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"Maiden is a human name, but hand-rammer is a thing, and we
won't be called things- that's insulting us."
"My lover would be ready to give up his engagement," said the
youngest, who was betrothed to a paver's hammer; and the hammer is the
thing which drives great piles into the earth, like a machine, and
therefore does on a large scale what ten maidens effect in a similar
way. "He wants to marry me as a maiden, but whether he would have me
were I a hand-rammer is a question, so I won't have my name changed."
"And I," said the elder one, "would rather have both my arms
broken off."
But the Wheelbarrow was of a different opinion; and the
Wheelbarrow was looked upon as of some consequence, for he
considered himself a quarter of a coach, because he went about upon
one wheel.
"I must submit to your notice," he said, "that the name 'maiden'
is common enough, and not nearly so refined as 'hand-rammer,' or
'stamper,' which latter has also been proposed, and through which
you would be introduced into the category of seals; and only think
of the great stamp of state, which impresses the royal seal that gives
effect to the laws! No, in your case I would surrender my maiden
name."
"No, certainly not!" exclaimed the elder. "I am too old for that."
"I presume you have never heard of what is called 'European
necessity?'" observed the honest Measuring Tape. "One must be able
to adapt one's self to time and circumstances, and if there is a law
that the 'maiden' is to be called 'hand-rammer,' why, she must be
called 'hand-rammer,' and no pouting will avail, for everything has
its measure."
"No; if there must be a change," said the younger, "I should
prefer to be called 'Missy,' for that reminds one a little of
maidens."
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But the sick girl
still remained where she was, quietly and patiently she lay all the
day long, while her mother was away from home at her work.
Spring came, and one morning early the sun shone brightly
through the little window, and threw its rays over the floor of the
room. just as the mother was going to her work, the sick girl fixed
her gaze on the lowest pane of the window- "Mother," she exclaimed,
"what can that little green thing be that peeps in at the window? It
is moving in the wind."
The mother stepped to the window and half opened it. "Oh!" she
said, there is actually a little pea which has taken root and is
putting out its green leaves. How could it have got into this crack?
Well now, here is a little garden for you to amuse yourself with."
So the bed of the sick girl was drawn nearer to the window, that she
might see the budding plant; and the mother went out to her work.
"Mother, I believe I shall get well," said the sick child in the
evening, "the sun has shone in here so brightly and warmly to-day, and
the little pea is thriving so well: I shall get on better, too, and go
out into the warm sunshine again."
"Mother, I believe I shall get well," said the sick child in the
evening, "the sun has shone in here so brightly and warmly to-day, and
the little pea is thriving so well: I shall get on better, too, and go
out into the warm sunshine again."
"God grant it!" said the mother, but she did not believe it
would be so. But she propped up with the little stick the green
plant which had given her child such pleasant hopes of life, so that
it might not be broken by the winds; she tied the piece of string to
the window-sill and to the upper part of the frame, so that the
pea-tendrils might twine round it when it shot up.
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But in the gabled window of the knightly castle, the lady of the
castle sat with the parchment roll before her, and wrote down the
old recollections in song and legend, while near her stood the old
woman from the wood, and the travelling peddler who went wandering
through the country. As these told their tales, there fluttered around
them, with twittering and song, the Bird of Popular Song, who never
dies so long as the earth has a hill upon which his foot may rest.
And now he looks in upon us and sings.
And now he looks in upon us and sings. Without are the night and
the snow-storm. He lays the Runes beneath our tongues, and we know the
land of our home. Heaven speaks to us in our native tongue, in the
voice of the Bird of Popular Song. The old remembrances awake, the
faded colors glow with a fresh lustre, and story and song pour us a
blessed draught which lifts up our minds and our thoughts, so that the
evening becomes as a Christmas festival.
The snow-flakes chase each other, the ice cracks, the storm
rules without, for he has the might, he is lord- but not the LORD OF
ALL.
The snow-flakes chase each other, the ice cracks, the storm
rules without, for he has the might, he is lord- but not the LORD OF
ALL.
It is winter time. The wind is sharp as a two-edged sword, the
snow-flakes chase each other; it seems as though it had been snowing
for days and weeks, and the snow lies like a great mountain over the
whole town, like a heavy dream of the winter night. Everything on
the earth is hidden away, only the golden cross of the church, the
symbol of faith, arises over the snow grave, and gleams in the blue
air and in the bright sunshine.
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Alfred decided to take a bust of Kaela as well
as of her mother. They sat to him accordingly, and saw how he
moulded and formed the soft clay with his fingers.
"I suppose it is only on our account that you perform this
common-place work yourself, instead of leaving it to your servant to
do all that sticking together."
"It is really necessary that I should mould the clay myself," he
replied.
"Ah, yes, you are always so polite," said mamma, with a smile; and
Kaela silently pressed his hand, all soiled as it was with the clay.
Then he unfolded to them both the beauties of Nature, in all her
works; he pointed out to them how, in the scale of creation, inanimate
matter was inferior to animate nature; the plant above the mineral,
the animal above the plant, and man above them all. He strove to
show them how the beauty of the mind could be displayed in the outward
form, and that it was the sculptor's task to seize upon that beauty of
expression, and produce it in his works. Kaela stood silent, but
nodded in approbation of what he said, while mamma-in-law made the
following confession:-
"It is difficult to follow you; but I go hobbling along after
you with my thoughts, though what you say makes my head whirl round
and round.
Kaela stood silent, but
nodded in approbation of what he said, while mamma-in-law made the
following confession:-
"It is difficult to follow you; but I go hobbling along after
you with my thoughts, though what you say makes my head whirl round
and round. Still I contrive to lay hold on some of it."
Kaela's beauty had a firm hold on Alfred; it filled his soul,
and held a mastery over him. Beauty beamed from Kaela's every feature,
glittered in her eyes, lurked in the corners of her mouth, and
pervaded every movement of her agile fingers.
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She was
always sitting on my lap, or riding in the goat-skin on my back; and
in my dreams she always appeared to me.
Two nights after this, other men, armed with knives and muskets,
came into our tent. They were Albanians, brave men, my mother told me.
They only stayed a short time. My sister Anastasia sat on the knee
of one of them; and when they were gone, she had not three, but two
silver coins in her hair- one had disappeared. They wrapped tobacco in
strips of paper, and smoked it; and I remember they were uncertain
as to the road they ought to take.
But they were obliged to go at
last, and my father went with them. Soon after, we heard the sound
of firing. The noise continued, and presently soldiers rushed into our
hut, and took my mother and myself and Anastasia prisoners. They
declared that we had entertained robbers, and that my father had acted
as their guide, and therefore we must now go with them. The corpses of
the robbers, and my father's corpse, were brought into the hut. I
saw my poor dead father, and cried till I fell asleep.
I
saw my poor dead father, and cried till I fell asleep. When I awoke, I
found myself in a prison; but the room was not worse than our own in
the hut. They gave me onions and musty wine from a tarred cask; but we
were not accustomed to much better fare at home. How long we were kept
in prison, I do not know; but many days and nights passed by. We
were set free about Easter-time. I carried Anastasia on my back, and
we walked very slowly; for my mother was very weak, and it is a long
way to the sea, to the Gulf of Lepanto.
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And his mother said,
"His father dreamt that Peter came home from the war with a silver
cross. He did not gain one in the war, but it is still more
difficult to gain one in this way. Now he has the cross of honor. If
his father had only lived to see it!"
"He's grown famous!" said the Fire-drum, and all his native town
said the same thing, for the drummer's son, Peter with the red hair-
Peter whom they had known as a little boy, running about in wooden
shoes, and then as a drummer, playing for the dancers- was become
famous!
"He played at our house before he played in the presence of
kings," said the burgomaster's wife.
"At that time he was quite
smitten with Charlotte. He was always of an aspiring turn. At that
time he was saucy and an enthusiast. My husband laughed when he
heard of the foolish affair, and now our Charlotte is a state
councillor's wife."
A golden treasure had been hidden in the heart and soul of the
poor child, who had beaten the roll as a drummer- a roll of victory
for those who had been ready to retreat. There was a golden treasure
in his bosom, the power of sound; it burst forth on his violin as if
the instrument had been a complete organ, and as if all the elves of a
midsummer night were dancing across the strings.
There was a golden treasure
in his bosom, the power of sound; it burst forth on his violin as if
the instrument had been a complete organ, and as if all the elves of a
midsummer night were dancing across the strings. In its sounds were
heard the piping of the thrush and the full clear note of the human
voice; therefore the sound brought rapture to every heart, and carried
his name triumphant through the land. That was a great firebrand-
the firebrand of inspiration.
"And then he looks so splendid!" said the young ladies and the old
ladies too; and the oldest of all procured an album for famous locks
of hair, wholly and solely that she might beg a lock of his rich
splendid hair, that treasure, that golden treasure.
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