The next day at dinner, after the journeymen had gone, Hediger informed his son and his wife of the solemn decision of the day before, that from now on no romance between Karl and the carpenter's daughter would be tolerated. Mrs. Hediger, the "Gunsmithy," was so tempted to laugh by this decree that the last drop of wine in her glass, which she was just about to swallow, got into her windpipe and caused a terrible fit of coughing.
"What is there to laugh at about that?" said Master Hediger irritatedly.
His wife answered: "Oh, I can't help laughing because the adage 'a cobbler should stick to his last' fits your club so well. Why don't you stick to politics instead of meddling with love affairs?"
"You laugh like a woman and talk like a woman," replied Hediger, very much in earnest, "it is just in the family that true politics begin; we are political friends, it is true, but in order to remain so it is necessary that we should not mix our families up, and treat the wealth of one as common property. I am poor and Frymann is rich, and so it shall remain; we enjoy our inward equality so much the more. And now, shall a marriage be the means of my sticking my finger into his house and his affairs, and arousing jealousy and embarrassment? Far be it from me!"
"Oh my, my, what wonderful principles!" answered Mrs. Hediger; "that's a fine friendship when one friend won't give his daughter to the son of the other! And since when has it meant treating wealth as common property when prosperity is brought into a family through marriage? Is it a reprehensible policy when a fortunate son succeeds in winning a rich and beautiful girl, because he thus attains to property and prominence, and is able to assist his aged parents and brothers, and help them to a place in the sun? For where once good fortune has entered it easily spreads, and without doing any damage to the one, the others can skilfully throw out their hooks in his shade. Not that I am looking for a life of luxury! But there are very many cases in which it is right and proper that a man who has become rich should be consulted by his poor relatives. We old people shall need nothing more; on the other hand, the time might come perhaps, when one or another of Karl's brothers might venture on a promising enterprise, or make a fortunate change if someone would lend him the means. And one or another of them will have a talented son who would rise to great things, if there was money enough to send him to the university. One might perhaps become a popular physician, another a prominent lawyer or even a judge, another an engineer or an artist, and all of them, once they had got so far, would find it easy to marry well, and so at last would form a respected, numerous, and happy family. What could be more natural than to have a prosperous uncle who, without harming himself, could throw open the doors of the world to his industrious but poor relatives? For how often does it happen that, owing to the presence in a family of one fortunate member, all the others get a taste of the world and grow wise? And will you drive in the bung on all these things and seal good fortune at its source?"
Hediger gave a laugh, full of annoyance, and cried,
"Castles in the air! You talk like the peasant woman with her milk pail! I see a different picture of the man who has become rich among his poor relatives. He, it is true, denies himself nothing and has always thousands of ideas and desires which he gratifies, and which lead him to spend money on thousands of occasions. But let his parents and his brothers come to him, down he sits at his account book, looking important and vexed, sighs, and says, with his pen between his teeth: 'Thank God that you haven't the trouble and burden of administering such a fortune. I'd rather herd goats than watch a pack of spiteful and procrastinating debtors! No money coming in from any of them, and all of them trying to get out of paying and slip through my fingers. Day and night you have to be on the lookout that you are not cheated right and left. And if ever you do get a scoundrel by the collar, he sets up such a howl that you have to let him go in a hurry, or be decried as a usurer and a monster. Every official paper, every notice of days of expiration, every announcement, every advertisement has to be read over and over, or you will miss some petition or overlook some term. And there's never any money on hand. If someone repays a loan, he lays his money bag on the table in all the taverns in town and announces with a swagger that he's paid, and before he's out of the house there are three others waiting to borrow the money, one of whom even wants it without giving security! And then the demands made on you by the community, the charitable institutions, public enterprises, subscription lists of all kinds--they can't be avoided, your position demands it; but I can tell you, you often don't know whether you are standing on your head or your heels. This year I'm harder pressed even than usual; I've had my garden improved and a balcony built on to the house, my wife has been wanting to have it done for a long time, and now here are the bills. My physician has advised me a hundred times to keep a saddle horse--I can't even think of it, for new expenses keep coming up to prevent. Look there, see the little winepress, of the most modern construction, that I had built so that I could press out the Muscatel grapes that I grow on trellises--God knows, I can't pay for it this year. Well, my credit is still good, thank Heaven.'
"That is the way he talks with a cruel boast underlying all his words and thus so intimidates his poor brothers and his old father that they say nothing about their request, and take themselves off again after admiring his garden and his balcony and his ingenious wine-press. And they go to strangers for help and gladly pay higher interest simply to avoid listening to so much chatter. His children are handsomely and expensively dressed, and tread the streets daintily; they bring their poor cousins little presents and come twice a year to invite them to dinner, and that is a great lark for the rich children; but when the guests lose their shyness and even begin to be noisy, their pockets are filled with apples and they are sent home. There they tell all that they have seen and what they had to eat and everything is criticized; for rancor and envy fill the hearts of the poor sisters-in-law who flatter the prosperous member of the family notwithstanding, and are eloquent in their praise of her fine clothes. Finally some misfortune overtakes the father or the brothers and, whether he will or not, the rich man has to step into the breach for the sake of the family reputation. And he does so without much persuasion; but now the bond of brotherly equality and love is completely severed. The poorer brothers and their children are now the servants and slave-children of the master; year in, year out they are nagged at and corrected, they have to wear coarse clothing and eat black bread in order to make up a small part of the damage. The children are sent to orphan asylums and schools for the poor, and if they are strong enough they have to work in the master's house and sit at the lower end of the table in silence."
"Phew!" cried Mrs. Hediger, "what a tale! And do you really think that your own son here would be such a scoundrel? And has Fate ordained that just his brothers should meet with misfortunes that would make them his servants? They, who have always managed to take care of themselves till now? No, for the honor of our own blood I believe that a rich marriage would not turn all our heads like that, but that, on the contrary, my view would prove to be right."
"I don't mean to assert," replied Hediger, "that it would be just that way with us; but in our family too we should introduce outward differences and in time they would be followed by inward inequality; he who aspires to wealth, aspires to rise above his equals--"
"Bosh!" interrupted his wife, taking up the table cloth and shaking it out the window; "has Frymann, who actually owns the property that we are quarrelling about, grown any different from the rest of you? Aren't you of one mind and one heart and always putting your heads together?"
"That's different," cried her husband, "entirely different. He didn't get his property by scheming, nor win it in the lottery, but acquired it slowly franc by franc through the toil of forty years. And then we are not brothers, he and I, and are not concerned in each other's affairs, and that's the way we want it to continue, that's the point. And finally, he is not like other people, he is still one of the Staunch and Upright. But don't let us keep on considering only these petty personal affairs. Fortunately there are no tremendously rich people among us, prosperity is fairly well distributed; but let men with many millions spring up, men with political ambition, and you'll see how much mischief they do. There is the well-known spinner-king; he really has millions and is often accused of being an indifferent citizen and a miser, because he doesn't concern himself with public matters. On the contrary, he is a good citizen who consistently lets everyone go his own way, governs himself, and lives like any other man. But let this goldbug be a politically ambitious genius, give him some amiability, pleasure in ostentation and love of all sorts of theatrical pomp, let him build palaces and institutions and then see what harm he would do in the community, and how he would ruin the character of the people. There will come a time when, in our country, as elsewhere, large masses of money will accumulate without having been honestly earned and saved; then it will be for us to show our teeth to the devil; then it will be seen whether the bunting of our flag is made of fast colors and strong thread. To put it briefly, I don't see why a son of mine should stretch out his hand for another's goods, without having done a stroke to earn them. That's a fraud as much as anything is!"
"It's a fraud that's as old as the world," said his wife, laughing, "for two people who love each other to want to marry. All your long and high-sounding words won't change that. Moreover, you are the only one to be made a fool of; for Master Frymann is wisely trying to prevent your children from becoming equal to his. But the children will have a policy of their own and will carry it out if there's anything in the affair, and that I don't know."
"Let them," said Master Hediger; "that's their business; mine is, not to favor anything of the sort, and in any case to refuse my consent as long as Karl is a minor."
With this diplomatic declaration and the latest number of the "Republican" he withdrew to his study. Mrs. Hediger, on the contrary, now wanted to get hold of her son and satisfy her curiosity by calling him to account; but she suddenly discovered that he had made off, as the whole discussion seemed to him to be absolutely superfluous and useless, and he did not care, in any case, to talk over his love affairs with his parents.
So much the earlier did he get into his little boat that evening and row out to where he had been on many previous evenings. But he sang his little song once and twice, and even through to the last verse without anyone showing herself, and after rowing up and down in front of the lumber yard for more than an hour in vain, he went back puzzled and depressed, and thought his affair was really in a bad way. On the following four or five evenings he had the same experience, and then gave up trying to meet the faithless girl, as he took her to be; for although he remembered her resolution only to see him once in four weeks, he thought that to be merely the preparation for a final rupture, and fell into indignant sadness. Hence the practice period for the sharpshooter recruits, which was just about to begin, came at a very welcome time. On several afternoons beforehand he went out to the range with an acquaintance who was a marksman to get at least a little practice, and be able to show the number of hits necessary for his application. His father looked on at this rather scornfully, and unexpectedly came to the range himself to dissuade his son in time from carrying out his foolish purpose, if, as he supposed, Karl knew nothing about shooting.
But he happened to get there just as Karl, with half a dozen misses behind him, was making a number of rather good shots.
"You needn't tell me," said Hediger astonished, "that you've never shot before; you've secretly spent many a franc on it, that's sure."
"I have shot secretly, that's true, but at no cost. Do you know where, father?"
"I thought as much!"
"Even as a boy I often watched the shooting, listened to what the men said about it, and for years have so longed to do it that I used to dream about it, and after I had gone to bed I used to spend hours aiming at a target, and in that way I've fired hundreds of good shots."
"That's capital! At that rate, they'll order whole companies of riflemen into bed in the future, and put them through such a mental drill; that'll save powder and shoe leather."
"It's not so ridiculous as it sounds," said the experienced marksman who was teaching Karl, "it is certain that, of two riflemen who are equally gifted as regards eye and hand, the one who is accustomed to reflection will outstrip the other. Pulling the trigger requires an inborn knack and there are very peculiar things about it as there are about all exercises."
The oftener and the better Karl shot, the more did old Hediger shake his head; the world seemed to him to be turned upside down, for he himself had only attained to what he was and knew how to do by industry and strenuous practice; even his principles, which people often pack into their minds as easily and numerously as herrings, had only been acquired by persevering study in his little back room. Now, however, he no longer ventured to interfere, and departed, not without inward satisfaction at numbering among his sons one of his country's sharpshooters; and by the time he had reached home he was resolved to make Karl a well-fitting uniform of good cloth. "Of course, he will have to pay for it," he said to himself, but he knew in his heart that he never asked his sons to repay anything, and that they never offered to do so. That is wholesome for parents, and enables them to reach a good old age when they can see how their children in turn are merrily fleeced by their grandchildren, and so it goes down from father to son, and all survive and enjoy good appetites.
Karl now had to go into barracks for several weeks, and developed into a good-looking and trained soldier who, although he was in love and neither saw nor heard anything of his sweetheart, nevertheless attentively and cheerfully performed his duties as long as the daylight lasted; and at night the conversation and jokes of his comrades gave him no chance to brood. There were a dozen of them, young fellows from different districts, who exchanged the tricks and jokes of their homes and continued to make the most of them long after the lights were out and until midnight came on. There was only one from the city besides Karl, and the latter knew him by name. He was a few years older than Karl and had already served as a fusileer. A bookbinder by trade, he had not done a stroke of work for a long time, but lived on the inflated rents of old houses which he cleverly managed to buy without capital. Sometimes he would sell one again to some simpleton at an exorbitant price, then if the purchaser could not hold it he would pocket the forfeit and the paid instalments and again take possession of the house, at the same time raising the rents once more. He was also skilful in making slight changes in the construction of the dwellings, thus enlarging them by the addition of a tiny chamber or little room, so that he might again raise the rent. These alterations were by no means practical or planned for convenience, but quite arbitrary and stupid; he knew, too, all the bunglers among the artisans, who did the worst and cheapest work and with whom he could do as he liked. When he could think of absolutely nothing else to do, he would have the outside of one of his old buildings whitewashed and ask a still higher rent. By these methods he enjoyed a good annual income without doing an hour's actual work. His errands and appointments did not take long, and he would spend as much time in front of other people's buildings as before his own reconstructed shanties, play the expert and give advice about everything. In all other matters he was the stupidest fellow in the world. Hence he was considered a shrewd and prosperous young man who would make an early success in life, and he denied himself nothing. He considered himself too good for an infantry private and had wanted to become an officer. But there he had failed owing to his laziness and ignorance, and now by obstinate and importunate persistence he had got into the sharpshooters.
Here he sought to force himself into a position of respect, without exerting himself, solely with the aid of his money. He was forever inviting the non-commissioned officers and his comrades to eat and drink with him, and thought that by clumsy liberality he could obtain privileges and freedom. But he only succeeded in making himself a laughing-stock, though, to be sure, he did enjoy a sort of indulgence, in that the others soon gave up trying to make anything out of him and let him go his own way as long as he did not bother the rest.
A single recruit attached himself to him and acted as his servant, cleaned his arms and clothes and spoke in his defence. This was the tight-fisted son of a rich peasant, who had always a frightful appetite for food and drink whenever he could satisfy it at another's expense. He thought heaven would be his reward if he could carry back home all his shining silver and still be able to say he had lived merrily during his service and caroused like a true sharpshooter; at the same time he was jolly and good-natured and entertained his patron, who had much less voice than he, with his thin falsetto in which, from behind his bottle, he sang all sorts of popular country songs very oddly indeed; for he was a merry miser. And so Ruckstuhl, the young extortioner, and Spörri, the young skinflint, lived on in glorious friendship. The former always had meat and wine before him and did as he chose, and the latter left him as little as possible, sang and cleaned his boots and did not even scorn the tips that the other gave.
Meanwhile the others made fun of them and agreed among themselves that they would not tolerate Ruckstuhl in any company. This did not apply to his factotum, however, for, strangely enough, he was a good shot, and anyone who knows his business is welcome in the army whether he be a Philistine or a scamp.
Karl was foremost in making fun of the pair; but one night he lost his desire to joke, when the wine-gladdened Ruckstuhl boasted to his follower, after the room had grown quiet, of what a fine gentleman he was and of how he soon expected to marry a rich wife, the daughter of the carpenter Frymann, whom, if he read the signs aright, he could not fail to get.
Karl's peace of mind was now gone, and the next day, as soon as he had a free hour, he went to his parents to find out, by listening, what was going on. But as he did not care to introduce the subject himself, he heard nothing of Hermine until just before he went, when his mother told him she had wanted to be remembered to him.
"Why, where did you see her?" he asked as indifferently as he could.
"Oh, she comes to the market every day now with the maid to learn how to buy supplies. She always asks me for advice when we meet and then we make the rounds of the market and find a lot to laugh at; for she's always in good spirits."
"Oh, ho!" said Hediger, "so that's why you stay out so long sometimes! And it's match-making that you are up to? Do you think it's fitting for a mother to behave like that, running around with people who are forbidden to her son, and carrying messages?"
"Forbidden people! Nonsense! Haven't I known the dear child since she was a baby and I carried her in my arms? And now I'm not to associate with her! And why shouldn't she ask to be remembered to the people in our house? And why shouldn't a mother take such a message? And may not a mother be allowed to make a match for her child? It seems to me that she's the very person to do it! But we never talk about such things, we women are not half so keen about you ill-mannered men, and if Hermine takes my advice she won't marry anyone."
Karl did not wait for the end of the conversation, but went his way; for she had sent him a message and there had been no mention of any suspicious news. Only he did tap his forehead, puzzled by Hermine's good spirits, for it was not like her to laugh so much. He finally decided it was a sign in his favor and she had been merry because she had met his mother. So he resolved to keep quiet, have faith in the girl, and let things take their course.
A few days later Hermine came to visit Mrs. Hediger, bringing her knitting with her, and there was so much cordiality, talking, and laughing that Hediger, cutting out a frock coat in his workshop, was almost disturbed and wondered what old gossip could be there. Still, he did not pay much attention to it till finally he heard his wife go to a cupboard and begin to rattle the blue coffee set. For the "Gunsmithy" was making as good a pot of coffee as she had ever brewed; she also took a good handful of sage leaves, dipped them in an egg-batter and fried them in butter, thus making so-called little mice, since the stems of the leaves looked like mouse-tails. They rose beautifully and made a heaping dish full, the fragrance of which, together with that of the fresh coffee ascended to Master Hediger above. When, finally, he heard her pounding sugar he became highly impatient to be called to the table; but he would not have gone one moment earlier, for he belonged to the Staunch and Upright. As he now entered the room he saw his wife and the graceful "forbidden person" sitting in close friendship behind the coffee-pot and, moreover, it was the blue-flowered coffee-pot; and besides the little mice there was butter on the table and the blue-flowered pot full of honey; it was not real honey, to be sure, but only cherry-jam, about the color of Herrnine's eyes; and it was Saturday too, a day on which all respectable middle-class women scrub and scour, clean and polish, and never cook a bite that's fit to eat.
Hediger looked very critically at the whole scene and his greeting was rather stern; but Hermine was so charming and at the same time so resolute that he sat there as if muzzled and ended by going himself to get a "glass of wine" out of the cellar and even drawing it from the small keg. Hermine responded to this mark of favor by declaring that she must have a plate of mice kept for Karl, as he probably didn't get very good things to eat in the barracks. She took her plate and pulled out the finest mice by their tails with her own dainty fingers and kept on piling them up till at last Karl's mother herself cried that it was enough. Hermine then put the plate beside her, looked at it with satisfaction from time to time, and occasionally picked out a piece and ate it, saying that she was Karl's guest now; after which she would conscientiously replace the plunder from the dish.
Finally it got to be too much for the worthy Hediger; he scratched his head and, urgent though his work was, hastily put on his coat and hurried forth to seek the father of the little sinner.
"We must look out," he said to him; "your daughter and my old woman are sitting at home in all their glory, hand in glove, and it all looks mighty suspicious to me; you know women are the very devil."
"Why don't you chase the young scallywag off?" said Frymann, annoyed.
"I chase her off? Not I; she's a regular witch! Just come along yourself and attend to her."
"Good, I'll come along with you and make the girl thoroughly understand how she's to behave."
When they got there, however, instead of Miss Hermine they found Karl, the sharpshooter, who had unbuttoned his green waistcoat and was enjoying his mice and what wine there was left all the more because his mother had just happened to mention that Hermine was going rowing on the lake again that evening as it would be bright moonlight and she hadn't been on the lake for a month.
Karl started out on the lake all the earlier because he had to be back in barracks at the sound of "taps," blown in heavenly harmonies by the Zurich buglers on beautiful spring and summer evenings. It was not yet quite dark when he reached the lumber yard; but alas, Master Frymann's skiff was not floating in the water as usual; it lay bottom up, on two blocks, about ten yards from the shore.
Was that a hoax, or a trick of the old man's, he wondered and, disappointed and angry, he was just about to row off when the great, golden moon rose out of the woods on Mt. Zurich and at the same time Hermine stepped out from behind a blossoming willow that hung full of yellow cattails.
"I didn't know that our boat was being freshly painted," she whispered, "so I'll have to come into yours, row fast!" And she sprang lightly in, and sat down at the other end of the skiff which was scarcely seven feet long. They rowed out till they were beyond the range of any spying eye and Karl began at once to call Hermine to account as regarded Ruckstuhl, telling her of the latter's words and acts.
"I know," she said, "that this cavalier wants to marry me and that, in fact, my father is not disinclined to consent; he has already spoken of it."
"Is he possessed of the devil to want to give you to such a vagabond and loafer? What's become of his weighty principles?"
Hermine shrugged her shoulders and said: "Father is full of the idea of building a number of houses and speculating with them; for that reason, he wants a son-in-law who can be of assistance to him in such matters, particularly in speculating, and who will know that he is working for his own advantage in furthering the whole enterprise. He has in mind that he wants someone with whom he can take pleasure in working and scheming, as he would have done with a son of his own, and now this fellow appears to him to have just that kind of talent. All he needs, father says, to make him a practical expert, is a thorough business life. Father knows nothing of the foolish way he lives because he doesn't watch other people's doings and never goes anywhere except to his old friends. In short, as to-morrow is Sunday, Ruckstuhl has been invited to dine with us, to strengthen the acquaintance, and I'm afraid that he will plunge right into a proposal. Besides, I've heard that he's a wretched flatterer and an impudent fellow when he's trying to grab something that he wants."
"Oh well," said Karl, "you'll easily out-trump him."
"And I'll do it too; but it would be better if he didn't come at all and left my papa in the lurch."
"Of course that would be better; but it's a pious wish, he'll take good care not to stay away."
"I've thought of a plan, though it's rather a queer one to be sure. Couldn't you lead him into doing something foolish to-day or early to-morrow morning so that you'd both be sent to the guard-room for twenty-four or forty-eight hours?"
"You're very kind to want to send me to the lock-up for a couple of days just to spare you a refusal. Won't you do it cheaper?"
"It's necessary that you should share his suffering so that we may not have too much on our consciences. As for my refusal, I don't want it to come to the point where I shall have to say yes or no to the fellow; it's bad enough that he should talk about me in the barracks. I don't want him to get a step beyond that."
"You're right, sweetheart! Nevertheless I think the rascal will have to be locked up alone; a scheme is beginning to dawn on me. But enough of that, it's a pity to waste our precious time and the golden moonlight. Doesn't it remind you of anything?"
"What should it remind me of?"
"Of the fact that we haven't seen each other for four weeks and that you can hardly expect to set foot ashore again to-night unkissed."
"Oh, so you would like to kiss me?"
"Yes, even I; but there's no hurry, I know you can't escape. I want to enjoy the anticipation a few minutes longer, perhaps five, or six at the most."
"Oh, indeed! Is that the way you repay my confidence in you, and do you really care much about it? Wouldn't you consider a bargain?"
"Not though you spoke with the eloquence of an angel, not for a minute! There's no way out of it for you to-night, my lady."
"Then I will also make a declaration, my dear sir. If you so much as touch me with the tips of your fingers to-night against my will, it's all over between us and I will never see you again; I swear it by Heaven and my own honor. For I am in earnest."
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. "That will take care of itself," replied Karl, "I'm coming soon now, so keep still."
"Do as you like," said Hermine curtly and was silent.
But whether it was that he thought her capable of keeping her word, or whether he himself did not want her to break her vow, he stayed obediently in his seat and gazed at her with shining eyes, peering to see by the moonlight if the corners of her mouth were not twitching and she were not laughing at him.
"Then I shall have to console myself with the past again and let my memories compensate me," he began after a brief silence; "who would believe that those stern and firmly closed lips knew how to kiss so sweetly years ago!"
"You mean to begin on your shameless inventions again, do you? But let me tell you that I won't listen to such irritating nonsense any longer."
"Be calm! Just this once more we will direct our gaze back to those golden hours and more particularly to the last kiss that you gave me; I remember the circumstances as clearly and distinctly as if it were to-day, and I am sure that you do too. I was thirteen and you about ten and it was several years since we had kissed each other, for we felt very old and grown-up. But there was to be a pleasant ending after all--or was it the lark, the herald of the morn? It was a beautiful Whitmonday--"
"No, Ascension--" interrupted Hermine, but broke off in the middle of the word.
"You are right, it was a glorious Ascension Day in the month of May and we were on an excursion with a party of young people, we two being the only children among them; you stuck close to the big girls and I to the older boys and we disdained to play with each other or even to talk. After we had walked hither and yon we sat down in a bright grove of tall trees and began to play forfeits; for evening was coming on and the party did not want to go home without a few kisses. Two of them were condemned to kiss each other with flowers in their mouths without dropping them. After they, and the couple that tried it after them, had failed, you suddenly came running up to me without a trace of embarrassment, with a lily-of-the-valley in your mouth, stuck another between my lips and said, 'Try it!' Sure enough, both blossoms fell to join their sisters on the ground, but, in your eagerness, you kissed me all the same. It felt as if a beautiful, light-winged butterfly had alighted, and involuntarily I put up two finger-tips to catch it. The others thought I wanted to wipe my lips and laughed at me."
"Here we are at the shore," said Hermine and jumped out. Then she turned round again pleasantly to Karl.
"Because you sat so still and treated my word with the respect due to it," she said, "I will, if necessary, go out with you again before four weeks have passed and will write you a note to say when. That will be the first writing I have ever confided to you."
With that she hurried to the house. Karl rowed rapidly to the public landing so as not to miss the blast of the worthy buglers that pierced the mild air like a jagged razor.
On his way through the street he encountered Ruckstuhl and Spörri who were slightly tipsy; greeting them pleasantly and familiarly, he grasped the former by the arm and began to praise and flatter him.
"What the devil have you been up to again? What new trick have you been planning, you schemer? You're certainly the grandest sharpshooter in the whole canton, in all Switzerland, Ishouldsay."
"Thundering guns!" cried Ruckstuhl, highly flattered that someone else besides Spörri should make up to him and compliment him, "it's a shame that we have to turn in so soon. Haven't we time to drink a bottle of good wine together?"
"Sst! We can do that in our room. It's the custom among the sharpshooters anyway to take in the officers, at least once during their service and secretly carouse in their room all night. We're only recruits, but we'll show them that we're worthy of the carbine."
"That would be a great lark! I'll pay for the wine as sure as my name is Ruckstuhl! But we must be sly and crafty as serpents, or we'll do for ourselves."
"Don't worry, we're just the boys for this sort of thing. We'll turn in quite quietly and innocently and make no noise."
When they reached the barracks their room-mates were all in the canteen drinking a night-cap. Karl confided in a few of them, who passed the tidings on, and so each of them provided himself with a few bottles which, one after the other, they carried out unnoticed and hid under their cots. In their room they quietly went to bed at ten o'clock to wait till the rounds had been made to see if the lights were out. They then all got up again, hung coats over the windows, lighted the lights, brought out the wine and began a regular drinking bout. Ruckstuhl felt as if he were in paradise, for they all drank to him and toasted him as a great man. His ardent desire to be considered somebody in military as well as in civil life without doing anything to deserve it made him stupider than he naturally was. When he and his henchman seemed to have been put completely out of business, various drinking feats were carried out. One of the men, while standing on his head, had to drink a ladle of wine which someone else held to his lips; another, seated in a chair, with a bullet suspended from the ceiling swinging round his head, had to drink three glasses before the bullet touched his head; a third had some other trick to perform, and on all who failed some droll penalty was imposed. All this was done in perfect silence; whoever made a noise also did penance, and they were all in their nightshirts so that, if surprised, they could crawl quickly into bed. Now as the time approached when the officer would make his rounds through the corridors, the two friends were also assigned a drinking-feat. Each was to balance a full glass on the flat of his sword and hold it to the other's mouth and each had to drain the glass so held without spilling a drop. They drew their short-swords with a swagger and crossed the blades with the glasses on them; but they trembled so that both glasses fell off and they did not get a drop. They were, therefore, sentenced to stand guard outside the door, in "undress uniform," for fifteen minutes, and this prank was admiringly said to be the boldest ever carried out in those barracks within the memory of man. Their haversacks and short-swords were hung crosswise over their shirts, they were made to put on their shakoes and blue leggings, but no shoes, and thus, their rifles in their hands, they were led out and posted one on either side of the door. They were scarcely there before the others bolted the door, removed all traces of the carousal, uncovered the windows, put out the lights and slipped into bed as if they had been asleep for hours. In the meantime the two sentries marched up and down in the gleam of the corridor-lamp, their rifles on their shoulders, and looked about them with bold glances. Spörri, filled with bliss because he had been able to get drunk at no expense, grew quite reckless and suddenly began to sing, and that hastened the steps of the officer on duty who was already on the way. As he approached they tried to slip quickly into the room; but they couldn't open the door and before they could think of anything else to do the enemy was upon them. Now everything whirled through their heads in a mad dance. In their confusion each placed himself at his post, presented arms and cried, "Who goes there?"
"In the name of all that's holy, what does this mean? What are you doing there?" cried the officer on duty, but without receiving a sufficient answer, for the two clowns could not get out a sensible word. The officer quickly opened the door and looked into the room, for Karl who had been straining his ears, had hopped hastily out of bed, pushed back the bolt and as hastily hopped in again. When the officer saw that everything was dark and quiet and heard nothing but puffing and snoring, he cried, "Hallo there, men!"
"Go to the devil!" cried Karl, "and get to bed, you drunkards!" The others also pretended that they had been wakened and cried,
"Aren't those beasts in bed yet? Turn them out, call the guard!"
"He's here, I'm he," said the officer, "one of you light a light, quick."
This was done, and when the light fell on the two buffoons peals of laughter came from under all the bedclothes as if the entire company were taken utterly by surprise. Ruckstuhl and Spörri joined crazily in the laughter and marched up and down holding their sides, for their minds had now taken a tack in a different direction. Ruckstuhl repeatedly snapped his fingers in the officer's face and Spörri stuck out his tongue at him. When the derided officer saw that there was nothing to be done with the joyful pair, he took out his pad and wrote down their names. Now, as ill-luck would have it, he happened to live in one of Ruckstuhl's houses and had not yet paid the rent--due at Easter which was just over--it might be because he was not in funds or because he had been too busy while on military duty to attend to it. In any case, Ruckstuhl's evil genius suddenly hit on this fact and, reeling towards the officer, he laughed foolishly and stuttered,
"P-pay your d-debts fir-firsht, m-mister, before you t-ta-take down peo-people's namesh. You know!"
Spörri laughed still louder, lurched and staggered back like a crab and, shaking his head, piped shrilly,
"P-p-pay your d-debts, mister, that-tha-that is well s-said."
"Four of you get up," said the officer quietly, "and take these men to the guard-house, see that they're well locked up at once. In about three days we'll see if they have slept this off yet. Throw their cloaks over their shoulders and let them take their trousers on their arms. March!"
"T-t-t-trousers," shouted Ruckstuhl, "th-that's what we need; there's sh-sh-shtill s-something left to fa-fall out--if-you-shake-them."
"If you sh-sh-shake them, mister," repeated Spörri and both of them swung their trousers about till the coins jingled in the pockets. So they marched off with their escort, laughing and shouting, through the corridors and down the stairs and soon disappeared in a cellar-like room in the basement, whereupon it grew quiet.
The following day at noon. Master Frymann's table was more elaborately set than usual. Hermine filled the cut-glass decanters with the vintage of '46, put a shining glass at every place, laid a handsome napkin on every plate, and cut up a fresh loaf from the bakery at the sign of the Hen where they baked an old-fashioned kind of bread for high days and holidays, the delight of all the children in Zurich and of the women who sat gossiping over their afternoon coffee-cups. She also sent an apprentice, dressed in his Sunday best, to the pastry-cook's to fetch the macaroni pie and the coffee cake, and finally she arranged the dessert on a small side table: little curled cookies, and wafers, the pound cake, the little "cocked hats," and the conical raisin loaf. Frymann, pleasantly affected by the beautiful Sunday weather, interpreted his daughter's zeal to mean that she did not intend seriously to resist his plans, and he said to himself with amusement, "They're all like that! As soon as an acceptable and definite opportunity offers itself they make haste to seize it by the forelock!"
According to ancient custom Mr. Ruckstuhl was invited for twelve o'clock sharp. When, at a quarter past, he was not yet there, Frymann said,
"We will begin; we must accustom this cavalier to punctuality from the start."
And when the soup was finished and Ruckstuhl had still not arrived the master called in the apprentices and the maidservant who were eating by themselves that day and had already half done, and said to them:
"Sit down and eat with us, we don't want to sit staring at all this food. Pitch in and enjoy yourselves,
'Whoever late to dinner comesMust eat what's left or suck his thumbs.'"
'Whoever late to dinner comesMust eat what's left or suck his thumbs.'"
There was no need to ask them a second time, and they were jolly and in good spirits, and Hermine was the merriest of all, and her appetite grew better and better the more annoyed and displeased her father became.
"The fellow seems to be a boor!" he growled to himself, but she heard it and said:
"He probably couldn't get leave; we mustn't judge him too hastily."
"Not get leave! Are you ready to defend him already? Why shouldn't he get leave if he cares anything about it?"
He finished his meal in the worst of humors and, contrary to his habit, went at once to a coffee-house simply that he should not be at home if the negligent suitor should finally come. Towards four o'clock, instead of joining the Seven as usual, he came home again, curious to see whether Ruckstuhl had put in an appearance. As he came through the garden, there sat Mrs. Hediger with Hermine in the summer-house, as it was a warm spring day, and they were drinking coffee and eating the "cocked hats" and the raisin loaf and seemed to be in high spirits. He said good afternoon to Mrs. Hediger, and although it annoyed him to see her there, he asked her at once whether she had no news from the barracks, and if all the sharpshooters had not perhaps gone on an excursion.
"I think not," said Mrs. Hediger, "they were at church this morning and afterwards Karl came home to dinner; we had roast mutton and that is a dish he never deserts."
"Did he say nothing about Mr. Ruckstuhl or mention where he had gone?"
"Mr. Ruckstuhl? Yes, he and another recruit are in close confinement for getting dreadfully intoxicated and insulting their superiors; they say it was a most laughable scene."
"The devil take him!" said Frymann and straightway departed. Half an hour later he was saying to Hediger:
"Now it's your wife who is sitting with my daughter in the garden and rejoicing with her that my plan for a marriage has been wrecked."
"Why don't you drive her away? Why didn't you growl at her?"
"How can I, in view of our old friendship? You see, how these confounded affairs are already confusing our relations with one another. Therefore let us stand firm! No kinship for us!"
"No kinship indeed!" corroborated Hediger, and shook his friend by the hand.
July, and with it the National Shooting Match of 1849, was now scarcely a fortnight distant. The Seven held another meeting; for the cup and banner were finished and had to be inspected and approved. The banner was raised aloft and set up in the room, and in its shadow there now took place the stormiest session that had ever stirred the Upright Seven. For the fact suddenly became apparent that a banner carried in a presentation procession involves a speaker, and it was the choice of the latter that nearly wrecked the little boat with its crew of seven, Each in turn was chosen thrice, and thrice did each in turn most decisively decline. They were all indignant that none would consent, and it made each of them angry to think that just he should be picked out to bear this burden and do this unheard-of thing. As eagerly as other men come forward when it's a question of taking the floor and airing their view's, just so timidly did these men avoid speaking in public, and each plead his unfitness, and declared that he had never in his life done anything of the kind and never would. For they still believed speechmaking to be an honorable art requiring both talent and study, and they cherished an unreserved and honest respect for good orators who could touch them, and accepted everything that such a man said as true and sacred. They distinguished these orators sharply from themselves and imposed upon themselves the meritorious duty of attentive listeners, to consider conscientiously, to agree or to reject, and this seemed to them a sufficiently honorable task.
So when it appeared that no speaker was procurable by vote, a tumult and general uproar arose, in which each tried to convince another that he was the man who should sacrifice himself. They picked out Hediger and Frymann in particular and vigorously assaulted them. They, however, resisted forcibly, and each tried to shift it to the other till Frymann called for silence and said:
"My friends! We have made a thoughtless mistake and now we cannot fail to see that, after all, we had better leave our banner-at home; so let us quickly decide to do that and attend the festival without any fuss."
Heavy gloom settled down on them at these words.
"He's right!" said Kuser, the silversmith.
"There's nothing else for us to do," added Syfrig, the ploughmaker.
But Bürgi cried: "We can't do that; people know what we intend to do and that the banner is made. If we give it up the story will go down to history."
"That's true, too," said Erismann, the innkeeper, "and our old adversaries, the reactionaries, will know how to make the most of the joke."
Their old bones thrilled with terror at such an idea, and once again the company attacked the two most gifted members; they resisted anew and finally threatened to withdraw.
"I am a simple carpenter and will never make a laughing stock of myself," cried Frymann, to which Hediger rejoined:
"Then how can you expect me, a poor tailor, to do it? I should bring ridicule on you all and harm myself, all to no purpose. I propose that one of the innkeepers should be urged to undertake it; they are most accustomed to crowds than any of the rest of us."
But the innkeepers protested vehemently, and Pfister suggested the cabinet-maker because he was a wit and a joker.
"Joker! Not much!" cried Bürgi, "do you call it a joke to address the president of a national festival in the presence of a thousand people?"
A general sigh was the answer to this remark which made them realize the difficulties of the task more vividly than ever.
After this several members rose one by one from the table, and there was a running in and out and a whispering together in the corners. Frymann and Hediger alone remained seated, with gloomy countenances, for they divined that a fresh and deadly assault on them was being planned. Finally, when they were all assembled again, Bürgi stood up before these two and said:
"Kaspar and Daniel! You have both so often spoken to our satisfaction here, in this circle, that either of you, if he only will, can perfectly well make a short, public address. It is the decision of the society that you shall draw lots between you and that the result shall be final. You must yield to a majority of five to two."
Renewed clamor supported these words; the two addressed, looked at each other and finally bowed humbly to the decision, each in the hope that the bitter lot might fall to the other. It fell to Frymann who, for the first time, left a meeting of the Lovers of Liberty with a heavy heart, while Hediger rubbed his hands with delight--so inconsiderate does selfishness make the oldest of friends.
Frymann's pleasure in the approaching festival was now at an end and his days were darkened. He thought constantly of his speech without being able to find a single idea, because he kept seeking for something remote instead of seizing upon what lay near at hand and using it as he would have among his friends. The phrases in which he was accustomed to address them seemed homely to him, and he hunted about in his mind for something out of the ordinary and high-sounding, for a political manifesto, and he did so not from vanity but from a bitter sense of duty. Finally he began to cover a sheet of paper with writing, not without many interruptions, sighs, and curses. With infinite pains he wrote two pages, although he had intended to compose only a few lines; for he could not find a conclusion, and the tortured phrases clung to one another like sticky burrs and held the writer fast in a confused tangle.
With the folded paper in his waistcoat pocket he went worriedly about his business, occasionally stepping behind some shed to read it again and shake his head. At last he confided in his daughter and read the draft to her to see what effect it made. The speech was an accumulation of words that thundered against Jesuits and aristocrats, richly larded with such expressions as "freedom," "human rights," "servitude," and "degradation"; in short it was a bitter and labored declaration of war, in which there was no mention of the Seven and their little banner, and moreover, the composition was clumsy and confused, whereas he usually spoke easily and correctly.
Hermine said it was a very strong speech, but it seemed to her somewhat belated, as the Jesuits and aristocrats had been conquered at last, and she thought a bright and pleasant declaration would be more appropriate since the people were contented and happy.
Frymann was somewhat taken aback and although, even as an old man, the fire of passion was still strong within him, he rubbed his nose and said:
"You may be right, but still you don't quite understand it. A man must use forcible language in public and spread it on thick, like a scene-painter, so to speak, whose work, seen close to, is a crude daub. Still, perhaps I can soften an expression here and there."
"That will be better," continued Hermine, "for there are so many 'therefores' in it. Let me look at it a minute. See, 'therefore' occurs in nearly every other line."
"It's the very devil," he cried, took the paper from her hand and tore it into a hundred pieces. "That's the end of it! I can't do it and I won't make a fool of myself."
But Hermine advised him not to try to write anything, to wait until just about an hour before the presentation and then to settle on some idea and make a brief speech about it on the spur of the moment, as if he were at home.
"That will be best," he replied, "then if it's a failure, at least I have made no false pretenses."
Nevertheless he could not help beginning at once to turn over and torture the idea in his mind without succeeding in giving it form; he went about preoccupied and worried, and Hermine watched him with great satisfaction.
The festival week had come before they knew it, and one morning in the middle of it, the Seven started for Aarau before daybreak in a special omnibus drawn by four horses. The new banner fluttered brightly from the box; on its green silk shone the words, "Friendship in Freedom!" and all the old men were joyful and gay, serious and merry by turns, and Frymann alone appeared to be depressed and dubious.
Hermine was already staying with friends in Aarau, for her father rewarded her perfect housekeeping by taking her with him on all his jaunts; and more than once she had adorned the joyful circle of greybeards like a rosy hyacinth. Karl, too, was already there; although his military service had made demands enough on his time and his money, yet at Hermine's invitation he had gone to the festival on foot, and oddly enough had found quarters near where she was staying; for they had their affair to attend to, and no one could say whether they might not be able to make favorable use of the festival. Incidentally, he also wanted to shoot and, in accordance with his means, carried twenty-five cartridges with him; these he intended to use, no more and no fewer.
He had soon scented the arrival of the Upright Seven and followed them at a distance as, with their little banner, they marched in close order to the festival grounds. The attendance was larger on that day than on any other in the week, the streets were full of people in their best clothes, going and coming; large and small rifle clubs came along with and without bands; but none was as small as that of the Seven. They were obliged to wind their way through the crowd but, taking short paces, they kept in step nevertheless; their fists were closed and their arms hung straight at their sides in military fashion. Frymann marched ahead with the banner, looking as if he were being led to execution. Occasionally he looked from side to side to see if no escape were possible; but his companions, glad that they were not in his shoes, encouraged him and called out to him bracing and pithy words. They were already nearing the festival grounds; the crackling rifle-fire already sounded close by, and high in the air the national marksmen's flag flew in sunny solitude and its silk now stretched out quiveringly to all four corners, now snapped gracefully above the people's heads, now hung down sanctimoniously, close to the staff, for a moment--in short, it indulged in all the sport that a flag can think of in a whole long week, and yet the sight of it stabbed the bearer of the little green banner to the heart.
Karl, seeing the merry flag and stopping to watch it a moment, suddenly lost sight of the little group and when he looked all round for it he could not discover it anywhere; it seemed as if the earth had swallowed it. Quickly he pressed through to the spot and then back to the entrance of the grounds and looked there; no little green banner rose from the throng. He turned to go back again, and in order to get ahead faster he took a side way along the street. There stood a little tavern, the proprietor of which had planted a few lean evergreens in front of the door, put up a few tables and benches and spread a piece of canvas above the whole, like a spider that spins her web close to a large pot of honey, so as to catch a fly now and then. Through the dirty window of this little house Karl happened to see the shining gilt tip of a flag-pole; in he went at once and behold, there, in the low-ceilinged room, sat his precious old men as if blown there by a thunderstorm. They lay and lounged this way and that on chairs and benches and hung their heads, and in the centre stood Frymann with the banner and said:
"That's enough! I won't do it! I'm an old man and don't want to bear the stigma of folly and a nickname for the rest of my days."
And with that he stood the banner in a corner with a bang. No answer followed until the pleased innkeeper came and placed a huge bottle of wine in front of the unexpected guests, although they had been too upset to order anything. Hediger filled a glass, stepped up to Frymann and said:
"Come, old friend and comrade, take a swallow of wine and brace up."
But Frymann shook his head and spoke not another word. They sat in great distress, greater than they had ever known; all the riots, counter-revolutions, and reactions that they had experienced were child's play compared to this defeat at the gates of paradise.
"Then in God's name, let us turn round and drive home again," said Hediger who feared that even now fate might turn against him. At that Karl, who until now had stood on the threshold, stepped forward and said gaily:
"Gentlemen, give me the banner! I will carry it and speak for you, I don't mind doing it."
They all looked up in astonishment and a ray of relief and joy flashed across their faces; but old Hediger said sternly:
"You! How did you come here? And how can an inexperienced young shaver like you speak for us old fellows?"
But from all sides came cries of "Well done! Forward unfalteringly! Forward with the lad!" And Frymann himself gave him the banner, for a heavy weight had fallen from his heart and he was glad to see his old friends saved from the distress into which he had led them. And forward they went with renewed zest; Karl led, bearing the banner grandly aloft, and in the rear the innkeeper looked sadly after the vanishing mirage that had for a moment deceived him. Hediger alone was now gloomy and unhappy, for he did not doubt that his son would lead them deeper into the mire than ever. But they had already entered the grounds; the Grisons were just marching off, a long brown procession, and, passing them and in time to their music, the old men marched through the crowd, keeping step as perfectly as they had ever done. Again they had to mark time when three fortunate shots who had won cups crossed their path with buglers and followers; but all that, together with the loud noise of the shooting, only increased their festive intoxication and finally they uncovered their heads at the sight of the trophy-temple which blazed with treasures, and from the turrets of which a host of flags fluttered showing the colors of all the cantons, towns, districts and parishes. In their shade stood several gentlemen in black and one of them held a brimming silver goblet in his hand ready to receive the arrivals.
The seven venerable heads floated like a sunlit cake of ice in the dark sea of the crowd, their scanty white hair fluttered in the gentle east wind and streamed in the same direction as the red and white flag high above them. By reason of their small number and their advanced age they attracted general attention, people smiled not without respect, and everyone was listening as the youthful standard-bearer stepped forward and in a fresh clear voice delivered this address:
"Beloved Countrymen! Here we come with our little banner, eight of us all told, seven greybeards with a young standard-bearer. As you see, each carries his rifle, without claiming to be a remarkably good shot; to be sure, none of us would miss the target and sometimes one of us hits the bull's eye, but if that should occur you can swear that he didn't mean to. So, as far as the silver is concerned that we shall carry away from your trophy-hall, we might just as well have stayed at home.
"Nevertheless, although we are not eminent marksmen, we couldn't keep away; we have come not to win trophies, but to present a modest little cup, an almost immodestly joyful heart, and a new banner that trembles in my hand with eagerness to fly from your fortress of flags. But we shall take our little banner home with us again, it is only here to receive its consecration. See, what it bears in golden letters: 'Friendship in Freedom'! Yes, it is friendship personified so to speak, that we bring to this festival, friendship based on patriotism, friendship rooted in the love of liberty. Friendship it was that brought together these seven hoary heads that glisten here in the sunlight, thirty, no forty years ago, and it has held them together through every storm, in good and evil days. It is a society that has no name, no president and no statutes; its members neither bear titles nor hold offices, it is unmarked timber from the forest depths of the nation, and it now steps forth for a moment into the sunlight of the national holiday only to return presently to its place, to rustle and roar with thousands of other tree-tops in the hidden forest-dusk of the people, where only a few can know and call each other by name, and yet all are familiar and acquainted.
"Look at them, these old sinners! None of them stands in the odor of particular sanctity! Rarely is one of them seen at church! They do not speak well of ecclesiastical matters. But here, beneath the open sky, I can confide something strange to you, my countrymen: as soon as their fatherland is in danger they begin quite gradually to believe in God; first each one cautiously in his own heart, then ever more boldly, till one betrays his secret to another and they then, all together, cultivate a remarkable theology, the first and only doctrine of which is: 'God helps him who helps himself! On days of rejoicing too, like this, when crowds of people are assembled and a clear blue sky smiles above them, they again fall a prey to these religious thoughts and then they imagine that God has hung the Swiss standard aloft and made the beautiful weather especially for us. In both cases, in the hour of danger and in the hour of joy, they are suddenly satisfied with the words that begin our constitution: 'In the name of God Almighty'! And such a gentle tolerance pervades them then--cross-grained though they are at other times--that they do not even ask whether it is the Roman Catholic or the Protestant God of Hosts that is meant.
"In short, a child who has been given a little Noah's ark filled with painted animals and tiny men and women, cannot be more pleased with it than they are with their beloved little fatherland and all the thousands of good things that are in it, from the moss-covered old pike lying at the bottom of its lakes to the wild bird that flutters round its icy peaks. Oh, what different kinds of people swarm here in this little space, manifold in their occupations, in manners and customs, in costume and language! What sly rascals and what moonstruck fools we see running around, what noble growth and what weeds thrive here merrily side by side, and it is all good and fine and dear to our hearts, for it is in our fatherland.
"So, considering and weighing the value of earthly things, they grow to be philosophers; but they can never get beyond the wonderful fact of the fatherland. True, they traveled in their youth and have seen many countries, not with arrogance, but honoring every land in which they found people of worth; but their motto remained ever the same: respect every man's mother country, but love your own!
"And how graceful and rich it is! The closer one looks at it the finer does its warp and woof appear, beautiful and durable, a model piece of handiwork!
"How diverting it is that there is not just one monotonous type of Swiss, but that there are various stamps of people from Zurich and Bern, Unterwalden and Neuenburg, the Orisons and Basle, and even two kinds of Baslers; and that Appenzell has a history of its own and Geneva another! This variety in unity--which God preserve--is the proper school in which to learn friendship, and it is only where political homogeneousness is transformed into the personal friendship of a whole people that the highest plane has been attained; for where the sense of citizenship fails, friendship will be successful and both will combine to form a single virtue.
"These old men have spent their years in toil and labor; they are beginning to feel the frailty of all flesh, it pinches one in one place, one in another. Yet, when summer comes, they go, not to the baths, but to the national festival. The wine of the Swiss festival is the healing spring that refreshes their hearts, the outdoor summer life of the nation is the air that strengthens their old nerves, surging waves of happy fellow-countrymen are the sea that bathes their stiff limbs and makes them active again. You will presently see their white heads disappear in this sea. So now, fellow Helvetians, give us the cup of welcome! Long live friendship in the fatherland! Long live friendship in freedom!"
"Long may it live! Bravo!" rang out from all sides, and the welcoming speaker replied to the address and saluted the old men, who made an odd and touching appearance as they stood before him.
"Yes," he concluded, "may our festivals never become anything worse than a school of manners for the young, and, for the old, the reward of a clear public conscience, of faithful civic loyalty, and a fountain of pleasure! May they ever celebrate inviolable and vigorous friendship in our country, between district and district and between man and man! May your nameless and statuteless society, my venerable friends, live long!"
Again the toast was echoed all around and amid general applause the little banner was added to the others. Hereupon the little troop of the Seven wheeled about and made straight for the great festival hall to refresh themselves with a good luncheon and they were scarcely there before they all shook hands with their speaker and cried:
"Spoken from our hearts! Hediger, Kaspar! your boy is made of good stuff, he'll turn out well, let him go his own way. Just like us, but cleverer, we are a lot of old donkeys; but steadfast and unflinching, stand firm, Karl!" and so on.
But Frymann was quite dumbfounded; the boy had said just what he ought to have thought of, instead of banging away at the Jesuits. He too gave Karl his hand in friendship and thanked him for his help in time of need. Last of all, old Hediger came up to his son, took his hand also, fixed his eye keenly and firmly upon him and said:
"Son, you have revealed a fine but dangerous gift. Nurse it, cultivate it with loyalty, with a sense of duty, with modesty. Never lend it to the false and the unjust, to the vain and the trivial; for it may become as a sword in your hand that turns against you yourself, or against the good as well as the evil. Or it may become a mere fool's bauble. Therefore, look straight ahead, be modest, studious, but firm and unswerving. As you have done us honor to-day, remember always to do honor to your fellow-citizens, to your country, to give them joy; think of this and so you will be best preserved from false ambition! Unswerving! Don't think that you must always speak, let some opportunities pass, and never speak for your own sake, but always for some worthy cause. Study men, not in order to outwit and plunder them, but in order to awaken and set in motion the good in them, and, believe me, many who listen to you will often be better and wiser than you who speak. Never use sophisms and petty hair-splitting which only move the chaff; the heart of the people can only be stirred by the full force of truth. Do not, therefore, court the applause of the noisy and restless, but fix your eye unswervingly on the cool-headed and the firm."
Scarcely had he finished this speech and released Karl's hand when Frymann seized it and said:
"Try to acquire an equal knowledge of all branches and enrich your store of principles that you may not sink into the use of empty phrases. After this first dash allow considerable time to pass without thinking of such things again. If you have a good idea, never speak just in order to air it but rather lay it aside; the opportunity will come more than once later for you to use it in a more developed and better form. But should someone else forestall you in uttering it, be glad instead of annoyed, for that is a proof that you have felt and thought something universal. Train and develop your mind and watch over your nature and study in other speakers the difference between a mere tongue-warrior and a man of truthfulness and feeling. Do not travel about the country nor rush through all the streets, but accustom yourself to understand the course of the world from your own hearth, in the midst of tried friends; then, when it is time for action, you will come forward with more wisdom than the hounds and tramps. When you speak, speak neither like a facetious hostler nor like a tragic actor, but keep your own natural character unspoilt and then speak as it dictates. Avoid affectation, don't strike attitudes, do not look about you like a field marshal before you begin, or, worse, as if you were lying in wait to spring upon the audience. Never say that you are not prepared when you are, for people will know your style and will perceive it at once. When you have done, do not walk about collecting compliments, or beam with self-satisfaction, but sit quietly down in your seat and listen attentively to the next speaker. Save your harsh phrases as you would gold, so that when, on occasion, you use them in just indignation, it will be an event, and they will strike your opponent like a bolt from the blue. But if you think you may ever associate with an opponent again and work with him, beware of letting your anger carry you into the use of extreme expressions, that the people may not say,