CHAPTER II.
WITH FRESH COURAGE.
A few days later a numerous company of mourners followed another blackbier to the sunny church-yard.
Steffan, the saddler, had been universally respected. He had begun lifemodestly; there had been no large industries in Tannenegg in his earlydays. He married the quiet and orderly Gertrude, who worked with him athis trade, and helped support the frugal household. Soon the flood ofprosperity invaded Fohrensee, and naturally the only saddler in thevicinity had his hands full of work.
Now Gertrude's help was needed in earnest, and she did not fail. They weresoon in possession of a nice little house of their own, with a gardenabout it, and no matter how much work she might have to do in the shop,everything in her own province of housekeeping was as well and carefullyordered as if Gertrude had no other business to occupy her time andthoughts. And Steffan, Gertrude and their little Dieterli lived simple,useful and contented lives and were a good example to all theneighborhood.
Now, to-day, Gertrude stood weeping by the window and looked across to thechurch-yard, where that very morning they had laid her good man. Now shemust make her way alone; she had no one to help her, no one belonging toher except her two children, and for them she must work, for she neveradmitted for a moment that the orphaned Veronica was not hers to care foras well as her own little Dietrich.
She did not lose courage. As soon as the first benumbing effect of hersorrow had passed a little, she gazed up at the shining heavens and saidto herself, "He who has sent this trouble will send me strength to bearit;" and in full trust in this strength she went to work, and seemed ableto do more than ever.
Her property, outside of the little capital which her husband had laid by,consisted of her house, which was free from debt, and of which she couldlet a good part. The question was, whether she could carry on theremunerative business that her husband had been engaged in, until littleDietrich should be old enough to assume the direction of it, and pursue itas his father had done before him. Gertrude retained the services of aworkman who had been employed by Steffan, and she herself did not relaxher labors early and late, to oversee the work and keep all in runningorder.
For the first few weeks after her mother's death little Veronica sat everyevening weeping silently by herself in a dark corner of the room. WhenGertrude found her thus grieving, she asked kindly what ailed her, andagain and again, she received only this sorrowful answer,
"I want my mother."
Gertrude drew the child tenderly towards her, caressing her, andpromising her that they would all go together some day to join her mother,who had only gone on before, that she might get strong and well again. Andgradually this second mother grew to take the place of her own, and nogame, no amusement could draw the loving child away from Gertrude's side.Only Dietrich could succeed in enticing her to go with him now and then.
The lad's love for his mother showed itself in a louder and moredemonstrative manner. He often threw his arms about her neck, cryingpassionately,
"My mother belongs to me and to nobody else."
Then Veronica's brows would knit over her flashing eyes, until they formeda long straight line across her face. But she did not speak. And Gertrudewould put one arm about the boy's neck and the other about the littlegirl's, and say,
"You must not speak so, Dietrich. I belong to you both, and you bothbelong to me."
In general, the two children were excellent friends, and completelyinseparable. They were not happy unless they shared everything togetherand wherever one went, the other must go too. They went regularly toschool every morning, and were always joined by two of the neighbors'children, who went with them.
These were, the son of the shoemaker, long, bony Jost, with his little,cunning eyes,--and the sexton's boy, who was as broad as he was long, andfrom whose round face two pale eyes peered forth upon the world, ininnocently stupid surprise. His name was Blasius, nicknamed Blasi.
Often, on the way to school, quarrels arose between Dieterli and the twoother boys. It would occur to one of them to try what Veronica would do ifhe were to give her a blow with his fist. Scarcely had he opened hisattack when he found himself lying on his nose, while Dieterli played avigorous tattoo on his back with no gentle fists. Or the sport would be toplant a good hard snow-ball between Veronica's shoulders, with themortifying result to the aggressive boy, of being pelted in the face withhandfuls of wet snow, until he was almost stifled, and cried out formercy. Dieterli was not afraid of either of them; for though smaller andthinner than either, he was also much more lithe, and could glide aboutlike a lizard before, behind and all around his adversaries, and slipthrough their fingers while they were trying to catch him. Veronica waswell avenged, and went on the rest of her way without fear of molestation.If one of the other lads felt in a friendly mood, and wished to act asescort to the little girl, Dieterli soon gave him to understand that thatwas his own place, and he would give it up to no one.
Every evening "Cousin Judith" came for a little visit, to give Gertrudesome friendly advice about the children, or the household economy. Sheused to say that the gentle widow needed some one now and then to showclaws in her behalf, and Judith knew herself to be in full possession ofclaws, and of the power to use them, an accomplishment of which she wassomewhat proud. One evening she crossed over between daylight and dark,and entered the room where Veronica was, with her favorite plaything inher hand, moving it back and forth as she sat in the window in the waninglight. She could read very nicely now for two years had passed since shehad lost her own mother, and had become Gertrude's child. Many a time hadshe read over the motto which shone out so mysteriously from the breast ofthe opened rose. To-day she was poring over it again, and her absorptionin "that same old rose," as Dieterli called it, had so annoyed the livelylad that he left her, and had gone out into the kitchen to find hismother. When Judith saw the girl sitting thus alone, buried in thought,she asked her what she was thinking about in the twilight all by herself.
Dieterli, whom no sound ever escaped, had heard Cousin Judith come in, andcame running in from the kitchen to see what was going on. Veronica lookedup at the visitor and asked earnestly,
"Cousin Judith, what is fortune?"
"Ah, you are always asking some strange question that no one else everthought of asking;" said Cousin Judith, "where on earth did you ever hearof fortune?"
"Here," said Veronica, holding up the rose with the golden verse in thecentre. "Shall I read it to you?"
"Yes, do, child."
Veronica read--
"Fortune stands ready, full in sight; He wins who knows to grasp it right."
"Well, it means this--I should say--fortune is whatever anyone wants themost."
"Fortune is a horse, then," said Dietrich quickly.
Veronica sat thinking. "But, Cousin Judith," she said presently, "how canany one 'grasp fortune'?"
"With your hands," replied Cousin Judith unhesitatingly, "You see, ourhands are given us to work with, and if we use them diligently and do ourwork well, as it ought to be done, then fortune comes to us; so don't yousee we 'grasp it' with our hands?"
The verse had now become endued with life, and meant something real andattractive to Veronica. She did not lay her rose out of her hand for along time, that evening, notwithstanding that Dietrich cast threateningglances upon it, and finally broke out in vexation,
"I will tear off the spring some time, and spoil the thing altogether."
The rose was not put into the book and the book into the cup-board, untilthe time came for the children to say their evening prayers. This was theclosing act of every day; and it was so fixed and regular a habit, thatthe children never needed to be bidden to fold their hands, and kneel toask God's blessing before they slept.