Seed-time and Harvest Part 83

"Oh, your stupid papers!" cried a great rough woman, from behind the stove, "when you come home, in the evenings, from the city, with your heads full of brandy, you are ready to do great things, and afterwards you flop together, like a dish-cloth. What? Must I send my children about the country, begging? I have had no bread, for three days, but such as the children have brought home."

"Things are a little better than they were, though," said old father Brinkman.

"Yes," cried Willgans, "but from fear, not from kindness. We will go up to the court, each with a good staff, and there we will teach him to know the Lord, and then we will lead him over the boundary, and give him a start on the way: 'There! now travel!'"

"What?" cried Kapphingst, "and that Satan of a woman, who almost killed my girl about an old chicken, will you let her stay?"

"And the old girls," cried a young woman, "who tormented us so, when we were servants at the court, and seemed like merciful angels in the parlor, when there was company, and knocked us round in the kitchen, like regular devils,--shall they stay too?"

"We must get rid of the whole concern," said Willgans.

"No, children, no!" said old Brinkman. "Do not meddle with the innocent children!"

"Yes," said Ruhrdanz's old wife, who sat by herself, peeling potatoes for dinner, "you are right, Brinkman, and Gustaving must stay too; I saw him bringing old Schultz a measure of potatoes, secretly; and when he measures the land for potatoes and flax, he always gives a couple of rods more than _he_ does; and, Willgans, see! your oldest boy wears a pair of his outgrown breeches, at this moment. He cannot do as he would, the old man looks after him too closely. No, against Gustaving and the little ones, n.o.body must lift a hand."

"Mother, I say so, too," said Ruhrdanz. "And, let me tell you something, we must do everything regularly! The others are not here now; this evening we will talk about it again. He will not be at home; Johann Jochen had to get the gla.s.s coach ready, they are going to the ball, in the city, this evening; then we can talk it over."

"Yes," cried the great rough woman, "yes, talk and talk! You drink your heads full of brandy, and we are starving. If _you_ don't get rid of these people, _we_ shall do it, for we can do as other women have done, all over the country; thorn-bushes and nettle-stalks are not far to seek." With that, she went out of the door, and the company dispersed.

"Bernhard," said Ruhrdanz's wife to him, "the matter may turn out badly."

"So I say, mother, and you are quite right; but if the business is only conducted with regularity, the grand-duke can have nothing against it.

The only trouble is that we have no proper papers to show; but if he should have to show _his_ papers, fine papers they would be."

Ruhrdanz was right; as for the grand-duke, I don't know about that; but he was right about the gla.s.s coach, and Pomuchelskopp's journey to the ball; for towards evening the Herr Proprietor sat in the coach, in his blue dress-coat, and his brave, old Hauning sat by him, looking, in her yellow-brown silk, like one of her own cookies, with all sorts of scalloped flourishes, though the soapy flavor was lacking; she was as dry and tough as a leather strap, and her bones clattered over the rough roads, like a bunch of hazelnuts, hung in the chimney-corner.

Opposite sat the two fair daughters, sumptuously arrayed; but greatly vexed, because their father positively insisted upon taking them to _this_ ball, a _burgher_ ball. To punish him for it, they made no effort to amuse him, and talked of the burghers as _canaille_, and also wrought vengeance upon his s.h.i.+ns, by the way, by means of the new hoops in their crinoline, which the wheelwright had put in freshly, that morning, of stout hazel stock. Gustaving sat by the coachman, Johann Jochen, on the box.

I cannot think of dancing, this evening, with my pretty readers, at the fraternity ball, I am too old, and besides, it is only three days since Rudolph's wedding, where I did my utmost. I will merely go as a spectator, and enjoy the pleasant summer evening, on the bench before Grammelin's door; I can look into the hall for a few moments, later in the evening, and drink a gla.s.s of punch, and fraternize a little, like the rest.

There were great doings at Grammelin's. All the grandees of Rahnstadt were there, the burghers, head and tail and neck and crop, a few proprietors, Pomuchelskopp at the head, a few n.o.blemen and their sons,--their wives were not there, they were all troubled with corns that afternoon, and the daughters were absent from home,--the pachters in the neighborhood, and the young country people came in crowds. Very few of our friends were to be seen, for it was church-going with Jochen Nussler's family, and the Frau Pastorin and Habermann and Louise had gone out there, and Rector Baldrian and Kurz, with their wives and Brasig, had also gone, but had returned in time to go to the ball. Kurz did not go, however, for he had been so provoked over Jochen's stout relations, that his wife put him to bed, which was a good thing, not only for himself, but for Herr Sussmann and the ball, for the young Herr could manage his affairs as dance-director without disturbance. He had got himself a new pair of trousers, and had put so much lard on his hair, that there was plenty to spare to grease his joints with. The little a.s.sessor went with her parents, and Fritz Triddelsitz, who was aware that she was coming, appeared as a proprietor of the highest rank, connected with the n.o.bility. The little pupil, whose groschens were all gone, and who had discovered that Brasig's niece would not be there, sat just across the street from Grammelin's, before a forlorn old piano, which he belabored, while he sung:

"Mich fliehen alle Freuden, ich sterb vor Ungeduld,"

and so forth, only he misp.r.o.nounced, in his distress, and said:

"Mich freuen alle Fliegen!"

Rector Baldrian came, with his wife, and Brasig with Schultz the carpenter, and Slusuhr and David. David had on two gold rings more than usual, which had been given him in p.a.w.n, and chewed cinnamon bark, to counteract the odor of the produce business.

And when they were all there, and they were ready to begin, David Berger played the "Mamsell jas"--as the dyer Meinswegens called the thing,--and Herr Sussmann sang out, quite loud:

"Allons enfant de la partie!"

At first, all seemed very good-natured, but, as a whole, there wasn't much fraternity. On one side it was all right, the young gentlemen among the grandees, and those from the country, were very brotherly towards the pretty little burghers' daughters; but the young ladies from the country, and the grandees' daughters, were positively determined not to fraternize with the burghers' sons, and the first open quarrel began with Malchen Pomuchelskopp. The shoemaker, the wit of the Reformverein, who was a burgher's son in Rahnstadt, asked her to dance, and she thanked him, but she was engaged; and then she sat there, and waited for Fritz Triddelsitz or Herr Sussmann, or some other helping angel, whom providence might send to dance the next hop waltz with her. But there were no angels of the kind ready, and she remained sitting. The rogue of a shoemaker cracked his jokes over it, and at last said, quite aloud, that if the distinguished ladies would not dance with them, they ought not to let the distinguished gentlemen dance with their women-folks, for they had not come there to look at each other. And then the storm broke upon the poor, pretty, innocent, little burghers' daughters, and their brothers and lovers attacked them: "Fika, don't you dance any more with that long-legged apothecary's son!" and "Durt, wait, I shall tell mother!" and "Stine, another dance with the advocate, and we are parted!" So it went through the hall, and at last it came to Father Pomuchelskopp's ears, how the trouble originated, and it disturbed him so much that he went to Malchen, and represented to her in the most pathetic terms the mischief she had done. The shoemaker, he said, was a very worthy young man, he was counted equal to any ten in the Reformverein, on account of his terrible wit, and it must be made up, and in spite of all her opposition Father Pomuchelskopp took his educated daughter upon his arm, and led her through the hall to the shoemaker, and said it was a great mistake, his daughter would consider it a special honor to dance with such a distinguished member of the Reformverein. And, behold! the shoemaker and Malchen were dancing together!

Father Pomuchel had now, so to speak, sacrificed his first born upon the altar of fraternity, but it did not avail much, the discordant elements would not harmonize. Uncle Brasig was doing his utmost, on the other side, he puffed about in his brown dress-coat, introduced Herr von So and So to the wife of Thiel the joiner, and compelled himself to walk arm-in-arm, about the hall, with his worst enemy in the Reformverein, the tailor Wimmersdorf, and at last, before everybody, gave the wife of Johann Meinswegens, the dyer, a couple of fraternity kisses on her red face; but it was a hopeless task, what could one man accomplish, though with the best will in the world? "Herr Schultz," he said, at last, quite worn out with his labors, "when it comes to the eating and drinking, I hope we may be a little more brotherly; the dancing only seems to bring us farther apart."

But even the eating and drinking did not help the matter; the people of rank sat at one end of the table, the burghers at the other; at one end they drank champagne, at the other a frightful tipple, which Grammelin sold, with the greatest impudence, as fine red wine, at twelve s.h.i.+llings the bottle. The shoemaker, indeed, was invited by Pomuchelskopp to be his guest at table, he sat by Malchen, and Father Pomuchel filled his gla.s.s a.s.siduously; the dyer, Meinswegens, had sat down with his wife between two proprietors, and ordered "Panschamber,"

for he had filled his pocket with four-groschen pieces; but when he went to pay he became aware that he had made a mistake, in the twilight, for he brought out a handful of dyer's tickets. Brasig had seated himself between a couple of the dearest little burghers'

daughters, whom he treated in such a fatherly way that the Frau Pastorin, if she had seen it, would not have given him a good word for a week, and Gottlieb would certainly have preached him a sermon; but what good did it all do? Grammelin's sour wine did not suit well with his champagne, and so at supper they were farther asunder than ever.

"Herr Schultz," said Brasig to his old friend, who sat opposite, "now it is time to play our last trump, you speak to Herr Sussmann, I will tell David Berger."

Herr Schultz went round to Herr Sussmann. "Have you your song-books ready?"

"Oh, yes."

"Go ahead, then! Now is the time!"

Herr Sussmann distributed the songbooks, while Brasig went up to David Berger, and inquired:

"Herr Berger, do you know that air of Schiller's:

"'Schwester mit das Leinwand mieder, Bruder in das Ordensband?'"

"Yes, indeed," said David.

"Well, go ahead, then! Begin!" And suddenly resounded through the hall:

"Freude, schoner Gutter funken,"

but fewer and fewer voices joined the chorus, weaker and weaker grew the song, till, at last, old Uncle Brasig stood there, with the book before his nose, and the tears running down his cheeks, and sung:

"Seid umschlungen Millionen, Untergang der Lugenbrut!"

That was too strong, they couldn't stand that. "Lying brood!" No, that was too much; they all lied, to be sure, but only when it was necessary. The company rose from table, very much out of humor. Brasig sat down in a corner and began to grumble, he was vexed to his inmost heart; the young people began to dance again, and David and Slusuhr sat in an adjoining room, drinking champagne, and cracking their jokes over Uncle Brasig.

"Herr Inspector," said the carpenter Schultz to Brasig, after a while, "there are some people sitting in No. 3, and the notary and David are poking fun at you, because you bring your politics into everything, and the notary said, if the French should get no king after Louis Philippe, then you might become King of France; you had nothing to do, and might like the situation."

"Did he say that?" asked Uncle Brasig, rising from the corner, with great energy.

"Yes, he said that, and the others laughed at it."

"And he is sitting in Grammelin's No. 3?"

"Yes, he is sitting there."