An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 1 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)Reuter, Fritz
General
An Old Story of My Farming Days Vol. 1 (of 3).: (Ut Mine Stromtid)
Reuter, Fritz
Farm life -- Fiction
Then she threw her arms round her own father's
neck, saying: "It was you, it was you." But the good old bailiff
confessed with a sad smile that he had had nothing to do with it, and
there were tears in his eyes, when after having stroked her hair
fondly, he took her by the hand and led her to Mrs. Behrens, saying:
"This is the person you have to thank, Louie," but the clergyman's wife
was too busy at that moment at least to listen to thanks, for she
called her husband to come and try on his new dressing-gown to see how
it fitted him, and asked whether it was not lucky that she had fixed
upon a new dressing-gown for his present, instead of the pair of
trousers she had at first thought of. And as the dressing-gown fitted
beautifully and was very becoming, she went back a few steps, and
looked at her husband in the same way as a child, who has put her new
doll in the sofa-corner that she may examine it from a little distance.
When she turned round she saw a blue paper parcel lying on her plate,
which Mr. Behrens had placed there unnoticed by her. She seized upon
it, and while untying the string, wondered audibly what it could
contain, and said she felt certain some one had been playing her a
practical joke; at last the paper was removed, and there was a
beautiful piece of black silk, enough to make a dress!--Every one was
happy: Hawermann had found a new pipe on his plate, which he filled and
began to smoke; the pastor had placed himself in the sofa-corner in his
new dressing-gown, and rejoiced in seeing the happy faces around him;
Mrs. Behrens and Louisa found it impossible to sit still, but were
continually moving about the room, and holding the materials for their
new dresses under their chins to see how they would look when made up,
and stroking them to show how smoothly they would lie. Frank on the
other hand withdrew a little into the background oppressed by the sad
feeling that he had never known a happy home-like Christmas-eve. He
rested his head on his hand as he thought that when kind friends and
relations had asked him to spend his Christmas-holidays with them, he
had there most of all missed the presence of the originals of the two
portraits over which he had placed garlands of _immortelles_. He felt
that he belonged to no one in this house either, but he must not
destroy the pleasure of others by showing his sadness, and with a great
effort he forced himself to look up and smile, and as he did so he
found Louisa's large beautiful eyes fixed on him full of sorrowful
sympathy as if she had been able to read his very heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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