WHAT SAMI SINGS WITH THE BIRDS

 BY

 JOHANNA SPYRI

TRANSLATED BY HELEN B. DOLE

1917

[Illustration: "Up in the ash-trees the birds piped and sang merrilytogether. "]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 FIRST OLD MARY ANN

 SECOND AT THE GRANDMOTHER'S

 THIRD ANOTHER LIFE

 FOURTH HARD TIMES

 FIFTH THE BIRDS ARE STILL SINGING

 SIXTH SAMI SINGS TOO

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

UP IN THE ASH-TREES THE BIRDS PIPED AND SANG MERRILY TOGETHER. 

WHERE HAVE YOU COME FROM WITH ALL YOUR HOUSEHOLD GOODS?

SUCH STRAY WAIFS AS YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO DO ANYTHING. 

WHAT SAMI SINGS WITH THE BIRDS

CHAPTER FIRST

OLD MARY ANN

For three days the Spring sun had been shining out of a clear sky andcasting a gleaming, golden coverlet over the blue waters of Lake Geneva. Storm and rain had ceased. The breeze murmured softly and pleasantly upin the ash-trees, and all around in the green fields the yellowbuttercups and snow-white daisies glistened in the bright sunshine. Underthe ash-trees, the clear brook was running with the cool mountain waterand feeding the gaily nodding primroses and pink anemones on thehillside, as they grew and bloomed down close to the water. 

On the low wall by the brook, in the shadow of the ash-trees, an oldwoman was sitting. She was called "Old Mary Ann" throughout the wholeneighborhood. Her big basket, the weight of which had become a littleheavy, she had put down beside her. She was on her way back from La Tour, the little old town, with the vine-covered church tower and the ruinedcastle, the high turrets of which rose far across the blue lake. Old MaryAnn had taken her work there. This consisted in all kinds of mendingwhich did not need to be done particularly well, for the woman was nolonger able to do fine work, and never could do it. 

Old Mary Ann had had a very changeable life. The place where she nowfound herself was not her home. The language of the country was not herown. From the shady seat on the low wall, she now looked contentedly atthe sunny fields, then across the murmuring brook to the hillside wherethe big yellow primroses nodded, while the birds piped and sang in thegreen ash-trees above her, as if they had the greatest festival tocelebrate. 

"Every Spring, people think it never was so beautiful before, when theyhave already seen so many, " she now said half aloud to herself, and asshe gazed at the fields so rich in flowers, many of the past years roseup and passed before her, with all that she had experienced in them. 

As a child she had lived far beyond the mountains. She knew so well howit must look over there now at her father's house, which stood in a fieldamong white-blooming pear-trees. Over yonder the large village with itsmany houses could be seen. It was called Zweisimmen. Everybody calledtheir house the sergeant's house, although her father quite peacefullytilled his fields. But that came from her grandfather. When quite a youngfellow, he had gone over the mountains to Lake Geneva and then stillfarther to Savoy. Under a Duke of Savoy he had taken part in all sorts ofmilitary expeditions and had not returned home until he was an old man. He always wore an old uniform and allowed himself to be called sergeant. Then he married and Mary Ann's father was his only child. The old manlived to be a hundred years old, and every child in all the region roundknew the old sergeant. 

Mary Ann had three brothers, but as soon as one of them grew up hedisappeared, she knew not where. Only this much she understood, thather mother mourned over them, but her father said quite resignedlyevery time: "We can't help it, they will go over the mountains; theytake it from their grandfather. " She had never heard anything moreabout her brothers. 

When Mary Ann grew up and married, her young husband also came into thehouse among the pear-trees, for her father was old and could no longer dohis work alone. But after a few years Mary Ann buried her young husband;a burning fever had taken him off. Then came hard times for the widow. She had her child, little Sami, to care for, besides her old, infirmparents to look after, and moreover there was all the work to be done inthe house and in the fields which until now her husband had attended to. She did what she could, but it was of no use, the land had to be given upto a cousin. The house was mortgaged, and Mary Ann hardly knew how tokeep her old parents from want. Gradually young Sami grew up and was ableto help the cousin in the fields. Then the old parents died about thesame time, and Mary Ann hoped now by hard work and her son's help littleby little to pay up her debts and once more take possession of her fieldsand house. But as soon as her father and mother were buried, her sonSami, who was now eighteen years old, came to her and said he could nolonger bear to stay at home, he must go over the mountains and so begin anew life. This was a great shock to the mother, but when she saw thatpersuasion, remonstrance and entreaty were all in vain her father's wordscame to her mind and she said resignedly, "It can't be helped; he takesit from his great-grandfather. "

But she would not let the young man go away alone, and he was glad tohave his mother go with him. So she wandered with him over the mountains. In the little village of Chailly, which lies high up on the mountainslope and looks down on the meadows rich in flowers and the blue LakeGeneva, they found work with the jolly wine-grower Malon. This man, withcurly hair already turning grey and a kindly round face, lived alone withhis son in the only house left standing, near a crooked maple-tree. 

Mary Ann received a room for herself and was to keep house for HerrMalon, and keep everything in order for him and his son. Sami was to workfor good pay in Malon's beautiful vineyard. The widow Mary Ann passedseveral years here in a more peaceful way than she had ever known before. 

When the fourth Summer came to an end, Sami said to her one day:

"Mother, I must really marry young Marietta of St. Legier, for I am solonely away from her. "

His mother knew Marietta well and besides she liked the pretty, clevergirl, for she was not only always happy but there were few girls so goodand industrious. So she rejoiced with her son, although he would have togo away from her to live with Marietta and her aged father in St. Legier, for she was indispensable to him. Herr Malon's son also brought a youngwife home, and so Mary Ann had no more duties there, and had to look outfor herself. She kept her room for a small rent, and was able to earnenough to support herself. She now knew many people in the neighborhood, and obtained enough work. 

Mary Ann pondered over all these things, and when her thoughts returnedfrom the distant past to the present moment, and she still heard thebirds above her singing and rejoicing untiringly, she said to herself:

"They always sing the same song and we should be able to sing with them. Only trust in the dear Lord! He always helps us, although we may oftenthink there is no possible way. "

Then Mary Ann left the low wall, took her basket up again on her arm andwent through the fragrant meadows of Burier up towards Chailly. From timeto time she cast an anxious look in the direction of St. Legier. She knewthat young Marietta was lying sick up there and that her son Sami wouldnow have hard work and care, for a much smaller Sami had just come intothe world. Tomorrow Mary Ann would go over and see how things were goingwith her son and if she ought to stay with him and help. 

Mary Ann had scarcely stepped into her little room and put on her housedress, to prepare her supper, when she heard some one coming along withhurried footsteps. The door was quickly thrown open and in stepped herson Sami with a very distressed face. Under his arm he carried a bundlewrapped up in one of Marietta's aprons. This he laid on the table, threwhimself down and sobbed aloud, with his head in his arms:

"It is all over, mother, all over; Marietta is dead!"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, what are you saying?" cried his mother in thegreatest horror. "Oh, Sami, is it possible?"

Then she lifted Sami gently and continued in a trembling voice:

"Come, sit down beside me and tell me all about it. Is she really dead?Oh, when did it happen? How did it come so quickly?"

Sami willingly dropped down on a chair beside his mother. But then heburied his face in his hands and went on sobbing again. 

"Oh, I can't bear it, I must go away, mother, I can't bear it here anylonger, it is all over!"

"Oh, Sami, where would you go?" said his mother, weeping. "We havealready come over the mountains, where would you go from here?"

"I must go across the water, as far as I possibly can, I can't stay hereany longer. I cannot, mother, " declared Sami. "I must go across the greatwater as far as possible!"

"Oh, not that!" cried Mary Ann. "Don't be so rash! Wait a little, untilyou can think more calmly; it will seem different to you. "

"No, mother, no, I must go away. I am forced to it; I can't do anydifferent, " cried Sami, almost wild. 

His mother looked at him in terror, but she said nothing more. She seemedto hear her father saying: "It can't be helped. He takes it from hisgrandfather. " And with a sigh she said:

"It will have to be so. "

Then there sounded from the bundle a strange peeping, exactly as if achicken were smothering inside. "What have you put in the bundle, Sami?"asked the mother, going towards it, to loosen the firmly tied apron. 

"That's so, I had almost forgotten it, mother, " replied Sami, wipinghis eyes, "I have brought the little boy to you, I don't know what todo with it. "

"Oh, how could you pack him up so! Yes, yes, you poor little thing, " saidthe grandmother soothingly, taking the diminutive Sami out of onewrapping and then a second and a third. 

The father Sami had wrapped the little baby first in its clothes, then ina shawl, and then in the apron as tight as possible, so that it couldn'tslip out on the way, and fall on the ground. When little Sami was freedfrom the smothering wrappings and could move his arms and legs he foughtwith all his limbs in the air and screamed so pitifully that hisgrandmother thought it seemed exactly as if he already knew what a greatmisfortune had come to him. 

But father Sami said perhaps he was hungry, for since the evening beforeno one had paid any attention to the little baby. This seemed to thesympathetic Mary Ann quite too cruel, and she realised that if she didn'tcare for the poor little mite it would die. She wrapped him up againcarefully in his blanket, but not around his head, and carried himupright on her arm, not under it, as one carries a bundle. Then she ranall around her room to collect milk, a dish and fire together, so thatthe starving little creature might have some nourishment. As she sat onher stool, and the little one eagerly sipped the milk, while his tinylittle hand tightly clasped his grandmother's forefinger like alife-preserver, she said, greatly touched:

"Yes, indeed, you little Sami, you poor little orphan, I will do what Ican for you and the dear Lord will not forsake us. "

And to the big Sami she said:

"I will keep him, but don't take any rash steps! In the first greatsorrow many a one does what he later regrets. See, you can't run awayfrom sorrow, it runs with you. Stay and bear what the dear Lord sends. Heis not angry with you. Hold to him still in time of sorrow, then the sunwill shine tomorrow! It will be the same with you as it has been with somany others. " Sami had listened in silence, but like one who does notunderstand what he hears. 

"Good night, mother! May God reward you for what you do for the boy, " hesaid then, after wiping his eyes again. Then he pressed his mother'shand, and went out of the door. 

CHAPTER SECOND

AT THE GRANDMOTHER'S

Old Mary Ann had now to begin over again, where she had left offtwenty-one years before, to bring up a little Sami. But then she wasfresh and strong, she had her husband by her side, and lived at homeamong friends and acquaintances. Now she was in a strange land and was aworn-out woman, and felt that her strength would not last much longer. But little Sami did not realise all this. He was tended and cared for asif his grandmother wanted to make up to him every moment for what he hadlost, and she was always saying to him, pityingly:

"You poor little thing, you have nobody in the world now but an oldgrandmother. "

Moreover it was so. Father Sami could not be consoled. As soon as hisyoung wife was buried he went away, and must have landed a long time agoin the far away country. 

Little Sami grew finely, and as his grandmother talked with him a greatdeal, he began very early to imitate her. His words became more and moredistinct, and when the end of his second year came, he talked veryplainly and in whole sentences. His grandmother didn't know what to dofor joy, when she realised that her little Sami spoke not a word ofFrench, but pure Swiss-German, as she had heard it only in her nativeland. He spoke exactly like his grandmother, who was indeed the only onehe had to talk with. 

Now every day her baby gave her a new surprise. First he began to sayafter her the little prayer she repeated for him morning and evening;then he said it all alone. She had to weep for joy when the little onebegan to sing after her the little Summer song she had learned in her ownchildhood and had always sung to him, and one day suddenly knew the wholesong from beginning to end and sang one verse after another withouthesitation. 

In spite of all the grandmother's trouble and work, the years passed soquickly to her, that one day when she began to reckon she discovered thatSami must be fully seven years old. Then she thought it was really timethat he learned something. But suddenly to send the boy to a Frenchschool when he didn't understand a word of French seemed dreadful to her, for he would be as helpless as a chicken in water. She would rather try, as well as she possibly could, to teach him herself to read. She thoughtit would be very hard but it went quite easily. In a short time, theyoungster knew all his letters, and could even put words together quitewell. That something could be made out of this which he could understandand which he did not know before was very amusing to him, and he sat overhis reading-book with great eagerness. But to go out with his grandmotherto deliver her mending and to get new work was a still greater pleasureto him, for nothing pleased him better than roaming through the greenmeadows, then stopping at the brook to listen to the birds singing up inthe ash-trees. 

The changeable April days had just come to an end and the beaming May sunshone so warm and alluring that all the flowers looked up to it withwide-open petals. Mary Ann with Sami by the hand, her big basket on herarm, was coming along up from La Tour. The boy opened both his eyes aswide as he could, for the red and blue flowers in the green grass and thegolden sunshine above them delighted him very much. 

"Grandmother, " he said taking a deep breath, "to-day we will sit on thelow wall for twelve long hours, won't we, really?"

"Yes, indeed, " assented his grandmother, "we will stay there long enoughto get well rested and enjoy ourselves; but when the sun goes down and itgrows dark, then we will go. Then all the little birds are silent in thetrees and the old night-owl begins to hoot. "

This seemed right to Sami, for he didn't want to hear the old owl hoot. Now they had reached the wall. A cool shadow was lying on it; below thefresh brook murmured, and up in the ash-trees the birds piped and sangmerrily together and one kept singing very distinctly:

"Sing too! Sing too!"

Sami listened. Suddenly he lifted up his voice and sang as loud andlustily as the birds above, the whole song that his grandmother hadtaught him:

Last night Summer breezes blew:--All the flowers awake anew, Open wide their eyes to see, Nodding, bowing in their glee. 

All the merry birds we hearGreet the sunshine bright and clear;See them flitting thru the sky, Singing low and singing high!

Flowers in Summer warmth delight:--What of Winter and its blight?Snowy fields and forests cold?Flowers are by their faith consoled. 

Songsters, all so blithe and gay, Know ye what your carols say?How will your sweet carols fareWhen your nests the snow-storms tear?

All the birdlings everywhereNow their loveliest songs prepare;All the birdlings gayly sing:--"Trust the Lord in everything!"

Then Sami listened very attentively, as if he wanted to hear whether thebirds really sang so. 

"Listen, listen, grandmother!" he said after a while. "Up there in thetree is one that doesn't sing like the others. At first he keeps singing'Trust! Trust! Trust! Trust!' and then the rest comes after. "

"Yes, yes, that is the finch, Sami, " she replied. "See, he wants toimpress it upon you, so that you will think about what will always keepyou safe and happy. Just listen, now, he is calling again: Trust! trust!trust! trust! trust! Only trust the dear Lord. "

Sami listened again. It was really wonderful, how the finch alwayssounded above the other birds with his emphatic "Trust! trust! trust!""You must never forget what the finch calls, " continued the grandmother. "See, Sami, perhaps I cannot stay with you much longer, and then you willhave no one else, and will have to make your way alone. Then the littlebird's song can oftentimes be a comfort to you. So don't forget it, andpromise me too that you will say your little prayer every day, so thatyou will be God-fearing; then no matter what happens, it will be wellwith you. "

Sami promised that he would never forget to pray. Then he becamethoughtful and asked somewhat timidly:

"Must I always be afraid, grandmother?"

"No, no! Did you think so because I said God-fearing? It doesn't meanthat: I will explain it to you as well as I can. You see to beGod-fearing is when one has the dear Lord before his eyes in everythinghe does, and fears and hesitates to do what is not pleasing to Him, everything that is wicked and wrong. Whoever lives so before Him has noreason to fear what may happen to him, for such a man has the dear Lord'shelp everywhere, and if he has to meet hardship oftentimes, he knows thatthe dear Lord allows it so, in order that some good may come out of itfor him, and then he can sing as happily as the little birds: 'Only trustthe dear Lord!' Will you remember that well, Sami?"

"Yes, that I will, " said Sami, decidedly, for this pleased him muchbetter, than if he had to be always afraid. 

Now the setting sun cast its last long rays across the meadows, anddisappeared. The grandmother left the wall, took Sami by the hand andthen the two wandered in the rosy twilight along the meadow path, then up the green vine-clad hill to the little village of Chailly upon the mountain. 

CHAPTER THIRD

ANOTHER LIFE

One morning, a few days later, Mary Ann was so tired she couldn't get up. Sami sat beside her waiting for her to be fully awake in order to go intothe kitchen and make the coffee. His grandmother opened her eyes once andfell asleep again. She had never done anything like this before. Now shewas really awake. She tried to raise herself up a little, then took Samiby the hand and said in a low voice:

"Sami, listen to me, I must tell you something. See, when I am no longerwith you, you have no one else here, and are an entire stranger. Butthere over the mountains you have relatives, and you must return to them. Malon will tell you how to get there. You must go to Zweisimmen. Thereask for the sergeant, your cousin, who lives in the house with the bigpear-trees near it. Tell him your grandmother was the sergeant's Mary Annand your father was Sami. Work hard and willingly, you will have to earnyour living. There in the chest is some money in the little bag; take it, it is yours; don't spend it foolishly. Sami, think of what you promisedme. Don't neglect to pray, it will bring you comfort and happiness whichyou will need. Try to associate with God-fearing people and live withthem, then you will learn only good. Go, now, Sami, and call Herr Malon. I must talk with him. "

Sami went and came back with the man of the house. He stepped up to MaryAnn's bed, and tried to encourage her, as that was his way. But he wasalarmed at her appearance and wanted to go for the doctor, as he toldher. But she held him fast and tried with great difficulty to expressherself in his language, for she had only a scanty knowledge of it. Malonnodded his head understandingly and then hurried away. When he returnedto the room a couple of hours later with the doctor, Sami was stillsitting in the same place by the bed, waiting very quietly for hisgrandmother to wake up again. The doctor drew near the bed. Then he spokewith Malon a while, and finally came to Sami. He told him his grandmotherwould never wake again, that she was dead. 

Malon was a good man; he said he himself would go with Sami part of theway until he found some one who could talk with him and take him further;but he must put all his belongings together in a bundle. Then the two menwent away. 

After a while the young woman of the house came, for the forsaken boy haddeeply aroused her sympathy. She found Sami still sitting in the sameplace by the bed. He was looking steadfastly at his grandmother andweeping piteously. The woman spoke to him, but he did not understand her. Then she took everything out of the cupboard and drawers, packed theminto a bundle and showed Sami that he was to eat the bread and milk onthe table. Sami swallowed the milk obediently, but the woman put thebread in his pocket. Then she led the boy once more to the bed, that hemight take his grandmother's hand in farewell. 

Sami obeyed still sobbing, and let himself be led away by the woman. HerrMalon was already waiting beside his little cart in which lay Sami'sbundle. The boy understood that he was to draw the cart, but he knew notwhere. He wept softly to himself for it seemed to him as if he were goingout into the wilderness where he would be wholly alone. Malon went onahead of him. 

It was the same way Sami had often gone with his grandmother down to LaTour. When he came to the wall by the brook, he sobbed aloud. How lovelyit had been there with his grandmother! He could not see the way becauseof his falling tears, but he heard Herr Malon's heavy step in front ofhim, and he followed after. At the little station house above thevine-covered church Malon stopped. Soon after the train came puffingalong. Malon got in and pulled Sami after him, and they started away. Sami crouched in a corner and did not stir. They travelled thus for anhour. Sami did not understand a word that was spoken around him, althoughseveral times one and another tried to talk with him a little, for thesoftly weeping boy had indeed awakened their sympathy. 

The train stopped again. Malon got out and Sami followed him. They went ashort distance together and then Malon stepped to the left into a largegarden and then into the house. Here he talked a while with the man ofthe house, who from time to time looked pityingly at Sami. Then Malontook Sami's hand, shook it and left him behind alone in the big room. 

After some time the man of the house came back and a sturdy fellow behindhim. The latter began to talk in Sami's own language. He wanted toconsole the boy and said he would soon go on in a carriage. Then Samiasked if he was his cousin, and if this was the village of Zweisimmen?But the fellow laughed loudly and said he was no cousin, but a servanthere in the inn, and the place was called Aigle. Sami would have totravel an hour longer and would not reach Zweisimmen before twelveo'clock at night. But there was a coachman here from Interlaken, who hadto go back and would take him along. 

The man of the house had bread and eggs brought for Sami and when he saidhe wasn't hungry, he put everything kindly into the boy's pocket. Then heled the boy out. Outside stood a large coach with two horses and high upon the top sat the driver. No one was inside. Sami was lifted up, thedriver placed him next himself and drove away. At any other time thiswould have pleased Sami very much, but now he was too sad. He keptthinking of his grandmother, who could no longer talk with him and wouldnever wake again. After some time the driver began to talk to him. Samihad to tell him where he came from and to whom he was going. He told himeverything, how he had lived with his grandmother, how she had fallenasleep early that day, and did not wake up again; and that he was goingto find a cousin in Zweisimmen and would have to live with him. Sami'schildish description touched the driver so deeply that he finally said:

"It will be too late when we reach there, you must stay with meto-night. "

Then when he saw Sami's eyes close with the approaching twilight and onlyopen again when they went over a stone, and the two of them up on the boxwere jounced almost dangerously against each other, he grasped the boyfirmly, lifted him up and slipped him backwards into the coach. Here hefell at once fast asleep and when he finally opened his eyes again, thesun was shining brightly in his face. He was lying in his clothes on ahuge, big bed in a room with white walls. In all his life he had neverseen such walls. He looked around in consternation. Then the coachman ofthe day before came in the door. 

[Illustration: "Where have you come from with all your household goods?"]

"Have you had your sleep out?" he said laughing. "Come and have somecoffee with me. Then I will take you to your cousin. Some one else mustcarry your bundle. It is too heavy for you. "

Sami followed him into the coffee-room. Here the good man kept pouringout coffee for the boy, but Sami could neither eat nor drink. 

When the coachman had finished his breakfast, he rose and started withSami on the way to the sergeant's house. It was not far. At the house inthe meadow among the pear-trees he laid Sami's bundle down, shook him bythe hand and said:

"Well, good luck to you. I have nothing to do in there and havefarther to go. "

Sami thanked him for all his kindness, and gazed after his benefactor, until he disappeared behind the trees. Then he knocked on the door. Awoman came out, looked in amazement first at the boy, then at his bigbundle, and said rudely: "Where have you come from with all yourhousehold goods?"

Sami informed her where he had come from and that his grandmother wasMary Ann, and his father, Sami. Meanwhile three boys had come running upto them, placed themselves directly in front of him, and were looking athim from top to toe with wide-open eyes. This embarrassed Samiexceedingly. 

"Bring your father out, " said the mother to one of her boys. Their fatherwas sitting inside at the table, eating his breakfast. 

"What's the matter now?" he growled. 

"There is someone here, who claims to be a relative of yours. He doesn'tknow where he is going, " exclaimed his wife. 

"He can come in to me, perhaps I can tell him, if I know, " replied theman, without moving. 

"Well, go in, " directed the woman, giving Sami an assisting push. The boywent in and replied very timidly, where he had come from and to whom hehad belonged. The peasant scratched his head. 

"Make quick work of it, " said the woman impatiently, who had followedwith her three boys. 

"I think we have enough with the three of them, and there are people whomight need such a boy. "

"This is quickly decided, " said the peasant, thoughtfully cutting hispiece of bread in two; "send all four boys out. "

After this command had been carried out, he continued slowly: "There isno help for it. It was stipulated at the time the house was sold, thatroom must be made in the house if either Mary Ann, Sami or the childshould come back. Besides, it is not so bad as it seems. Where threesleep together there is room for a fourth, and he can do some work forhis food. The parish can do something for his clothes. "

His wife had no desire to have a fourth added to her three boys, for herown made enough noise and trouble for her. She protested, saying sheknew how it was with such stray children and they could expect to have afine time!

But it was of no use; it was decided that Sami should have a place in thehouse. The farmer brought in the bundle and carried it up to the oldestboy's room, where until now the broad-shouldered Stöffi had slept in a bedalone. He could take Sami in with him, for he was smaller than the othertwo; Michael and Uli could stay together as before. 

Then the woman opened the bundle. She was not a little surprised, whenshe found inside not only Sami's clothes, all in the best of order, butalso two good dresses, aprons and neckerchiefs. She called Sami up toher, and showed him the corner in the chest where she had put his things. Then she said she would take the woman's clothes for herself, since hecould surely make no use of them. The clothes which his grandmother hadalways worn were so dear to Sami, that he looked on with sad eyes, asthey were carried away, but he thought it had to be so. 

He had already made the acquaintance of the three boys. They had shownhim below in front of the house how one of them could best throw down theothers, and had demonstrated all sorts of useful tricks. But as eachtried to outdo the others in showing off his knowledge, a struggle ensuedand the tricks were immediately applied; one threw another over thethird, Sami was knocked and thrown around by all three. 

When he now came down from his room a voice from the barn called out:"Come here and help pull. "

Sami ran along. There stood the two younger boys, Michael and Uli, withgreat hoes on their shoulders, and Stöffi beside a cart which had to betaken along. They waited for their father, and then all went out to thefield. Here Stöffi and Sami had to rake together the grass, which thefather cut, and load it on the cart, and bring home to the cows. Michaeland Uli had to hoe the weeds in the next field near by. Now it appearedthat Sami did not know at all how to use the rake, for he had never donesuch work. 

"He shall weed with Uli, and Michael can do this work, " said the farmer. 

But when Sami tried to do this, the hoe was too heavy for him, and hecould do nothing. 

"Then kneel on the ground and pull them up with your hands, " saidthe farmer. 

Sami squatted down and pulled at the weeds with all his might. The groundwas hard and the work very tiresome. But Sami did not forget how hisgrandmother had impressed it upon him to do all his work well andwillingly. 

At noon the two weeders took their hoes on their shoulders and Sami hadto pull the cart, which was now much heavier than on the way there. Theboy had to use all his strength, for Stöffi showed him plainly that hewould not take upon himself the larger part of the work. 

Then when they passed by the field the father indicated to each one thepiece he would have to weed that afternoon; for he himself would beobliged to go to the cattle market. They would find a smaller hoe at homefor Sami to take with him in the afternoon, for pulling up the weeds wastoo slow work. 

After the boys had worked several hours in the afternoon, they sat downin the shade of an old apple-tree to eat their luncheon, and the piece ofblack bread with pear juice tasted very good after the hot work. 

"Have you ever seen a bear?" asked Stöffi of Sami. 

He said he had not. 

"Then you would be fearfully frightened if you should suddenly see one, "continued Stöffi; "only those who know them are not afraid of them. Thisevening there is to be one in the village, and, as I am almost throughwith my piece in the field, you can finish it, so I can go early to seethe bear. "

Sami agreed. When all four had begun to hoe again, Stöffi soon exclaimed:

"Well, you won't have much more to do now, Sami, but keep yourpromise, or--"

Stöffi doubled up his fist, and Sami understood what that meant. 

He had hardly gone when Michael said:

"See, Sami, there isn't much left of mine, you can do that too; I amgoing to see the bear. "

Whereupon Michael ran off. 

"Me, too, " cried Uli, throwing down his hoe. "You can finish thatalso, Sami. "

When the twilight came on and the family put the sour milk and thesteaming potatoes on the table, Sami was missing. 

"I suppose he will keep us waiting, " remarked the farmer's wifesharply. When all had finished and the milk mugs were empty, the womancleared them away and placed the few potatoes left over on the kitchentable and growled:

"He can eat here, if he wants anything. "

It was quite dark, and Sami still had not come. Just as the other threewere being sent to bed, he came in, so tired he could hardly stand. Thewoman asked him harshly, if he couldn't come home with the others. Thefarmer assumed that the piece he had told Sami to weed had been too muchfor him to do, and he said consolingly:

"It is right that you wanted to finish your work, but you mustwork faster. "

Sami understood the signs which Stöffi made behind his father's back, that he was to keep silent about the bear, and he was too much afraid ofthe three boys' fists to say anything about it. 

He preferred to go straight to bed, for he was too tired to eat. But hecouldn't go to sleep. He had received so many new impressions, he hadborne so much anguish, and had to do so much work besides, he could thinkof nothing else. But now his grandmother came before his eyes again asshe had prayed with him at evening and had been so kind to him, andeverything she had told him. He wanted so much to pray, it seemed to himas if his grandmother was near and told him the dear Lord would alwayscomfort him if he prayed, and that comfort he was so anxious to have. 

He was so troubled, when he wondered if he could do his work the nextday, so that the farmer would not be cross, and how his wife would be, for he was very much afraid of her, and how it would be with the boys, who forced him to make everything appear contrary to the truth. 

Then Sami began to pray and prayed for a long time, for he already beganto feel comforted, because he could take refuge with the dear Lord andask Him to help him, now that he had no one left in the world to whom hecould speak and who could assist him. When at last his eyes closed fromgreat weariness he dreamed he was sitting with his grandmother on thewall and above them all the birds were singing so loud and so joyfullythat he had to sing with them: "Only trust the dear Lord!"

CHAPTER FOURTH

HARD TIMES

The following morning Sami was awakened by loud tones, but it was nolonger the birds singing; it was the farmer's wife ordering the boysharshly to get up right away. She had already called them three times, and if this time they didn't obey, their father would come. Then theyall sprang out of bed and in a few minutes were down-stairs, wheretheir father was already sitting at the table and would not have waitedmuch longer. 

The day did not pass very differently from the one before, and thuspassed a long series of days. There was already a change in the work. 

Sami, little by little, learned to do everything very well, for he tookpains and followed his grandmother's advice carefully. He always hadsomething to do for the other boys still, so that he never finished hiswork a moment before supper-time. But he was no longer late. A change hadalso come about in this. Stöffi had learned that there was one thing Samicould not or would not do which he himself could do very well: he couldnot tell a lie. 

He had been late again a couple of times, but had never told the reason. Finally, however, the farmer had spoken harshly:

"Now speak out, and tell why you can't get through your work faster; youare quick enough when anyone is watching you. "

Then Sami had accordingly told all the truth, and the father hadthreatened to beat the boys if they didn't do their work themselves. Afterwards Stöffi had thrashed Sami to punish him, and had warned himthat he would do it every time Sami complained of him. 

Sami had replied that he had never complained and didn't want to do so, but when his father questioned him he could only tell him the truth. Stöffi tried to explain to him that it didn't matter whether he told thetruth or not, but here he found Sami more obstinate than he had expected, and no matter what fearful threats he hurled at him, he always said thesame thing in the end:

"But I shall do it. "

This firmness was the result of Sami's sure conviction that the dear Lordheard and knew everything and that lying was something wicked, which didnot please Him. 

So Stöffi had to find some other way to get off from his work early andmake Sami finish what he left. He found that all three could never dareabandon their work and leave it for Sami, but one of them might do soeach evening, and he threatened to punish his brothers severely if theywould not agree to this. Then there would always be three or fourevenings in succession when Stöffi wanted to go away early; then thebrothers had to stay and work, and this led to many a quarrel, with heavyblows which regularly fell upon Sami. 

So he never had any happy days. But every evening he could be alone withhis thoughts of his grandmother, of all the beautiful bygone days and allthe good words she had spoken to him. Nobody troubled him, or called tohim, or pulled him then, as usually happened all day long. 

Thus the Summer and Autumn passed away, and a cold Winter had come. Therewas no more work to be done in the fields and meadows, but there were allsorts of things to be done to help the farmer in the barn and his wife inthe house and the kitchen. This Sami had to do. 

Meanwhile their own three boys could go to school, which had now begunagain, for they had to get some education. Sami could get that by and by. In the Summer he had acquired a good deal of quickness and now did hiswork so skilfully that the farmer said a couple of times:

"I would not have believed it, for in the Summer he was always the last. "

Sami now thought that everything would go easier than in the Summer, butsomething came which was much harder to bear than the extra burden ofwork, which was too much for the others. 

Every day the boys fought in the field outside, and Sami, as thesmallest, always came off with the most blows. But that was the end ofit, and when the boys came home at night no one thought any more aboutit. In the evening the three boys were assigned to the little room withthe feeble light of a low oil lamp, to do their arithmetic for school, while Sami had to cut apples and pears for drying. From the first thethree were angry because Sami had no arithmetic to do, and then one wouldaccuse the other of taking the light away from him, and all three wouldscream that Sami didn't need any at all for his work. Then one would pullthe lamp one way, and another the other way, until it was upset and theoil would run over the table into Sami's apples. Then there would be areally murderous tumult in the darkness; all hands would grope in the oiland one would always outcry the others. Then the mother would come invery cross and want to know who was always starting such mischief. Thenone would blame the other, and finally the blame would fall on Sami, because he made the least noise. Usually the farmer too came in then, andhis angry wife would always reply that she had indeed said the boy wouldbe an apple of discord in the house, and a Winter like this they hadnever experienced. Often Sami had to endure many hard words andundeserved punishment. On such evenings he remained sleepless for a longtime sitting on his bed. 

Then he would rack his brains as to how it could happen so, since hisgrandmother had told him that if he was God-fearing everything wouldhappen for the best. That he should be so scolded and badly treated wasnot the best for him. He really wanted to be God-fearing and not forgetthat the dear Lord saw and heard everything. But Sami was still veryyoung and could not know, what he later knew, that it is good foreveryone if he learns early in life to bear hardship. Then when the evildays, which none escape, come again later on, he can cope with thembravely, because he knows them already and his strength has becomehardened; and when the good days come he can enjoy them as no one elsecan who has never tasted the bad ones. 

At this time Sami knew nothing about this and almost never went to sleepwithout tears; indeed, he often wondered whether the birds were stillcalling up in the ash-trees: "Only trust in the dear Lord!" and if itwere still true that everything would come out right. The only comfortfor him was that his grandmother had told him so positively, and he heldfast to that. 

It was a long, hard Winter. The snow lay so deep and immovable on themeadows and trees, that Sami often asked with anxiety in his heart, if itwould ever entirely disappear, so that the meadows would be greenagain, and the flowers become alive. It was already April, and the coldwhite covering of snow still lay all around. Then a warm wind from theSouth blew all one night into the valley, and when on the next day a verywarm rain fell, the obstinate snow melted into great brooks. Then camethe sun and dried up all the brooks, and everywhere the new young grasssprang up over the meadows. 

The four boys came across the big street of the village and turned intothe meadow. They were pulling along the cart, on which lay the cookingutensils which the farmer's wife had just purchased at the annual fair inthe village. The boys had followed their mother's command to go slowlyand carefully, so that nothing would be broken, for they knew very wellthat their mother set great store by these things, and it was worth whileto follow her instructions. 

Now that they had come safely over the rough street and had turned intothe meadow road, two pulling, two pushing, they wanted to rest a littlewhile. They stopped under the first large pear-tree, stretchedthemselves out on the ground and looked up into the blue sky. In thepear-tree above, the birds were singing merrily together, and suddenlyone piped up in the midst of the others, always the same note, exactly asif he had a special call to give. 

"There he is, " cried Sami, springing up from the ground with delight. Then he listened again, and again sounded the staccato call, clear andsharp above the singing of all the other birds. 

"Do you hear it? Do you hear it?" cried Sami in his delight. "Now he iscalling again: 'Trust! Trust! Trust! Trust!' And then they all singtogether: 'Only trust the dear Lord!'"

"You are just talking nonsense!" exclaimed Stöffi to the happy Sami. "Thebird is more knowing than you are. That is the rain bird; I know himwell. He notices the rain-wind and is calling: 'Shower! Shower! Shower!'Then we know it is going to rain. "

But Sami would not give up what was so dear to him and kept sayingto himself:

"But he is singing: 'Trust! Trust! Trust! Trust!'"

"Keep quiet!" continued Stöffi sharply to him. "You are nothing but alittle tramp, who can't do anything and doesn't know anything and twistseverything he hears. "

Then the blood rose to Sami's cheeks and the tears came into his eyesand, more courageously than usual towards Stöffi, he cried:

"I don't do that, but you have done it many times!"

Then Stöffi sprang up and seized hold of Sami to throw him down; but inhis anger Sami turned quite differently from usual, so that Stöffi had tocall the others to help him. 

A great struggle ensued; the blows became more and more violent, first onone side and then on the other. Suddenly the cart was upset. A fearfulcracking and crashing sounded, and a great heap of red, brown and whitecrockery lay on the ground. Dumb with fright, the boys stood and lookedat the destruction. 

Stöffi was the first to recover himself. 

"We will say that a wheel came off the cart, and it suddenly fell down. "He immediately picked up a big stone in order to pound out the nail andtake the wheel off from the axle. 

"I shall say just how it all happened, that we quarreled, and upset thewagon, " said Sami calmly. 

Then Steffi's wrath rose to its height. 

"You traitor, you spy and mischief-maker!" he screamed. "You are nothingbut a ragamuffin. We will force you. "

"You cannot, " said Sami, "and you are no good either! If you wereGod-fearing, you would not want to lie so. "

"Well, well, " they all screamed together, and shaking their fists in themost threatening way. "You needn't say that. We are just exactly asGod-fearing as you, and even much more so!"

Suddenly a new thought came to Stöffi. He ran off with all his might, andMichael and Uli rushed after him. Sami saw that they were hurrying to thehouse; he followed slowly after. The farmer's wife had come back to thehouse by a shorter way, and the farmer was just returning home too fromthe field, when the three boys came rushing along. The whole family wasstanding in great excitement at the door and all were talking loudlytogether and making threatening gestures, when Sami came along. He wasmet by the farmer, shaking his fist, and his wife threw such harsh wordsat him that he stood quite dumfounded. 

"That was the last straw, " she said, "that after all the kindness he hadreceived he should tell them they were not God-fearing people. "

Then the farmer joined in. Such talk was insolent from Sami, and it hadbeen known for a long time how upright they were in his house, beforesuch a scamp had come there and tried to show them the way. Then his wifebegan again and said Sami would have nothing more to do in her house; forhe had brought nothing but trouble since he stepped into it; he could goto his room, and she would come right along. 

Sami was so surprised and confused by all the attacks and charges, thathe had stood quite dumb until now. Now he wanted to explain how the carthad been upset, but the father said they knew everything already, and allhe had to do was to go to his room. He obeyed. 

Soon the farmer's wife came upstairs, packed Sami's things together andtied them up again into a bundle, which was now much smaller than whenhe had brought it there, for some pieces of his old things had beenworn out and were not replaced, and his grandmother's clothes were nolonger there. 

While she was packing the woman kept on talking very angrily about Sami'swickedness and insolence, so that he now for the first time understood itall. The boys had stated that he had reproached them for not beingGod-fearing people; they had punished him for it, and through hisresistance he had overturned the cart. Sami now tried to explain to thewoman that it had not happened so, but she said she knew enough, threwhis tied-up bundle beside his bed, and went out. 

Now for the first time Sami was able to think over what had happened tohim and what was going to come. Then he was angry because he had to bearsuch injustice and not once have a chance to speak. And now he was drivenout, or perhaps he would be sent to people where it would be even worsefor him. Then he was so overcome with anger and fear and anguish, that hebegan to cry aloud and called out:

"Yes, yes, Grandmother, you said if I was God-fearing everything wouldhappen to me for the best; and I have been, and now it has happenedthis way!"

But with the thought of his grandmother, there rose in his heart all thememories of his life with her, how they had wandered so peacefullythrough the meadows, and how beautiful it had been under those trees, howthe birds had sung and the brook murmured, and suddenly Sami was mightilyovercome, and he exclaimed:

"Away! away! Over there! over there!"

From that moment on a bright light rose in his heart. It was hope in anew life as beautiful as the first had been. Then Sami said his eveningprayer gladly and fell asleep. 

CHAPTER FIFTH

THE BIBDS ARE STILL SINGING

The next morning when Sami sat at the table with the family, no one saida word to him. The farmer's wife pushed a piece of bread towards hiscoffee-cup and made up an unfriendly face. The farmer was no different. The three boys looked sourly down at their coffee-cups, for they had nogood consciences, and all three feared that their lies of the day beforemight yet be found out, if Sami should happen to speak. 

When they rose from the table, the farmer said shortly:

"Get your bundle! I shall have to lose more time with you, until I havefound a place for you, for surely no one will want you. "

Since the night before a change had taken place in Sami. He no longerhung his head, as he had done almost always before from fear; he liftedit up and said:

"I know already where I must go. "

The farmer and his wife looked at each other in astonishment. 

"I want to go over the mountains, " he added. 

"Yes, that is best, that he should go back there, where he came from, "said the farmer's wife quickly; "there will no doubt be someone goingover there from the inn. Go quickly with him up there. "

This seemed right to the farmer also. The leave-taking was as short aspossible, and Sami was light-hearted when he started with his littlebundle on his back away from his cousins' house. 

At the inn, sure enough, they found a driver who was going with a bigwood-wagon to Château d'Æux. He was ready to take the boy with him andthought he would be able to find someone to take him farther, if the boyknew his way down there on the French side. The farmer said Sami had beenbrought up there and wanted to go back, he knew where. 

Now the driver was ready. Sami's bundle was thrown into the wagon and theboy seated on it. 

"Good luck!" said the farmer, gave Sami his hand and went away. 

Then the driver swung himself up on his seat and the two strong horsesstarted off. Although the wood-wagon was far less handsome and easy thanthe coach in which Sami had come, still he sat much happier in his hardseat than when he had left his grandmother lying so alone and had to goaway, without knowing where. Now he was going home, where he kneweverything and where everything was dear to him, every tree and everywall by the way; and although he wouldn't see his grandmother any longer, he would find all the places where he had been with her and where it wasmore beautiful than anywhere else. With these thoughts a multitude ofquestions arose in Sami's mind: Would everything be still the same asbefore? Would the ash-trees still be standing there by the wall? and thered and yellow flowers be growing on the hillside? And Sami had so muchto think about that he didn't notice how the time was passing. So he wasvery much astonished when the wagon stopped, for they had come to a largevillage, and the driver took firm hold of him, lifted him up and set himdown on the street. Sami looked around him. They had stopped in front ofan inn, above which a big brown bear stood for a sign and which wassurrounded by all kinds of vehicles. But he couldn't look around anylonger, for the driver had already seized him again and lifted himtogether with his bundle into another team and then went away. Soon hecame back with a large piece of bread and said:

"There, eat; you still have far to go. "

"Are we yet in Château d'Æux?" asked Sami. 

"Yes, to be sure, but you are going farther, " was the reply; then thedriver disappeared. 

Sami was now sitting in a small country wagon to which an enormous horsewas harnessed. No one was as yet up in the high seat, but Sami was seatedwith his bundle back in the empty space on the floor. Then two big, stoutmen climbed up on the high seat, and they started away. After a shorttime Sami's eyes closed involuntarily, he slipped off on the floor ofthe wagon, his head fell over on his bundle, and he sank into a deepsleep. When he woke again, he was still in the wagon on the floor, buteverything was quiet around him; he did not hear the horse trotting; thewagon was no longer moving forward. It looked very strange all aroundhim. He looked, and looked again, until he realized what had happened. The wagon was standing without horse or driver in a shed; they hadforgotten Sami and left him lying there. 

"Where can I be?" Sami asked himself. The door of the shed stood open, and outside there was bright sunshine. Sami climbed down from hissleeping-place, stepped outside and went a little way farther around thehouse, which stood directly in front of the shed. Then he kneweverything about it--there stood the house with the garden, where he hadtaken the beautiful coach; right before him was the railway station--hewas in Aigle again. Only a little way farther in the train and he wouldbe at home!

Then it came to Sami that here he could no longer talk with the people, for now he was among the French. But he knew what to do. He still had thelittle bag with his grandmother's money. He ran to the place where thepeople were getting their tickets, laid a piece of money in front of thelittle window, and said: "La Tour!"

Immediately he had his ticket; he sprang into the train, which wasalready standing outside, and crouched down quickly in his corner, thevery same corner where he had sat before with Herr Malon. He knew all thenames which were called out at the stations; nearer and nearer hecame--now--"La Tour!" He jumped down and ran to the right across thefields, then to the left up the hill. He knew every tree along the way. Now--there stood the wall, there stood the ash-trees and their tops werewaving to and fro. Underneath, the clear brook was murmuring, and above, on the hillside, the bright sun was shining on the big golden primrosesand the red anemones. It was all exactly as it had been before! Moreover, above--oh, that was the most beautiful of all!--up in the ash-trees thebirds were piping and singing as loudly and as merrily as ever and, to besure, there was the chief singer, the finch. "Trust! Trust! Trust!Trust!" sounded his clear song, and all the birds joined in with theirwarbling and rejoiced loudly:

"Only trust the dear Lord!"

Sami was so overcome because everything was still exactly the same as hehad known it before, that he stood speechless for a long time andlistened, looking around him and listening again. It seemed so good tohim and he had never felt such happiness in his heart since that eveningwhen he had sat there with his grandmother. Now his grandmother rose sovividly before him, that he suddenly threw himself down on the wall andwept. She was no longer there, and would come back to him no more. Butall the good words she had spoken to him here that evening rose vividlyin his heart, and it seemed as if he distinctly heard her talking again, and as if she must really be quite near and see him. 

Sami straightened himself up again, sat a while longer listening, andthen began to think what he should do. At first he wanted to go to Malonand ask him if he could work for him, perhaps get out the weeds in hisvineyard. But he could not explain to him why he was there again; theywould not understand each other and Malon might think he had donesomething wrong and had been sent away for it by his cousin. But perhapsthe woman who always gave mending to his grandmother would set him towork in her garden. She lived down below, near the Lake. He jumped downfrom the wall. Once more he looked at the hillside, and up into the tree, but he could come here again; he was here and could stay here. 

On the way he thought how he could explain to the woman what he wanted todo for her. He would bend down and show her how he could pull up theweeds; then he would show her by a gesture that he knew how to hoe. 

There stood already the old castle of La Tour before him, with its twohigh, weather-beaten towers, which he had looked at so many times. Allaround and high up thick ivy covered the old walls, and above themmultitudes of merry birds were chirping. Sami had to stop and listen totheir happy singing for a while, then he went along by the high old wallaround the courtyard, for he wanted to see if it was still the same asbefore down below in the lonely place where the water kept falling on theold stones and singing a gentle song. He had once stood there a long timewith his grandmother. There lay the place before him, but it was notlonely. A big wagon was standing there, with a grey cover stretched overit. No horse stood in front of it, but a thin nag was nibbling the hedge, and this evidently belonged to the wagon. Near the old castle tower afire was blazing merrily; a man was sitting by it, hammering with all hismight. Close by him four little children were crawling around on theground. Sami stood still at this unexpected sight, then came slowly alittle nearer. Then he heard the man warning the children not to come sonear the fire. This he was doing in Sami's own language, exactly as allthe people in Zweisimmen had spoken. This gave courage to Sami; he camealong quite near, and watched the man mend a hole in an old pan. 

"Does it please you?" asked the man, after Sami had looked on attentivelyfor some time. The boy answered by nodding his head. 

"Are you French, that you can't talk?" asked the man again. 

Sami then said he could talk, but not at all in French, but he was gladthat the tinker spoke German, because otherwise he would not be able tounderstand anyone there. 

"Whom do you belong to?" asked the man again. 

"Nobody, " answered Sami. 

Then the man wanted to know where he had come from and why he had comeamong the French. Sami told him his history, and how he had only comethere again that morning. 

"And now don't you know at all what you are going to do, and where youare going?" asked the man. 

Sami said he did not. 

"If I knew that you would do something, and not just stand around andlook in the air, I would give you work, " continued the man, "but suchstray waifs as you are not willing to do anything. "

Meanwhile a woman had come from the wagon. She had heard her husband'slast words. 

"Take him, " she said. "What work is there for him? He might run errands;all boys can do that. I never get through with the running about and thefour bawlers, and the cooking besides; take him!"

"Well, stay here, " said the man; "you can carry the pan back; it is verygood that you know the way. "

Sami had suddenly found a place; he did not himself know how, but he wasvery glad about it. Quite content, he started out with his pan and didexactly as the tinker had told him. He wandered through the long streetof La Tour, went into every house and showed his mended pan. He madesignificant gestures, to make the people understand that he would like toget more articles to mend. This he did so eagerly and earnestly that mostof the people burst out laughing, and this put them in such good humorthat they always found a pan or a kettle with a hole hi it which theyhanded him to be repaired. 

Thus in a short time Sami had collected as much old stuff as he was ableto carry, and could now take his pan to the house pointed out to him, where it belonged. Then he turned back. 

[Illustration: "Such stray waifs as you are not willing ta do anything. "]

The tinker was very much pleased with Sami's harvest and his wife saidvery kindly, if he kept on doing like that, he would get along all right, but he must sit down at once and have some supper. The four littlechildren were no longer there. Sami guessed that they were lying out inthe wagon asleep. On the fire a pot was now standing. It was bubblingmerrily inside and from under the cover came forth a very inviting odor. Sami had never been so hungry in his life before, for he had had nothingthe whole day but the rest of the piece of bread which the driver hadgiven him the day before in Château d'Æux. 

The woman took the cover off the pot and filled three dishes with thegood-smelling soup. Each of the three now placed his dish before him onthe ground, and the meal began. 

Nothing had ever tasted so good to Sami in all his life as this soup. Itwas not a thin soup, it was as thick as pulp, of cooked peas andpotatoes, and with this quite large lumps of meat came into his spoon. 

When he had finished, the woman said:

"You can go to sleep whenever you want to. In the back of the wagon thereis room, and your bundle will make a good pillow. "

This seemed a little strange to Sami, and he said:

"Must I sleep in my clothes?"

The woman thought he would find that he would not be too warm in thenight. He would be ready all the sooner in the morning. Then he couldwash his face quickly down in the lake and be all in order again forthe next day. 

Sami was tired. He went immediately to the wagon and climbed up from theback, and was able to slip in under the big cover. There was a littleroom where he could lie down, and next him came the four little children, one after another. Sami sat down and said his evening prayer. Then hethought of his grandmother for a while, and what she would say if shecould see him thus in the wagon, and know that he would have to sleep allthe time in his clothes, and if only she could see how it looked in thewagon, so dirty and in disorder. She had been so neat and orderly abouteverything and had kept him so clean from a baby up. But she had neverspoken to him about this, as about other things which he must avoid, andperhaps the people were quite God-fearing; then he ought to stay withthem. That would be as his grandmother wished. Then he placed his bundleunder his head, and went peacefully to sleep. 

CHAPTER SIXTH

SAMI SINGS TOO

Sami had now been working five days for the tinker, and had passed hisnights in the wagon. He was well treated, for the man and his wife werepleased with him. Every day Sami dragged along such a pile of old pans, pots and kettles, that they both wondered where he found them. Hisgrandmother had not charged him in vain to do everything he had to doas well as he possibly could, because the dear Lord always saw what hewas doing. 

He never loitered on the way, and if a woman was going to send him awayquickly and would not listen to him, then he looked at her sobeseechingly that she would find an old pan somewhere and bring it out. From morning till night he ran with the greatest zeal, in order to get asmuch work as possible for his master, and the praise he won every eveninghe enjoyed as much as the savoury soup which followed. 

Nevertheless Sami was not very well contented. Every evening as he sat inthe wagon, he had to think what his grandmother would say to all the dirtaround him, and things pleased him less and less. The woman did not dofor the little children as his grandmother had done for him. All fourcrawled around in the dirt and looked so that Sami didn't care to haveanything to do with them. If they cried they were knocked this way andthat, and at night the woman took up one after another from the ground, put it in the wagon, pulled the dirty grey blanket over them and wentaway again. 

The largest boy could talk quite well. He could have learned a littleprayer long before this, but the woman never taught him any. 

Such a homesickness for his grandmother now arose in Sami's heart everyevening that he had to bury his head deep in his bundle, so that no onewould hear him sob. 

Often on his expeditions he would come near the wall, under theash-trees, but he never went over to it, for he had to work and didnot dare sit idle and listen to the birds. But every time he hadlooked longingly there and sent a whistle from a distance as greetingto the birds. 

From the old house on the hillside, from which one could look down at theash-trees and the wall, he had brought a little kettle to the tinker, andwas delighted at the thought of taking it back again, for then he couldlook down there for a moment and perhaps hear the birds. 

Two days had passed, and Sami hoped that on the following day the littlekettle would be ready. When he returned that evening to the fire with hislast collection, the tinker was sitting thoughtfully there, turning thelittle kettle round and round in his hands. His wife was looking over hisshoulders and both were scrutinizing the old kettle as if it weresomething unusual. 

"It is as like the other as if it were its brother, " said the wife. "Youknow how the man said you must not spoil the pictures scratched on it, and on that account he gave you so much more for it. Here are exactly thesame figures on this, and the nose in front has just the same curve asthe other, which he would not have mended for fear it would be spoiled. "

"I see it all, surely, " said the man, "but I don't know what can be doneabout it. With the other one I could say, it couldn't be mended anymore, for it looked much worse than this, and the people didn't knowthat the old stuff was worth anything, and I wouldn't have believed itwas myself. "

"They won't know either. The boy brought the kettle from the old houseup there. They only know the ground they hoe, but not such a thing asthis. Just say it can't be mended any more, it is not good for anything, and give them something for the copper. They will be satisfied enough. If we go back to Bern we will take it to the man, who will give eightyfrancs for it. "

"That is true. We can do that, " said the man, delighted; "perhaps theywon't want anything for the kettle when they know they can't use it anymore. Come, Sami, " he called to the boy, who stood staring at them on theother side of the fire, and had heard and understood everything--"comehere, I want to tell you something. "

Sami obeyed. 

"Run quickly up to the old house, where you brought the littlekettle from, and say it isn't good for anything, that it can't bemended any more. "

Sami, filled with horror, stared at the man. "Now hurry up and go along, "said his wife, who was still standing there; "you understand well enoughwhat you have to do. "

Sami continued looking at the man without moving, as if he really had notunderstood his words. 

"What is the matter with you? Why don't you hurry along?" snarled theman to him. 

"I can't do that. You are not God-fearing if you do such a thing asthat, " said Sami. 

"What is it to you, what I do? Be quick and go along!" commanded thetinker, and his wife screamed angrily:

"Do you think a little beggar like you is going to tell us what isGod-fearing? We ought to know much better than you! Will you do at oncewhat you are told, or not?"

Sami did not stir. 

"Will you go and do what I told you, or--"

The man raised his hand high up. Sami was pale with fright. Suddenly heturned around, ran to the wagon, took his bundle out, and ran with allhis might up the road, turned to the right between the high walls andrushed on into the open field. Not a moment did he stop running, untilhe had reached the ash-trees. The spot was like a place of refuge to him. Breathless, he sat down on the wall. The twilight was already coming onand it was perfectly still all around. No one had run after him as hefeared. He was quite alone. 

Now he began to think. It was all done so quickly that he had only nowcome to his senses. Yes, it was right that he had run away, for what hehad to do was something wrong, and he had to come away because they werenot God-fearing. It surely would seem right to his grandmother that hehad done this. But where should he go now? The people had all gone homefrom the fields, perhaps were already asleep. Up in the ash-trees notone little bird made a single sound. They were surely all in their nestsand fast asleep. If the dear Lord kept them up there in the trees safefrom all harm, so that they could sleep so well, He would surely protecthim too under the trees. In this spot he always had the feeling that hisgrandmother was nearer to him than anywhere else, and this gave himconfidence. So he laid himself down under the tree quite trustfully andimmediately after he had ended his evening prayer, his eyes closed, forthe brook was murmuring such a beautiful slumber song under theash-trees there. 

Golden sunshine was streaming in Sami's eyes when he awoke. Above him allthe birds were warbling their morning song up into the blue sky. Itsounded like pure thanksgiving and delight. It awakened in Sami's heartthe same tones, and he had to sing praise and thanksgiving, for the dearLord had protected him too so well through the night and let His goldensun shine on him again. With a clear voice Sami joined in the glad chorusand sang a hymn of praise and thanksgiving, the only one he knew:

"Last night Summer breezes blew:--All the flowers awake anew, "

And when he had come to the end, he sang like the merry finch with allhis might:

"Trust! Trust! Trust! Trust!Only trust the dear Lord!"

The song had awakened in Sami new assurance that he would find a piece ofbread and some worthy work. This he wanted to look for now, for hisgrandmother had not impressed it upon him in vain from his earliest days, that in the morning after praying one should immediately go to work. SoSami started off. 

He did not go down to the Lake this day, lest he should come near thetinker. With his bundle under his arm he wandered up the gradually risingfield road. Where this crossed the narrow street, leading over toClarens, Sami met a child's carriage which a girl was pushing in front ofher. She wore a spotless white cap and a white apron. Over the carriage, too, was spread a snow-white cover, and out from under it peeped a littlehead with bright golden hair and a little white hat on it. 

This unusual neatness and the smart appearance of the carriage attractedSami very much and he followed along the same way. On the white carriagerobe was worked a wreath of blue silk, but not of flowers. It was ofstrange figures. The shining blue silk on the white cloth looked sobeautiful that Sami could not keep his eyes away from it. Suddenly itbecame plain to him that the strange figures were letters, but he hadnever seen any like them in his life. Their appearance captivated himmore and more. Then he began to try to see if he couldn't spell them outand perhaps read the words. He tried as hard as he could, but it wasdifficult. Sami kept beginning over again from the first. Finally he madeout all the words. It was a proverb which read thus:

"So let the little angels sing:This child is safe beneath our wing. "

This proverb reminded him so much of his grandmother; he didn't know why, but it seemed to him as if she had prayed exactly like this over his bed. The tears came to his eyes, and yet it seemed so good, just as if he hadfound his home again. The girl now turned suddenly to the left from theroad, and went through the high iron gate which stood open, and led intoa wide courtyard. Great, ancient plane-trees stood inside and cast theirbroad shade over the sunny courtyard. A large flower garden surroundedthe high stone house, which looked forth from behind the trees. 

Sami followed the carriage into the courtyard. It stopped underthe trees. 

"What do you want here? That is the way out, " said the girl impatientlyto Sami, pointing so plainly to the gate that Sami would have understoodthe meaning of her words even if her language had been foreign. But itwas surely German, and he had understood it all very well, although hecould not speak like that himself. His grandmother had told him thatthere were people who spoke just like the reading in the books. 

Sami did not reply, and the girl did not wait for him. She snatched thechild quickly out of the carriage, took the beautiful robe over her arm, and went into the house. 

Meanwhile a little girl had come out of the house and was standing atsome distance gazing at Sami with two big eyes. Now she came quicklyforward, jumped nimbly into the empty carriage, and said:

"Come, give me a ride!"

"Where?" asked Sami. 

"Out there along the road, and far, far away!"

Sami obeyed immediately. For a long while he trotted along withoutstopping. The little girl seemed to enjoy the ride. She looked so eagerlyaround with her bright eyes on every side, as if she couldn't see enough. Then they came to a meadow thick with flowers. 

"Hold still! Hold still!" cried the little one suddenly, and sprang witha big jump out of the low carriage. 

"Now we must have all the flowers, every single one! Come!"

And the little girl was already in the midst of the grass, stampingbravely forward. But Sami said quite prudently:

"You mustn't go so into the grass. It is forbidden. But see, if we goaround outside and take all the flowers you can reach, there will be abig bunch. "

The little one came out, for she knew that she ought not to do what wasforbidden. Then the flowers were gathered according to Sami's advice, butthe little companion soon had enough of such exertion, seated herself onthe ground and said:

"Come, sit down by me. But you must not speak French to me. I have tolearn that with Madame Laurent, but I would rather speak German, and youmust do so too. "

"I don't speak French, I don't know how, " replied Sami; "but I can'tspeak like you either. "

"Where do you come from then, if you don't speak German and don't speakFrench?" the little one wanted to know. 

Sami thought for a moment, then he said:

"First I came from Chailly and then from Zweisimmen. "

"No, no, " interrupted the little one warmly. "People are never fromtwo places, only from one. I am from Berlin, in Germany, you see. ThenPapa bought an estate and now we are living on Lake Geneva. What isyour name?"

Sami told her. 

"And my name is Betti. Why did you come into the courtyard when Tinawanted to send you out?"

Sami had to think for a while, then he said:

"Because those words were on the robe, I knew they were God-fearingpeople where it belonged, and my grandmother told me I must stay withsuch people and never go away, for I should learn nothing but goodfrom them. "

"Must you stay with us now, and never go away again?" asked littleBetti eagerly. 

"Yes, I think so, " answered Sami. "Perhaps I can weed the garden. "

"That is right, " said Betti, delighted. "You see, Tina will not take mein the carriage; she says I am too big. Will you take me every day in thecarriage to the meadow for ever so many hours?"

"Yes, indeed, I will do that gladly, " promised Sami, "and you shall haveall the flowers. Then I will take you besides to the trees where all thebirds sing 'Only trust the dear Lord!' and where the finch cries so loudabove them all: 'Trust! Trust! Trust! Trust!' Have you heard him too?"

At this description little Betti's eyes grew bigger and brighter withexpectation. 

"Come now, let's go right away to the birds, " she exclaimed, jumped upand ran in haste to the carriage. 

Sami followed. 

At this moment Tina, with a very red face, came running up from below. Her looks did not portend anything good. 

"So I have found you at last, " she cried angrily from a distance. "Everybody is running around looking for you--your three brothers, theservants, the coachman--everybody! I have run myself half dead for you. Sit down in the carriage, you naughty little thing. The little tramp cango where he likes. No, he must come back again; his bundle is lying inthe courtyard. So he can pull the carriage if he has to come with us. "

Little Betti did not seem very much frightened by this lively speech. Sheclimbed quickly into the carriage and said gaily: "Go ahead, Sami!"

He obeyed quite crushed, for now he could only return for his bundle;then he would have to go away again, and he had so firmly believed thiswas the place where he was to stay according to his grandmother's advice, and it had pleased him so much. He had started out in the morning full oftrust from the song of the birds, and now he was returning verydown-hearted the same way. 

When the three on their way home came to the courtyard, a tall man wasstanding there, looking out up and down the road; a lady was coming outof the house and going in again very restlessly, and three young boyswere running first one way and then another, screaming at the top oftheir voices:

"She is nowhere to be seen! She is nowhere to be seen!"

But there she was, drawn by Sami, just coming into the courtyard. Beforeany question, reproach or accusation could be heard in regard to theunlawful expedition, Betti had run straight to her Papa, and in hisdelight that she was safely there again, he had taken her in his arms, and with the greatest eagerness she said:

"He will take me every day in the carriage, Papa, the whole day long, ifI like, and bring all the flowers to me, because I must not go in thehigh grass. And he must always stay with us, because his grandmother knewabout it, and, Papa, think, he knows birds that sing a whole song, andthe finch sings above them all: 'Trust! Trust!' We were going right tosee them when Tina came and we had to come home. But now we can go, can'twe, Papa, right away? Sami will take me there again; he isn't tired yet. Only say yes, Papa. "

"Your story is wonderful, " said her Papa, laughing. "Where is the littlecoachman whom you have engaged and who, according to his grandmother'sadvice, must stay with us?"

Meanwhile the three brothers had come running along and, together withtheir mother, stood near their father under the gateway, so that Sami, who with his bundle on his arm was trying to go out, could not passthrough, and had betaken himself very quietly to a corner of thecourtyard. The master of the house now placed his daughter on the groundand looked towards the boy. But he was already surrounded, for duringtheir little sister's story the three brothers had made their examinationand calculation and then had turned to the boy. Nine-year-old Edward haddecided with satisfaction that Sami was the one he had for a long timeneeded, for since the donkey, which had been given to him at Christmas, had overturned him and his little cart three times running, his fatherhad forbidden him to drive out again without the coachman, Johann. Butwhen Edward wanted to go out driving Johann was always occupied someother way, and when Johann announced that he could go it didn't suitEdward at all. Now Sami was found, an attendant whom he could callwhenever he wanted him. 

Eleven-year-old Karl was an enthusiastic archer, but to have to be alwaysrunning after his arrows after they were shot and to hunt for them wasvery irksome to him. Suddenly someone was found whom he could make use ofto hunt for his arrows. 

Fourteen-year-old Arthur had permission to sail in his boat on the lake, but he needed some one to steer for him. Now here was a satisfactory boy, on the spot, whom he could teach, and have to steer for him. So ithappened that there was a great uproar when their Papa drew near thegroup in the corner of the courtyard. 

"Keep him, Papa, I have enough work for him to do!" cried Arthur, whileKarl's voice was heard above his screaming:

"Let him stay here, Papa, please, I need him so much!"

But Edward's piercing voice was heard above the other two:

"Papa, he can drive the donkey, he must stay with us, then Johann won'tneed to come with me any longer!"

And in the midst of all sounded Betti's high little voice, untiringly:

"Can we go to see the birds now, Papa? Can we go now to the birds?"

Then Papa turned away from the noisy group and said, laughing:

"My dear wife, what do you say to this whole story?"

The lady addressed had until now listened silently and watched Sami, whose eyes grew brighter and brighter the louder the children begged forhim to stay. She looked at him kindly and said first of all she wouldlike to know from him where he came from, and what the story which Bettitold about his grandmother meant; he ought to tell where he had beenliving hitherto, who his parents were and who his grandmother was. 

The kind lady had inspired Sami with great confidence and he now toldfrom the beginning all that he knew about his life up to the presentmoment, and also how he had come into the courtyard, on account of theproverb, which led him to believe that here lived the people with whom heshould stay. 

When Sami came to an end, the lady turned to her husband and said:

"It is the dear Lord who has led him here. We cannot send him away!"

The children all shouted together for joy. 

"Can we go to the birds now, Papa? Right away?" repeated Betti withirrepressible eagerness. 

"By and by, by and by, " said her father, soothingly. "Sami is going withme first up to Chailly, to show me where Herr Malon lives. I want to talkwith him. When we come back, we will see what to do first. "

The mother understood that her husband wanted to have Herr Malon'sassurance that everything Sami had told was true, and held back thechildren, who all four were anxious to explain immediately to Sami whatthey desired of him. 

"But bring him back again, Papa!" cried Betti following after them asthey started away. 

Herr Malon was very much surprised to see Sami again, and moreover insuch company, for he recognized the master of the plane-tree estate atonce. After the first greeting Sami was sent out doors for a little, andthis delighted him very much, for now he could look at the garden againand the crooked maple-tree, under which he had so often sat with hisgrandmother. 

Herr Malon assured his guest that all Sami's words were correct andbesides gave a description of Old Mary Ann, her fidelity andconscientiousness, so that the gentleman was very glad to have such goodnews to carry to his wife. 

A loud shout of delight welcomed them on their return, and still louderwas the applause, when their father announced that Sami was henceforth toremain in the house and be the children's playmate. 

Sami did not know what to make of it. Since his grandmother's death, noone had shown the slightest pleasure in his presence; on the contraryeverywhere he had felt as if he were tolerated only out of pity, and nowhe was received with loud rejoicing by the children of a house to whichhe had been more attracted than anywhere else before, and where hisgrandmother would be glad to see him; of that he was sure. His heart wasso overflowing with joy that he wanted to sing aloud and give praise andthanksgiving evermore like the finch:

"Trust! Trust! Only trust the dear Lord!"

 * * * * *

It is now ten years since Sami entered the plane-tree estate. Whoeverpasses by there on a beautiful Spring day will surely stand still at thehigh iron gateway and listen for a little, for there is seldom heard sucha merry song as sounds from the thick branches of the planetrees. Up inthe tree sits the young gardener pruning the branches. At the same timehe sings continually, like the merriest finch, and carols loudest the endof his song, accompanied by all the birds:

"Only trust the dear Lord!"

The young gardener is Sami. At first he received a good knowledge ofreading, writing and arithmetic with the children of the house; later, according to his great wish, he was trained as a gardener of the estate. But he is now not only gardener, he has much more to oversee about theestate than any one would imagine. Arthur, who has just finished hisstudies, is still an ardent sailor. Without Sami, no trip is possible, and Arthur is apt to say:

"Without God's help and Sami's assistance I should have been drownedtwenty times. "

When Karl comes from the university in his vacation, his first questionis, "Where is Sami?" and this he asks numberless times every day, forwithout him he can never get ready. He alone knows where to findeverything Karl needs in vacation-time for his amusements, from his oldbow and quiver up to his riding whip and gun. 

Edward has now given up his donkey cart and instead is interested instrange animals, which have their dwelling-place in the back of thecourtyard and often make a great spectacle there. He owns two marmots, two parrots and a monkey. No one could manage these and keep them inorder but Sami, and he does it so well and so successfully that Edwardoften exclaims:

"Without Sami everything we have would go to ruin, animals and people, the animals for want of proper care and the people from anger over it. "

But Betti still remains Sami's greatest friend. She can call him at anyhour of the day she pleases, Sami is immediately on the spot, and Bettiknows he is more devoted than any one else and besides can keep secretslike a stone. No one knows how many little notes he has to carry everyweek to the neighbouring estates. Sami will not tell, for her brotherswould laugh at their sister Betti's endless correspondence which she haswith numerous girl friends around on all the estates. Sami is her mostdevoted friend, for he would run through fire and water for her withouthesitation. He never forgets what persuasive words in his behalf Bettiused with her father, when, broken-hearted, he was going to fetch hisbundle and go away again. 

The youngest, Ella, with golden curls, who has taken over the donkey andcart from her brother Edward, is entrusted to Sami's especial care whenshe desires to go for a drive. Whenever she brings out her white robe tospread over her knees, Sami's eyes sparkle with delight and thankfulnessas he remembers how the proverb led him to his good fortune, and stillmore at the memory of his grandmother, who brought about all this good, and whom he never forgets. 

When, recently, a lady, owning one of the neighbouring estates, proposedto Herr von K. To transfer his merry gardener to her, merely because theservants in her house had sullen faces, he replied:

"You can have him, just as much as you can have one of my own children, if you should try to entice one away. Sami is the most faithful, trustworthy, conscientious person who has ever come in my way. I canleave my whole house and go wherever I will, I know that everything willbe taken care of, as if I stood by. This is so because Sami has anotherMaster besides me, before whose eyes he performs all his work. The dearLord himself sent my glad-hearted Sami to me, and I esteem him. Hebelongs to my house, and it shall remain his home!"