Maezli: A Story of the Swiss ValleysSpyri, Johanna
General
Maezli: A Story of the Swiss Valleys
Spyri, Johanna
Switzerland -- Juvenile fiction
Kurt, who was usually cheerful, had been as terribly depressed for the
last few days as if he had been carrying a heavy weight around with him
all the time. He had kept something from his mother, and therefore the
weight seemed to get heavier and heavier. It oppressed Kurt more than he
could say that he had not immediately confessed his fault. But how could
the mother have believed him when he told her that he had seen a figure
which could not possibly be human. He really felt like a traitor towards
his mother. All people in Nolla believed anew that a ghost of
Wildenstein went about, for the apparition had actually been seen. Kurt
knew quite well that it was all his fault. He hardly dared to look at
his mother and he longed for somebody to help him. He was filled with
the craving to be happy again.
Only Lippo and Mäzli pursued their usual occupations and were untroubled
by heavy thoughts. As soon as Mäzli noticed that the usual cheerfulness
had departed from the house, she tried to get into a different atmosphere
at once. She always knew a place of refuge in such a case. "Oh, mama, I
have to go and see Apollonie," she would repeatedly say with firm
conviction to her mother. Having the greatest confidence in Apollonie's
guarding hand, and knowing, besides, that Mäzli's visits always were
welcome, the mother often let her youngest go there. The little girl was
well able to find her way to the cottage and always went without
attempting any digressions from the path. In the evening Loneli
generally accompanied her home. Mäzli would arrive carrying a large
bunch of flowers, the inevitable gift from Apollonie, Presenting them to
her mother, she would shout: "There they are again, just look! I have
some for you again, mother."
The mother then looked full of delight at the bunch and said, "Yes, those
are the same lovely mignonette that used to grow in the castle-garden,
Apollonie has transplanted them into her own. But they were much finer
in the castle, nowhere could their equal have been found," she concluded,
inhaling the delicious fragrance of the flowers.
Mäzli promptly poked her little nose into the bouquet, uttering an
exclamation of unspeakable delight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account