Heidi
J >>
Johanna Spyri >> Heidi
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 * * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| This document reproduces the text for the Gift Edition of |
| Heidi, if you would like to see the illustrations, margin |
| art, and decorations, the html version is recommended. |
| |
| Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has |
| been preserved. |
| |
| Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this |
| text. For a complete list, please see the end of this |
| document. |
| |
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
* * * * *
HEIDI
JOHANNA SPYRI
[Illustration: (Heidi)]
[Illustration: (Peter)]
HEIDI
GIFT EDITION
[Illustration: WAVING HER HAND AND LOOKING AFTER HER DEPARTING
FRIEND TILL HE SEEMED NO BIGGER THAN A LITTLE DOT
_Page 228_]
HEIDI
BY
JOHANNA SPYRI
TRANSLATED BY
ELISABETH P. STORK
_WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY_
CHARLES WHARTON STORK, A.M., PH.D.
_14 ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR BY_
MARIA L. KIRK
GIFT EDITION
PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON
J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1919
COPYRIGHT, 1915. BY J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
ADDITIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS AND DECORATIONS
COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
PRINTED BY J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS
PHILADELPHIA, U.S.A.
INTRODUCTION
Unassuming in plot and style, "Heidi" may none the less lay claim to
rank as a world classic. In the first place, both background and
characters ring true. The air of the Alps is wafted to us in every
page; the house among the pines, the meadows, and the eagle poised
above the naked rocks form a picture that no one could willingly
forget. And the people, from the kindly towns-folk to the quaint and
touching peasant types, are as real as any representation of human
nature need be. Every goat even, has its personality. As for the
little heroine, she is a blessing not only to everyone in the story,
but to everyone who reads it. The narrative merits of the book are too
apparent to call for comment.
As to the author, Johanna Spyri, she has so entirely lost herself in
her creation that we may pass over her career rather rapidly. She was
born in Switzerland in 1829, came of a literary family, and devoted
all her talent to the writing of books for and about children.
Since "Heidi" has been so often translated into English it may well be
asked why there is any need for a new version. The answer lies partly
in the conventional character of the previous translations. Now, if
there is any quality in "Heidi" that gives it a particular charm, that
quality is freshness, absolute spontaneity. To be sure, the story is
so attractive that it could never be wholly spoiled; but has not the
reader the right to enjoy it in English at least very nearly as much
as he could in German? The two languages are so different in nature
that anything like a literal rendering of one into the other is sure
to result in awkwardness and indirectness. Such a book must be not
translated, but re-lived and re-created.
To perform such a feat the writer must, to begin with, be familiar
with the mountains, and able to appreciate with Wordsworth
The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
The translator of the present version was born and reared in a region
closely similar to that of the story. Her home was originally in the
picturesque town of Salzburg, and her father, Franz von Pausinger, was
one of the greatest landscape painters of his country and generation.
Another equally important requisite is knowledge of children. It
happens that this translator has a daughter just the age of the
heroine, who moreover loves to dress in Tyrolese costume. To translate
"Heidi" was for her therefore a labor of love, which means that the
love contended with and overcame the labor.
The English style of the present version is, then, distinctive. It has
often been noticed that those who acquire a foreign language often
learn to speak it with unusual clearness and purity. For illustration
we need go no further than Joseph Conrad, a Pole, probably the
greatest master of narrative English writing to-day; or to our own
fellow-citizen Carl Schurz. In the present case, the writer has lived
seven years in America and has strengthened an excellent training with
a wide reading of the best English classics.
Many people say that they read without noticing the author's style.
This is seldom quite true; unconsciously every one is impressed in
some way or other by the style of every book, or by its lack of style.
Children are particularly sensitive in this respect and should,
therefore, as much as is practicable, read only the best. In the new
translation of "Heidi" here offered to the public I believe that most
readers will notice an especial flavor, that very quality of delight
in mountain scenes, in mountain people and in child life generally,
which is one of the chief merits of the German original. The phrasing
has also been carefully adapted to the purpose of reading aloud--a
thing that few translators think of. In conclusion, the author,
realising the difference between the two languages, has endeavored to
write the story afresh, as Johanna Spyri would have written it had
English been her native tongue. How successful the attempt has been
the reader will judge.
CHARLES WHARTON STORK
Assistant Professor of English at the
University of Pennsylvania
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
PART I
HEIDI'S YEARS OF LEARNING AND TRAVEL
CHAPTER PAGE
I. GOING UP TO THE ALM-UNCLE 17
II. WITH THE GRANDFATHER 38
III. ON THE PASTURE 50
IV. IN THE GRANDMOTHER'S HUT 67
V. TWO VISITORS 83
VI. A NEW CHAPTER WITH NEW THINGS 95
VII. MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS AN UNCOMFORTABLE DAY 104
VIII. GREAT DISTURBANCES IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 119
IX. THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE HEARS OF STRANGE DOINGS 129
X. A GRANDMAMA 136
XI. HEIDI GAINS IN SOME RESPECTS AND LOSES IN OTHERS 146
XII. THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 153
XIII. UP THE ALP ON A SUMMER EVENING 165
XIV. ON SUNDAY WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 183
PART II
HEIDI MAKES USE OF HER EXPERIENCE
XV. PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 199
XVI. A GUEST ON THE ALP 207
XVII. RETALIATION 219
XVIII. WINTER IN THE VILLAGE 229
XIX. WINTER STILL CONTINUES 243
XX. NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 252
XXI. ON FURTHER EVENTS ON THE ALP 268
XXII. SOMETHING UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 276
XXIII. PARTING TO MEET AGAIN 293
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
WAVING HER HAND AND LOOKING AFTER HER DEPARTING
FRIEND TILL HE LOOKED NO BIGGER THAN A LITTLE
DOT _Frontispiece_
SHE UNDID THE HEAVY SHAWL AND THE TWO LITTLE DRESSES 30
HERE A NEAT LITTLE BED WAS PREPARED 41
SHE HANDED HIM ALSO THE WHOLE SLICE OF CHEESE 57
OFF THEY STARTED AT SUCH A PACE THAT HEIDI SHOUTED FOR
JOY 71
WHEN HEIDI HEARD THAT SHE STRUGGLED TO GET FREE 92
OFF THEY STARTED, AND SOON HEIDI WAS PULLING THE
DOOR-BELL 116
THERE SHE WOULD REMAIN, EATING HER HEART AWAY WITH
LONGING 152
THROWING HERSELF IN HER GRANDFATHER'S ARMS, SHE HELD HIM
TIGHT 179
WITH HEIDI'S HAND IN HIS THEY WANDERED DOWN TOGETHER 192
THEY ARE COMING, OH, THE DOCTOR IS COMING FIRST 211
THE TWO CHILDREN WERE ALREADY FLYING DOWN THE ALP 241
HE WATCHED HIS FALLEN ENEMY TUMBLING DOWNWARDS,
DOWNWARDS 277
PETER SHOT OFF AND RUSHED DOWN THE MOUNTAIN-SIDE,
TURNING WILD SOMERSAULTS ON HIS PERILOUS WAY 298
Part I
Heidi's Years of Learning and Travel
[Illustration]
HEIDI
I
GOING UP TO THE ALM-UNCLE
The little old town of Mayenfeld is charmingly situated. From it a
footpath leads through green, well-wooded stretches to the foot of the
heights which look down imposingly upon the valley. Where the footpath
begins to go steeply and abruptly up the Alps, the heath, with its
short grass and pungent herbage, at once sends out its soft perfume to
meet the wayfarer.
One bright sunny morning in June, a tall, vigorous maiden of the
mountain region climbed up the narrow path, leading a little girl by
the hand. The youngster's cheeks were in such a glow that it showed
even through her sun-browned skin. Small wonder though! for in spite
of the heat, the little one, who was scarcely five years old, was
bundled up as if she had to brave a bitter frost. Her shape was
difficult to distinguish, for she wore two dresses, if not three, and
around her shoulders a large red cotton shawl. With her feet encased
in heavy hob-nailed boots, this hot and shapeless little person toiled
up the mountain.
The pair had been climbing for about an hour when they reached a
hamlet half-way up the great mountain named the Alm. This hamlet was
called "Im Doerfli" or "The Little Village." It was the elder girl's
home town, and therefore she was greeted from nearly every house;
people called to her from windows and doors, and very often from the
road. But, answering questions and calls as she went by, the girl did
not loiter on her way and only stood still when she reached the end of
the hamlet. There a few cottages lay scattered about, from the
furthest of which a voice called out to her through an open door:
"Deta, please wait one moment! I am coming with you, if you are going
further up."
When the girl stood still to wait, the child instantly let go her hand
and promptly sat down on the ground.
"Are you tired, Heidi?" Deta asked the child.
"No, but hot," she replied.
"We shall be up in an hour, if you take big steps and climb with all
your little might!" Thus the elder girl tried to encourage her small
companion.
A stout, pleasant-looking woman stepped out of the house and joined
the two. The child had risen and wandered behind the old
acquaintances, who immediately started gossiping about their friends
in the neighborhood and the people of the hamlet generally.
"Where are you taking the child, Deta?" asked the newcomer. "Is she
the child your sister left?"
"Yes," Deta assured her; "I am taking her up to the Alm-Uncle and
there I want her to remain."
"You can't really mean to take her there Deta. You must have lost your
senses, to go to him. I am sure the old man will show you the door and
won't even listen to what you say."
"Why not? As he's her grandfather, it is high time he should do
something for the child. I have taken care of her until this summer
and now a good place has been offered to me. The child shall not
hinder me from accepting it, I tell you that!"
"It would not be so hard, if he were like other mortals. But you know
him yourself. How could he _look_ after a child, especially such a
little one? She'll never get along with him, I am sure of that!--But
tell me of your prospects."
"I am going to a splendid house in Frankfurt. Last summer some people
went off to the baths and I took care of their rooms. As they got to
like me, they wanted to take me along, but I could not leave. They
have come back now and have persuaded me to go with them."
"I am glad I am not the child!" exclaimed Barbara with a shudder.
"Nobody knows anything about the old man's life up there. He doesn't
speak to a living soul, and from one year's end to the other he keeps
away from church. People get out of his way when he appears once in a
twelve-month down here among us. We all fear him and he is really just
like a heathen or an old Indian, with those thick grey eyebrows and
that huge uncanny beard. When he wanders along the road with his
twisted stick we are all afraid to meet him alone."
"That is not my fault," said Deta stubbornly. "He won't do her any
harm; and if he should, he is responsible, not I."
"I wish I knew what weighs on the old man's conscience. Why are his
eyes so fierce and why does he live up there all alone? Nobody ever
sees him and we hear many strange things about him. Didn't your sister
tell you anything, Deta?"
"Of course she did, but I shall hold my tongue. He would make me pay
for it if I didn't."
Barbara had long been anxious to know something about the old uncle
and why he lived apart from everybody. Nobody had a good word for him,
and when people talked about him, they did not speak openly but as if
they were afraid. She could not even explain to herself why he was
called the Alm-Uncle. He could not possibly be the uncle of all the
people in the village, but since everybody spoke of him so, she did
the same. Barbara, who had only lived in the village since her
marriage, was glad to get some information from her friend. Deta had
been bred there, but since her mother's death had gone away to earn
her livelihood.
She confidentially seized Deta's arm and said: "I wish you would tell
me the truth about him, Deta; you know it all--people only gossip.
Tell me, what has happened to the old man to turn everybody against
him so? Did he always hate his fellow-creatures?"
"I cannot tell you whether he always did, and that for a very good
reason. He being sixty years old, and I only twenty-six, you can't
expect me to give you an account of his early youth. But if you'll
promise to keep it to yourself and not set all the people in Praetiggan
talking, I can tell you a good deal. My mother and he both came from
Domleschg."
"How can you talk like that, Deta?" replied Barbara in an offended
tone. "People do not gossip much in Praetiggan, and I always can keep
things to myself, if I have to. You won't repent of having told me, I
assure you!"
"All right, but keep your word!" said Deta warningly. Then she looked
around to see that the child was not so close to them as to overhear
what might be said; but the little girl was nowhere to be seen. While
the two young women had talked at such a rate, they had not noticed
her absence; quite a while must have elapsed since the little girl had
given up following her companions. Deta, standing still, looked about
her everywhere, but no one was on the path, which--except for a few
curves--was visible as far down as the village.
"There she is! Can't you see her there?" exclaimed Barbara, pointing
to a spot a good distance from the path. "She is climbing up with the
goatherd Peter and his goats. I wonder why he is so late to-day. I
must say, it suits us well enough; he can look after the child while
you tell me everything without being interrupted."
"It will be very easy for Peter to watch her," remarked Deta; "she is
bright for her five years and keeps her eyes wide open. I have often
noticed that and I am glad for her, for it will be useful with the
uncle. He has nothing left in the whole wide world, but his cottage
and two goats!"
"Did he once have more?" asked Barbara.
"I should say so. He was heir to a large farm in Domleschg. But
setting up to play the fine gentleman, he soon lost everything with
drink and play. His parents died with grief and he himself
disappeared from these parts. After many years he came back with a
half-grown boy, his son, Tobias, that was his name, became a carpenter
and turned out to be a quiet, steady fellow. Many strange rumors went
round about the uncle and I think that was why he left Domleschg for
Doerfli. We acknowledged relationship, my mother's grandmother being a
cousin of his. We called him uncle, and because we are related on my
father's side to nearly all the people in the hamlet they too all
called him uncle. He was named 'Alm-Uncle' when he moved up to the
Alm."
"But what happened to Tobias?" asked Barbara eagerly.
"Just wait. How can I tell you everything at once?" exclaimed Deta.
"Tobias was an apprentice in Mels, and when he was made master, he
came home to the village and married my sister Adelheid. They always
had been fond of each other and they lived very happily as man and
wife. But their joy was short. Two years afterwards, when Tobias was
helping to build a house, a beam fell on him and killed him. Adelheid
was thrown into a violent fever with grief and fright, and never
recovered from it. She had never been strong and had often suffered
from queer spells, when we did not know whether she was awake or
asleep. Only a few weeks after Tobias's death they buried poor
Adelheid.
"People said that heaven had punished the uncle for his misdeeds.
After the death of his son he never spoke to a living soul. Suddenly
he moved up to the Alp, to live there at enmity with God and man.
"My mother and I took Adelheid's little year-old baby, Heidi, to live
with us. When I went to Ragatz I took her with me; but in the spring
the family whose work I had done last year came from Frankfurt and
resolved to take me to their town-house. I am very glad to get such a
good position."
"And now you want to hand over the child to this terrible old man. I
really wonder how you can do it, Deta!" said Barbara with reproach in
her voice.
"It seems to me I have really done enough for the child. I do not know
where else to take her, as she is too young to come with me to
Frankfurt. By the way, Barbara, where are you going? We are half-way
up the Alm already."
Deta shook hands with her companion and stood still while Barbara
approached the tiny, dark-brown mountain hut, which lay in a hollow a
few steps away from the path.
Situated half-way up the Alm, the cottage was luckily protected from
the mighty winds. Had it been exposed to the tempests, it would have
been a doubtful habitation in the state of decay it was in. Even as it
was, the doors and windows rattled and the old rafters shook when the
south wind swept the mountain side. If the hut had stood on the Alm
top, the wind would have blown it down the valley without much ado
when the storm season came.
Here lived Peter the goatherd, a boy eleven years old, who daily
fetched the goats from the village and drove them up the mountain to
the short and luscious grasses of the pastures. Peter raced down in
the evening with the light-footed little goats. When he whistled
sharply through his fingers, every owner would come and get his or her
goat. These owners were mostly small boys and girls and, as the goats
were friendly, they did not fear them. That was the only time Peter
spent with other children, the rest of the day the animals were his
sole companions. At home lived his mother and an old blind
grandmother, but he only spent enough time in the hut to swallow his
bread and milk for breakfast and the same repast for supper. After
that he sought his bed to sleep. He always left early in the morning
and at night he came home late, so that he could be with his friends
as long as possible. His father had met with an accident some years
ago; he also had been called Peter the goatherd. His mother, whose
name was Brigida, was called "Goatherd Peter's wife" and his blind
grandmother was called by young and old from many miles about just
"grandmother."
Deta waited about ten minutes to see if the children were coming up
behind with the goats. As she could not find them anywhere, she
climbed up a little higher to get a better view down the valley from
there, and peered from side to side with marks of great impatience on
her countenance.
The children in the meantime were ascending slowly in a zigzag way,
Peter always knowing where to find all sorts of good grazing places
for his goats where they could nibble. Thus they strayed from side to
side. The poor little girl had followed the boy only with the greatest
effort and she was panting in her heavy clothes. She was so hot and
uncomfortable that she only climbed by exerting all her strength. She
did not say anything but looked enviously at Peter, who jumped about
so easily in his light trousers and bare feet. She envied even more
the goats that climbed over bushes, stones, and steep inclines with
their slender legs. Suddenly sitting down on the ground the child
swiftly took off her shoes and stockings. Getting up she undid the
heavy shawl and the two little dresses. Out she slipped without more
ado and stood up in only a light petticoat. In sheer delight at the
relief, she threw up her dimpled arms, that were bare up to her short
sleeves. To save the trouble of carrying them, her aunt had dressed
her in her Sunday clothes over her workday garments. Heidi arranged
her dresses neatly in a heap and joined Peter and the goats. She was
now as light-footed as any of them. When Peter, who had not paid much
attention, saw her suddenly in her light attire, he grinned. Looking
back, he saw the little heap of dresses on the ground and then he
grinned yet more, till his mouth seemed to reach from ear to ear; but
he said never a word.
The child, feeling free and comfortable, started to converse with
Peter, and he had to answer many questions. She asked him how many
goats he had, and where he led them, what he did with them when he got
there, and so forth.
[Illustration: SHE UNDID THE HEAVY SHAWL AND THE TWO LITTLE
DRESSES]
At last the children reached the summit in front of the hut. When Deta
saw the little party of climbers she cried out shrilly: "Heidi, what
have you done? What a sight you are! Where are your dresses and your
shawl? Are the new shoes gone that I just bought for you, and the new
stockings that I made myself? Where are they all, Heidi?"
The child quietly pointed down and said "There."
The aunt followed the direction of her finger and descried a little
heap with a small red dot in the middle, which she recognized as the
shawl.
"Unlucky child!" Deta said excitedly. "What does all this mean? Why
have you taken your things all off?"
"Because I do not need them," said the child, not seeming in the least
repentant of her deed.
"How can you be so stupid, Heidi? Have you lost your senses?" the aunt
went on, in a tone of mingled vexation and reproach. "Who do you think
will go way down there to fetch those things up again? It is
half-an-hour's walk. Please, Peter, run down and get them. Do not
stand and stare at me as if you were glued to the spot."
"I am late already," replied Peter, and stood without moving from the
place where, with his hands in his trousers' pockets, he had witnessed
the violent outbreak of Heidi's aunt.
"There you are, standing and staring, but that won't get you further,"
said Deta. "I'll give you this if you go down." With that she held a
five-penny-piece under his eyes. That made Peter start and in a great
hurry he ran down the straightest path. He arrived again in so short a
time that Deta had to praise him and gave him her little coin without
delay. He did not often get such a treasure, and therefore his face
was beaming and he laughingly dropped the money deep into his pocket.
"If you are going up to the uncle, as we are, you can carry the pack
till we get there," said Deta. They still had to climb a steep ascent
that lay behind Peter's hut. The boy readily took the things and
followed Deta, his left arm holding the bundle and his right swinging
the stick. Heidi jumped along gaily by his side with the goats.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12