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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2025-12-01 01:59:21 -0800 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2025-12-01 01:59:21 -0800 |
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diff --git a/77374-h/77374-h.htm b/77374-h/77374-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f2d5b4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/77374-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1066 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + The brave little maid of Goldau | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; + margin-top: 4em;} + +/* Heading Styles */ +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + clear: both; + font-weight: bold; + page-break-before: avoid;} + +h1 { /* use for book title */ + margin: 1em 5% 1em; + font-size: 140%;} +h2 { /* use for chapter headings */ + margin: 1em 5% 1em; + font-size: 120%;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.h1head { + clear: both; + display: block; + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: center; + font-weight: bold; + page-break-before: avoid; + margin: 1em 5% 1em; + font-size: 140%; } + +/* Paragraph styling */ +p { text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} +.unindent {text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em;} +.tall {line-height: 150%;} /* Adjust as necessary */ +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +/* Font styling */ +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} +.smaller {font-size: 85%} +.muchsmaller {font-size: 75%;} +.ls {letter-spacing: .25em; + margin-right: -0.25em;} + + +/* Images */ +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: 2em auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; + margin-top: 4em;} + +a { border:none; text-decoration:none; font-variant:normal; } +abbr { border:none; text-decoration:none; font-variant:normal; } + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp100 {width: 100%;} +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp50 {width: 100%;} +.illowp54 {width: 54%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77374 ***</div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_01" style="max-width: 62.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_01.jpg" alt="frontis"> +</figure> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1> +<span class="muchsmaller">THE</span><br> +BRAVE LITTLE MAID<br> +OF GOLDAU +</h1> +</div> + +<p class="p4 center">BY</p> +<h2 class="nobreak">MARY ELIZABETH JENNINGS</h2> + +<p class="p4 center tall">NEW YORK<br> +ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY<br> +<span class="smaller">(INCORPORATED)</span><br> +182 FIFTH AVENUE</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center tall"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1892, by</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Anson D. F. Randolph & Company.</span><br> +(Incorporated). +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1"></span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak ls"> + ILLUSTRATIONS. + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">A Nestling Village.</span>—<a href="#i_01">Frontispiece</a>.</p> + +<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">The Land-Slide.</span>—<a href="#i_12">To face page 13</a>.</p> + +<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">The Peaceful Valley.</span>—<a href="#i_32">To face page 33</a>.</p> + +<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Evening Bells.</span>—<a href="#i_39">To face page 38</a>.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a><a id="Page_3"></a></span></p> + <p class="h1head"> + THE BRAVE LITTLE MAID<br> + OF GOLDAU. + </p> +</div> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_I"> + <abbr title="One">I.</abbr> + </h2> + +<div class="tall"> +<p>Throughout Switzerland, the +summer of 1806 is always spoken of +as “The wet Summer.” During May, +June, and July, many and heavy +showers fell, but in August it rained +almost every day. In the Canton of +Schwytz, the sky was so dark and +forbidding that the clouds left the +upper spaces, and chased each other +quite down the mountain sides: and +shut out the lovely little valley, which +lay between Mount Rossberg and +Mount Rigi, from the rest of the +world. The people cared little for +this, however, for was not the grass +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4"></span>in the meadows on the mountain +side as sweet as sweet could be? had +the cows ever given richer milk? +had ever such butter and cheese been +made before, or so good a price received +for it? And look at the gardens; +such cauliflower! such cabbage! +such potatoes! And above +all, look around at the “over world,” +the mosses, the vines, the shrubs, and +trees, whose leaves, from the tenderest +brown to the darkest green, seem +as though tipped with diamonds, they +sparkle so! And the flowers; were +their colors ever more soft and lovely? +No, everything was beautiful! beautiful! +True, the tourists grumbled +at the weather, but they always had +a way of grumbling at something, +and perhaps it might as well be the +weather as anything else: and so the +Fraus talked, and smiled, and nodded +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5"></span>their heads, which made their +words all the more reliable.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the Rossberg nestled +the pretty little village of Goldau. +The mountain lifted its head five +thousand feet above the village, but +it smiled down upon it so kindly, +and when the sharp winds blew +shielded it so securely, that the people +looked up with grateful eyes and +spoke of it as their own beautiful +mountain. And it was indeed beautiful. +Near the top, and extending +for a good way down its side, grew +strong large trees, with little trees in +between; quite a wood in fact; and +when the wind passed over the mountain +tops, the leaves rustled, shook +hands, and laughed and talked in the +pleasantest way imaginable. Below +the wood, lay the great green meadows, +where the grass grew soft and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6"></span>thick like velvet; and gardens too, +for the people of Goldau not only +kept many cows, but thought much +of their cauliflower, cabbage, and +potatoes. A little higher on the +mountain side than most of the +houses in the village, stood the home +of young Kaspar Bernstein, Josepha +his wife, three pretty children, and a +little maid named Franziska Ulrich. +Heinrich, the eldest, was a stout lad +of eight years, who helped his father +drive the cows to and from the pasture, +and pulled the weeds in the +garden. But the pet of the household +was wee, blue-eyed Gretchen, a +demure little maid of six years, who +helped her mother, or thought she +did, and made the hours pass happily +for baby Fritz. Their home was a +very pleasant one, clean and comfortable; +the floors white with frequent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7"></span>scrubbings,⁠—the pretty blue picture +dishes at which Gretchen never tired +of looking as the plates stood on +edge in the racks on the wall; the +tinware polished until it shone like +silver; and the great square tile stove, +with the bench around three sides of +it, so that all could sit with their +backs against the warm tile of an +evening, while the top was large +enough to make a bed upon in the +coldest winter nights,⁠—oh, it was as +cozy and comfortable as a home +could well be! And in the Summer +time, how breezy the house was when +the doors and windows were all wide +open; why, one could stand in the +front door, and look right out through +the back door at the mountain. And +the view of Goldau, with other little +towns all lying so close together, and +the shimmering water of the lake, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8"></span>made a picture always lovely to look +upon; and when the sweet tones of +the church bells floated up to them, +morning and evening, their joy was +complete.</p> +</div><!--end tall spacing--> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9"></span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_II"> + <abbr title="Two">II.</abbr> + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="tall"> +<p>The second morning of September +opened dark and uncomfortable +enough. The rain fell in torrents; +at seven o’clock it was still too dark +to see without a candle. Kaspar went +out and attended to his cattle, and +when he brought in the milk said to +his wife,⁠—</p> + +<p>“Frantz Schwartz was on top of +the mountain yesterday; he says that +the little crack up there has so +widened that he cannot now jump +across it.”</p> + +<p>“Is there any danger, think you?” +anxiously asked the wife, setting the +wooden pail on the floor and looking +up at him.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” answered Kaspar carelessly, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10"></span>shaking the water from his +cap, “if there should be a split-off, it +won’t get any further than the trees; +they’ll hold it, never fear,” and turning +from her he went off to his work, +whistling merrily.</p> + +<p>But Frau Bernstein did not feel +so sure, and many times during the +morning she opened the door and +looked long and anxiously toward +the top of the towering mountain.</p> + +<p>“I know not what makes me feel +so afraid,” she said to Franziska, who +was holding and amusing baby Fritz, +“yet I cannot help it; even the trees +seem to be worried about something, +the leaves all hang their heads so.”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense,” laughed Kaspar, +coming in just in time to catch her +last words; “the leaves are soaked +through and through with water, and +are too heavy to hold their heads up.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11"></span></p> + +<p>But there was work to do, and, in +spite of anxiety, the morning hours +passed quickly.</p> + +<p>About dinner-time the rain stopped +falling, but the black, angry +clouds settled down more heavily +over meadow and town, and after a +few moments of quiet a gust of ice-cold +wind swept down the mountain +sides, followed by a furious, though +short, storm of hail.</p> + +<p>The afternoon wore away with no +return of the storm, and the hearts +of all grew lighter.</p> + +<p>“Now God be thanked that it no +more rains and the danger is over,” +said the mother.</p> + +<p>About five o’clock Kaspar looked +in and said, “Josepha, come out and +see what the hail has done; the trees +no more bear leaves but ribbons on +their branches; the vines are stripped, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12"></span>and nothing is left in the garden.”</p> + +<p>Baby Fritz was asleep in his cradle, +Gretchen busy with her play, and +leaving Franziska to care for them, +Frau Bernstein, followed by Heinrich, +passed out through the kitchen +leaving the door open,⁠—</p> + +<p>“It will be good for the house that +the air enter; the rain has made it so +damp,” said she.</p> + +<p>Franziska watched them until +Gretchen called,⁠—“Freddie! Freddie! +come see the funny little birds.”</p> + +<p>Franziska hurried to the window, +then opened the front door, and stood +upon the steps, Gretchen close beside +her.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i_12" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_12.jpg" alt="land slide"> +</figure> + +<p>How strangely the birds acted, to +be sure. They flew round and round +in the air, all the time uttering a +plaintive little cry: the cattle, too, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13"></span>showed great uneasiness, and began +to run about the meadows lowing as +they ran. What could it all mean? +Kaspar and his wife asked the same +question, and, as if in answer, a huge +boulder left the mountain top and +crashed into the trees. It fell no +further; the trees held it; but when +three or four others rolled down together, +that was more than the trees +could stand; they bent and broke and +the huge rocks came rolling down the +mountain side into the village below. +Kaspar looked at the mountain and +saw the trees tottering and falling, +and the ground all in motion, and +seizing Heinrich with one hand and +his wife with the other, he shouted, +“A land slide! run! run!!”</p> + +<p>Now, in times of great excitement, +a father may forget his children for a +moment, but a mother never; so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14"></span>tearing herself from her husband’s +grasp with the words, “Gretchen! +Fritz!” Frau Bernstein ran toward +the house as fast as she could run, +not minding in the least that she was +in the track of the falling stones. +As she reached the door, she caught +Gretchen up in her arms, and rushed +into the room where baby Fritz +lay sleeping. Handing Gretchen to +Franziska, who had followed her, it +was the work of a moment only to +lift the baby from his cradle, but as +Franziska turned to leave the room +she saw, with horror-stricken eyes, +what seemed to be the whole mountain +side coming through the back +door. One step only when a +crashing, splintering, grinding noise +filled her ears; and then all became +a blank. When she came to +herself, she was in the dark; so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15"></span>dark it was she could not see at all, +but worse than that, she was buried +to her shoulders in wet earth and +stones, and the blood was running +down her face from a sharp cut in +her forehead.</p> + +<p>After struggling a few moments +she succeeded in freeing one of her +hands, and as she wiped the blood +away, the horrible truth flashed upon +her⁠—she was buried alive! Then +how she struggled, and cried, and +prayed, and shouted for help; but +the cruel earth held her close, and +there was no one to hear or answer +her. “Oh, if with the rest of them +I too had died!” she sobbed, when +the first paroxysm of terror had spent +itself,⁠—“but to starve here is horrible! +horrible!” and again she sought +to free herself from the earth around +her, but in vain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16"></span></p> + +<p>A low moan, followed by sobs of +fright and pain, with a piteous cry of +“Mutter! Mutter!” broke upon her +ear; it was little Gretchen’s voice.</p> + +<p>At the sound, all that was noble +and heroic in the girl’s nature asserted +itself; her own pain and danger were +forgotten; she must save Gretchen +somehow, but first she must soothe +and comfort her. “Gretchen! Gretchen!” +she called, “where are you, +dear?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t know,” answered the little +one between her sobs.</p> + +<p>“Come here, darling, you can come +to Freddie, can’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t get up,” wailed the child +after a moment’s silence; “something +won’t let me go.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t cry so, darling,” said Franziska; +“can you see anything?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t see anything but a little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17"></span>star in the dark,” replied the plaintive +little voice. At this answer, a great +hope filled the heart of Franziska; +the little star must be a small opening +through which the fading daylight +found an entrance; they were +not so deeply buried as she had +feared.</p> + +<p>“Want a drink of water,” wailed +the little one,⁠—“Freddie, come and +give Gretchen a drink.”</p> + +<p>Oh, how she longed to go.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do! oh, what shall +I do!” she moaned under her breath; +then with a great effort at self-control +she said aloud,⁠—“Gretchen, darling, +Freddie can’t come, so fast the +dirt holds her; but perhaps ‘der +Vater’ will come soon, and he will +give Gretchen water; only be patient, +darling, and do not be afraid, Freddie +is close here; now don’t cry any +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18"></span>more and she will tell you a story; +you want to hear again the story, +don’t you, Gretchen, about the prince +who found the real princess?”</p> + +<p>No answer, but the sobbing grew +less violent. The tears were running +down her own cheeks, but she began +bravely,⁠—</p> + +<p>“Once, upon a time, there was a +prince who wished to marry a princess, +but he wanted her to be a real +princess. He travelled all around +the world to find one; not that there +was any lack of princesses, but as to +whether or no they were real ones, +he could not always make out; there +was sure to be something about them +not just satisfactory. At last he went +home quite unhappy, so disappointed +was he at not finding a real princess.</p> + +<p>“One evening there was a furious +storm. It thundered and lightened, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19"></span>and the rain poured down till it was +quite dreadful. Between the thunderclaps +there came a knock at the +town-gate. The old king, after thinking +a moment, said the gate should +not be opened; no good person +would be out in such bad weather; +and if he were, he had no business +to be. But he was a kind-hearted +old king, and when it thundered and +lightened and rained harder than +ever, he went himself and opened it.</p> + +<p>“A princess stood outside the gate, +but,⁠—oh dear⁠—what a state she was +in from the rain and the bad weather! +The water was dripping down from +her hair and her clothes, and running +in at the tips of her shoes and coming +out at the heels. Yet she said +she was a real princess. Well, that +we’ll presently see, thought the old +queen, the king’s wife, but she said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20"></span>nothing. She opened the door into a +large room. ‘Oh, my!’ said the princess, +as she looked around. Except +where the windows were, the walls +were all covered with closets and +mirrors: first a closet, and then a +mirror; then a closet, then another +mirror, and so on all around the +room. The old queen opened a +closet door. There were the prettiest +little slippers the princess had +ever set her eyes upon. Slippers of +white satin, slippers of black satin, +slippers of red satin, slippers of gold +satin,⁠—indeed there were slippers of +every color under the sun.</p> + +<p>“The princess peeped into another +closet. On shelves lay piles of the +softest silk stockings,⁠—a pair of +stockings for every pair of slippers. +‘Oh, my!’ again said the princess. +In the other closets hung gowns of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21"></span>satin, and gowns of silk, and indeed +there was everything a princess could +have need of.</p> + +<p>“‘Now, help yourself,’ said the old +queen, and off she went to the kitchen +to hurry up the dinner; for when +princesses have been out in the rain +they are apt to be hungry.”</p> + +<p>“Gretchen’s hungry too,⁠—give +Gretchen some bread,” came in faint +tones.</p> + +<p>“When ‘der Vater’ comes, darling. +Just hear the rest of the story.</p> + +<p>“The princess stood a long time in +thought. She could not make up +her mind just what to put on. Black +would be the most appropriate, she +at last decided; she was not in mourning, +but she was in trouble, and that +was the next thing to it. So she put +on the black silk stockings, the black +satin slippers, and a black satin +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22"></span>gown; then she stood in the middle +of the room and looked at herself +in the mirrors.</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, my,’ said the princess, ‘how +fine it is to see one’s self all around +at the same time, and not have to +turn first this way and then that.’</p> + +<p>“When the princess came out of +the room how lovely she did look, +to be sure. Her hair curled all +around her face in little rings; her +eyes were blue as a bit of the sky +in sunshiny weather, her hands were +white as milk, and when the prince +touched one of them he thought he +had never felt anything softer. So +delighted was he, he wished to marry +her on the spot, but the old queen +was not quite satisfied. ‘She looks +well, and she eats well, but wait and +see how she sleeps,’ said she. So +she went into the chamber and took +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23"></span>off the bedding and laid a bean upon +the mattress. Then she laid twenty +mattresses upon the bean, and piled +twenty eider-down beds on top of +the mattresses.</p> + +<p>“The princess lay upon them the +whole night. In the morning, ‘How +did you sleep?’ asked the old queen.</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, very badly,’ said the princess; +‘I scarcely closed my eyes all +night! I do not know what was in +the bed! I laid upon some hard +thing which has made me black and +blue all over. It was quite dreadful!’</p> + +<p>“It was now evident that she was +a real princess, since she perceived the +bean through twenty mattresses and +twenty eider-down beds. None but +a princess could have such delicate +feeling. So the prince married her, +for he knew he had found a real +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24"></span>princess, and they lived happy ever +after.</p> + +<p>“Now, wasn’t it nice that the +prince found a real princess after all?”</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>“Gretchen, can’t you hear me?” +she cried.</p> + +<p>Still no answer.</p> + +<p>“Gretchen! Gretchen!” she called, +now thoroughly frightened, “speak +to Freddie!” but there was no sound +save her own voice. Then despair +filled the heart of poor Franziska. +“Oh! she is dying! she is dead! my +little Gretchen! if I could only go to +her I could get her out from under +the dirt and stones, so strong am I”; +and she dug desperately at the earth +surrounding her with her one poor +hand, but how vain were all her +efforts⁠—and soon realizing this, she +stopped struggling.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25"></span></p> + +<p>The long hours in their slow march +seemed almost to pause beside her. +How cold she was, all except her +head,⁠—that seemed on fire. How +the earth pinched her; if it held her +so tight long, her heart must stop +beating,⁠—how still everything was;⁠—she +had heard of the quiet of +the grave, now she knew what that +meant;⁠—only she had never thought +it could press down upon and hurt +her so;⁠—and the night wore itself +slowly out, with now no sound save +the creaking of some heavy timber as +it sank prone upon the ground under +its load of earth and stones.</p> + +<p>The faint, sweet tones of the morning +bell penetrated her prison, arousing +her from the stupor into which +she had fallen.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I cannot die! I cannot die, +when it is morning and the earth is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26"></span>so near! my sweet bells! how you +torture me. <i>Heilige Maria, bitt für +uns!⁠—bitt für uns!</i>”</p> + +<p>Her piteous cry pierced little Gretchen’s +returning consciousness, and +feebly she answered her.</p> +</div><!--end tall spacing--> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27"></span></p> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_III"> + <abbr title="Three">III.</abbr> + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="tall"> +<p>Above, Kaspar Bernstein was +searching frantically for the location +of his lost home. As the bells died +away, with the full force of his +strong lungs he shouted, “Josepha! +Josepha! Jo-se-pha!”</p> + +<p>Franziska heard, and, with the cry⁠—“Oh, +Gretchen! hear you? it is ‘der +Vater’s’ voice,”⁠—answered him with +all her strength, but her voice failed +to reach the outer air.</p> + +<p>Still shouting he wandered to and +fro, now near them, now more remote.</p> + +<p>“Gretchen!” she called, “answer +‘der Vater’; perhaps he can hear you +through the little star.”</p> + +<p>Gretchen only moaned.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28"></span></p> + +<p>“Gretchen, you <i>must</i> answer! ‘der +Vater’ will not find us; he will go +away and leave us here to die,⁠—Gretchen +darling⁠—shout as loud as +you can⁠—for the love of God, Gretchen!” +And the little one lifted +her feeble voice and called, “Vater! +Vater!”</p> + +<p>Overwhelmed by sorrow, as Kaspar +stood a moment motionless, that +faint cry reached him like a whisper +from God. Oh, how desperately he +dug, throwing the earth and stones +in all directions in his eager haste to +reach his darling, while he shouted +words of hope and comfort to her.</p> + +<p>It was not long before he came +upon the front room of his ruined +home. There, beside the crushed +cradle, lay his dead wife, little Fritz +clasped in her arms. He lifted them +tenderly, and laid them carefully +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29"></span>down out in the open air. He would +go back to them later; there would +be time for grieving, but not now. +A little further on lay Gretchen, +under a pile of dirt and stones. She +was badly bruised, and her hip was +broken. As he raised her in his +arms, the blue eyes opened; a slight +smile flitted over the pale face as she +whispered “Vater.”</p> + +<p>The tears which had not started +when he beheld his dead wife and +baby now ran down his cheeks, and +he felt as though he could never let +her go; but there was still work to +do, so placing her in the arms of a +kind-hearted Frau from a neighboring +village, he carefully dug his way +towards Franziska. As the light entered +her prison she looked about +her. Some of the beams and boards +of the house were jammed together +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30"></span>about six inches above her head, and +held back the earth that must otherwise +have crushed her. When Kaspar +reached her, he found her so +wedged in between great stones and +beams, he could not dig her out +alone; so bidding her keep her hope +and courage a little longer, he went +for help.</p> + +<p>The earth, which had so recently +been disturbed, now and then fell in +small quantities into the opening; +and occasionally a stone rolled over +the edge.</p> + +<p>Franziska’s strength began to desert +her;⁠—how long it was since “der +Vater” had left her;⁠—what if the +earth should cave in upon her before +he returned;⁠—the beams above her +head,⁠—she surely saw them move; +and when at last help reached her +she was unconscious.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31"></span></p> + +<p>The kind-hearted Frau who had +taken Gretchen opened her heart and +home to Franziska also; but many +weeks passed before she knew any +one. In her delirium she was constantly +talking to Gretchen, telling +her stories, begging her not to be +afraid,⁠—not to cry so; until the good +Frau would turn away her head, and +with her apron wipe her eyes. But, +one day, when the ground was white +with snow, she awoke and knew +them, and when little Gretchen, who +had grown quite well and strong, +climbed up on the bed and kissed +her over and over again, Franziska +thought she must have died and +waked up in heaven, such a wave of +happiness rolled over her.</p> + +<p>It was many days before Frau +Brinkerhoff told her how on that +never-to-be-forgotten day tons and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32"></span>tons of earth and stones broke away +from the Rossberg, and came sweeping +into the valley, burying four villages +and five hundred souls; how +the earth filled up one end of the +lake, and the water rose in a great +wall and swept out onto the land +wrecking all before it; how Frau +Bernstein and baby Fritz lay in the +quiet church-yard, and how the beautiful +laughing valley was beautiful no +longer, but oh, so desolate!</p> +</div><!--end tall spacing--> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_32" style="max-width: 62.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_32.jpg" alt="peaceful valley"> +</figure> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33"></span></p> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_IV"> + <abbr title="Four">IV.</abbr> + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="tall"> +<p>When Spring came again, and +Kaspar got his little family together, +what could they have done without +Franziska. She cooked, and +scrubbed, and sewed, and mended, +and kept the patches on Heinrich’s +knees; she knit the long woolen +stockings, and taught Gretchen all +she could, just as the good “Mutter” +would have wished. And as the +years passed away, Kaspar and the +children thought there never was a +lovelier, sweeter maid than Franziska +Ulrich.</p> + +<p>Karl Schultzer thought so too; he +told her so one day and asked her to +be his wife. She put her hand in +his, and, looking into his honest eyes, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34"></span>said, “Karl, I love you too, but the +last thing ‘die Mutter’ said on that⁠—that +dreadful day when she gave +me Gretchen, was, ‘Take care of +her’;⁠—I cannot leave her.”</p> + +<p>“But now Gretchen is old enough +to take care of herself,” urged Karl.</p> + +<p>With a faint smile Franziska answered,⁠—“Karl, +you cannot change +me; I thought it all out as I lay +upon my bed when my head was no +longer queer, and the first time I +went to the church to pray to the +‘Heilige Mutter’ I told her I would +be faithful;⁠—my word I cannot +break”; and seeing how it was with +her, Karl kissed the eyes now full of +tears and went back home disappointed, +but not despairing.</p> + +<p>So the years sped until Gretchen’s +nineteenth birthday.</p> + +<p>One evening she hid her head in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35"></span>Franziska’s lap, and, with many a +break, confessed that the brave +hunter from over the mountains +had said that he loved her, and +asked her to be his wife.</p> + +<p>“His wife you wish to be?” asked +the tender voice.</p> + +<p>“I love him,” was the whispered +answer, “and to-morrow he comes to +ask ‘der Vater.’”</p> + +<p>If, for a moment, Franziska’s faithful +heart ached, Gretchen never knew +it; and when “der Vater’s” yes had +been spoken, no one entered more +heartily into the work and plans than +she. What love and sympathy and +counsel, as well as work, she gave, no +one save Gretchen ever knew.</p> + +<p>On a bright morning, to the sound +of music, there came marching down +the long street Gretchen in gay attire, +followed by her mates; the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36"></span>bridegroom and his friends, who had +come over the mountain-passes to +see him married. And when, in the +dim old church, the gray-haired, +fatherly priest had counselled them, +married them, and blessed them, +Gretchen kissed “der Vater” and +Heinrich good-bye; clung for a moment +to Franziska, as though she +could not let her go;⁠—then turned +her face toward the snow-clad mountains, +beyond which lay her husband’s +home.</p> + +<p>As the day passed, how desolate +was the house without bright, laughing +Gretchen. It seemed to Franziska +as though she could not bear +it, and when her work was done she +stepped out into the twilight that +“der Vater” and Heinrich might not +see her grieving and her tears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37"></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly Karl stood before her. +He held out his hands and said, “So +long have the years been, Franziska, +and the home so lonesome is; will +you now come?”</p> + +<p>Then was her sorrow turned into +joy, and she answered, “If you want +me, oh so gladly will I come to you, +my Karl”; and Karl was content.</p> + +<p>All this happened long ago, and +both Gretchen and Franziska lived +to tell the story of their marvellous +escape to their many grandchildren; +while “der Vater” never wearied of +repeating, or Heinrich’s children of +hearing, how brave Franziska encouraged +and cheered little Gretchen +through that long and terrible +night.</p> + +<p>Some time ago I stood above the +buried village and looked up at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38"></span>Rossberg. The mountain has never +smiled since that awful day. No +trees or shrubs or grassy meadows +grow upon its sides; all is bare and +desolate. But in the valley the grass +and moss grow green; the vines +twine themselves over and around +the great rocks, from under whose +shadows ferns and lovely little flowers +lift their heads.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the soft, clear tones of +the evening bell floated through the +air,⁠—that sweet-voiced bell whose +music reached Franziska and called +her back to hopes of life and home so +long ago. How sweetly it sounded +on the quiet air,⁠—coming,⁠—going,⁠—softer,⁠—fainter; +and when at last +it died away the sun had dropped +behind the mountains, leaving the +rosy-tinted clouds peeping over their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39"></span>rocky edges; while in the valley the +shadows lay thick upon grass and +vine.</p> + +<p>Stepping softly, reverently, over +the dead homes, Goldau and the +night were left alone together.</p> +</div><!--end tall spacing--> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp54" id="i_39" style="max-width: 52.6875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_39.jpg" alt="evening bells"> +</figure> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77374 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77374-h/images/cover.jpg b/77374-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..68f0072 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77374-h/images/i_01.jpg b/77374-h/images/i_01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6b43e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/images/i_01.jpg diff --git a/77374-h/images/i_12.jpg b/77374-h/images/i_12.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8c7aa9 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/images/i_12.jpg diff --git a/77374-h/images/i_32.jpg b/77374-h/images/i_32.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b497231 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/images/i_32.jpg diff --git a/77374-h/images/i_39.jpg b/77374-h/images/i_39.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b9122b4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77374-h/images/i_39.jpg |
