O. T., A Danish Romance | Page 8

but their clothes were whole and clean. The youngest appeared six or
seven years old; his silvery white hair formed a contrast with his brown
face, his dark eyes and long brown eyelashes. His voice sounded like
the voice of a little girl, as fine and soft, beside the voices of the others,
as the breeze of an autumnal evening beside that of rude November
weather.
"That is a handsome boy!" exclaimed the two friends at the same time.
"And a lovely melody!" added Otto.
"Yes, but they sing falsely!" answered Wilhelm: "one sings half a tone
too low, the other half a tone too high!"
"Now, thank God that I cannot hear that!" said Otto. "It sounds sweetly,
and the little one might become a singer. Poor child!" added he gravely:
"bare feet, wet to the very skin; and then the elder one will certainly
lead him to brandy drinking! Within a month, perhaps, the voice will be
gone! Then is the nightingale dead!" He quickly threw down some
skillings, wrapped in paper.
"Come up!" cried Wilhelm, and beckoned. The eldest of the boys flew
up like an arrow; Wilhelm, however, said it was the youngest who was

meant. The others remained standing before the door; the youngest
stepped in.
"Whose son art thou?" asked Wilhelm. The boy was silent, and cast
down his eyes in an embarrassed manner. "Now, don't be bashful! Thou
art of a good family--that one can see from thy appearance! Art not
thou thy mother's son? I will give thee stockings and--the deuce! here is
a pair of boots which are too small for me; if thou dost not get drowned
in them they shall be thy property: but now thou must sing." And he
seated himself at the piano-forte and struck the keys. "Now, where art
thou?" he cried, rather displeased. The little one gazed upon the ground.
"How! dost thou weep; or is it the rain which hangs in thy black
eyelashes?" said Otto, and raised his head: "we only wish to do thee a
kindness. There--thou hast another skilling from me."
The little one still remained somewhat laconic. All that they learned
was that he was named Jonas, and that his grandmother thought so
much of him.
"Here thou hast the stockings!" said Wilhelm; "and see here! a coat
with a velvet collar, a much-to-be-prized keepsake! The boots! Thou
canst certainly stick both legs into one boot! See! that is as good as
having two pairs to change about with! Let us see!"
The boy's eyes sparkled with joy; the boots he drew on, the stockings
went into his pocket, and the bundle he took under his arm.
"But thou must sing us a little song!" said Wilhelm, and the little one
commenced the old song out of the "Woman-hater," "Cupid never can
be trusted!"
The lively expression in the dark eyes, the boy himself in his wet,
wretched clothes and big boots, with the bundle under his arm; nay, the
whole had something so characteristic in it, that had it been painted,
and had the painter called the picture "Cupid on his Wanderings," every
one would have found the little god strikingly excellent, although he
were not blind.

"Something might be made of the boy and of his voice!" said Wilhelm,
when little Jonas, in a joyous mood, had left the house with the other
lads.
"The poor child!" sighed Otto. "I have fairly lost my good spirits
through all this. It seizes upon me so strangely when I see misery and
genius mated. Once there came to our estate in Jutland a man who
played the Pandean-pipes, and at the same time beat the drum and
cymbals: near him stood a little girl, and struck the triangle. I was
forced to weep over this spectacle; without understanding how it was, I
felt the misery of the poor child. I was myself yet a mere boy."
"He looked so comic in the big boots that I became quite merry, and
not grave," said Wilhelm. "Nevertheless what a pity it is that such
gentle blood, which at the first glance one perceives he is, that such a
pretty child should become a rude fellow, and his beautiful voice
change into a howl, like that with which the other tall Laban saluted us.
Who knows whether little Jonas might not become the first singer on
the Danish stage? Yes, if he received education of mind and voice, who
knows? I could really have, pleasure in attempting it, and help every
one on in the world, before I myself am rightly in the way!"
"If he is born to a beggar's estate," said Otto, "let him as beggar live
and die, and learn nothing higher. That is better, that is more to be
desired!"
Wilhelm