Johannes,
without waiting for their choice, sent them a handsome cradle, which
Freneli would not admit for a long time, maintaining it was not meant
for them.
So in some anxiety of spirit they saw the time approach when Uli was to
take over the lease, given to him chiefly through confidence in his
ability and loyalty. First, however, he was to be married to Freneli.
Since New Year's there had been talk of it; but the girl always had
excuses for delay. Now she had not had time to think it all over; now
she had just been thinking it over and had decided it was better to wait
another Sunday or two; again she said she wanted to enter on her duties
as mistress immediately after the wedding, and not still be servant; or
else the shoemaker had her Sunday shoes, and she couldn't go on wooden
soles to the pastor to announce the marriage. So passed one Sunday after
another. * * *
Then one Sunday, when the shoemaker had brought the shoes, the dear God
sent a terrible snow-storm, such that no human being could take a dozen
steps with open eyes, and a dark night, the thickest and blackest that
ever was, interposed between heaven and earth. While the storm was at
his height and snow and hail rattled against the windows and piled up a
finger's length against the frames, while the wind whistled mournfully
about the roof, darkness came in at the windows thick and gloomy, so
that the lamp could scarcely prevail against it, the cats crawled
shivering to the back of the stove, and the dog scratched at the kitchen
door and crawled under the stove with his tail between his legs, Freneli
at length said, "Now Uli, get ready and we'll go; now folks certainly
won't be watching us.
Pages:
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346