It was a cold autumn and winter came early. In October deep snow fell, and in November the little home was nearly buried out of sight. The children sat in their corner by the stove and seldom went out of the house. Barty was now seven. Franzelie five.
But few passers-by came to make a path in the deep snow, and, when the mother was obliged to go to the village for bread, she came back well-nigh exhausted. Deep sorrow and anxiety filled her heart, and if she could not earnenough by knitting and spinning for the black bread, the little family must live upon the milk of the meager goat, and there were still three long winter months before them.
Formerly she had sung at night by her children’s bedside, but now she was too oppressed to sing.
One night she sat in silence listening to the wind. It howled and rattled around the little cottage as if it would blow it away. Franzelie was fast asleep—she had no care if her mother was by her side—but Barty’s eyes were wide open.
“Mother,” he said, “why do you never sing any more?”
“Alas, dear boy, I cannot.”
“Wait,” said Barty, “I will tell you how it goes.”
“Wait,” said Barty, “I will tell you how it goes.”
“Have you forgotten the song?Wait, I will tell you how it goes.” And he sat up in bed and sang:
“Now the shades of darknessFall o’er land and sea.Father grant thy blessing,May we rest in Thee.”
“Now the shades of darknessFall o’er land and sea.Father grant thy blessing,May we rest in Thee.”
“Now the shades of darknessFall o’er land and sea.Father grant thy blessing,May we rest in Thee.”
“Now the shades of darkness
Fall o’er land and sea.
Father grant thy blessing,
May we rest in Thee.”
He sang with clear pure tones, and a thought suddenly came to the mother.
“Barty,” said the mother, “perhaps you can do something for me.”
“Oh, yes, I will,” he said eagerly, jumping out of bed.
“No, No! Go back again, you will be cold,” and she tucked him again into his warm nest.“To-morrow I will teach you a song for the New Year; perhaps you can sing it in the village and get bread, possibly nuts.”
Barty thought over the wonderful plan and was too excited to sleep for a long time. At last he called out, “Mother, is it almost morning?” But, finding it was not, he quietly settled himself for the slumber which soon came.
Early in the morning he was ready for his lesson, but his mother told him he must wait until she could sit down with her knitting, so in the mean time, he told Franzelie what he intended to do.
When the mother was ready she said, “I will sing the first verse twice, then you must try to sing it with me.”
Barty caught the air very quickly. “Now try it alone,” she said.
To her surprise Franzelie joined her brother, and with a light silvery voice gave the melody without mistake. Againthey tried. Barty forgot the air when half through, but his sister sang like a bird to the end.
The mother was delighted. “Franzelie must go with us,” she said. And day after day they sang together till words and music were alike familiar to both of the children.
New Year’s Day came at last. It was bright and cold, and the mother went early to church; that she never neglected. Then she hastened back to dress the patiently waiting children as warmly as possible.
Barty ran bravely through the high snow. Franzelie she helped over the hard places.
When they reached Altdorf, theyfound many children singing carols before the houses, so they went on till they came to the great inn, near an old tower. The mother stationed the children by the door while she stood behind the tower. Soon the door opened and the children were called into the large guest-room. The people praised the song, and many pieces of bread and cheese and small coins found their way into the basket Barty carried on his arm. The landlady put in some nuts, saying, “One must have something besides bread on New Year’s Day.”
The children heartily thanked their kind friends, then ran joyfully to their mother. On they went to other houses.
Before some of them so many children were singing their different songsthat the mistress of the house said she would rather give bread than have such a disturbance. Some received them kindly; others sent them empty away.
More than one called to Franzelie: “Here, little one, is something for you. Come in and get warm and then hurry home, you are shivering with cold.” And the mother said they could no longer stand in the keen air.
When they were once more by the warm fire in their little cottage, they opened the heavy basket. In it were many nice pieces of bread and cheese and nuts, and all were joyful, and the mother deeply thankful that she would be spared many anxious fears.