Read Heimatlos: Two stories for children, and for those who love children Page 3


  CHAPTER II

  IN SCHOOL

  Rico was nearly nine years old and had attended school two winters.There was no school in the mountains in the summer, for every one,including the teacher, was busy farming. Rico did not mind this,however, for he had his own way of passing the time. In the morning hewould go out to the doorsteps where he would remain watching the houseopposite until a girl with laughing eyes beckoned him to come across.They always had much to say to each other of all that had happenedsince they were together before. Her name was Stineli, and she andRico were nearly the same age. They had always gone to schooltogether, were in the same classes, and from the first had been thebest of friends.

  Rico extended his intimacy to no one else. It was little pleasure tohim to be with the boys of the neighborhood. When they wrestled in theschool yard, Rico either walked away or paid no attention to them. If,however, they attacked him, he would face them with such a strangelook that they ceased troubling him.

  With Stineli he was perfectly contented. She had a lovely face withmerry light-brown eyes. Her fluffy golden hair was gathered into twoheavy braids which hung loosely from her shoulders. She was scarcelynine years old, but there were seven younger brothers and sisters. Forthese she had to do a great many things, so that her time for play wassadly limited. The other children were Trudt, Sam, Peter, Urschli,Anna, Kunzli, and the baby. Calls for Stineli seemed to come fromevery direction, and she willingly helped wherever she could. Themother said that Stineli could put on three pairs of stockings for thelittle ones while Trudt, the younger sister, was getting a child'sfoot in place for the first one.

  Stineli went to school gladly, for there was always the pleasant walkgoing and returning with Rico. So many duties fell to her share duringthe summer that she had no leisure except on Sunday afternoons. Thenshe and Rico, who had usually been waiting on the doorsteps opposite,would go hand in hand over the wide meadow to the wooded hill beyondthat stretched far out into the lake. There they would sit and lookdown into the water and watch the waves beat against the shore. Herethey enjoyed themselves so much that Stineli was happy all the week inlooking forward to the pleasure of the next Sunday.

  There was some one else who contributed greatly to Stineli'spleasure. This was her aged grandmother, who made her home with thefamily. She noticed how much was expected of Stineli and often gaveher bits of money to brighten a hard day's work. She was very fond ofRico and occasionally made it possible for Stineli to play with him bytaking the household duties upon herself.

  The grandmother frequently spent the summer evenings sitting in thefront yard, and Stineli and Rico liked to sit with her and listen tothe stories she told them. When the vesper bell rang she would say,"Remember, that is the signal for our evening worship." Then the threewould devoutly repeat the Lord's Prayer.

  "Your evening devotion ought never to be neglected," the grandmothercontinued one evening; "I have lived many more years than you have,and I have known many people, but I have observed that there is a timein the life of every one when prayer is needful. I have some in mindwho did not pray, but when troubles came they had nothing to comfortthem. I want you to know that you need not worry so long as you usethis prayer."

  It was May and the school was still in session, although it could notbe kept open much longer, for the trees were beginning to show greentips, and great stretches of ground were entirely free from snow.Rico was standing in the doorway, observing these facts while waitingfor Stineli. Earlier than usual the door across the way opened and sheran to him.

  "Have you been waiting long? No doubt you've been building air castlesat the same time," she said, laughing. "We shall not be late to-day,even if we walk slowly. Do you ever think about that pretty lake anymore?" asked Stineli, as they walked along.

  "Indeed I do," replied Rico; "I often dream of it, too, and I seelarge red flowers near the violet-colored hills I told you about."

  "But dreams don't count," broke in Stineli. "I have dreamed that Peterclimbed up the tallest tree, but when he got to the topmost branch Ithought it was only a bird, and then he called to me to dress him.That proves how impossible dreams may be."

  "This one of mine is possible," asserted Rico. "It makes me think ofsomething that I have really seen, and I know that I have looked atthose flowers and the hills. The picture is too real to be a dreamonly." As they neared the schoolhouse a company of children ran tomeet them, and they all entered the schoolroom together.

  In a few moments the teacher came. He was an old man who had taught inthis room many years, and his hair had grown thin and gray as theyears passed by. This morning he began the exercises with a number ofquestions on previous work, following this with the song, "LittleLambs."

  Rico was looking so attentively at the teacher's fingering of theviolin strings that he forgot to sing. The children, being accustomedto depending upon Rico's voice, sang out of tune, and the notes fromthe violin became more and more uncertain until all was in confusion.The song was abruptly ended by the teacher's throwing the violin onthe table in disgust. "What are you trying to sing, you foolishchildren?" he exclaimed. "If I only knew who gets so out of tune andspoils the whole song!"

  A lad sitting next to Rico ventured to say, "I know why it went thatway; it always does when Rico doesn't sing."

  "What is that I hear about you, Rico?" began the teacher, sharply."You are a very obedient little fellow, but inattention is a seriousfault, the result of which you have just seen. Let us try again. Now,Rico, see that you sing this time."

  The children joined heartily, and Rico's voice sustained the song tothe end. Then the teacher gave the violin a few final strokes and laidit on the table. "A good instrument that!" he said, and rubbed hishands with evident satisfaction.