"The child ought to have been at school a year ago, and most certainly this last winter," said the pastor. "The schoolmaster sent you word about it, but you gave him no answer. What are you thinking of doing with the child, neighbor?" "I am thinking of not sending her to school," was the answer. "How are you going to let her grow up then?" "I am going to let her grow up and be happy among the goats and birds; with them she is safe, and will learn nothing evil." "But the child is not a goat or a bird, she is a human being. It is time she began her lessons. This is the last winter she must be allowed to run wild; next winter she must come regularly to school every day." "She will do no such thing," said the old man with calm determination. "Do you mean that you intend to stick obstinately to your decision?" said the pastor, growing somewhat angry. "You have been about the world, and I should have given you credit for more sense, neighbor." "Indeed," replied the old man, "could you expect me to send a young child down the mountain on ice-cold mornings through storm and snow, and let her return at night when the wind is raging? Have you forgotten the child's mother, Adelaide? She was a sleep-walker, and had fits. Might not the child be attacked in the same way if obliged to over-exert herself? And you think you can come and force me to send her? I will go before all the courts of justice in the country, and then we shall see who will force me to do it!" "Perhaps you are right, neighbor," said the pastor in a friendly tone of voice. "If it is impossible to send the child to school from here, come down into Doerfli and live again among your fellow-men. What sort of a life is this you lead, alone, and with bitter thoughts towards God and man." "No, pastor, as to going down to Doerfli to live, that is far from my thoughts; the people despise me and I them; it is therefore best for all of us that we live apart." The visitor had risen and stood holding out his hand to the old man as he added with renewed earnestness, "I will wager, that next winter you will be down among us again, and we shall be good neighbors as of old. Promise me that you will come and live with us again and become reconciled to God and man." Alm-Uncle gave the pastor his hand and answered him calmly and firmly, "You mean well by me, I know, but I will not send the child to school nor come and live among you." "Then God help you!" said the pastor, as he left the hut and went down the mountain. Alm-Uncle was out of humor. When Heidi said as usual that afternoon, "Can we go down to grandmother now?" he answered, "Not today." He did not speak again the whole day, and the following morning when Heidi again asked the same question, he replied, "We will see." But before the dinner bowls bad been cleared away another visitor arrived, and this time it was Dete. She wore a fine feathered hat and a long trailing dress which swept the floor.