The Grandmother. Божена Немцова

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СКАЧАТЬ himself, he cursed his thoughtlessness, and seizing his gun hastened away. In the yard he missed his dog. "Hector! Hector!" but no Hector appeared. "Where in the deuce is that brute racing?" he scolded. The boys ran out, saying that they would fetch him, that he was somewhere with Sultan and Tyrol.

      The gamekeeper sat down upon the bench under the linden to wait until the boys brought his dog. Then he started, but stopped once more and called to Grandmother: "Come up our way, my wife is saving some guinea eggs for you." He knew well the weak points of housewives. Grandmother assented at once. "Give your wife my regards and tell her we will come." Thus they always took leave of each other with some pleasant word.

      The gamekeeper used to go, if not every day, certainly every other day past The Old Bleachery. This he did year in and year out.

The other person that one would see every morning at about ten o'clock, on the walk leading to Proshek's house, was the miller. That was his hour to see about the locks. Grandmother used to say that the miller was a good man, but somewhat of a rogue. This was because he was very fond of teasing and cracking jokes at the expense of others. He never laughed himself, but his face was drawn ​out into a mischievous grin. His eyes from beneath his pendent eyebrows looked cheerily into the world. He was of medium height and thick-set. He wore light-gray trousers the whole year round, at which the children marveled greatly, until one day he told them it was the miller's color. In the winter, he wore a long cloak and heavy boots; in the summer, a grayish blue jacket and slippers. On week days, he wore a low cap trimmed with fleece. In rain or shine his trousers were turned up, and he was never seen without his snuff box. As soon as he was in sight, the children ran to meet him and went with him to the lock. On the way he teased the boys. Sometimes he asked Johnny if he could reckon how much a penny loaf would cost, when flour was two Rhine dollars a bushel. When the boy answered correctly, he would say: "You're a trump! Why, they could appoint you squire to Kramolna!"^[1] He would give the boys snuff, and when they sneezed hard, he smiled grimly. Whenever the miller came, Adelka hid behind Grandma's petticoats; she could not yet speak plainly, and he teased her by asking her to repeat after him quickly, three times in succession, "Our gable is of all gables the most gabley." The poor little girl almost cried when she could not say it. To make up for this, he would bring her, sometimes a basket of strawberries, sometimes almonds, or other delicacies, and when he wished to flatter her, he called her "little linnet."

      Another person who used to go regularly past The Old Bleachery was Long Moses, the watch​man from the castle. He was tall and slender like a pole, with dark sinister looks, and was wont to carry a bag upon his shoulders. Betsy, the housemaid, told the children that he carried disobedient boys in that bag, and from that moment,whenever Long Moses made his appearance, they turned crimson and were as still as mice. Grandmother was angry and forbade the girl to tell any more such stories; but when Vorsa, the other servant, said that Moses was a grabber, that everything that he could reach clung to his fingers, Grandmother did not say anything to that. Indeed, he must have been a bad man, that Moses, and to the children he remained terrible, even if they no longer believed that he carried children in the bag.

      In the summer, when the nobility lived in the castle, the children often saw some beautiful princess on horseback, with several lords following in her train. The miller seeing this once remarked to Grandmother: "It appears to me like the whip of God (a comet) dragging its tail behind."

      "With this difference, my dear miller: the whip of God announces evil to the world; the nobility, when they show themselves, bring us profit," replied Grandmother. The miller turned his snuff box, smiled grimly, but made no reply.

      Christina, the innkeeper's daughter, frequently came over in the evening to visit Grandmother and the children. She was as pretty as a pink, spry as a squirrel, and happy as a lark. Grandmother called her Smila, because her face was always radiant with smiles.

      Christina came on a run, just for a word; the gamekeeper stopped in; the miller came for a mo​ment; the miller's wife, when once in a great while she undertook to come to The Old Bleachery, brought her spinning; the gamekeeper's wife generally brought her baby; but when the stewardess from the manor honored the Proshek house with her presence, Mrs. Proshek would say: "To-day we shall have company."

      On such occasions, Grandmother took the children and went away; she had not the heart to dislike anyone; but this lady was not agreeable to her, because she held her head higher than her station warranted. One day, when Grandmother had been but a short time at her daughter's and was unacquainted with the customs of the family and those of the neighbors, the stewardess, with two other ladies, came to make a call. Mrs. Proshek happened to be out, and Grandmother, according to her custom, after asking the ladies to be seated brought bread and salt and invited her distinguished guests to partake of her hospitality; but the distinguished guests politely informed her that they were not hungry, and then gave each other a significant glance, as much as to say: "You old-fashioned granny, do you think we are only so, so?" As soon as Mrs. Proshek entered the room, she saw that a mistake had been made; and when the ladies were gone, she told her mother never to offer bread and salt to such people, as it was not the custom among them.

      "Theresa," spoke up Grandmother quite put out, "who will not accept bread and salt from me is not worthy to cross my threshold; you yourself may do as you please, but do not come to me with any of your new fangled notions."

      ​Among the annual visitors that came to the Old Bleachery, the peddler Vlach was one of the most welcome. He came with a one horse wagon, which was loaded with delicacies: such as almonds, raisins, figs, perfumeries, oranges and lemons, and toilet soaps. Mr. Proshek bought up a large supply both in the fall and in the spring, and for this reason the peddler always gave the children a package of candy. This pleased Grandmother, who would say: "He is a clever man, this Vlach; still, I don't like his haggling ways of bargaining." She preferred to trade with the medicine vender, who also came twice a year. She always bought a bottle of Jerusalem balsam for wounds, and added to the price a large slice of bread.

      She always had a hearty welcome for the wire drawer and the Jew peddler. They were the same ones each year, so that they seemed to belong to the family. But when the Gypsies appeared near the village, she was alarmed and quickly took some food and carried it out to them; for she said: "It is for one's own advantage to see them clear to the cross roads."

      The most welcome visitor, both to the children and to the rest of the family, was Mr. Beyer, the gamekeeper of Marshendorf, from the Sudetic mountains. He came every year as the overseer of the wood that was floated down the Upa river. Mr. Beyer was tall and slender, his body being composed apparently of bone and muscle only. He had a long face, a sallow complexion, large, bright eyes, a Roman nose, brown hair, and a long mustache which he was in the habit of stroking. The gamekeeper of Riesenburg was thick-set, with a ​florid complexion, a short mustache, and hair always in order; Mr. Beyer's hair was parted in the middle and hung down helow his coat collar. The children noticed this at once. The gamekeeper of Riesenburg walked with an easy gait, Mr. Beyer, as though he were stepping over precipices. The former never wore such heavy boots as the latter, and his gun straps and munition bag were finer and newer than Mr. Beyer's. In his cap he wore blue jay's feathers, while Mr. Beyer's green felt hat was decorated with feathers of kites, hawks, and eagles.

      Thus looked Mr. Beyer; but the children liked him as soon as they saw him, and Grandmother declared that children and dogs never made any mistakes as to who were their friends; and she was right. Mr. Beyer was very fond of children. Johnny was his pet,—naughty Johnny, who was generally called a scamp; but Mr. Beyer said he would make a good, sturdy youth, and that should he take a fancy to forestry, he himself would undertake to instruct him. The gamekeeper of Riesenburg, who usually came to The Old Bleachery to see his brother of the mountains, would say: "Indeed, if he should wish to be a gamekeeper I myself would take him; for very likely my Frankie will be one, too." But Mr. Beyer objected to this; he said: "Brother, this would not do at all; here he would be too near his home; and, besides, it is always well for a young man to learn the difficulties of his calling. You СКАЧАТЬ