Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1892 — THE GOOSEHERD. [ARTICLE]

THE GOOSEHERD.

BY HERMAN SUDERMAN.

rttANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN By ELIZABETH A. SHARP. Listen and I will toll you the story of my first love. Do you know who my first love was? A gooseherd, a live goos’eherd! I am not joking; I have shed bitter tears over the sufferings which he caused me, even when I was a grown-up and most highly respectable young lady. At the period when he set my heart aflame, it was my highest delight to go barefooted. 1 was eight and he was ten years old; I was the daughter of the Lord of the Manor, he the sou of our smith. In the mornings, when I drank my coffee on the balcony with mamma and mv brother, he would drive his geese down below us, and vanish toward the heath. At first he used to stare at us in native wonderment, without it occurring to him to lift his cap; and when my brother had reproved him, and instructed him to give the company a morning salutation he cried out each time, with a great flourish of his cap: “Good-morning to you.”

If my brother happened to be in a good humor I was allowed to reward the herd for his urbanity by taking a roll Sown to him; and he always seized it out of my hand with a certain curious anxiety, as though he feared 1 might draw it back from him.

What was he like? I can still recall him vividly; the sleek blond hair hung like yellow thatch-work over his sunburnt cheeks, his merry, sly eyes peeped out from under it, his tattered breeches he had fastened above his knees and in his hand he carried a herding switch, in whose green rind he had artistically cut a row of white spiral springs. My childish longings were greedily attracted by this switch. It was lovely to me, to hold this sort of magic wand so totally unlike any other of my toys; and when I further pictured myself herding geese with it, and allowed to go barefoot, it seemed to me I would reach the acme of all earthly happiness. It was one such switch which made us more familiar with one another. One morning, when sitting at coffee, 1 saw him waving a greeting. 1 could no longer restrain my desire, I pieced together the honey-roll which I was eating, concealed it, hastily made my excuses, and ran after him. When he saw me he stopped and shouted to me wonderingly; but when he saw the honey-roll in my hand, his eyes twinkled knowingly. “Vt ill you give me your switch?” 1 asked. "Now why?” he returned, standing on one leg and rubbing its calf with his other foot.

"Because I want it!” I answered impetuously, and added more gently, "I will give you my honey-roll.” His eyes wandered longingly toward the tidbit; bit he said conclusively; “No, 1 must herd the geese with it. But 1 will make you one like it." “Can you, yourself?” I asked, admiringly. “Ach, that’s nothing at all,” he replied, deprecatingly. “1 can also taake flutes and daucing men.” I was so completely carried away by this that without further ado I gave him the honey-roil. He bit a hearty piece from it, and without deigning to give me another look drove his feathered Cock away. I looked after him with bursting heart. He might herd geese while I was obliged to go upstairs t.> Mademoiselle to learn the French vocabulary. “Yes,” I thought, "happiness in this world is indeed badly divided.” In the even.ng he brought me the promised switch, which was more beautiful than any I hud imagined in my wildest dreams. Not only nad it the white rings, but it ended with a knob on which a human fupe—•mine or his, I could not guess, was roughly carved. I was the happiest of mortals. Tnereafter we were friends. I divided my sweet morsels with him; he in return gave me worksof art made by his cunning fingers —flutes, kittens, houses, and above all, bis celebrated dancing men, with which 1 immediately became the bugbear of the entire household. Our place of evening rendezvous, where we exchanged our wares, was behind the goose house. The whole day 1 rejoiced in thought over the meeting with my young hero. I pictured him to myself, lying on the grass in the sunny heath playing his flute, while I labored at my detested lessons; and even stronger and more strongly did the yearning grow in me to share his good fortune of goose herding. When I told him of my feelings he laughed aloud and said: “Why don't you come with me?” That gave the decisive impetus; without further reflection I answered; "Tomorrow. I will cornel”

“But do not forget to bring something to eat with you," enjoined my friend. Luck favored me. Mademoiselle had at the right moment one of her bad headaches and postponed the lesson. Feverish with joy and anxiety, I sat at the coffee table and waited for him to come oast. Mv Dockets were stuffed with dainties of all sorts, and near me lay the switch which I hoped to-day to use in right earnest. There he came sauntering along! He blinked his eyes significantly at me while he called out his customary, “Good-morning to you;” and as soon as I could absent myself without remark I ran hastily after him. "What have you with you?” was the first question. “Two gingerbread cakes, two bread and butter sandwiches and sausage, a sardine roll and a piece of strawberrytart,” I answered, showing him my possessions. He immediately began to eat, while proudly, with ill-suppressed joy, I drove the geese before us. From the firwood, whose further half was not wholly familiar to me, we passed to unknown regions. Stunted undergrowth rose on either side, forming a straggling hedge, till suddenly the wide stretching, endless heath lay before me. Ah, how beautiful it was! As fur as the eye could reach, a sen of grass and brilliant flowers, and dotted over with wave-like rows of molehills. The hot a r wavered. It seemed to dance over the breezy heath. Summer bees made music, and the golden sun rode high in the deep blue heaven. At the wood’s edge was a swamp with a little pool in which a yellow-gray thick water glimmered. Flocks of ducks swam there; round about it the edges were so moist that great water bubbles oozed up between the grasses, and thousands of prints of the feet of the geese were to be seen, so that the whole ground was patterned over like a carpet. Here was the drove’s paradise. Here we halted, and while the geese paddled contentedly in the pool we raced about upon the heath, chasing butterflies and plucking blueberries.

Then we played at man and wife. “El»e,” the tamest goose, was our child. We had nearly kissed and knocked the poor animal out of life when it struggled away from our hands after frantic efforts. Whereon 1 prepared my husband's meal. I unried my white pinafore, laid it upon the grass f>r u tablecloth and placed on it the remains of the dainties. He sat himself gravely down before them; out of sheer joy at playing at house I watched him as he disposed of one sweet after another.

The hours passed as in a dream. Higher and higher rose the sun, and its rays burnt straight down upon us. A buzzing srund began in my head, a dull feeling of exhaustion crept over me and 1 became aware of considerable hunger; but alas, my husband had already eaten everything up. My throat was dry, my lips were fevered. In order to cool them 1 plucked the moist grasses and pressed them against my mouth. Suddenly the sounds of bells floated to us over the wood from the far distance. I knew well what it signified. It was the mid-day signal which called me to dinner. And when I should bo found to be missing— O, dear, what would become of me! I threw myself on the grass and began to sob bitterly, while my companion, with the hope of comforting me, stroked my face and neck with his rough hand. Suddenly I sprang up and raced to the woods as though lashed by the Furies. For nearly two hours I wandered, weeping, through the thicket; then Lheard a voice calling my name, and two minutes later I lav in my brother’s arms. The next morning my poor friend appeared as my instigator and accomplice before a high tribunal of his lord of the manor. It seemed to him quite natural that he should be made the scapegoat; lie made not the slightest attempt to exculpate himself from the whole blame of the escapade, and took the punishment which my brother applied with great stoicism. Then he rubbed his smarting back against the post of the veranda, and sped away out of sight, while 1 lay sobbing on the ground. From that day I loved him. I invented a thousand tricks and means in order to meet him secretly. I stole like a magpie so that he could enjoy the fruits of my thieving. 1 nearly stifled him with the excess of my tenderness, with which I sought to make amends for those terrible strokes of the riding-whip. He let my love flow over him quietly, and requited it vjith pathetic devotion and a sound appetite. A year later fate separated us. My poor mother, who had long been ail* ing, was pronounced consumptive, and ordered South by the doctors. She confided the property entirely to my brother, and traveled to the Riviera accompanied by me.

Nine years later I returned home, alone, and recovering from an attack of nervous fever. As I lay in the armchair, my gaze roved over the well-known objects, one picture after nnoth-r of the past flitted through my mind, and prominent among them came the image of my beloved fairhaired gooseherd. “What has become of him? ” I asked my brother: and received the good news that he had grown a smart, promising youth, and now helped his old father at the smithy. I felt my heart beat. I tried to reprove myself for my foolishness, but failed. The dear old memories were too strong, and I gave myself up to picturing to myself our meeting. A few days after my arrival I went out for the first time. I begged my brother to drive me through the wood, and 1 chose a mossy spot in sight of the smithy whereon to rest. My maid was with me, ana my brother left me there while he went to transact some business. I sent my maid to gather wild strawberries, and I sat down and dreamed to my heart’s content. The fir trees rus’.led above me, and from the smithy came the steady sound of the hammer. The fire of the forge burned brightly, and from time to time a dark figure passed to and fro. It must be my herd. I contentedly watched the movement of his arm, admired his strength, and trembled when the fiery sparks flew round him. When my brother returned, 1 endeavored with his help to walk to the carriage, but sank down powerless. "Hm. hm!” he said, thoughtfully. "I sent the coachman home. I thought I could put you into the carriage, but the seat is very high and I fear 1 cannot lift you alone without hurting you. Gretchen,” he continued, turning to the maid, "run to the smith, the young one, you know, and ask him to come and help me.” Therewith he threw a small coin on the ground, which the girl eagerly picked up before she ran off. 1 telt tiie blood rush up to my cheeks. I' should see him again—here, on this spot—he would act the good Samaritan for me! Pressing my hand on my heart I sat waiting till— There he is! How strong and hand-

somelio has grown! Like & young Hercules! Awkwardly he lifted his cap, which sat so becomingly on the back of his head; but I stretched out my hand smilingly, and said: “ How are you?" •• How am I? Well!” he said, with an embarrassed smile, wiping his fingess on his apron before taking my hand. • “ Help me to lift the young lady into the carriage," said my brother. He wiped his hands again, and seized me, not very gently, under the shoulders, my brother lifted my feet and the next moment I lay on the cushions in the carriage. * * Thanks, thanks,” I said, nodding and smiling at him. He stood by the carriage steps, holding his .cap in his hand, and looked at my brother and then at me with a questioning expression. There is still something in his mind, I thought to myself. How could it be otherwise? At the sight of me the old memories have awakened in him—he dees not trust himself—the past in his heart—l must help him a little. “What are you thinking about?” I asked, looking him straight in the eyes with a friendly, encouraging look. My brother, who had been busied with the horses, turned round and looked at him. "Ach, yes; you are waiting for your tip,” he said, and put his hund in his pocket. I felt as if some one had struck me with a whip. “For mercy’s sake, Max!” I stammered, turning hot and cold by turns. My brother did not hear me, and handed him—yes, he actually dared—and handed him a markpiece. I seemed to see how my friend would throw the money back in his face. I gathered all my strength and stretched out my hands to ward off the insult —but what is this? No, it is not possible; and yet, and yet, I see it with my own eyei; ho takes the coin—he says: “Thank you very much”—he bows—he goes!— And I? I look after him like an angry spectre, and then I sink back sighing among the cushions. Thus, my friend, did I take farewell of the dream of my youth. —[Independent.