Grandfathers -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Switzerland -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Switzerland -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
And now Peter's whistle was heard and all the goats came along,
leaping and springing, and Heidi soon found herself surrounded
by the whole flock, pushed this way and that by their
obstreperous greetings, but at last she managed to get through
them to where Snowflake was standing, for the young goat had in
vain striven to reach her.
Peter now gave a last tremendous whistle, in order to startle
the goats and drive them off, for he wanted to get near himself
to say something to Heidi. The goats sprang aside and he came up
to her.
"Can you come out with me to-day?" he asked, evidently unwilling
to hear her refuse.
"I am afraid I cannot, Peter," she answered. "I am expecting
them every minute from Frankfurt, and I must be at home when they
come."
"You have said the same thing for days now," grumbled Peter.
"I must continue to say it till they come," replied Heidi. "How
can you think, Peter, that I would be away when they came? As if
I could do such a thing?"
"They would find Uncle at home," he answered with a snarling
voice.
But at this moment the grandfather's stentorian voice was heard.
"Why is the army not marching forward? Is it the field-marshal
who is missing or some of the troops?"
Whereupon Peter turned and went off, swinging his stick round so
that it whistled through the air, and the goats, who understood
the signal, started at full trot for their mountain pasture,
Peter following in their wake.
Since Heidi had been back with her grandfather things came now
and then into her mind of which she had never thought in former
days. So now, with great exertion, she put her bed in order
every morning, patting and stroking it till she had got it
perfectly smooth and flat. Then she went about the room
downstairs, put each chair back in its place, and if she found
anything lying about she put it in the cupboard. After that she
fetched a duster, climbed on a chair, and rubbed the table till
it shone again. When the grandfather came in later he would look
round well pleased and say to himself, "We look like Sunday every
day now; Heidi did not go abroad for nothing."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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