Seed-time and Harvest Part 4

"Karl!" he cried finally, "since you speak of the church-tower,--G.o.d bless you! the Gurlitz pastor must take your little girl."

"Pastor Behrens?" asked Habermann.

"Yes, Pastor Behrens, who was our private instructor at old Knirkstadt's."

"Ah, Brasig, I will confess I have thought of it almost the whole night, whether that would be possible, if I should remain in the neighbourhood."

"Possible? He must! He would like nothing better than to have a little child growing up near him, since he himself has no children; and he has rented his farm, and now has nothing to do but to read and study his books, which it would make another man turn green and yellow merely to look at from a distance. That is what he enjoys! And she, the Frau Pastorin, is so fond of children, that all the girls in the village tag after her; and she is an excellent, kind-hearted woman, and always cheerful, and the best of friends with your sister."

"Ah, if that might be!" exclaimed Habermann. "You and I owe everything to that man, Zachary! Do you remember, when he was still a candidate, at old Knirkstadt's, how he gave us private lessons in the winter evenings, and taught us writing and arithmetic, and what a friend he was to us two stupid youngsters?"

"Yes, Karl, and how Zamel Pomuchelskopp used to lie and snore of an evening, till the beams shook, while we were in the pursuit of learning. Do you remember, in the arithmetic, when we came to the Rule of Three,--you seek the fourth unknown quant.i.ty, and first get the ratio, and then it goes! In quickness I was your superior, but you were mine in accuracy, and also in orthography. But in letter-writing and in High-German, then I was better again; and these last I have ever since studied diligently, for every man has his favorite pursuit. And when I go to see the Pastor, I always thank him for his a.s.sistance in my education; and then he laughs, and says he is more indebted to me, because I have rented his farm for him, and he is now sure of a good contract. He thinks something of me, and if you stay here, we will go over to him, and you shall see he will do it."

By this time they had arrived at Pumpelhagen, and Brasig quite impressed Habermann by his distinguished manners, as he sailed up to the old servant, and inquired if the Herr Kammerrath was at home, and could be spoken with.

He would announce the gentlemen the man said; wasn't it the Herr Inspector, Brasig?

"Yes," said Brasig. "Do you see, Karl he knows me, and the Herr Kammerrath knows me too. And, did you notice? regularly announcing us!

The n.o.bility don't do things meanly. My gracious Herr Count always has people announced to him by three servants; that is, one announces to the other, until the valet finally announces to him, and by this custom we sometimes have amusing occurrences,--as, the other day, with the kammerjager. The first announced to the second, instead of kammerjager, oberjager, and the second added a meister, and the third announced to the Herr Count an oberjagermeister; and, as my gracious Herr Count prepared to receive the strange gentleman with proper ceremony, it was the old rat-catcher Tibaul."

The servant came back, and led them into a s.p.a.cious room, which was very comfortably but not splendidly furnished. In the centre stood a large, plain table, covered with papers and accounts. Behind the table stood, as they entered, a rather tall, thin man, who had on his face a thoughtful expression, and in his whole appearance an air of quiet reflection; and in his dress, although it was quite suited to his circ.u.mstances, there was the same simplicity as in the furnis.h.i.+ng of the room. He might have been about fifty, and his sandy hair was thickly sprinkled with gray; also he was evidently quite shortsighted, for, as he came around the table to receive the two guests, he reached after an eye-gla.s.s, which, however, he did not use, but went up close to his visitors. "Ah, Herr Inspector Brasig," said he quietly. "What can I do for you?"

Uncle Brasig was so put out in his elaborate address, that he could not collect himself of a sudden; not to hurry him, the Herr Kammerrath looked quite closely at Habermann. "You want---- But," he interrupted himself, "I ought to know you. Wait a moment,--were you not for ten or twelve years in service with my brother?"

"Yes, Herr Kammerrath, and my name is Habermann."

"Right, right! And to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?"

"I have understood that the Herr Kammerrath was looking for an inspector; and as I am in search of such a place----"

"But you have a farm in Pomerania, as I think I have heard,"

interrupted the proprietor.

But now it was high time for Brasig, if he had anything of importance to say, to charge into the midst. "That he had, Herr Kammerrath von Rambow, he _had_ it, but the Jews will give nothing for it now. He, like many another farmer, got into difficulties, and the pitiful meanness and baseness of his landlord have ruined him. What do you say to that, Herr Kammerrath?"

Behind the old fellow's back at these words sounded a hearty laugh, and as he looked around he saw the bright face of a ten or twelve years'

old boy, which seemed to say, "Wait a bit, there is more coming." The Kammerrath also turned his face away to laugh a little; but happily for uncle Brasig, it never occurred to him that the laughing was from any other cause than natural pleasure at his well-chosen language. He concluded therefore, quite seriously. "And so he has gone head over heels."

"I am heartily sorry," said the Kammerrath; "Yes," he added with a sigh, "these are hard times for the countrymen; but we must hope that they will improve. As regards your wish,--Axel, go out and see if breakfast is ready,--your supposition is correct. I have just dismissed my late inspector,--I will tell you, because of carelessness in his accounts,--and I am looking for a suitable man to fill his place. But,"

said he, as his son appeared at the door, and announced that breakfast was ready, "if you have not yet breakfasted, we can arrange the matter best at the breakfast-table."

With that, he went to the door, but stood there, and made a motion with his hand for them to pa.s.s out first. "Karl," whispered Brasig, "didn't I tell you? Just like one of us!" But as Habermann quietly pa.s.sed on, accepting the invitation, he threw up his eyebrows, and stretched out his hand as if he would draw his friend back by the coat-tails, then stood with his little twisted legs turned out, and bowed like a clasp-knife.

"Eh, how could I! I beseech you! Herr Kammerrath should always have precedence!" And his waiting was not of a bad order, for he had a long body and short legs, and they belong properly to waiters.

The Herr Kammerrath had to take himself out of the way of his compliments, that the old fellow might not dislocate his spine. At the breakfast-table the business was discussed and decided; Habermann was engaged on a good, sufficient salary, which was to be increased every five years; and the only condition which the Kammerrath insisted upon was that he should occupy the place at once.

The new inspector agreed to this, and the day was set for his entering on his duties, so that the Kammerrath before his departure could go with him about the place and tell him what he wanted done; and Brasig having concluded a brief sketch of the troubled life-career of the fifteen years' old full-blooded Wallach, which he had cared for in his business at the farm,--how he had "had the honor to know the old carrion ever since it was born;" how the creature in its younger years had been "such a colt as you read of in books," but afterward "with shying and spavin and all manner of devilish tricks had so disgraced himself that he was now punished by being harnessed to the dung-cart,"--the two inspectors took their leave.

"Brasig," said Habermann, when they were outside, "a stone, has been taken from my heart. Thank G.o.d, I shall be employed again! And that brings me to other thoughts. Now for Gurlitz! Ah, if we may only be as fortunate there!"

"Yes, Karl, you may well say fortunate; for--don't take it ill of me--you don't understand the way of life and the fine etiquette of n.o.ble society. How could you do such a thing! How could you go through the door before the Herr Kammerrath?"

"Brasig, when he invited me I was his guest, and he was not yet my master; now, I should not do it, and, rely upon it, he would not do it either."

"No, Karl, so I think; but at the Pastor's leave the business to me; there some finesse will be needed."

"Yes, Zachary, gladly. Were, it not for my poor little girl, I should not have the courage to ask so great a favor of any man. If you will undertake it for me, I shall consider it a real piece of friends.h.i.+p."

As they came toward the Gurlitz church, they knew by the singing that the service was not yet over; and, as they went into the Pastor's house, and into the living-room, they were met by a little, quick, round woman, upwards of forty years of age. Everything about her was round,--arms and hands and fingers, head and cheeks and lips; and the eyes looked so round and bright out of her soft round face, as if the eyelids had never been pressed down with trouble and sorrow, and such a cheery life over flowed from her mien and motions, that one believed he could almost see how the fresh, red blood throbbed through the warm heart.

"Good-day, Herr Brasig, sit down! Sit down, also! Yes, that is right, my Pastor is still in church; he would scold well if you had gone away.

Pray sit down, Herr--what shall I call you? Yes, I would gladly have gone to church to-day, but just think, last Sunday the Pastor's pew was broken in halves. Bless me, how every body crowded around, and we couldn't say 'No.' And our old cabinetmaker Prusshawer was going to mend it, and he is sick with a fever."

The round little mouth rolled out the words as if they were round, smooth, white billiard b.a.l.l.s, which a playful child shoots here and there over the green cloth.

Brasig now introduced Habermann as the brother of Frau Nussler.

"You are her brother? Her brother Karl? Now sit down, sit down! How glad my Pastor will be! When Frau Nussler is here, we always talk about you; something good you may be sure,--the Herr Inspector knows. Bless you, Brasig, what are you doing with my hymn-book? Let me put the book away! you don't want to read it, you are an old heathen. Those are funeral-hymns, and what have you to do with funeral-hymns? You will live forever! You are no better than the Wandering Jew! But, dear heart! one must think sometimes about dying, and so, since our church-pew is broken, and the old cabinet-maker has a fever, I have been reading a couple of hymns 'On preparation for death.'" And with that she flew round like quicksilver, and laid the books on one side, and whisked off a little dust here and there, where none was visible, and rubbed and polished about in the room, which was as neat as a dressing-box. All at once she stood still, listened toward the kitchen and cried, "Just so, I must go and look after the soup!" and was gone.

"Didn't I tell you, Karl?" said Brasig. "There's a temperament for you!

And what splendid health! Now leave me alone; I will manage it all,"

and he went out after the Frau Pastorin.

Habermann looked around him in the room. How neat and comfortable every thing was, so homelike and so full of peace. There hung, above the sofa, a beautiful head of Christ, and around and beneath it were the portraits of the parents of the Herr Pastor and the Frau Pastorin, and their relations, some in colors, some in crayon, some large, others small; and the Lord Jesus had his hands raised in blessing, and the Frau Pastorin had arranged under their shadow all her relations, putting them the nearest, that they might have the best of the blessing.

Her own picture, painted in early years, and that of her Pastor, she had in humility hung by the window, a little further off; but the sun, which looked in through the snow-white curtains, and gilded the other portraits, touched these two pictures first. There was a small book-case full of religious and secular books, a little mixed together, but still making a fine appearance, for they were arranged more with reference to their bindings than their contents. And if any one supposed, because she talked Platt-Deutsch, that she had no appreciation or enjoyment of High-German literature, he needed merely to open a book, where a mark lay, and he would find that the marked places had been read with heart and feeling,--that is to say, if he had as much heart and feeling as the Frau Pastorin; and, had he opened the cookbook, he would have seen that the Frau Pastorin was as good a student as the Herr Pastor, for she had just like him her notes written on the margin, and where nothing was written one might understand that those were the Herr Pastor's favorite recipes,--"And by those," said she, "I don't need to make any marks, for I know them by heart."

And here in this peaceful abode, in this pretty, comfortable nest, shall Habermann, if G.o.d in mercy grant it, leave his child to pa.s.s her early years. These hands of the Saviour shall be stretched out in blessing over her, this blessed sun shall s.h.i.+ne upon her, and the n.o.ble thoughts, which great and good men have written in books for the world, shall awaken her young soul out of childhood's dreams, and give it life and joy.

He was getting very soft-hearted. But, as he still sat between hope and fear, the Frau Pastorin came in at the door, her eyes red with weeping.

"Don't say a word, Herr Habermann, don't say a word! Brasig has told me everything, and Brasig is an old heathen, but he is a good man, and a true friend of yours,--and my Pastor thinks just as I do, that I know, for we are always one,--and that dear little thing! G.o.d bless you, yes!

The old Nusslers are a hard-hearted set," and she tapped the floor briskly with her foot.

"The old woman," said Brasig, who was by this time close beside them, "the old woman is a real horse-leech."

"Right, Brasig, she is that, but my Pastor shall talk the old people into reason; not on account of the little girl, she shall come here, or I don't know my old Pastor!"

While Habermann was expressing his heart-felt thanks, her Pastor came in,--she always called him "her" Pastor, because he was truly hers, body and soul, and her "Pastor," on account of his own dignity, and because the t.i.tle belonged to him from his office. He came bare-headed across the church-yard and parsonage-yard, for these high soft-hats, which make our good Protestant ministers look like Russian priests, were not then in fas.h.i.+on, at least not in the country; and, instead of the great ruff, as broad as the white china platter on Which the daughter of Herodias presents the head of John-Baptist to her step-father, he had a pair of little innocent bands, which his dear wife Regina had, with all Christian reverence, st.i.tched, stiffened, pressed and tied around his neck with her own hands. She held correctly that these little simple things were the distinctive ministerial uniform, and not the little four-cornered cape which was worn over the coat-collar. "For," said she, "my dear Frau Nussler, our s.e.xton wears just such a little cape, but he dare not wear bands; and when I see my Pastor, with the ornaments of his office, standing in the chancel, I don't know, they seem to me, the two little things, as they rise and fall with his words, now one, now the other, like a pair of angel-wings, on which one might rise directly to Heaven,--only my Pastor has his wings in front, and the angels have theirs behind."

No, he wasn't an angel, this good Pastor of hers, and he was the last person to set himself up for one. But with all the sincerity that shone from his face, and seemed to know no dissimulation, there was such a friendly forbearance, such a quiet, kindly expression, that one must hold him at the first glance for a brave man, and although his whole life had been given up to self-denying labor, yet he could--naturally after the Frau Pastorin had taken off his cape and bands--show in his eyes his joyous heart, and utter innocent jests with his lips; and, when he put off the ecclesiastic, he stood forth as a man who, in worldly matters also, could give sensible counsel, and reach forth a helping hand.

As he stepped into the room, he recognized Habermann immediately, and went right up to him. "My dear friend, do I see you once more! How are you? Good-day, Herr Inspector!" And as Habermann returned the greeting, and Brasig began to tell the reason of their visit, the Frau Pastorin sprang between them, and seized her Pastor by his ministerial gown, and cried, "Not a word, Herr Habermann; Brasig, will you be so good? You shall know it all from me," said she to her husband, "for, though the story is a sad one,--yes, Herr Habermann, quite too sad,--yet there will be a pleasure for you. Come, come!" and with that she drew him into his study. "For I am the nearest to him," she called back from the door, in apology.

After a while the Pastor came back with his wife into the room, and went, with a determined step and resolved expression on his face, up to Habermann. "Yes, dear Habermann, yes! We will do it, and, so far as in us lies, do it gladly,"--and he pressed his hand--"but," he added, "we have no experience in the care of children, yet we can learn. Isn't it so, Regina, we can learn?" as if with this little joke he would help Habermann over the deep emotion which struggled in his face and in his whole being.

"Herr Pastor," he broke out, finally, "You have long ago done a great deal for me, but this--" And the little Frau Pastorin reached after her means of consolation and implement of all work, which she took in hand at every surprise of joy or sorrow,--after her duster,--and dusted here and there, and would have wiped away Habermann's tears with it, if he had not turned aside, and she called out at the door after Frederica: "Now, Rika, run quickly over to the weaver's wife, and ask her to lend me her cradle,--she doesn't use it," she added, to Brasig.