Heimatlos Part 17

The uncle's house was about fifteen minutes' walk from the church, and Wiseli ran on obediently, although the tears would not be kept back.

Her aunt answered the knock at the door; seeing the child in tears she said gruffly, "What is the matter with you?"

"I have been sent over to get my uncle; my mother is dead," answered Wiseli, for she had reasoned it out to herself that it must be so or else the mother would speak to her.

The aunt softened perceptibly. "He is not here just now," she said almost kindly. "I will have him come as soon as possible, so you needn't wait."

It was not long after Wiseli's return that the uncle came. He directed the neighbor to look after everything so that he might take the child away at once.

"But where shall we go?" inquired Wiseli.

"You shall go home with me, for I am all that you have left now. I will take care of you."

In spite of this a.s.surance a great dread seized Wiseli. To go home with her uncle meant to live with the aunt of whom she was so afraid that she had always dreaded even meeting her. Then there were the three rude cousins, of whom Chappi was the oldest. The thought of how Hans and Rudi were always throwing stones at children made her shudder. How could she go there to live, and yet how dared she refuse?

All these thoughts flashed through Wiseli's mind as she stood hesitating. "You needn't be afraid," said her uncle kindly; "there are a good many of us, to be sure, but you will find that all the more interesting."

Wiseli tied a few of her things in a bundle, put a shawl over her head, and joined her uncle who was waiting near the door.

"That is a good girl," said the uncle; "now let us be off. Don't cry any more; that never helps anything."

Wiseli choked back the sobs as best she could and followed the uncle, whose stern nature had never been so touched before. Thus the little home where Wiseli had lived, loving and beloved, pa.s.sed out of her life forever.

They had a glimpse of Trina, who was crossing a vacant lot with a basket on her arm, and Wiseli knew that she was going to see her mother.

Trina said to the neighbor who met her at the door; "I have something good for the sick one's dinner; I hope I am not too late. We have a visitor, and everything is late when he is there."

"It doesn't matter now, for you would have been too late even if you had come early this morning; she died in the night," said the neighbor.

"Oh, what will Mrs. Ritter say!" exclaimed Trina in alarm. "She tried so hard to have me come yesterday, but we were all so taken up with the uncle's arrival that it was put off. I am so sorry to have to tell her of this because I know how she will blame herself for neglecting her friend so long."

"Yes," said the neighbor, "we are all apt to do that. Yesterday I did not suspect that she was any worse than usual."

Trina sorrowfully returned to the Ritter home.

CHAPTER IV

THE GOTTI HOME

When Wiseli and her uncle arrived at Beechgreen, the three boys rushed in from the barn and stood staring at her. Soon the mother came in from the kitchen and did the same thing. Wiseli did not know what to do except to stand and hold her bundle.

Presently the father seated himself at the table and said, "I think we had better have something to eat. I am afraid the little one has not had much to-day. Put your things down, Wiseli, and sit here with me."

Wiseli obeyed without a word. The aunt brought a large loaf of black bread and some cheese, after which she went on staring at Wiseli as if she had never seen a child before.

The uncle cut a slice of the bread, put a piece of cheese on it, and pushed it over in front of Wiseli. "There, little one," he said kindly, "eat that. You must be hungry."

The suppressed tears welled up in Wiseli's eyes, and her throat was so choked that she could scarcely breathe. She knew that she could not swallow a single crumb. "No, thank you," she managed to say; "I am not hungry."

"But you had better try," urged the uncle. "You mustn't be afraid."

Still Wiseli left the bread untouched, and the boys and their mother continued to stare at her. Presently the aunt dropped her hands from her hips and said, "If it isn't good enough for you, then let it alone." Wiseli was glad that she went out after this rebuke.

"You had better put your slice of bread in your pocket, Wiseli, for you may want it a little later," said the uncle, and then he too went out to the kitchen, closing the door after him.

Wiseli knew that her uncle meant to be good to her, and she wanted to obey him, so she tried to put the bread in her pocket. Unfortunately this was much too small, so she laid the bread back on the table.

At this point Chappi s.n.a.t.c.hed the slice saying, "I will help you." He was just in the act of taking a bite when one of the brothers struck his arm so that the bread dropped to the floor. Then the other brother tried to get it, and a general scuffle ensued.

The father opened the kitchen door to ask what the trouble was. The boys answered together, "Wiseli didn't want it."

"Unless you want me to come in with a strap you had better stop that racket," threatened the father.

He had just closed the door again when one of the younger boys seized the other by the hair, with the idea of holding him at bay while he got the bread, but this only made matters worse, and the bread disappeared bite by bite as each found an opportunity to s.n.a.t.c.h it.

The aunt was was.h.i.+ng potatoes in the kitchen. When her husband came in she said, "What do you mean by bringing the girl home with you? I should like to ask what you intend to do with her."

"The child had to go somewhere," he answered. "I am her uncle and the only relative she has. She ought to be of some help to you. I am sure she could do the kind of work you are doing now, and you could take your time for something you like better. You have always said that the boys make work, and you can surely find something for her to do."

"Oh, bos.h.!.+ So far as that is concerned, she will be no better than the boys. You can hear what is going on in there now, and she has scarcely been here fifteen minutes."

"Yes," said the uncle; "but I have heard the same thing many times before she came, and I imagine she has little enough to do with it."

"Didn't you hear them all lay it upon her when you opened the door?"

she asked angrily.

"They have to blame some one," the husband calmly answered; "they always do, I notice. I am of the opinion that you will have little trouble from the girl; she acts and obeys better than the boys."

"You needn't set her up as a model for the boys already," retorted his wife. "There isn't a place for her to sleep, anyway."

"Well," said the husband, "one can't plan everything at once. She has, no doubt, had a bed to sleep on, and it can easily be brought over here. I will talk with the pastor about her to-morrow. She can sleep on the bench behind the stove to-night; it will at least be warm.

Later we can part.i.tion off a part of our chamber large enough for her little bed."

"I never in my life heard of any one bringing a child and a week later her bed!" sneered the aunt. "I should like to know who is going to pay the bills if we have to go to building on her account."

"If the church agrees to let us have her, they will also pay something for her keeping," explained the husband. "I will take her for less money than any one else would ask, because I am her uncle, and she will be happier with us than with strangers. I wish you would tell Chappi that I want him at the barn."

The aunt called to Chappi, but the boys were still struggling on the floor and he did not hear. She went into the room and gruffly ordered quiet. Wiseli stood crouching against the wall, scarcely daring to move.

"I wonder that you stand by and watch such a scene without trying to stop it," scolded the aunt. "Can you knit?"

Wiseli trembled as she answered, "Yes, I can knit stockings."

The aunt handed Wiseli a large brown stocking, at the same time sending Chappi to the barn. The two brothers followed him out.

"Remember that it is the foot you are knitting on, and don't make it too short," cautioned the aunt, and then she returned to the kitchen.