The Grandmother. Божена Немцова

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 foresters and gamekeepers here below have an easy time; you don't know what hardship is." Here he began to depict the hardships of his lot. He spoke of great storms of wind and snow inthe winter time, of dangerous ​paths, of precipices, of tremendous snow drifts and fogs. He related how he had been many a time in danger of losing his life, when his foot slipped upon some precipitous path; how many times he had lost his way and wandered about for two or three days without a mouthful of anything to eat, not knowing how to find his way out of the labyrinth. "On the other hand," he added, "you dwellers in the lowlands have no idea how beautiful it is in the mountains, in the summer. As soon as the snow melts the valleys become green, the flowers burst into bloom, the woods are full of song and fragrance, and all seems as if an enchanter's wand had passed over it. Then it is a pleasure and a delight to wander about in the woods for game. Twice a week I ascend the Snowcap (Snezka), where I see the sun rise and this God's world spread out before me in a grand panorama; and forgetting all my hardships I think, after all, I would not remove from the mountains."

      Mr. Beyer often brought the children stones of various crystalline forms, and told them about the caves in the mountains where such specimens were found; he brought them moss as fragrant as violets; he loved to describe to them the beauties of Rybercol's garden, into which he had wandered once, when he was lost during a fearful snow storm.

      As long as Mr. Beyer was with them, the boys did not leave his side. They went with him to the dam, watched the floating of the logs, and took a ride upon the raft. When he was getting ready to leave, they could scarcely restrain their tears; and with Grandmother they accompanied him part of the way, helping to carry the generous luncheon ​with which Mrs. Proshek provided him. "Next year, God willing, we shall see each other again. Farewell!" Thus they parted, each wending his way homeward. For several days nothing else was spoken of but Mr. Beyer, the wonders and terrors of the Riesengebirge, and the happy time when he would come again.

      1 ↑ A small hamlet that never had a squire or justice.