Part 3 (1/2)

”You cannot beat her, to be sure, since they are unfortunately your parents; but you might give a filial admonition, now and then, like a dutiful son, that the devil in her must be cast out, if she will not keep peace in the family. And you, Karl Habermann, don't take this little quarrel too much to heart; for your dear sister has a good temper and a joyous heart. She soon gets over it, and the old termagant must give in at last, for they can do nothing without her. The young woman is the mainspring of the house. But”--here he drew out from his pocket an immense double-cased watch, such a thing as one calls a warming-pan--”really, it is close upon seven! I must hurry, for my people need looking after.”

”Hold on,” said Habermann, ”I will go part way with you. Good-bye for so long, Jochen.”

”Good-bye, also, brother-in-law,” said Jochen, and remained sitting in his corner.

As they came out of doors, Habermann said, ”But, Brasig, how can you speak so of the old people, in their son's presence?”

”He is used to it, Karl. No devil could endure those two old dogs-in-the-manger. They have embroiled themselves with the whole neighborhood, and as for the servants, they run miles to get out of their way.”

”Good heavens,” said Habermann, ”my poor sister! She was such a joyous child, and now in such a house, and with such a lout of a man!”

”There you are right, Karl, he is an old lout (Nuss), and Nussler is his name; but he does not treat your sister badly, and, although he is an old blockhead and has no sort of smartness about him, he is not yet so dull that he cannot see how your sister manages the whole concern.”

”The poor girl! On my account, that she might not be a burden on me, as she said, and that our old mother might see one of her children settled before her death, she took the man.

”I know all about it, Karl, I know it from my own experience. Don't you remember? It was in rye-harvest, and you said to me, 'Zachary,' said you, 'your activity is a disadvantage to you, you are carrying in your rye still damp.' And I said, 'How so?' For on Sunday we had already had Streichelbier, and your sister was there also, and with such weather why shouldn't I get in my rye? And then I told you, unless I am mistaken, that of my three partners I would marry no other than your sister. Then you laughed again, so mischievously, and said, she was still too young. 'What has her youth to do with it?' said I. Then you said again my other two partners had the first chance, and laughed, not believing I was in earnest; and so the matter dawdled along for awhile, for my gracious Herr Count would not give his consent, and allowed no married inspectors. And next thing it was too late, for young Jochen had spoken for her, and your mother was on his side. No, it was not to be,” said the honest old fellow, looking pensively along his nose, ”but when I see her little rogues of twins, and think to myself that they ought rightly to be mine, listen to me, Karl, then I feel as if I could trample the old woman and old Jochen and young Jochen into the ground together. But it is a real blessing to the old Jesuits that your sister has came into the house, with her kind heart and cheerful disposition; for if they had had a daughter-in-law of a different sort, they would long since have been dead and buried.”

With these words, they had come out of the hamlet, and as they turned by the farm-garden Habermann exclaimed, ”Good heavens, can it be that the two old people are standing on that hill?”

”Yes,” said Brasig, with a scornful laugh, ”there is the old pack of Jesuits again at their place of retirement.”

”Retirement!” exclaimed Habermann. ”On a hill-top!”

”It is even so, Karl. The old reptile trusts n.o.body, not her own children, and if she has something to say which her ordinary gestures and pantomime will not suffice for, then they always come here to this steep hill, where they can see all around if any one is within hearing, and then they shout their secrets in each other's ears. Yes, now they are in full conclave, the old woman has laid a dragon's egg, and they are setting on it together.”

”She is so hasty and pa.s.sionate,” said Habermann. ”Just see how the old woman gesticulates! What would she have?”

”I know right well what they are deliberating and ruminating upon. I can understand a hundred paces off, for I know her of old. And Karl,”

he added, after a little thought, raising his eyebrows, ”it is best you should know all, that you may hold yourself ready; they are talking of you and your little one.”

”Of me, and my little girl?” asked Habermann, in astonishment.

”Yes, Karl. You see if you had come with a great bag of money, they would have welcomed you with open arms, for money is the one thing which they hold in respect; but in your temporary embarra.s.sment they look upon you and your little girl as nothing better than a couple of intruders, who will take the bread from their mouths, and from their old blockhead of a Jochen.”

”G.o.d bless me!” cried Habermann, ”why didn't I leave the child with the Ra.s.sows? What shall I do with the poor little thing? Do you know any expedient? I cannot leave her here, not even with my own sister can I leave her here.”

”But naturally, you wish to have her near you. Now I will tell you, Karl, tonight you must stay with the Nussler's; tomorrow we will go to the Herr Kammerrath at Pumpelhagen. If that goes well, then we can find a place for the child here in the neighbourhood; if not, we will ride to the city, and there we must find some opening,--if not otherwise, with the merchant Kurz. And now good-bye, Karl! Don't take the matter too much to heart,--things will improve, Karl!” whereupon he departed.

”Yes, if all were like you,” said Habermann, as he went back to his sister's house, ”then I should get over the steep mountain; but get over it I must, and will,” and the cheerful courage, which had been nurtured by labor and his feeling of duty, broke through the gloom, like the sun through a mist. ”My sister shall suffer no inconvenience on my account, and I will take care of my child myself.”

In the evening, when the milk had been cared for, Habermann walked with his sister along the garden-path, and she spoke of his, and he of her, troubles.

”Eh, Karl,” said she, ”don't fret about me! I am used to it all now.

Yes, it is true, the old folks are very selfish and irritable; but if they sulk at me for a week, I forget it all the next hour, and as for Jochen, I must own that he lays nothing in my way, and has never given me a hard word. If he were only a little more active and ready,--but that is not to be looked for in him. I have enough to do in my house-keeping, but I have to concern myself with the out-of-door work, too, which is not a woman's business, and there Brasig is a real comfort to me, for he has an eye to the fields and the farm-yard, and starts Jochen up a little.”

”Does the farming go well on the whole, and do you come out right at the year's end?” asked the brother.

”It does not go as well as it ought. We are too sparing for that, and the old folks will not allow us to make any changes or improvements. We come out right, and the rent is always paid promptly, but there are Jochen's two old brothers-in-law, the merchant Kurz, and the Rector Baldrian--they made quite a stir about it, and set the old people and us by the ears because they wanted their share of the property. The Rector doesn't really need it, but he is such an old miser; but Kurz could use his money, for he is a merchant, and will yet have a large business. But the two old people wish to give almost everything to Jochen, and with that which they have kept back for themselves they cannot part, and the old woman has an old rhyme, which she always quotes, if one touches on the subject:--