Joseph in the Snow, and The Clockmaker. In Three Volumes. Vol. I.. Auerbach Berthold
in Heaven, and awake on earth; and when we die, we fall asleep on earth, and awake in Heaven?'
"Little Joseph is also generally present when his grandfather is talking with his neighbours, so in this way he hears of all the various events and quarrels in the village, and knows all its secret history."
"Why do you say nothing of Martina?" interrupted Edward.
"There is very little to relate about her; she lives a quiet but busy life; ready to lend her aid to any family in sorrow or in need; she talks very little, and is devoted with the most tender love to her father, and he repays her by the love he shows towards little Joseph."
"And the father of the boy, Adam? what of him?"
"He also lives very retired, and, as I told you, he is almost kept a prisoner at home by his parents. He makes no resistance, and seems to think he has made all the reparation in his power, by uniformly declaring that, if he is not allowed to marry Martina, he will never marry at all. The parents anxiously strive to induce Martina to give him up. Very tempting offers have been made to her, and very respectable wooers have come forward, whom old Röttmann has offered to provide with a good sum of money, but she will not for a moment listen to such proposals, and her invariable answer is, 'I could easily get a good husband, but my Joseph can get no other father than Adam, even if he wished it.' A cousin of Martina's, a shoemaker, who is very well off, and a bachelor, appears resolved not to marry until he is quite sure that Martina will not have him. He is called in the village Häspele, and indeed I do not know his real name. On festival nights he helps the girls to wind off the yarn that they have spun, on hasps, and therefore he has got the nickname of Häspele. He is a goodnatured creature, and every year consecutively, plays the part of the carnival Merryandrew. Wherever he goes, the whole year through, people expect him to play the buffoon, which he is quite willing to do; his appearance and manners are so droll, that it is scarcely possible to know when he is in jest, or when in earnest; particularly as he has a very red nose, which looks just as if it was painted. He is sincerely attached to Martina, who has also a great regard for him, but only the kind of liking that all the other girls in the village have; she will never marry him; indeed, no one thinks that any one would marry Häspele. – God be praised!" said the Pastorin, breaking off her story, "my husband must be by this time under shelter of the Röttmanns' roof, if no accident has occurred – and God forbid there should! It would be the most precious Christmas boon to me, the most cheering commemoration of this holy season, if my husband could soften the Röttmännin's hard heart; her husband, Speidel-Röttmann, would soon come round then: in that case I think there is little doubt, that we should remain here, and gladly too. For it was the sad story of Martina and Adam which at last turned the scale, and made my husband resolve to quit this parish. These hard hearted Röttmänner are never at rest, and have at last contrived that everything should be prepared tomorrow for the betrothal of Adam with Tony, the daughter of the Forest Miller. She lately had a young stepmother placed over her, and is resolved to leave home, no matter whither. She is the only girl of respectable family who would accept Adam. The Forest Miller and Röttmann, these two families are the most highly respected; or what is the same thing nearly, the richest, in the whole district. I must say that, for my part, I could not bear to see Adam go to church with the Forest Miller's Tony. It is hard on my husband to stand in his pulpit, and to pour out his inmost heart before his congregation, and to preach faith, and piety, and goodness, and to know, that there are people sitting even in the best pews in the church, whom he can't help seeing, and to whom all he says appears but empty words.
"Listen! the watchman is calling twelve. Otto is certainly arrived by this time, and I feel sure he will do good. Come, let us go to rest also."
CHAPTER V.
A DAY OF TROUBLE
The whole night through, Martina continued as restless as if she knew by intuition that, at this very time, a kind and honest heart had revived the sad story of her life. She was full of impatience, and felt as if she must rush out into the world, in order suddenly to change the whole course of her life – as if it were in her power to accomplish this! The cocks crowed more loudly, and occasionally a cow was heard lowing, and a dog barking. Surely day would soon dawn now.
Martina rose, and lighted the stove, and made a good fire on the hearth besides. She was anxious that the soup for breakfast should be particularly good today, for the sempstress, Leegart, was to arrive early, as little Joseph was to get a new green jacket of Manchester cloth. A slate was lying on the table, on which little Joseph had on the previous evening drawn a gigantic figure of a man, formidable to be seen, and yet the child had said "Look! that is my father." Martina could not help thinking this strange, as she rubbed out the figure. She wished she could as easily efface from the child's memory what she had told him the night before when he was going to sleep, about his father, and that he was to come this very day; that was probably why the child during the night had called out three times, "Is it morning yet?" Martina gazed long at the blazing fire, and half unconsciously sung: —
Faithful love my bosom fills, —
Can true love ever fade?
Oh! what a smile that heart must wear
That never was betrayed!
I cannot brook the heedless gaze
Of them that haunt the busy mart;
And tears come welling to my eyes,
Up from the fountains of my heart.
When Martina, with the pitcher in her hand, opened the door, a strong blast of bitter cold wind rushed in; so she wrapped herself more closely: in the red shawl, with which she had covered her head and her throat, and went along to the well. The day was biting cold, and the water pipes all frozen; indeed there was no water left unfrozen, except in the deep well close to the church. A crowd of women and girls were standing round the well, and when the pitchers were too full, so that the water ran over, there was a great outcry, for the water froze so quickly that it made the ground like slippery ice. The early sun peeped forth for a minute into the valley, but apparently the sight did not please him, for he quickly disappeared again behind the clouds. The fields and meadows were glittering brightly with morning hoarfrost, a chilling sight; for everything freezes quickly when without a sheltering cover of snow. A thick surface of snow, however, lay on the hills.
"God be praised; you will see that these clouds will bring honest snow at last, today!"
"A blessing for the fields, for it is a sorrow to see them so yellow."
"We have always hitherto had snow at Christmas, and sledging at the New Year – " this was the kind of talk round the well. The words of the speakers issued like vapoury clouds from their lips.
"Is it true?" said an elderly woman to Martina when she joined them, "Is it true that our pastor was called to your mother-in-law's last night?"
"I think," said another, "that Röttmann would have no objection to saw up the tree that killed Vincent, and to make a coffin of it for his tigress."
"A very good thing if she were to take herself off, and then you would get your Adam."
"And then we should have a quiet Röttmännin instead of a fierce one."
"If I were you, I would pray the old woman to death. The tailor of Knuslingen knows a prayer, by which you can pray a person to death."
"No, no; you must curse them to death."
This was the discursive talk that went round. Martina, who had filled her pitcher with water, and lifted it on her head, only replied, "Don't speak in so godless a way, remember that tonight is Christmas Eve."
She went slowly homewards, as if the words, that still sounded in her ears, made her linger behind, and she shivered when it occurred to her that perhaps little Joseph had a presentiment of what was going on so far from him, and that this had made him so restless. She had inwardly reproached Adam with not suffering as she did, and at that very hour, he was perhaps enduring the most severe trial that can befall any human being – that of seeing the person you love best on earth draw their last breath with bitter hatred in their soul.
The group of women standing round the well seemed to be in no hurry, for some