Heidi
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Johanna Spyri >> Heidi
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"It is true, it must make you impatient," said Mr. Sesemann. Laying
his hand on his friend's shoulder, he continued: "I cannot say how
hard it is for me to refuse Clara this trip. Haven't I promised it to
her and hasn't she looked forward to it for months? She has borne all
her suffering so patiently, just because she had hoped to be able to
visit her little friend on the Alp. I hate to rob her of this
pleasure. The poor child has so many trials and so little change."
"But, Sesemann, you must do it," was the doctor's answer. When his
friend remained silent, he continued: "Just think what a hard summer
Clara has had! She never was more ill and we could not attempt this
journey without risking the worst consequences. Remember, we are in
September now, and though the weather may still be fine on the Alp, it
is sure to be very cool. The days are getting short, and she could
only spend a few hours up there, if she had to return for the night.
It would take several hours to have her carried up from Ragatz. You
see yourself how impossible it is! I shall come in with you, though,
to talk to Clara, and you'll find her sensible. I'll tell you of my
plan for next May. First she can go to Ragatz to take the baths. When
it gets warm on the mountain, she can be carried up from time to time.
She'll be stronger then and much more able to enjoy those excursions
than she is now. If we hope for an improvement in her condition, we
must be extremely cautious and careful, remember that!"
Mr. Sesemann, who had been listening with the utmost submission, now
said anxiously: "Doctor, please tell me honestly if you still have
hope left for any change?"
With shrugging shoulders the doctor replied: "Not very much. But think
of me, Sesemann! Have you not a child, who loves you and always
welcomes you? You don't have to come back to a lonely house and sit
down alone at your table. Your child is well taken care of, and if she
has many privations, she also has many advantages. Sesemann, you do
not need to be pitied! Just think of my lonely home!"
Mr. Sesemann had gotten up and was walking round the room, as he
always did when something occupied his thoughts. Suddenly he stood
before his friend and said: "Doctor, I have an idea. I cannot see you
sad any longer. You must get away. You shall undertake this trip and
visit Heidi in our stead."
The doctor had been surprised by this proposal, and tried to object.
But Mr. Sesemann was so full of his new project that he pulled his
friend with him into his daughter's room, not leaving him time for any
remonstrances. Clara loved the doctor, who had always tried to cheer
her up on his visits by bright and funny tales. She was sorry for the
change that had come over him and would have given much to see him
happy again. When he had shaken hands with her, both men pulled up
their chairs to Clara's bedside. Mr. Sesemann began to speak of their
journey and how sorry he was to give it up. Then he quickly began to
talk of his new plan.
Clara's eyes had filled with tears. But she knew that her father did
not like to see her cry, and besides she was sure that her papa would
only forbid her this pleasure because it was absolutely necessary to
do so.
So she bravely fought her tears, and caressing the doctor's hand,
said:
"Oh please, doctor, do go to Heidi; then you can tell me all about
her, and can describe her grandfather to me, and Peter, with his
goats,--I seem to know them all so well. Then you can take all the
things to her that I had planned to take myself. Oh, please doctor,
go, and then I'll be good and take as much cod-liver oil as ever you
want me to."
Who can tell if this promise decided the doctor? At any rate he
answered with a smile: "Then I surely must go, Clara, for you will get
fat and strong, as we both want to see you. Have you settled yet when
I must go?"
"Oh, you had better go tomorrow morning, doctor," Clara urged.
"She is right," the father assented; "the sun is shining and you must
not lose any more glorious days on the Alp."
The doctor had to laugh. "Why don't you chide me for being here still?
I shall go as quickly as I can, Sesemann."
Clara gave many messages to him for Heidi. She also told him to be
sure to observe everything closely, so that he would be able to tell
her all about it when he came back. The things for Heidi were to be
sent to him later, for Miss Rottenmeier, who had to pack them, was out
on one of her lengthy wanderings about town.
The doctor promised to comply with all Clara's wishes and to start the
following day.
Clara rang for the maid and said to her, when she arrived: "Please,
Tinette, pack a lot of fresh, soft coffee-cake in this box." A box
had been ready for this purpose many days. When the maid was leaving
the room she murmured: "That's a silly bother!"
Sebastian, who had happened to overhear some remarks, asked the
physician when he was leaving to take his regards to the little Miss,
as he called Heidi.
With a promise to deliver this message the doctor was just hastening
out, when he encountered an obstacle. Miss Rottenmeier, who had been
obliged to return from her walk on account of the strong wind, was
just coming in. She wore a large cape, which the wind was blowing
about her like two full sails. Both had retreated politely to give way
to each other. Suddenly the wind seemed to carry the housekeeper
straight towards the doctor, who had barely time to avoid her. This
little incident, which had ruffled Miss Rottenmeier's temper very
much, gave the doctor occasion to soothe her, as she liked to be
soothed by this man, whom she respected more than anybody in the
world. Telling her of his intended visit, he entreated her to pack the
things for Heidi as only she knew how.
Clara had expected some resistance from Miss Rottenmeier about the
packing of her presents. What was her surprise when this lady showed
herself most obliging, and immediately, on being told, brought
together all the articles! First came a heavy coat for Heidi, with a
hood, which Clara meant her to use on visits to the grandmother in the
winter. Then came a thick warm shawl and a large box with coffee-cake
for the grandmother. An enormous sausage for Peter's mother followed,
and a little sack of tobacco for the grandfather. At last a lot of
mysterious little parcels and boxes were packed, things that Clara had
gathered together for Heidi. When the tidy pack lay ready on the
ground, Clara's heart filled with pleasure at the thought of her
little friend's delight.
Sebastian now entered, and putting the pack on his shoulder, carried
it to the doctor's house without delay.
XVI
A GUEST ON THE ALP
The early dawn was tinging the mountains and a fresh morning-breeze
rocked the old fir-trees to and fro. Heidi opened her eyes, for the
rustling of the wind had awakened her. These sounds always thrilled
her heart, and now they drew her out of bed. Rising hurriedly, she
soon was neatly dressed and combed.
Coming down the little ladder and finding the grandfather's bed empty,
she ran outside. The old man was looking up at the sky to see what the
weather was going to be like that day. Rosy clouds were passing
overhead, but gradually the sky grew more blue and deep, and soon a
golden light passed over the heights, for the sun was rising in all
his glory.
"Oh, how lovely! Good-morning, grandfather," Heidi exclaimed.
"Are your eyes bright already?" the grandfather retorted, holding out
his hand.
Heidi then ran over to her beloved fir-trees and danced about, while
the wind was howling in the branches.
After the old man had washed and milked the goats, he brought them out
of the shed. When Heidi saw her friends again, she caressed them
tenderly, and they in their turn nearly crushed her between them.
Sometimes when Baerli got too wild, Heidi would say: "But Baerli, you
push me like the Big Turk," and that was enough to quiet the goat.
Soon Peter arrived with the whole herd, the jolly Thistlefinch ahead
of all the others. Heidi, being soon in the mist of them, was pushed
about among them. Peter was anxious to say a word to the little girl,
so he gave a shrill whistle, urging the goats to climb ahead. When he
was near her he said reproachfully: "You really might come with me
to-day!"
"No, I can't, Peter," said Heidi. "They might come from Frankfurt any
time. I must be home when they come."
"How often you have said that," grumbled the boy.
"But I mean it," replied Heidi. "Do you really think I want to be away
when they come from Frankfurt? Do you really think that, Peter?"
"They could come to uncle," Peter growled.
Then the grandfather's strong voice was heard: "Why doesn't the army
go forward? Is it the field-marshal's fault, or the fault of the
troop?"
Peter immediately turned about and led his goats up the mountain
without more ado.
Since Heidi had come home again to her grandfather she did many things
that had never occurred to her before. For instance, she would make
her bed every morning, and run about the hut, tidying and dusting.
With an old rag she would rub the chairs and table till they all
shone, and the grandfather would exclaim: "It is always Sunday with us
now; Heidi has not been away in vain."
On this day after breakfast, when Heidi began her self-imposed task,
it took her longer than usual, for the weather was too glorious to
stay within. Over and over again a bright sunbeam would tempt the busy
child outside. How could she stay indoors, when the glistening
sunshine was pouring down and all the mountains seemed to glow? She
had to sit down on the dry, hard ground and look down into the valley
and all about her. Then, suddenly remembering her little duties, she
would hasten back. It was not long, though, till the roaring fir-trees
tempted her again. The grandfather had been busy in his little shop,
merely glancing over at the child from time to time. Suddenly he heard
her call: "Oh grandfather, come!"
He was frightened and came out quickly He saw her running down the
hill crying: "They are coming, they are coming. Oh, the doctor is
coming first."
[Illustration: THEY ARE COMING, OH, THE DOCTOR IS COMING FIRST]
When Heidi at last reached her old friend, he held out his hand, which
Heidi immediately seized. In the full joy of her heart, she exclaimed:
"How do you do, doctor? And I thank you a thousand times!"
"How are you, Heidi? But what are you thanking me for already?" the
doctor asked, with a smile.
"Because you let me come home again," the child explained.
The gentleman's face lit up like sunshine. He had certainly not
counted on such a reception on the Alp. On the contrary! Not even
noticing all the beauty around him, he had climbed up sadly, for he
was sure that Heidi probably would not know him any more. He thought
that he would be far from welcome, being obliged to cause her a great
disappointment. Instead, he beheld Heidi's bright eyes looking up at
him in gratefulness and love. She was still holding his arm, when he
said: "Come now, Heidi, and take me to your grandfather, for I want
to see where you live."
Like a kind father he had taken her hand, but Heidi stood still and
looked down the mountain-side.
"But where are Clara and grandmama?" she asked.
"Child, I must tell you something now which will grieve you as much as
it grieves me," replied the doctor. "I had to come alone, for Clara
has been very ill and could not travel. Of course grandmama has not
come either; but the spring will soon be here, and when the days get
long and warm, they will surely visit you."
Heidi was perfectly amazed; she could not understand how all those
things that she had pictured to herself so clearly would not happen
after all. She was standing perfectly motionless, confused by the
blow.
It was some time before Heidi remembered that, after all, she had come
down to meet the doctor. Looking up at her friend, she was struck by
his sad and cheerless face. How changed he was since she had seen
him! She did not like to see people unhappy, least of all the good,
kind doctor. He must be sad because Clara and grandmama had not come,
and to console him she said: "Oh, it won't last long till spring comes
again; then they will come for sure; they'll be able to stay much
longer then, and that will please Clara. Now we'll go to grandfather."
Hand in hand she climbed up with her old friend. All the way she tried
to cheer him up by telling him again and again of the coming summer
days. After they had reached the cottage, she called out to her
grandfather quite happily:
"They are not here yet, but it won't be very long before they are
coming!"
The grandfather warmly welcomed his guest, who did not seem at all a
stranger, for had not Heidi told him many things about the doctor?
They all three sat down on the bench before the door, and the doctor
told of the object of his visit. He whispered to the child that
something was coming up the mountain very soon which would bring her
more pleasure than his visit. What could it be?
The uncle advised the doctor to spend the splendid days of autumn on
the Alp, if possible, and to take a little room in the village instead
of in Ragatz; then he could easily walk up every day to the hut, and
from there the uncle could take him all around the mountains. This
plan was accepted.
The sun was in its zenith and the wind had ceased. Only a soft
delicious breeze fanned the cheeks of all.
The uncle now got up and went into the hut, returning soon with a
table and their dinner.
"Go in, Heidi, and set the table here. I hope you will excuse our
simple meal," he said, turning to his guest.
"I shall gladly accept this delightful invitation; I am sure that
dinner will taste good up here," said the guest, looking down over the
sun-bathed valley.
Heidi was running to and fro, for it gave her great joy to be able to
wait on her kind protector. Soon the uncle appeared with the steaming
milk, the toasted cheese, and the finely-sliced, rosy meat that had
been dried in the pure air. The doctor enjoyed his dinner better than
any he had ever tasted.
"Yes, we must send Clara up here. How she could gather strength!" he
said; "If she would have an appetite like mine to-day, she couldn't
help getting nice and fat."
At this moment a man could be seen walking up with a large sack on his
shoulders. Arriving on top, he threw down his load, breathing in the
pure, fresh air.
Opening the cover, the doctor said: "This has come for you from
Frankfurt, Heidi. Come and look what is in it."
Heidi timidly watched the heap, and only when the gentleman opened the
box with the cakes for the grandmother she said joyfully: "Oh, now
grandmother can eat this lovely cake." She was taking the box and the
beautiful shawl on her arm and was going to race down to deliver the
gifts, when the men persuaded her to stay and unpack the rest. What
was her delight at finding the tobacco and all the other things. The
men had been talking together, when the child suddenly planted herself
in front of them and said: "These things have not given me as much
pleasure as the dear doctor's coming." Both men smiled.
When it was near sunset, the doctor rose to start on his way down. The
grandfather, carrying the box, the shawl and the sausage, and the
guest holding the little girl by the hand, they wandered down the
mountain-side. When they reached Peter's hut, Heidi was told to go
inside and wait for her grandfather there. At parting she asked:
"Would you like to come with me up to the pasture to-morrow, doctor?"
"With pleasure. Good-bye, Heidi," was the reply. The grandfather had
deposited all the presents before the door, and it took Heidi long to
carry in the huge box and the sausage. The shawl she put on the
grandmother's knee.
Brigida had silently watched the proceedings, and could not open her
eyes wide enough when she saw the enormous sausage. Never in her life
had she seen the like, and now she really possessed it and could cut
it herself.
"Oh grandmother, don't the cakes please you awfully? Just look how
soft they are!" the child exclaimed. What was her amazement when she
saw the grandmother more pleased with the shawl, which would keep her
warm in winter.
"Grandmother, Clara has sent you that," Heidi said.
"Oh, what kind good people they are to think of a poor old woman like
me! I never thought I should ever own such a splendid wrap."
At this moment Peter came stumbling in.
"The uncle is coming up behind me, and Heidi must--" that was as far
as he got, for his eyes had fastened on the sausage. Heidi, however,
had already said good-bye, for she knew what he had meant. Though her
uncle never went by the hut any more without stepping in, she knew it
was too late to-day. "Heidi, come, you must get your sleep," he called
through the open door. Bidding them all good-night, he took Heidi by
the hand and under the glistening stars they wandered home to their
peaceful cottage.
[Illustration]
XVII
RETALIATION
Early the next morning the doctor climbed up the mountain in company
with Peter and his goats. The friendly gentleman made several attempts
to start a conversation with the boy, but as answer to his questions
he got nothing more than monosyllables. When they arrived on top, they
found Heidi already waiting, fresh and rosy as the early dawn.
"Are you coming?" asked Peter as usual.
"Of course I shall, if the doctor comes with us," replied the child.
The grandfather, coming out of the hut, greeted the newcomer with
great respect. Then he went up to Peter, and hung on his shoulder the
sack, which seemed to contain more than usual that day.
When they had started on their way, Heidi kept urging forward the
goats, which were crowding about her. When at last she was walking
peacefully by the doctor's side, she began to relate to him many
things about the goats and all their strange pranks, and about the
flowers, rocks and birds they saw. When they arrived at their
destination, time seemed to have flown. Peter all the time was sending
many an angry glance at the unconscious doctor, who never even noticed
it.
Heidi now took the doctor to her favorite spot. From there they could
hear the peaceful-sounding bells of the grazing cattle below. The sky
was deep blue, and above their heads the eagle was circling with
outstretched wings. Everything was luminous and bright about them, but
the doctor had been silent. Suddenly looking up, he beheld Heidi's
radiant eyes.
"Heidi, it is beautiful up here," he said. "But how can anybody with a
heavy heart enjoy the beauty? Tell me!"
"Oh," exclaimed Heidi, "one never has a sad heart here. One only gets
unhappy in Frankfurt."
A faint smile passed over the doctor's face. Then he began: "But if
somebody has brought his sorrow away with him, how would you comfort
him?"
"God in Heaven alone can help him."
"That is true, child," remarked the doctor. "But what can we do when
God Himself has sent us the affliction?"
After meditating a moment, Heidi replied: "One must wait patiently,
for God knows how to turn the saddest things to something happy in the
end. God will show us what He has meant to do for us. But He will only
do so if we pray to Him patiently."
"I hope you will always keep this beautiful belief, Heidi," said the
doctor. Then looking up at the mighty cliffs above, he continued:
"Think how sad it would make us not to be able to see all these
beautiful things. Wouldn't that make us doubly sad? Can you understand
me, child?"
A great pain shot through Heidi's breast. She had to think of the poor
grandmother. Her blindness was always a great sorrow to the child, and
she had been struck with it anew. Seriously she replied:
"Oh yes, I can understand it. But then we can read grandmother's
songs; they make us happy and bright again."
"Which songs, Heidi?"
"Oh, those of the sun, and of the beautiful garden, and then the last
verses of the long one. Grandmother loves them so that I always have
to read them over three times," said Heidi.
"I wish you would say them to me, child, for I should like to hear
them," said the doctor.
Heidi, folding her hands, began the consoling verses. She stopped
suddenly, however, for the doctor did not seem to listen. He was
sitting motionless, holding his hand before his eyes. Thinking that he
had fallen asleep, she remained silent. But the verses had recalled
his childhood days; he seemed to hear his mother and see her loving
eyes, for when he was a little boy she had sung this song to him. A
long time he sat there, till he discovered that Heidi was watching
him.
"Heidi, your song was lovely," he said with a more joyful voice. "We
must come here another day and then you can recite it to me again."
During all this time Peter had been boiling with anger. Now that Heidi
had come again to the pasture with him, she did nothing but talk to
the old gentleman. It made him very cross that he was not even able to
get near her. Standing a little distance behind Heidi's friend, he
shook his fist at him, and soon afterwards both fists, finally raising
them up to the sky, as Heidi and the doctor remained together.
When the sun stood in its zenith and Peter knew that it was noon, he
called over to them with all his might: "Time to eat."
When Heidi was getting up to fetch their dinner, the doctor just asked
for a glass of milk, which was all he wanted. The child also decided
to make the milk her sole repast, running over to Peter and informing
him of their resolution.
When the boy found that the whole contents of the bag was his, he
hurried with his task as never in his life before. But he felt guilty
on account of his former anger at the kind gentleman. To show his
repentance he held his hands up flat to the sky, indicating by his
action that his fists did not mean anything any more. Only after that
did he start with his feast.
Heidi and the doctor had wandered about the pasture till the gentleman
had found it time to go. He wanted Heidi to remain where she was, but
she insisted on accompanying him. All the way down she showed him many
places where the pretty mountain flowers grew, all of whose names she
could tell him. When they parted at last, Heidi waved to him. From
time to time he turned about, and seeing the child still standing
there, he had to think of his own little daughter who used to wave to
him like that when he went away from home.
The weather was warm and sunny that month. Every morning the doctor
came up to the Alp, spending his day very often with the old man. Many
a climb they had together that took them far up, to the bare cliffs
near the eagle's haunt. The uncle would show his guest all the herbs
that grew on hidden places and were strengthening and healing. He
could tell many strange things of the beasts that lived in holes in
rock or earth, or in the high tops of trees.
In the evening they would part, and the doctor would exclaim: "My dear
friend, I never leave you without having learned something."
But most of his days he spent with Heidi. Then the two would sit
together on the child's favorite spot, and Peter, quite subdued,
behind them. Heidi had to recite the verses, as she had done the first
day, and entertain him with all the things she knew.
At last the beautiful month of September was over. One morning the
doctor came up with a sadder face than usual. The time had come for
him to go back to Frankfurt, and great was the uncle's sadness at that
news. Heidi herself could hardly realize that her loving friend, whom
she had been seeing every day, was really leaving. The doctor himself
was loath to go, for the Alp had become as a home to him. But it was
necessary for him to go, and shaking hands with the grandfather, he
said good-bye, Heidi going along with him a little way.
Hand in hand they wandered down, till the doctor stood still. Then
caressing Heidi's curly hair, he said: "Now I must go, Heidi! I wish I
could take you along with me to Frankfurt; then I could keep you."
At those words, all the rows and rows of houses and streets, Miss
Rottenmeier and Tinette rose before Heidi's eyes. Hesitating a little,
she said: "I should like it better if you would come to see us again."
"I believe that will be better. Now farewell!" said the friendly
gentleman. When they shook hands his eyes filled with tears. Turning
quickly he hurried off.
Heidi, standing on the same spot, looked after him. What kind eyes he
had! But they had been full of tears. All of a sudden she began to cry
bitterly, and ran after her friend, calling with all her might, but
interrupted by her sobs:
"Oh doctor, doctor!"
Looking round he stood still and waited till the child had reached
him. Her tears came rolling down her cheeks while she sobbed: "I'll
come with you to Frankfurt and I'll stay as long as ever you want me
to. But first I must see grandfather."
"No, no, dear child," he said affectionately, "not at once. You must
remain here, I don't want you to get ill again. But if I should get
sick and lonely and ask you to come to me, would you come and stay
with me? Can I go away and think that somebody in this world still
cares for me and loves me?"
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