The news of the day spread with wonderful rapidity through the schools
of the three parishes. The next evening, the evening before
Organ-Sunday, every child in Upper and Lower Wood, and above all, in
Middle Lot, knew that the quiet Erick all at once belonged to the
rowdies; that he was not only going to fight with them in the Sunday
battle, but that he was going with the worst rowdy, with Churi and his
companions, early in the morning before church.
Sally came with swollen eyes to supper, for Kaetheli had informed her of
everything: how the fine Erick, whom she would so gladly have taken into
her home and her friendship, had fallen into the hands of the coarse and
wicked Churi and would be ruined and led to do all kinds of wicked
things by the bad boy. All this made her tender heart ache. She had
gone, in the afternoon, to the solitary bench under the apple tree and
had wept until supper time; for, in spite of deep thinking, she had not
been able to find a way by which she could snatch Erick away from the
bad companions.
Edi, too, wore a drawn face as though he lived on trouble and annoyance
only, and his inner wrath goaded him to unpleasant speeches, for he
hardly had taken his seat at table, when he looked across at Sally and
said: "You can count to-morrow the blue bumps which your friend Erick
will carry home with him, when he begins in the morning before church
and serves under Churi."
Not much was needed to make Sally break out. "Yes, I know, Edi, that you
would prefer to begin this evening and fight through the whole day
to-morrow," she cried, half sobbing, half defiant, looking across the
table, "if Papa had not forbidden it."
Edi became flushed, for it came into his mind how long he had searched
for an example after which he might take part and yet hold his own
before his father.
The latter looked earnestly at him and said: "Edi, Edi, I hope you will
try not to be a Pharisee. It is a bad sign for the boy Erick that he has
joined the fighters, moreover, and that he has made friends with the
very worst rowdy. But, dear Sally, you need not knock your potatoes so
roughly about your plate as if they were to blame for all the unpleasant
things; eat them peacefully."
But Sally could not swallow anything more. When soon after Edi lay in
his bed, he heaved a deep sigh and said: "Everything is over for me, but
I will be glad for one thing, that tomorrow comes, because to-morrow is
Sunday. You know what we get to-morrow, Ritz?"
"Sunday school."
"No, I don't mean that, I mean something nice."
"But Sunday school is nice."
"No, I don't mean that either, I mean something which one can use very
well, when no other pleasure comes along."
"An oracle," Ritz said quickly, much contented with the delightful
prospect.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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