German fiction -- Translations into English; Netherlands -- History -- Eighty Years' War, 1568-1648 -- Fiction
This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
entire meal of them. D.W.]
A WORD, ONLY A WORD
By Georg Ebers
Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford
Volume 1.
CHAPTER I.
"A word, only a word!" cried a fresh, boyish voice, then two hands were
loudly clapped and a gay laugh echoed through the forest. Hitherto
silence had reigned under the boughs of the pines and tops of the
beeches, but now a wood-pigeon joined in the lad's laugh, and a jay,
startled by the clapping of hands, spread its brown wings, delicately
flecked with blue, and soared from one pine to another.
Spring had entered the Black Forest a few weeks before. May was just
over, yet the weather was as sultry as in midsummer and clouds were
gathering in denser and denser masses. The sun was still some distance
above the horizon, but the valley was so narrow that the day star had
disappeared, before making its majestic entry into the portals of night.
When it set in a clear sky, it only gilded the border of pine trees on
the crest of the lofty western heights; to-day it was invisible, and the
occasional, quickly interrupted twittering of the birds seemed more in
harmony with the threatening clouds and sultry atmosphere than the lad's
gay laughter.
Every living creature seemed to be holding its breath in anxious
suspense, but Ulrich once more laughed joyously, then bracing his bare
knee against a bundle of faggots, cried:
"Give me that stick, Ruth, that I may tie it up. How dry the stuff is,
and how it snaps! A word! To sit over books all day long for one stupid
word--that's just nonsense!"
"But all words are not alike," replied the girl.
"Piff is paff, and paff is puff!" laughed Ulrich. "When I snap the
twigs, you always hear them say 'knack, knack,' and 'knack' is a word
too. The juggler Caspar's magpie, can say twenty."
"But father said so," replied Ruth, arranging the dry sticks. "He toils
hard, but not for gold and gain, to find the right words. You are always
wanting to know what he is looking for in his big books, so I plucked up
courage to ask him, and now I know. I suppose he saw I was astonished,
for he smiled just as he does when you have asked some foolish question
at lessons, and added that a word was no trifling thing and should not be
despised, for God had made the world out of one single word."
Ulrich shook his head, and after pondering a few minutes, replied.
"Do you believe that?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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