Part 6 (1/2)

A THUNDER CLAP.

Blasi, the lounger, stood in his doorway in the clear suns.h.i.+ne of this lovely summer morning, both hands plunged deep into his pockets as was his wont, and looked about him as if to see whether everything in the outer world was the same as yesterday.

Judith came out to the well, carrying her water-jug on her head.

”Look out, Blasi, you are losing something,” she cried. Blasi looked on the ground, turned about, and searched behind and before.

”I don't see anything,” he said, and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.

”It's always so with me,” said Judith, ”when I've lost anything, I can't see it.”

”Oh ho, you're making a fool of me again!”

”That's all the thanks I get for telling you that you are losing something, and I was just going to make you a present that is worth more than five francs to a fellow like you.”

”What is it? Show it to me,” said Blasi, with more animation.

”First I will tell you something, and then you shall have it,” replied Judith. ”Look here, Blasi, my sainted father used to say, ”If you keep your hands out of your pockets they will get full, but if you keep them in, your pockets will be empty.” Now, both your hands are in your pockets, so all that ought to go in is running to waste. Isn't that so?”

”Well, suppose it is,” said Blasi, angrily. ”Now give me what you promised me.”

”I gave it to you this very minute. I said you'd better take your hands out of your pockets, and then your earnings would run in. That's good advice and worth more than five francs.

”What stuff! No one ever knows how to take you,” grumbled Blasi.

”It wouldn't help you to take me, if you did not take your hands out too,”

said Judith, ”but never mind, I have really something good for you,” and Judith motioned to him to come nearer. ”Would you like to have a nice well-washed s.h.i.+rt for Sunday? I will do one up for you if you will tell me something.”

That was an offer worth listening to. Sunday was a wretched day for Blasi, for when he had turned his two s.h.i.+rts and worn them both on both sides, he had never a clean one for Sunday. He had no one to wash for him. His mother was dead, and his father had enough else to spend for, without the was.h.i.+ng for a grown-up son. Blasi's money went for other things than was.h.i.+ng, and he was not fond of doing it for himself.

The proposition was therefore very apropos. ”Come a little nearer to the well; no one knows who may be behind those trees. Now listen; Can you tell me what is going wrong with Dietrich? He never whistles now, he never laughs, and his mother looks so sad, and she rarely speaks even to answer when spoken to. Something has happened to Dietrich.”

”Yes, and keeps on happening; all sorts of things, too. But Jost can tell you more than I can. They sit together in the Rehbock half the night and more, too; long after everybody else has gone, there they sit in the little back room. At first they do just as other people do, they drink a little and then a little more, and Dietrich pays. But that's nothing to what it costs him afterwards. They do something with paper, he and Jost.

Sometimes it is a lottery and then again something that they call speculating. I don't understand anything about it. Somebody comes over from Fohrensee and explains it to them. He does not belong there; but I guess you have seen him; he has fiery red hair, and red beard and red face. He has business in Fohrensee once a week, and lives the rest of the time down in the city; and he arranges everything down there, and then brings the account of gains and losses up to them; but it's a good deal more loss than gain. Dietrich puts in more money every time. Jost has nothing to put in but promises. He tells Dietrich all the time that presently the winnings will begin to flow in, and says that at first a fellow must expect to lose, so as to win all the more in the end, and that bye-and-bye it will all come back; with interest, of course. The red-haired man says yes to it all. Whenever I want to put something in, and ask Dietrich to lend me a little to try with, Jost acts as if he were the lord and master of the whole concern, and 'donkey' is the mildest name he calls me. I am just waiting though, till I can trip him up, and I'll do it with a vengeance too, so that he won't forget it all his life long.”

”Now that is a good idea,” said Judith. ”You'd better tell him then, that you do it to pay your debts, and that it would be well for him to follow your example. Now you have told me enough. Bring me your s.h.i.+rt on Sat.u.r.day, and I'll wash it for you.”

Judith lifted her water-jug and was turning away, but Blasi detained her.

”Just wait one moment, I want to ask you a question. Do you think she will have him?”

The question seemed to interest Judith, for she stood stock still.

”Who? whom? what do you mean?”

”I mean Veronica and Jost. Do you think she will take him?” As Blasi spoke he came slowly nearer to Judith. ”He has been saying some things lately, that made me think so.”

”If you know anything more stupid than that, I should like to hear it,”

cried Judith very angry indeed; but she did not move away, for she wanted to hear all that Blasi had to say.