Part 12 (1/2)
”Always n.o.ble!” said Fritz, and Marie Moller disappeared again behind her napkin.
”Come, Triddelsitz,” said Habermann, ”sit down to dinner,”
Fritz accepted the invitation--the fellow was in luck, for he had come at the best season for good living, in the roast-goose season, and as it happened, a fine, brown bird stood before him, and this beginning of his study of farming might well be agreeable. He was not at all sparing of the roast goose, and Habermann reflected silently that if he sat on horseback as well as at table, paid as much attention to farm-boys as to roast goose, knew as much about horses' fodder as of his own, and cleared up business as completely as he did his plate, something might be made of him in time.
”Well, Triddelsitz,” said Habermann, when dinner was over, ”now you can go to your room, and change your clothes, and put this smart riding-suit away where the moths will not get at it, for you won't need it again this two years. We don't ride much here, we go on foot, and if there is any riding to do, I do it myself, by the way.”
Before long, Fritz re-appeared, with a pair of greased boots, short breeches, and a gra.s.s-green pilot-coat.
”That will do,” said Habermann; ”now come, and I will give you some instructions to begin with.”
They went over the farm, and next morning Fritz Triddelsitz stood with seven of the farm laborers in the Rahnstadt road, and let the water out of the puddles,--an agreeable business, especially in November, with a drizzling rain all day long. ”The devil!” said Fritz Triddelsitz, ”farming isn't what I took it for!”
A couple of weeks after his arrival, Brasig came riding into the yard, one Sunday noon. Fritz had by this time become so far subdued by Habermann, his monotonous work, and the everlasting rainy weather, that he began to comprehend his situation as an apprentice, and his natural good-heartedness made him ready for little services. So he started out of doors, to a.s.sist Brasig down from his horse, but Brasig screamed, ”Don't come near me! Don't touch me! Don't come within ten feet of me!
Tell Karl Habermann to come out.”
Habermann came: ”Bless you, Brasig, why don't you get down?”
”Karl--no, don't touch me I just get me a soft chair, so that I can get down by degrees, and then bring a blanket or a sheepskin or something soft to spread under it, for I have got this confounded gout.”
They did as he asked, spreading mats under the chair, and Brasig crawled down from the horse, and hobbled into the house.
”Why didn't you send me word you were ill, Brasig?” said Habermann. ”I would gladly have gone to you.”
”You can do nothing for me, Karl; but I couldn't stay in that confounded hole any longer. But what I was going to say is--I have given it up.”
”Given what up?”
”Getting married. I shall take the pension from my gracious Herr Count.”
”Well, Brasig, I would do that, in your place.”
”Eh, Karl, it is all very well to talk; but it is a hard thing for a man of my years to give up all his cherished hopes, and go to a water-cure; for Dr. Strump is determined to send me there. I don't suppose Dr. Strump knows anything about it, but he has had the accursed gout himself, and when he sits by me and talks so wisely about it, and talks about Colchic.u.m and Polchic.u.m, it is a comfort to think that such a learned man has the gout too.”
”So you are going to a water-cure?”
”Yes, Karl; but not before spring. I have made my plans; this winter I shall grumble along here, then in the spring I will go to the water-cure, and by midsummer I will take the pension, and go to live in the old mill-house at Haunerwiem. I thought at first I would go to Rahnstadt, but there I should have no house rent-free, and no village, and they would take me for a fat sheep and fleece me and skin me; it would be contemptible, and also too expensive.”
”You are right, Brasig; stay in the country, it is better for you; and stay in our neighborhood, for we should miss you sadly, if we did not see your honest old face, every few days.”
”Oh, you have society enough; you have these young people, and, I was going to say, old Broker at Kniep, and Schimmel of Radboom would be glad to send you their boys also. If I were you I would put on an addition to the old farm-house, to have plenty of room, and establish a regular agricultural school.”
”That does very well for a joke, Brasig. I have enough to do with these.”
”Yes? How do they get along.”
”Well, Brasig, you know them both, and I have often thought I should like to ask your opinion.”
”I can't tell, Karl, till I have seen how they go. Young farmers are like colts, one can't judge merely by looking at them, one must see them put through their paces. See, there goes your young n.o.bleman; call him a little nearer, and let me examine him.”