Chapter 2

After some time the man of the house came back and a sturdy fellow behind him. The latter began to talk in Sami's own language. He wanted to console the boy and said he would soon go on in a carriage. Then Sami asked 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 servant here in the inn, and the place was called Aigle. Sami would have to travel an hour longer and would not reach Zweisimmen before twelve o'clock at night. But there was a coachman here from Interlaken, who had to go back and would take him along.

The man of the house had bread and eggs brought for Sami and when he said he wasn't hungry, he put everything kindly into the boy's pocket. Then he led the boy out. Outside stood a large coach with two horses and high up on the top sat the driver. No one was inside. Sami was lifted up, the driver placed him next himself and drove away. At any other time this would have pleased Sami very much, but now he was too sad. He kept thinking of his grandmother, who could no longer talk with him and would never wake again. After some time the driver began to talk to him. Sami had to tell him where he came from and to whom he was going. He told him everything, how he had lived with his grandmother, how she had fallen asleep early that day, and did not wake up again; and that he was going to find a cousin in Zweisimmen and would have to live with him. Sami's childish description touched the driver so deeply that he finally said:

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

Then when he saw Sami's eyes close with the approaching twilight and only open again when they went over a stone, and the two of them up on the box were jounced almost dangerously against each other, he grasped the boy firmly, lifted him up and slipped him backwards into the coach. Here he fell at once fast asleep and when he finally opened his eyes again, the sun was shining brightly in his face. He was lying in his clothes on a huge, big bed in a room with white walls. In all his life he had never seen such walls. He looked around in consternation. Then the coachman of the day before came in the door.

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

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

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

"Well, good luck to you. I have nothing to do in there and have farther 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. A woman came out, looked in amazement first at the boy, then at his big bundle, and said rudely: "Where have you come from with all your household goods?"

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

"Bring your father out," said the mother to one of her boys. Their father was 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't know where he is going," exclaimed his wife.

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

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

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

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

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

After this command had been carried out, he continued slowly: "There is no help for it. It was stipulated at the time the house was sold, that room must be made in the house if either Mary Ann, Sami or the child should come back. Besides, it is not so bad as it seems. Where three sleep together there is room for a fourth, and he can do some work for his food. The parish can do something for his clothes."

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

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

Then the woman opened the bundle. She was not a little surprised, when she found inside not only Sami's clothes, all in the best of order, but also two good dresses, aprons and neckerchiefs. She called Sami up to her, 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 he could surely make no use of them. The clothes which his grandmother had always worn were so dear to Sami, that he looked on with sad eyes, as they were carried away, but he thought it had to be so.

He had already made the acquaintance of the three boys. They had shown him below in front of the house how one of them could best throw down the others, and had demonstrated all sorts of useful tricks. But as each tried to outdo the others in showing off his knowledge, a struggle ensued and the tricks were immediately applied; one threw another over the third, 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, with great hoes on their shoulders, and Stöffi beside a cart which had to be taken along. They waited for their father, and then all went out to the field. Here Stöffi and Sami had to rake together the grass, which the father cut, and load it on the cart, and bring home to the cows. Michael and Uli had to hoe the weeds in the next field near by. Now it appeared that Sami did not know at all how to use the rake, for he had never done such 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 he could do nothing.

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

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

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

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

After the boys had worked several hours in the afternoon, they sat down in the shade of an old apple-tree to eat their luncheon, and the piece of black 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. This evening there is to be one in the village, and, as I am almost through with my piece in the field, you can finish it, so I can go early to see the 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 your promise, 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 am going to see the bear."

Whereupon Michael ran off.

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

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

"I suppose he will keep us waiting," remarked the farmer's wife sharply. When all had finished and the milk mugs were empty, the woman cleared them away and placed the few potatoes left over on the kitchen table and growled:

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

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

"It is right that you wanted to finish your work, but you must work 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 of the three boys' fists to say anything about it.

He preferred to go straight to bed, for he was too tired to eat. But he couldn't go to sleep. He had received so many new impressions, he had borne so much anguish, and had to do so much work besides, he could think of nothing else. But now his grandmother came before his eyes again as she had prayed with him at evening and had been so kind to him, and everything she had told him. He wanted so much to pray, it seemed to him as if his grandmother was near and told him the dear Lord would always comfort 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 next day, 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 began to feel comforted, because he could take refuge with the dear Lord and ask Him to help him, now that he had no one left in the world to whom he could speak and who could assist him. When at last his eyes closed from great weariness he dreamed he was sitting with his grandmother on the wall and above them all the birds were singing so loud and so joyfully that 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 no longer the birds singing; it was the farmer's wife ordering the boys harshly 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 they all sprang out of bed and in a few minutes were down-stairs, where their father was already sitting at the table and would not have waited much longer.

The day did not pass very differently from the one before, and thus passed 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 took pains and followed his grandmother's advice carefully. He always had something to do for the other boys still, so that he never finished his work a moment before supper-time. But he was no longer late. A change had also come about in this. Stöffi had learned that there was one thing Sami could not or would not do which he himself could do very well: he could not 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; you are quick enough when anyone is watching you."

Then Sami had accordingly told all the truth, and the father had threatened to beat the boys if they didn't do their work themselves. Afterwards Stöffi had thrashed Sami to punish him, and had warned him that 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 the truth 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 the same thing in the end:

"But I shall do it."

This firmness was the result of Sami's sure conviction that the dear Lord heard and knew everything and that lying was something wicked, which did not please Him.

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

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

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

Meanwhile their own three boys could go to school, which had now begun again, 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 his work 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, but something came which was much harder to bear than the extra burden of work, which was too much for the others.

Every day the boys fought in the field outside, and Sami, as the smallest, always came off with the most blows. But that was the end of it, and when the boys came home at night no one thought any more about it. In the evening the three boys were assigned to the little room with the 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 the three were angry because Sami had no arithmetic to do, and then one would accuse the other of taking the light away from him, and all three would scream that Sami didn't need any at all for his work. Then one would pull the lamp one way, and another the other way, until it was upset and the oil would run over the table into Sami's apples. Then there would be a really murderous tumult in the darkness; all hands would grope in the oil and one would always outcry the others. Then the mother would come in very cross and want to know who was always starting such mischief. Then one 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, and his angry wife would always reply that she had indeed said the boy would be an apple of discord in the house, and a Winter like this they had never experienced. Often Sami had to endure many hard words and undeserved punishment. On such evenings he remained sleepless for a long time sitting on his bed.

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

At this time Sami knew nothing about this and almost never went to sleep without tears; indeed, he often wondered whether the birds were still calling up in the ash-trees: "Only trust in the dear Lord!" and if it were still true that everything would come out right. The only comfort for him was that his grandmother had told him so positively, and he held fast to that.

It was a long, hard Winter. The snow lay so deep and immovable on the meadows and trees, that Sami often asked with anxiety in his heart, if it would ever entirely disappear, so that the meadows would be green again, and the flowers become alive. It was already April, and the cold white covering of snow still lay all around. Then a warm wind from the South blew all one night into the valley, and when on the next day a very warm rain fell, the obstinate snow melted into great brooks. Then came the sun and dried up all the brooks, and everywhere the new young grass sprang up over the meadows.

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

Now that they had come safely over the rough street and had turned into the meadow road, two pulling, two pushing, they wanted to rest a little while. They stopped under the first large pear-tree, stretched themselves out on the ground and looked up into the blue sky. In the pear-tree above, the birds were singing merrily together, and suddenly one piped up in the midst of the others, always the same note, exactly as if 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 and sharp above the singing of all the other birds.

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

"You are just talking nonsense!" exclaimed Stöffi to the happy Sami. "The bird is more knowing than you are. That is the rain bird; I know him well. 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 saying to himself:

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

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

Then the blood rose to Sami's cheeks and the tears came into his eyes and, 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 in his anger Sami turned quite differently from usual, so that Stöffi had to call the others to help him.

A great struggle ensued; the blows became more and more violent, first on one side and then on the other. Suddenly the cart was upset. A fearful cracking and crashing sounded, and a great heap of red, brown and white crockery lay on the ground. Dumb with fright, the boys stood and looked at 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 and take the wheel off from the axle.

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

Then Steffi's wrath rose to its height.

"You traitor, you spy and mischief-maker!" he screamed. "You are nothing but a ragamuffin. We will force you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soon the farmer's wife came upstairs, packed Sami's things together and tied them up again into a bundle, which was now much smaller than when he had brought it there, for some pieces of his old things had been worn out and were not replaced, and his grandmother's clothes were no longer there.

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