Part Six

The Black Pond

"Hurrah, the Black Pond is frozen. The ice is more than an inch thick, and there's a crowd of boys down there!" shouted one of Viggo's classmates one Sunday morning, as he thrust his frost covered head through the door and swung his skates. I dare say it didn't take Viggo long before he got his skates down from the nail, and as soon as he had got permission from his father, he ran off with his friend. And what do you think, he was so anxious to get down to the lake, that he forgot to whistle for Allarm.

But Allarm had a fine nose. Just as soon as he had swallowed his breakfast he understood that Viggo was gone. Then he ran out switching his tail and hunting through the yard for Viggo's trail, and when he noticed that it didn't lead to the school he knew he might follow. Then he rushed madly after him over the fields, and had caught up with him long before Viggo had reached the cottage of Hans the Grenadier, which lay close by the lake.

One thing Viggo had promised his father before he got permission to go, and that was that he should be very careful and not skate far out from the shore. His father knew that the ice was safe along the shore, but that near the middle of the lake there was an air hole through which warm air rose to the surface, and there the ice was never thick.

And Viggo meant honestly to do what his father had told him, but now you shall hear what happened.

When he came to the lake there was a crowd of boys there, big ones and little ones, from all the farms and cottages round about. There must have been twenty or more. Most of them had skates on but some only slid on the ice. And Viggo could see that they had been in just as great hurry as he to get down on the ice, for some had run off without caps and some without mittens, but they did not notice the cold. They shouted and laughed so that you could not hear yourself think.

As soon as Viggo had put on his skates he began to look around in the crowd. Most of the boys he knew, for he had raced with them before and knew he could beat every one of them. But there was one boy who skated about by himself and seemed not to care about the others. He was much bigger than Viggo, almost half grown, and Viggo saw immediately that it would not be easy to beat him in a race. The boys called him Peter Lightfoot and the name fitted him. Peter crossed his arms and swung around on one leg. He could do the corkscrew, skate backwards as easily as forwards, and lie so low and near the ice that he might have kissed it. And this he did as easily and neatly as one turns around on the parlor floor. But all this Viggo could do too.

"Can you write your initials?" asked Viggo. Yes, Peter Lightfoot stood on one leg and wrote _=PL=_ in the ice, but the letters hung together. Then Viggo started. He ran, turned himself around backwards and wrote _=P L=_ and between the P and the L he made a short jump so that the letters stood apart.

"Hurrah for Viggo! He wrote Peter Lightfoot backwards," shouted the boys and threw up their caps. Then the big boy blushed crimson, but he said nothing and tried to laugh.

Now they began to play "Fox and Geese," and everybody wanted Viggo to be the fox. Peter wanted to play too, for he was sure that Viggo could not catch him; he was indeed much bigger and stronger. The race course was scratched in the ice and Viggo called, "Out, out, my geese," and off they ran. But Viggo didn't care to run after the little goslings, it was the big gander, Peter Lightfoot, he wished to catch. And that was a game! Off they went, Peter in front and Viggo after him, so that the wind whistled around them, back and forth in corners and circles, and all the other boys stopped and looked on. Every time Viggo was right at his heels, Peter jumped and was far ahead of the fox again. But at last Viggo had him cornered, but just as he would have caught the goose, Peter stretched out his left leg and meant to trip Viggo, but his skate caught in a frozen twig and--thump! there lay Peter Lightfoot, the ice cracking all around him.

"A good thing he wasn't made of glass," laughed the boys and crowded around Peter. He got up and looked angrily around the circle of boys.

"Now stand in a row, we'll jump," said he, and the boys did. They piled hats and caps on top of each other, first only three high. The whole row jumped that, then four, then five, then six, but each time fewer got over and those who pushed the top cap off with their skates had to stop playing and must stand aside and look on. At last there were eight hats and caps on top of each other, and now only Peter and Viggo were left to jump.

"Put your cap on top!" said Peter, and Viggo did. But all the boys called and shouted, one louder than the other, that no one could ever make that jump.

Now Peter came so fast that the air whistled about him, jumped--and whiff! he was over! He touched Viggo's cap the least little bit, but it did not fall off the pile.

"Hurrah for Peter! That was a masterly jump!" shouted the boys. "Viggo can never do that, he is too small," said one. Allarm seemed to be of the same opinion; he whined and cried and ran in front of Viggo's legs as if he wanted to hinder him. Viggo knew this was the test, and his heart beat fast. He chased the dog away roughly and ran with all his might. Just as he came running fast as the wind ready for the jump Peter called suddenly "Stop, Stop," but Viggo was not the one to be confused at that; he flew over like a bird and there was at least four inches between his skates and the topmost cap. Then the boys crowded around him and shouted that Viggo was the champion; there wasn't a boy who could come up to him. But Peter Lightfoot looked at him with a sly and evil eye, and you could see he was planning to play a trick on him. And indeed, that's what he did.

After a little while Peter took an apple out of his pocket and rolled it over the ice toward the airhole. "The one who dares go for the apple may keep it!" he called. And many dared to try that, for the apple had not rolled far and the ice was strong enough. Now Peter threw an apple farther out, someone got that too. But at last he rolled one that stopped right on the edge of the open water. One boy after the other ran out toward it, but when the ice began to crack they slowly turned around again.

"Don't do it, it is dangerous!" shouted Viggo.

"Oh, yes, Viggo is great when things are easy, but if there is danger he turns pale as a ghost," said Peter and laughed aloud.

This was more than Viggo could bear. He thought of what the Prince of Augustenburg had said before the front, and he thought he must fetch the apple, come what might. But he forgot that "retreat" had been called, for his father had forbidden him to go near the hole. Allarm looked at him with grave eyes and wagged his tail slowly, he did not dare to whine, for he had just been scolded. But that did not help. Viggo ran so that the wind whistled about his ears, and when he had gotten out over the ice some distance he made himself light and let the skates glide of themselves so that he should not fall through. The ice bent under his feet and cracked, but he glided on and on, and the ice did not break. Now he was close by the apple, he bent down to pick it up--crash! the ice broke, and Viggo, head first, fell in.

In a minute Viggo's cap floated up by the edge of the ice. Viggo seemed to have lost consciousness in the icy water, but it was not long before his head appeared above the hole. He swam for the ice and seized the edge, but a piece broke off every time he tried to climb up.

At first the boys stood there dumb with fright. Then they all called to him that he must try to hold on, but no one dared to help him and no one thought of running for help. Peter Lightfoot had sneaked away when Viggo fell in.

The best one of them all was Allarm. First he ran yelping around the hole, but when he saw Viggo appear again he snatched his wet cap between his teeth and as fast as an arrow he ran towards home. When he reached the cottage of Hans the Grenadier the old soldier was just standing in the open doorway. The dog put Viggo's stiff frozen cap at his feet, whined and cried, jumped up on the old man, held on to his coat and dragged him towards the ice. Hans understood right away what was the matter, snatched a rope and ran towards the lake, and in no time he stood by the hole. He threw the rope to Viggo, who had begun to grow stiff from the icy bath, and pulled him out.

Viggo ran as fast as he could to the cottage of Hans, and when he reached the door he had an armor of shining ice over his whole body. When the Grenadier pulled off his trousers they could stand by themselves on the floor; they were frozen stiff.

Viggo, of course, had to change from top to toe, and what should he put on? Hans went to his old chest and came back with his uniform. Viggo looked rather queer, the yellow knee trousers reached to his ankles, and the red coat with yellow cuffs and lapels hung on him like a bag. But he was wearing a real uniform! Hans looked at him. "Well," he said, "I won't say much about the fit of the clothes, but who knows you may wear a better looking uniform some day. The heart is of the right kind, and the nose--well it is doing better."

--_From the Norwegian by Jörgen Moe._

Bikku Matti

On a wooded hillside stood a little cabin. It had but one window and this was so small that, when the round, fair, curly head of a little boy appeared in it, the whole window was filled. Some years ago there had been a brick chimney and the walls had been painted red. At that time the cabin and a little potato field were fenced in neatly. But now it all looked poor, very poor. The smoke escaped through a hole in the turf roof and the fence had fallen to pieces long ago. In this place lived an old blind soldier and his wife. They could not work in the field to make their living; but the old man earned a little money by tying nets; the old woman made a few brooms; the church gave them each year three barrels of rye for bread, and thus they managed to live.

Four or five years ago a young and hard-working couple lived with the old people. Then they all had enough and to spare. But one Sunday morning, the large church boat that carried the people of the parish to church was overturned by a sudden squall, and both the young man and his wife, with many others, were lost in the waves. The old people had stayed at home that day, the old man because he was blind and his wife in order to take care of a little baby.

So the old couple remained there with their sorrow, their poverty and a little grandchild. For the young couple had left a little boy whose name was Matti; because he was so little they called him Bikku Matti. Those who don't understand Finnish will have to guess what the name means.

Bikku had cheeks as red and round as an apple, clear, blue eyes and hair as yellow as gold, the only gold to be found in the cabin. It was Bikku's round face which often filled the cottage window when anything passed on the road.

If you happen to come that way in Summer, you will see a gate across the road close to the cottage. You will have to stop your carriage, unless some one comes to open the gate.

But just wait a little, Bikku Matti will soon be there. There he is in the cabin door. How he runs to reach the gate in time, with his golden hair streaming in the wind. Now he is at the gate. If you have a penny, throw it to him, he rather expects it; but let it be a shiny one--he does not know the value of money and a penny, if bright and new, gives him as much pleasure as a silver coin. But take care not to throw your coin on the road before the horse and carriage have passed the gate; Bikku Matti has but little sense yet, and if he sees the bright penny in the road, he is likely to throw himself over it, allowing the gate to shut right in front of your horse.

On week-days Bikku Matti had only coarse bread and herring to eat, but on Sundays he had potatoes and sour milk. Still, on such food he throve and grew rounder and rounder as the years went by. He could not read much--some prayers and the ten commandments was about all.

But then Matti could do other things. He could stand on his head and turn somersaults where the grass was soft. He could skip stones over the smooth lake, while the grandmother was washing his shirt. He could drive a horse on the main road and ride the neighbor's horse to the watering trough, if someone walked beside him. He could tell the tracks of the blue-jay from those of the crow on the new-fallen snow, and wolf tracks he knew well. He could carve a boat or a sled out of chips of wood and could make horses and cows of pine cones with small twigs for legs. But, although Bikku possessed all these powers (and they were many for a small boy like Bikku), there were some necessary things he did not possess--he had no trousers. This may seem very strange to you, but it was after all not so strange. His grandparents were very poor, and then it was customary in that neighborhood for little boys to go about in plain cotton slips as Bikku did. But this was only on week-days; on Sundays the other boys were dressed in blouses and trousers. It was only Bikku who neither Sunday nor Monday wore anything but the little slip. But for a long time he did not know that trousers were a necessary piece of garment for a little boy. But see what happened.

One Sunday morning when the whole parish were to meet at the beach to go to church, Bikku declared that he was going too. "That will never do, dear child," said Grandmother.

"Why not?" asked Bikku Matti.

"You have no trousers." Bikku became very serious.

"I might have an old skirt to lend you," said Grandmother, "but then everybody would take you for a girl."

"But I am not a girl, I am a man," said Bikku Matti.

"Of course you are," said Grandmother. "A man is a man, be he no larger than a thumb. Stay nicely at home, Bikku dear." And Bikku remained at home that time.

But soon after that there was to be a Fair in the valley, a Horse Fair, and Bikku loved horses better than anything else in the world. He knew they would be there--black, white and brown ones. And there would be a Punch and Judy show, a merry-go-round, and many more wonderful things. Bikku Matti had heard the boys tell great tales about all these things, and now Bikku said that he must go to the Fair.

"It won't do, dear child," said Grandmother again.

"Why not?" asked Bikku Matti.

"There will be many people there, my dear, and you cannot go without trousers."

Bikku Matti struggled with himself a while, and Punch and Judy danced before his eyes. At last he said, "If Grandmother would lend me her skirt?"

"Here it is," said Grandmother, and laughed to herself when the little boy stumbled on the kitchen floor in the skirt. "But you look like a girl," she said.

"If I look like a girl, I won't go," said Bikku Matti. "I am no girl, I am a man."

"Well, you do look like a girl," said Grandmother, "but you might tell everybody whom you meet that you are a man."

"That's what I will do," thought Bikku Matti, and so he started off.

On the road he met a strange gentleman who stopped and said, "Little girl, can you tell me the way to the Fair?"

"I am no girl, I am a man," said Bikku Matti.

"You don't look like a man," said the stranger.

Bikku Matti made no answer, but when he reached the Fair he called out so that all could hear him, "I only look like a girl, but I am a man."

Men and women laughed out loud. Boys and girls gathered about Bikku Matti, clapped their hands and cried, "Oh, look at little Mary, where did you get your pretty clothes?"

"It's Grandmother's skirt, and not mine," said Bikku Matti. "I am no Mary, I am Matti, don't you see?"

Then the largest and naughtiest of the boys took Bikku Matti on his back, carried him to the Punch and Judy show and cried out, "Come and see a penny-lad! Come and see my man in a petticoat!"

Bikku Matti grew angry and pulled the boy's hair with all his might. "It is not my skirt, it is Grandmother's skirt!" he cried and he began to weep.

But the naughty boy kept on. "Come and see this man in a skirt."

And in this way he ran around the whole Fair grounds, the boy calling, Bikku pulling his hair and crying. Never had Bikku had such a ride. He cried, he screamed, he scratched, he bit, and when at last he got loose, he ran as fast as he could, but he stumbled in the skirt, crawled up again, stumbled, got up again and ran on until he reached Grandfather's cabin all out of breath and sobbing.

"Take off the skirt!" he cried. "I won't have any skirt, I am a man!"

"Don't cry, Bikku dear," said his grandmother, trying to comfort him. "When you grow old, you will show them that you are a man as good as any."

"Yes," said Grandfather, "and next time I will lend you my trousers."

They loved Bikku more than anything else in the world, these old grandparents, they would have given him gold embroidered velvet trousers, if it had been in their power. Now Grandmother gave him a large piece of bread and butter, and Bikku Matti sat in the corner eating it while the tears dried on his cheek.

Some time after this there was great excitement in the valley. The road was one cloud of dust, from all the driving and running. A gentleman of much importance was expected to come through the valley. It was even said that the gentleman was next to the King himself. All the people came to see him and strange things were told about him. "He drives in a golden carriage," said some. "With twelve horses before it. He is dressed from top to toe in silver and velvet," said others. But the children had their own thoughts about him. They imagined that the high gentleman carried a big sack on his back filled with silver coins and candy sticks, which he threw out among them.

Bikku Matti also heard about it and this time he had to be by the roadside with the other children, there was no help for that.

"But what about your clothes?" said Grandfather, smiling. "Perhaps you are to borrow Grandmother's skirt?"

"I won't have any skirt!" cried Bikku Matti, and turned red to the roots of his hair when he remembered all that he had suffered because of that skirt. "No, never in the world will I wear a skirt again. I want Grandfather's trousers."

"Well, little one, come with me to the garret and we will see how well the trousers fit you," said Grandfather. And now Bikku Matti was happy. He climbed up the garret ladder like a cat, so fast that Grandfather could not keep up with him. Then they came to the big painted chest farthest off in the corner.

Of this chest Bikku stood in great awe, but he had only had glimpses into it once or twice. Now it was opened, and the first thing that lay there glittering before him was a large sword in its gleaming sheath. "O, Grandfather, I want that," he cried.

"Oh you do?" said Grandfather. "Hold the sword till I get the uniform out of the chest."

Bikku Matti took the sword; it was so heavy that he could hardly lift it. Old Grandfather stroked his cheek. "When you become a man," he said, "perhaps you may carry a sword too, and be allowed to fight for your country. Do you want to do that Bikku?"

"Yes," answered Bikku, straightening himself. "I shall cut the heads off all of them!"

"Oh now, that depends upon whom it is you will fight."

"Yes," thought Bikku, "I shall cut the heads off all the wolves and hawks, and thistles and of all those who will harm Grandfather and Grandmother, and of all those who call me a girl."

"Well, well Bikku, take care, don't be too cruel. Here are the trousers. You need the coat too, I suppose."

"Yes, Grandfather, and the sword, and the cap too."

"Here you have it all, Bikku, but you must promise not to go farther than the gate." And Bikku promised.

Just as they came down from the garret they heard the sheriff driving on the road calling and shouting to the people to get out of the road, that the high gentleman was coming soon. There was a great deal of hurry and flurry on the road as well as in the little kitchen.

Grandfather's trousers were put on Bikku Matti. They were gray with light blue stripes along the sides and so wide and long that Bikku could easily have hidden himself in one of the trouser legs. It looked very discouraging, but on they must go. From below about half the length of the trousers was rolled up and fastened with pins, and from above they were hitched up and tied with a kerchief under Bikku's arms.

There was just as much difficulty with the coat. When it was on the little fellow, the sleeves and coat tails swept the floor.

"No, this will not do," said Grandmother, and she rolled up the sleeves and coat tails and fastened them with pins. Bikku was waiting impatiently.

The tall soldier cap was then placed on his head, but it would have fallen down over his little head and neck clear to the shoulders, if it had not been filled with hay. At last they tied the heavy sword on Bikku's back and the little knight was ready.

There never was a hero returning from a victory half so proud as was Bikku in his first pair of trousers. The little body was lost in the big uniform, only the blue, honest eyes, the red cheeks and the important little pug-nose could be seen between the collar and the cap. The brave knight started off with the sword scraping the ground. But soon the pins began to fall out, the cap nearly upset, and it looked as if our soldier would surely fall at each step he took. The old people had not laughed so heartily for a long time.

Grandfather, who could hear but not see the outfit, swung the little boy about, kissed the little nose that stuck out and said, "God bless you little Bikku, may no lad worse than you wear our country's uniform. Now take care to salute when the great gentleman comes--so." And then he taught Bikku to stand straight as a stick with serious face, left arm stretched straight down, right hand at the forehead.

"Yes, Grandfather," said Bikku, who was always willing to learn. Bikku had just arrived at the gate when a dust cloud was seen on the road and the great gentleman came driving. Now he was quite near, oh, how fast he came! Suddenly the driver called, "Whoa!" and again, "Open that gate."

Now this is what happened. The sheriff himself was standing at the gate to see that everything should go off right. He was to give the command and his assistant was to open it. But when the carriage approached with lightning speed, the sheriff wanted to make a deep bow. In doing so he fell, and there he lay sprawling in the ditch by the road. His assistant waited for the word of command, and when he saw his superior officer fall, he became so confused that he could not think of opening the gate. Therefore the gate remained shut right before the nose of the high gentleman. The carriage had stopped and now the gentleman looked out surprised to see what was the matter, while the driver kept on calling, "Open the gate!"

Then Bikku Matti stepped up, though with much difficulty, opened the gate and saluted exactly as Grandfather had taught him. The driver whipped up the horses, the carriage started, but the gentleman called, "Stop!" and the carriage stopped a second time.

"Who are you, little one in my regiment's uniform?" called out the high gentleman, and laughed so heartily that the carriage shook.

Bikku Matti did not understand anything of this and did only what Grandfather had told him to, saluted again as straight and serious as could be. This amused the high gentleman still more, and he asked the people who stood near about the parents of the little boy.

The sheriff, who by this time had crept out of the ditch, came hurriedly forward to tell that the little boy was an orphan and lived with his grandfather, an old blind soldier named Hugh.

What was the surprise of all, when the gentleman stepped out of his carriage, took Bikku by the hand and walked with him straight to the little cabin. And what excitement in the little hut! Grandmother could say nothing when the stranger entered, but stood there open-mouthed. Grandfather, because he saw nothing, had more courage and pointed politely in the direction where he knew the bench was.

"God's blessings on you my friends," said the stranger and shook hands with the old people. "It seems to me I recognize you, old comrade," he continued, while he looked searchingly at Grandfather. "Are you not Hugh No. 39 of my old regiment?"

"Yes, Captain," answered Grandfather in great surprise, for he recognized the voice.

"God be praised, that at last I have found you. Do you think I could forget you, who saved my life? You, who carried me on your back across the stream while the bullets sang about your ears, and the enemies were all about? If you have forgotten it, do you think I ever should forget it? After the war was over, I looked for you and inquired for you everywhere, but without success, and at last I thought you were dead. But now I have found you, and now I may repay you a little by looking after you and yours in your old age. And what a fine boy you have!"

The gentleman caught Bikku Matti in his arms, lifted him high up and kissed him so heartily that the hat fell off, the sword rattled and the rest of Grandmother's pins fell out of the coat and the trousers.

"No, no, let me alone," said Bikku. "Now you have made me drop the cap, and Grandfather will be angry."

"Dear sir," said Grandmother, quite ashamed of Bikku, "be so kind as not to mind how the boy talks; he is not used to being with people."

"Don't worry about the boy's talk, he is right in guarding the soldier's cap. Listen, Bikku, do you want to become a soldier like your Grandfather?" said the gentleman.

"Grandfather says it depends upon whom I am to fight," said Bikku.

"That is right," said the gentleman, "and you certainly are not lacking in courage."

"That, Captain, is because he wears trousers for the first time to-day, and that gives courage."

"Rather say it is the old uniform which gives courage," said the General (for now he was a general). "Much gunpowder and much honor are hidden in that old uniform and the memories of it pass from generation to generation. But this is a new age and the boy may live to serve his country in many ways. Are you strong little man?"

Bikku did not answer but held out his arm and showed his muscles.

"Yes," said the General, "I see you will be as strong as a bear when you are a little older. Will you go with me and eat soft bread and drink milk every day, and cakes and candy you may have too, if you are good?"

"And shall I have a horse to ride on?" asked Bikku.

"Yes, of course," said the General.

Bikku thought it over a while, his little blue eyes flew from the stranger to Grandfather, from Grandfather to Grandmother, and back to the stranger again. At last he crept upon the old woman's knee and said, "I will stay with Grandfather and Grandmother."

"But dear Bikku," said the old soldier, with tears in his eyes, "Grandfather gives you only hard bread, water and herring. Don't you hear that gentleman offers you soft bread, milk and other good things, and a horse to ride?"

"I want to stay with Grandfather, I won't leave Grandfather," cried Bikku, hardly able to keep the tears away.

"You are right," said the General and stroked Bikku's round cheek, "stay with your Grandfather, and none of you shall suffer want, and when you grow to be a man, come to me, if I am still living. You shall have fields to plow and forests to hew. But whatever work you do, it is all the same, you will be an honest and loyal son of your country. Will you not, Bikku?"

"Yes," said the boy standing straight and tall.

"God bless you child," said Grandfather and Grandmother, moved to tears. "And God bless our beloved country, and may he give it many loyal sons like you, little Bikku. Honor thy father and thy mother that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee."

"That's written in my primer," said Bikku Matti softly.

"Yes, but it must be written in our hearts also," said the general, and once more he kissed the boy.

--_From the Swedish by Zacharias Topelius._

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.