The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That CountryKirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
History
The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That Country
Kirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
Estonian literature; Estonian literature -- History and criticism
The little Pärtel grew and prospered, and became the delight of
his parents, and at the age of ten he was sent to another
village to become herd-boy to a rich farmer. All the people of
the household were well satisfied with the herd-boy, as he was
a good quiet fellow, who never gave any annoyance to his
companions. When he left home, his mother put his christening
gift in his pocket, and charged him to keep it as safe as the
apple of his eye, and Pärtel did so. There was an old lime-tree
in the pasturage, and a large granite rock lay under it. The
boy was very fond of this place, and every day in summer he
used to go and sit on the stone under the lime-tree. Here he
used to eat the lunch which was given him every morning, and he
quenched his thirst at a little brook hard by. Pärtel had no
friendship with the other herd-boys, who were up to all sorts
of pranks. It was remarkable that there was no such fine grass
[Pg 312]
anywhere as between the stone and the spring, and although the
flocks grazed here every day, next morning the grass looked
more like that of an enclosed meadow than of a pasturage.
When Pärtel slept a little while on the stone on a hot day, he
had wonderfully pleasant dreams, and when he awoke, the sounds
of music and song were still in his ears, so that he dreamed on
after his eyes were open. The stone was like a dear friend to
him, and he parted from it every day with a heavy heart, and
returned to it next day full of longing. Thus Pärtel lived till
he was fifteen years old, and was no longer to be herd-boy. His
master now employed him as a farm-labourer, but did not give
him any heavier work than he was able to accomplish. On Sundays
and summer evenings, the other young men used to go to visit
their sweethearts, but Pärtel did not join their company. He
stole away, in deep meditation, to his favourite lime-tree in
the pasturage, and often sat under it for half the night. One
Sunday evening he was sitting on the stone playing the flute,
when a milk-white snake crept out from under the stone. It
raised its head as if to listen, and looked at Pärtel with its
bright eyes, which shone like fire. This
[Pg 313]
happened often, and whenever Pärtel had any time to spare, he
used to hasten to the stone to see the beautiful white snake,
which at last became so familiar with him that it often coiled
round his leg.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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