Part 40 (1/2)

It really looked, as if Brasig were right. Fritz came riding up, on the famous horse, on a gentle trot. He had taken off his hat, and was swinging it violently in the air, and shouting with all his might, ”Hurrah! Hurrah!” and all this, entirely by himself; for he did not perceive the two behind the thorn-bush, until he had ridden up to them, and Habermann asked if he were clean out of his head.

”They are nothing but lies,” said Fritz.

”What are lies?” asked Habermann, sharply.

”That the mare cannot hear hurrahs,” and with that he began to cry ”Hurrah!” again. ”You see,” and he sprang off the horse, and tied it to a willow, and going off a few steps, again cried ”Hurrah!” ”You see, she does not budge an inch. And _you_”--he turned to Brasig, who was half dead with laughter, ”_you_ told me so; but it isn't true!”

”Yes,” said Brasig, shaking all over, ”but it is true, though. What I said, I say again: she cannot hear it, for the old granny has been, these five years that I have known her, _stone deaf_.”

There stood Fritz Triddelsitz, the old clever, crafty Fritz Triddelsitz, wearing the most sheepish face imaginable.

”But,” said he, at last, ”Gust Prebberow is a good friend of mine, and he never told me that.”

”Yes,” said Brasig, ”you will know, after this, that friends.h.i.+p goes for nothing, in a horse trade.”

”Well, never mind, Triddelsitz,” said Habermann, ”one can get along with a deaf horse; take care not to get a dumb one!”

”Oh!” said Fritz, quite relieved, ”no fear of that! Just look at her, what a model of a horse! Full blood! And Herr von Rambow is going to buy all the colts, and when I have sold three or four----”

”Then you can buy an estate,” interrupted Brasig. ”Yes, we know that, already. Now ride carefully up to the house, and don't upset your milk-pails, on the way, like the maiden. Karl, do you remember? In Gellert?”

Fritz rode off. ”Good-for-nothing greyhound!” said Brasig.

”Well, I don't know,” said Habermann, ”I cannot help liking the old fellow, he has such a contented disposition.”

”That is because of his youth, Karl,” said Brasig.

”Well, perhaps so,” said Habermann, reflectively. ”See, there he goes, quite happy with his deaf, old, brood mare.”

CHAPTER XXI.

And Fritz was happy, he was the happiest being at Pumpelhagen Court, for there was not much happiness there, and that which was painted as such was not in fast colors. Habermann became, from day to day, more and more conscious that his good times were over, for his young Herr meddled with business that he did not understand, and that merely by fits and starts, with a heat and haste, which spoiled the farming, and confused the people, and when things did not go as they should, and the cart got into the ditch, then the inspector had to bear the blame. The young Herr also was unhappy, he was tormented by debts, which he wished to keep secret from his wife, he was also tormented by letters from David and Slusuhr,--personally they no longer troubled him, he had settled that, on account of the secrecy he wished to maintain, and they were very willing to consent, for the more secret the business was so much the better could they shear him, and when they had him quietly by themselves in Rahnstadt, they could use quite other knives and pincers, than they could at Pumpelhagen, where he was host, and they were obliged to treat him with some degree of respect.

But, besides this, he was not happy; he wanted to play the master, and had not the stuff in him, for he who would command must have capacity as well as knowledge; he had knowledge enough, more than many people,--”but capacity! neighbor, capacity!” said old Flegel, the wheelwright, and he had reason; the unhappiest of men is he who will, and can not. And Frida? She also was unhappy; she observed that her husband's full confidence was not given to her, she noticed that upon many serious questions they differed widely in opinion, she noticed that the business he had taken as his life work was one for which he had no training, she felt that he was unfair enough to visit his own failings upon other people, and more than all,--and worst of all for a sensible wife,--she felt that he made himself ridiculous, and that Pomuchelskopp, who, against her wishes, came often to Pumpelhagen, must have other reasons than ordinary civility, for not laughing at the confused and inconsiderate opinions of her husband. She resolved to keep watch over him, but such an occupation did not increase her happiness.

Fritz Triddelsitz was the happiest creature in all Pumpelhagen, and, if we except the two little twin-apples, in the whole region; but we must except these, for in happiness and blessedness a bride goes beyond all other beings, even the bridegrooms themselves, for if old Gottlieb, who had taken a candidate's place, with a cheerful, brisk, burgher-like old proprietor, taught and flogged the boys with uncommon pleasure and fidelity, and if Rudolph also, with Hilgendorf at Little Tetzleben, strewed manure so that it was a pleasure to see him, and the Tetzleben soil looked like a velvet coverlid, and went to bed at night singing and piping, and regularly fell asleep, for weariness, in the middle of a verse,--in comparison with the little twin-apples' blessedness as they sat together and sewed, st.i.tching on their trousseuax, and chatting, and joking with father and mother, and telling Louise, and showing their letters, all the bridegrooms' blessedness went for nothing.

But the old fellow was really very happy. The first thing in the morning, he went to the stable, where the young Herr's two riding-horses, and Habermann's old Gray stood, together with his treasure; he fed her, stealing the oats from the very mouths of the other horses, yes, although he had never been trained to the work, he groomed her, single-handed, for Krischan Dasel, who had charge of the riding-stable, did not give him satisfaction. On Sunday afternoons, when there was nothing else to do, he went to the stable, shut the door behind him, seated himself on the fodder-chest, folded his hands on his stomach, and thoughtfully contemplated the dear old creature, as she munched her oats and straw, and if she groaned from fullness he got up, stroked her back, and called her affectionately ”his good old woman;”

and three times a day he exercised her, for which devotion he should not be blamed, for upon her depended his future income.

But no happiness is perfect, a little annoyance always creeps in. And he had his share. In the first place, it went very much against him, that his chestnut mare should stand next Habermann's stiff old Gray: the company was not suitable; and secondly, he was in everlasting conflict with Krischan Dasel, about fodder and grooming.

”Herr Triddelsitz,” said Krischan, once as they were disputing, ”let me tell you, I feed the horses all alike, and groom them all alike; but I have often noticed that you take away the oats from the inspector's old gray, and give them to your mare. Now, don't take it ill of me, Herr Triddelsitz, but the gray is just as good a creature as the other, and has an equal right to a living. And what is this?” he asked, going up to the rack. ”How? this is calf-hay; how comes this calf-hay here? I will have no vermin getting into the pelts, when the inspector comes round.”

”I know nothing about it,” said Fritz, and he really was ignorant.

”Well, it is all the same to me,” said Krischan, ”but if I catch any one bringing it into the stable, I will break his bones for him, for I won't be troubled with such things.”