! If I could but hear her voice once
more!"
At this moment the door flew open and Heidi sprang across to the corner
and threw her arms round grandmother.
"Grandmother! Grandmother! my bed is to be sent from Frankfurt with all
the three pillows and the thick coverlid; grandmamma says it will be
here in two days." Heidi could not get out her words quickly enough,
for she was impatient to see grandmother's great joy at the news. The
latter smiled, but said a little sadly,--
"She must indeed be a good, kind lady, and I ought to be glad to think
she is taking you with her, but I shall not outlive it long."
"What is this I hear? Who has been telling my good grandmother such
tales?" exclaimed a kindly voice, and grandmother felt her hand taken
and warmly pressed, for grandmamma had followed Heidi in and heard all
that was said. "No, no, there is no thought of such a thing! Heidi is
going to stay with you and make you happy. We want to see her again,
but we shall come to her. We hope to pay a visit to the Alm every year,
for we have good cause to offer up especial thanks to God upon this
spot where so great a miracle has been wrought upon our child."
Then grandmother's face was lighted up with genuine happiness, and she
pressed Mrs. Sesemann's hand over and over again, unable to speak her