Heidi, Johanna Spyri [reading e books .TXT] 📗

well my little Heidi looks—like a wild rose!” she continued,

drawing the child towards her and stroking her fresh pink

cheeks. “I don’t know which way to look first, it is all so

lovely! What do you say to it, Clara, what do you say?”

 

Clara was gazing round entranced; she had never imagined, much

less seen, anything so beautiful. She gave vent to her delight

in cries of joy. “O grandmamma,” she said, “I should like to

remain here for ever.”

 

The grandfather had meanwhile drawn up the invalid chair and

spread some of the wraps over it; he now went up to Clara.

 

“Supposing we carry the little daughter now to her accustomed

chair; I think she will be more comfortable, the travelling

sedan is rather hard,” he said, and without waiting for any one

to help him he lifted the child in his strong arms and laid her

gently down on her own couch. He then covered her over carefully

and arranged her feet on the soft cushion, as if he had never

done anything all his life but attend on cripples. The grandmamma

looked on with surprise.

 

“My dear Uncle,” she exclaimed, “if I knew where you had learned

to nurse I would at once send all the nurses I know to the same

place that they might handle their patients in like manner. How

do you come to know so much?”

 

Uncle smiled. “I know more from experience than training,” he

answered, but as he spoke the smile died away and a look of

sadness passed over his face. The vision rose before him of a

face of suffering that he had known long years before, the face

of a man lying crippled on his couch of pain, and unable to move

a limb. The man had been his Captain during the fierce fighting

in Sicily; he had found him lying wounded and had carried him

away, and after that the captain would suffer no one else near

him, and Uncle had stayed and nursed him till his sufferings

ended in death. It all came back to Uncle now, and it seemed

natural to him to attend on the sick Clara and to show her all

those kindly attentions with which he had been once so familiar.

 

The sky spread blue and cloudless over the hut and the fir trees

and far above over the high rocks, the grey summits of which

glistened in the sun. Clara could not feast her eyes enough on

all the beauty around her.

 

“O Heidi, if only I could walk about with you,” she said

longingly, “if I could but go and look at the fir trees and at

everything I know so well from your description, although I have

never been here before.”

 

Heidi in response put out all her strength, and after a slight

effort, managed to wheel Clara’s chair quite easily round the

hut to the fir trees. There they paused. Clara had never seen

such trees before, with their tall, straight stems, and long

thick branches growing thicker and thicker till they touched the

ground. Even the grandmamma, who had followed the children, was

astonished at the sight of them. She hardly knew what to admire

most in these ancient trees: the lofty tops rising in their full

green splendor towards the sky, or the pillar-like stems, with

their straight and gigantic boughs, that spoke of such antiquity

of age, of such long years during which they had looked down

upon the valley below, where men came and went, and all things

were continually changing, while they stood undisturbed and

changeless.

 

Heidi had now wheeled Clara on to the goat shed, and had flung

open the door, so that Clara might have a full view of all that

was inside. There was not much to see just now as its indwellers

were absent. Clara lamented to her grandmother that they would

have to leave early before the goats came home. “I should so

like to have seen Peter and his whole flock.”

 

“Dear child, let us enjoy all the beautiful things that we can

see, and not think about those that we cannot,” grandmamma

replied as she followed the chair which Heidi was pushing

further on.

 

“Oh, the flowers!” exclaimed Clara. “Look at the bushes of red

flowers, and all the nodding blue bells! Oh, if I could but get

but and pick some!”

 

Heidi ran off at once and picked her a large nosegay of them.

 

“But these are nothing, Clara,” she said, laying the flowers on

her lap. “If you could come up higher to where the goats are

feeding, then you would indeed see something! Bushes on bushes

of the red centaury, and ever so many more of the blue bell-flowers; and then the bright yellow rock roses, that gleam like

pure gold, and all crowding together in the one spot. And then

there are others with the large leaves that grandfather calls

Bright Eyes, and the brown ones with little round heads that

smell so delicious. Oh, it is beautiful up there, and if you sit

down among them you never want to get up again, everything looks

and smells so lovely!”

 

Heidi’s eyes sparkled with the remembrance of what she was

describing; she was longing herself to see it all again, and

Clara caught her enthusiasm and looked back at her with equal

longing in her soft blue eyes.

 

“Grandmamma, do you think I could get up there? Is it possible

for me to go?” she asked eagerly. “If only I could walk, climb

about everywhere with you, Heidi!”

 

“I am sure I could push you up, the chair goes so easily,” said

Heidi, and in proof of her words, she sent the chair at such a

pace round the corner that it nearly went flying down the

mountain-side. Grandmamma being at hand, however, stopped it in

time.

 

The grandfather, meantime, had not been idle. He had by this

time put the table and extra chairs in front of the seat, so that

they might all sit out here and eat the dinner that was preparing

inside. The milk and the cheese were soon ready, and then the

company sat down in high spirits to their mid-day meal.

 

Grandmamma was enchanted, as the doctor had been, with their

dining-room, whence one could see far along the valley, and far

over the mountains to the farthest stretch of blue sky. A light

wind blew refreshingly over them as they sat at table, and the

rustling of the fir trees made a festive accompaniment to the

repast.

 

“I never enjoyed anything as much as this. It is really superb!”

cried grandmamma two or three times over; and then suddenly in a

tone of surprise,

 

“Do I really see you taking a second piece of toasted cheese,

Clara!”

 

There, sure enough, was a second golden-colored slice of cheese

on Clara’s plate.

 

“Oh, it does taste so nice, grandmamma—better than all the

dishes we have at Ragatz,” replied Clara, as she continued

eating with appetite.

 

“That’s right, eat what you can!” exclaimed Uncle. “It’s the

mountain air which makes up for the deficiencies of the

kitchen.”

 

And so the meal went on. Grandmamma and Alm-Uncle got on very

well together, and their conversation became more and more

lively. They were so thoroughly agreed in their opinions of men

and things and the world in general that they might have been

taken for old cronies. The time passed merrily, and then

grandmamma looked towards the west and said,—

 

“We must soon get ready to go, Clara, the sun is a good way

down; the men will be here directly with the horse and sedan.”

 

Clara’s face fell and she said beseechingly, “Oh, just another

hour, grandmamma, or two hours. We haven’t seen inside the hut

yet, or Heidi’s bed, or any of the other things. If only the day

was ten hours long!”

 

“Well, that is not possible,” said grandmamma, but she herself

was anxious to see inside the hut, so they all rose from the

table and Uncle wheeled Clara’s chair to the door. But there

they came to a standstill, for the chair was much too broad to

pass through the door. Uncle, however, soon settled the

difficulty by lifting Clara in his strong arms and carrying her

inside.

 

Grandmamma went all round and examined the household

arrangements, and was very much amused and pleased at their

orderliness and the cozy appearance of everything. “And this is

your bedroom up here, Heidi, is it not?” she asked, as without

trepidation she mounted the ladder to the hay loft. “Oh, it does

smell sweet, what a healthy place to sleep in.” She went up to

the round window and looked out, and grandfather followed up

with Clara in his arms, Heidi springing up after them. Then they

all stood and examined Heidi’s wonderful hay-bed, and grandmamma

looked thoughtfully at it and drew in from time to time fragrant

draughts of the hay-perfumed air, while Clara was charmed beyond

words with Heidi’s sleeping apartment.

 

“It is delightful for you up here, Heidi! You can look from your

bed straight into the sky, and then such a delicious smell all

round you! and outside the fir trees waving and rustling! I have

never seen such a pleasant, cheerful bedroom before.

 

Uncle looked across at the grandmamma. “I have been thinking,”

he said to her, “that if you were willing to agree to it, your

little granddaughter might remain up here, and I am sure she

would grow stronger. You have brought up all kinds of shawls and

covers with you, and we could make up a soft bed out of them,

and as to the general looking after the child, you need have no

fear, for I will see to that.” Clara and Heidi were as overjoyed

at these words as if they were two birds let out of their cages,

and grandmamma’s face beamed with satisfaction.

 

“You are indeed kind, my dear Uncle,” she exclaimed; “you give

words to the thought that was in my own mind. I was only asking

myself whether a stay up here might not be the very thing she

wanted. But then the trouble, the inconvenience to yourself! And

you speak of nursing and looking after her as if it was a mere

nothing! I thank you sincerely, I thank you from my whole heart,

Uncle.” And she took his hand and gave it a long and grateful

shake, which he returned with a pleased expression of

countenance.

 

Uncle immediately set to work to get things ready. He carried

Clara back to her chair outside, Heidi following, not knowing

how to jump high enough into the air to express her contentment.

Then he gathered up a whole pile of shawls and furs and said,

smiling, “It is a good thing that grandmamma came up well

provided for a winter’s campaign; we shall be able to make good

use of these.”

 

“Foresight is a virtue,” responded the lady, amused, “and

prevents many misfortunes. If we have made the journey over your

mountains without meeting with storms, winds and cloud-bursts,

we can only be thankful, which we are, and my provision against

these disasters now comes in usefully, as you say.”

 

The two had meanwhile ascended to the hayloft and begun to

prepare a bed; there were so many articles piled one over the

other that when finished it looked like a regular little

fortress. Grandmamma passed her hand carefully over it to make

sure there were no bits of hay sticking out. “If there’s a bit

that can come through it will,” she said. The soft mattress,

however, was so smooth and thick that nothing could penetrate