Gritlis Children | Page 5

and I
should like to give them to her if she will come for them."
"Thank you; I will certainly send her. Good-night I hope you will have
good luck with the cauliflowers"; and, with another shake of his good

friend's hand, Heiri went off to the smithy.
The doctor's wife stood lost in thought for several minutes. She was
looking towards her vegetables, but she was thinking of neither beet
nor cauliflower, though her eyes were resting on the neat rows before
her. This talk with Heiri had brought the old days of her childhood
forcibly back to her memory. She saw the pretty Gritli with her big
brown eyes, as she used to sit weaving forget-me-nots into pretty
wreaths with her skilful fingers; always putting a few into her belt and
into her hair. Gritli was the child of poor parents, but she was always
neatly dressed, and, though her clothes were of the coarsest stuff, yet
there was a peculiar look of daintiness about her, which, with the bit of
color in flower or ribbon that was never wanting in her costume, gave
the impression that she had just been dressed by an artist, as a model
for a picture. Many criticised this daintiness and many laughed at it, but
it made no difference to Gritli; for indeed it was only the instinctive
expression of the girl's natural longing for the beautiful.
At eighteen, Gritli married Heiri, a good-hearted fellow who had long
loved her. But after five years of married life she died, of a rapid
consumption; leaving two children, Stefan and Elsli, four and three
years old. It was not long before Heiri found that he needed help in the
care of these little ones, and, taking the advice of friends and neighbors,
he married Marget, who was recommended to him as specially capable
of looking after his house and children. She proved indeed a good
house-keeper; but for ornaments and flowers she had no taste, and she
did not see the use of being over particular about neatness either, so
that Heiri's household soon lost the air of refinement which had been
noticeable during Gritli's life.
Marget's three children did not get by any means the nice care that Fani
and Elsli had received from their own mother, and Gritli's children
retained an air of distinction that was ineffaceable, and that marked
them as quite different from the younger set.
The memories that passed almost like a vision before the eyes of the
doctor's wife, as she stood apparently studying her kitchen-garden,
were rudely dispelled by a piercing scream that resounded from the

house; and presently an eight-year-old girl came running round the
corner, pursued by her older brother; a big lad, who held a huge volume
under his left arm, and had something tightly clutched in his right hand.
"Rikli! what a fearful noise! come here to me! what has happened
now?"
The girl screamed louder and hid her face in the skirts of her mother's
dress.
"Now, just look at the innocent cause of this ridiculous disturbance,
mother," said Fred. "Only this pretty, dear little froggy, that I caught,
and was holding out for Rikli to admire. Just let me read you this
description, and you will see how exactly it agrees with Mr. Frog
himself. Look, mamma, look!" and Fred opened his hand and showed a
small green frog.
"Stand still, and be quiet, Rikli," said her mother to the crying girl, "and,
Fred, why do you persist in showing the silly child these creatures,
when you know how much she is afraid of them?"
"She was the only person near," answered Fred. "But do listen to this,
mamma." Fred opened his book, and began to read:--
"'The green or water frog, esculenta, is about three inches in length,
grass-green, with black spots. His eyes have a golden color, and the
toes of his hind legs are webbed. His voice, which is often heard on
warm summer nights, sounds _Brekekex!_ He passes the winters
hidden in the mud and slime. He feeds upon'--"
At this moment a carriage was heard approaching. "It is the lady with
the sick child," said Mrs. Stein, putting Fred aside rather hastily, for he
tried to detain her. He followed her, crying out:--
"Do listen, mamma; you do not know what he eats. He eats--"
The carriage was at the door. Hans came from the stable, and Kathri, in
her best white apron, from the kitchen, to lift out the sick girl and carry

her into the house. Fred and Rikli stood back by the hedge, as still as
mice, watching the proceedings.
First, a lady alighted from the carriage, and beckoned to Kathri, who
came forward, lifted out the pale child, and carried her up the steps into