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[Illustration]



                          ADELBERT AND BASTEL;

                                  OR,

                        EVERY MAN IN HIS PLACE.


                           A STORY FOR BOYS.


                       TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

                      BY PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR,

                            FRANZ HOFFMANN.



                                ————————

                     PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF
            THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION
                 APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING
                          CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

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                                 LONDON:
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                                CONTENTS.
                                 ——————

CHAPTER

     I. A HAMBURG FAMILY

    II. [THE HARTZ]

   III. IN THE WIDE WORLD



                          ADELBERT AND BASTEL;

                                  OR,

                        EVERY MAN IN HIS PLACE.

                            [Illustration]


CHAPTER I.

A HAMBURG FAMILY.

DANIEL BROCKMANN was the most prosperous of the merchant-princes in
the rich commercial city of Hamburg. He possessed two magnificent
houses: one, conveniently situated near the harbour, containing the
offices where his late and widely-extended business was despatched,
the counting-house with its numerous clerks and accountants, and the
enormous warehouses, in which were stored the products of every nation
and climate; the other, quite regal in its grandeur, was an ornament
to the "Young Ladies' Walk," a promenade on the banks of the "Alster
Bassin," a kind of lake formed by an estuary of the little river
"Alster" and whose beauty and style is peculiar to the city of Hamburg.
This was his winter residence; in the summer he lived with his family
in a beautiful villa on the banks of the Elbe, half-an-hour's drive
from the town, surrounded by a magnificent garden, and commanding a
fine view of the city and the shipping in the river.

The business connection of the rich merchant extended to all the
inhabited countries of the globe. His ships sailed to every sea; his
whaling-boats brought whalebone and train-oil from the distant Polar
regions, his East India trading vessels were richly laden with spices,
costly silks, and dyes. The West Indies contributed coffee, sugar,
cocoa-nuts, tobacco and cotton. Africa sent ostrich feathers, ivory,
and valuable medicinal herbs, besides all kinds of tropical fruits,
such as dates, figs, &c., also skins, and rare wines. In short,
whatever of most costly the earth produced flowed into the warehouses
of Herr Brockmann, to be again distributed all over the world.

From this extensive business Herr Brockmann derived great riches, and
God's blessing seemed to rest upon him, doubtless because he used his
large share of this world's goods in a manner pleasing both to Heaven
and his follow-men. He was a father to the poor and needy, and his
liberal hand was always held out to assist those whose character and
circumstances rendered them worthy of help. Idlers and loiterers asked
alms of him in vain, but the widow and the orphan, honest craftsmen and
labourers, poor but industrious young people of every condition, found
him always ready with kind counsel and open purse, and the charitable
institutions of his native city looked upon him as their most liberal
benefactor, and blessed him for his good and generous heart.

As has been said, God had rewarded him on earth. As he was blessed
in his business, so also was he blessed in his home and family.
He had an excellent wife, who upheld him heartily in his care and
thoughtfulness for the poor, the sick and the needy, and his son
Adelbert, a happy-tempered, ingenuous youth of twelve or thirteen years
of age, was deservedly his pride and delight; for he, by his natural
disposition and abilities, his goodness of heart, and steadiness
of purpose, admirable even in a man, promised fair to tread in his
father's footsteps. Nevertheless, he had his little failings, tempers,
and peculiarities, from which even the best children are never entirely
free, but altogether his mind and conduct gave good foundation for the
hopes which his parents entertained of his future career.

Only one trait in Adelbert's character gave his father cause for
real anxiety, and that was a certain enthusiastic love of adventure
that showed itself on several occasions, and had its origin in his
lively imagination. He read willingly much that was interesting and
instructive, but the books he liked most of all were those in which
strange and uncommon adventures were recounted. This was not likely
to amount to a fault in itself, for the only books he was allowed to
read were most carefully selected by his parents and instructors; but
the fault was in this—when Adelbert read tales of adventure, they so
completely absorbed his senses, thoughts, and even dreams, that he, so
to speak, identified himself with the characters, and burned to pass
through their experiences.

For example, he had only the year before received from his father on
his birthday a copy of "Robinson Crusoe," and, as usual, was soon deep
in the charming book. It produced a wonderful effect on him; no tale
had ever riveted his attention and enchained his whole soul like this.
Twice, thrice did he read it, from the first page to the last, and
poor "Robinson" on the desert island, in the far distant sea, alone,
forsaken by all the world, aroused always anew his heartiest sympathy.

Thus far, all was well; but suddenly it occurred to him how charming
it would be if he himself could become a second Robinson Crusoe, and
from that moment he did not rest till he was allowed to make trial of
that kind of life. His parents at first forbade it, and represented to
him how foolish and absurd his wishes were; but Adelbert begged and
entreated so earnestly and perseveringly, that at last they yielded.

"Well, since he insists upon it," said the father to the mother, when
they were alone, "let him have his own way. At this time of year in the
height of summer, during the warm nights, no harm can befal him, and
besides, I am convinced the pleasure will not last long, and a storm of
rain will soon cool the 'Robinson Crusoe' fever."

So Adelbert received at last the much-desired permission, and went
joyfully to work to carry out his plans. A distant corner of the garden
was given up to him, and he built with his own hands a little hut of
boughs, fenced it in all round, took a pair of goats with him for
the sake of their milk, and condemned himself to spend many weeks in
loneliness, and deprived of all his accustomed comforts. A bundle of
straw and a blanket served him for couch, the milk of the goats, and
a little bread he had directed to be given him daily over the fence,
was to be his nourishment, and for amusement, he would manufacture all
the tools he could possibly want in his hermit-life. He had coloured
the whole scheme so brightly in his imagination that he did not
doubt for one moment that he should spend at least some weeks of the
greatest pleasure in this manner. But it proved the opposite of what he
anticipated, and his father had judged rightly.

Adelbert, accustomed to his comfortable bed, with its soft mattress,
spent a wretched night on his miserable couch of straw. The next
morning the goats would not allow him to milk them, as he did not
know how to set about it properly; so, for that day he was obliged
to be content with bread and water for his food, and the following
night, to complete his discomfiture, there came a heavy shower of
rain, completely drenching everything. The wet penetrated through his
loosely-constructed hut, and the blanket afforded but very slight
protection. Before midnight he was wet to the skin, and his bed was
soaking. He went out and looked at the sky, but not one little star
twinkled encouragingly at him, only the rain-drops pattered faster and
faster on the loaves of the trees.

"This is miserable," said he to himself; "I do not think the rain means
to stop, and I find after all it is better to read 'Robinson Crusoe'
than to act it. What folly it is! I will go home."

And so, without more ado, he left his romantic dwelling, broke down the
carefully erected fence unceremoniously, and ran back to the house.

Dripping with wet, and rather shamefaced, he went in, and was received
laughingly by his parents, who had expected this conclusion to the
adventure. A slight cold was the only penalty, but Adelbert was cured
for good and all of the "Robinson Crusoe" fever.


But other fevers attacked him from time to time, and one day they took
a sea-going turn, because his imagination had been excited by some
adventures at sea he had read. He could not rest, and begged so long
that at last his father made a short voyage with him to Heligoland.

"If only a storm would come," thought Adelbert, as the steamer sped
through the water off Cuxhaven, "how pleasant that would be, father;
there is no fun in a sea voyage when it is so smooth."

"I expect you would not think it any joke, if your wish for a storm
were fulfilled," answered his father drily. "The description of a storm
at sea may be very fine to read at home in a comfortable room, but to
experience one in reality is a very different thing, therefore I am
thankful for a favourable wind and smooth water."

"But, my dear father," answered Adelbert pouting, "such a voyage is no
better than a row in a pleasure-boat on the 'Alster Bassin.' No, no.
I long for a storm which comes rushing over the surging waters, and
roars through the shrouds, whilst wave after wave flings itself on the
deck, and the ship shivers and trembles like a living thing, rising one
minute high on a mountainous billow, to be cast the next moment into
the deepest abyss of the ocean. Such a storm would be my delight, and
undismayed I would take my stand by this mast."

"Well, my boy, I only hope your heroism will not be put to the proof,"
said his father.

"It is very likely to be the case though, sir," said the captain of the
steamer, who standing near had been an amused but good-natured listener
to the conversation. "Yes, Herr Brockmann, it is not unlikely that the
young gentleman will soon have a taste of a real 'nor'-wester;' the
clouds are coming up fast."

"But will there be any danger?" asked Herr Brockmann rather anxiously.

"Oh no, sir, none at all," answered the captain, "only a little squall,
it will be all over in an hour. You can be quite satisfied of that, and
the young gentleman may safely stay on deck, if he likes to see the
fun."

"Oh that is glorious," cried Adelbert joyfully; "how delighted I am, if
it will only get really rough, so that we may dance over the water."

"Well, I reckon we shall have dancing enough to please you, young
gentleman," said the captain with a cunning twinkle of the eye; "hold
fast by this mast till it is over, and then you will have something to
tell mamma when you get home." And laughing slily, the captain turned
away to give orders to prepare for the coming storm.

And in the meantime, Adelbert took up his position by the mast, and
watched with eager looks the approaching gale.

"See, father, how grand, how beautiful it is!" said he with sparkling
eyes. "See that heavy cloud sweeping over the sea, like a great, dark
bird with outspread wings; it is a glorious sight."

"Not badly described," said his father, a little ironically; "but I had
rather the great, dark bird flew away from us, with its outspread wings
instead of coming over us. Here it comes, then; and I expect you will
soon be of my opinion."

"Oh no, father, I would not for worlds have missed this grand sight,"
cried Adelbert, throwing up his head proudly. "Yes, here is the storm!
Here come the foam-crested waves! What a magnificent sight! Can
anything be more beautiful than—"

At this moment, one of the swollen waves reached the ship, pitched her
somewhat roughly on her side, and flung itself in showers of glistening
spray over the deck. The sudden shock came as unexpectedly to our
little friend as did the salt water; his knees gave way under him, he
staggered and would have fallen, if his father had not held him up with
his strong arm. Adelbert appeared rather disconcerted as he clung in
alarm to his father with both hands, the words died on his lips, and it
was some little time before he recovered his presence of mind.

"Oh!" cried he as soon as he could speak. "That took me by surprise, I
was not thinking of it; but never mind, when it comes again, I shall be
better prepared, and I will stand as firm as if I were rooted to the
spot."

"So much the better," said his father, "I am only curious to see how
firmly the roots will hold."

"As firmly as those of an oak," answered Adelbert boastingly, as he
clung to the ropes on the mast, "neither storm nor waves shall move me
from this spot."

His father shrugged his shoulders as he thought to himself, "We shall
see."

And the storm came rushing nearer and nearer on the wings of the wind.

The first wave that had caused Adelbert's giddiness was only the
forerunner of what was to come; and now the storm broke over them with
rain, flashing lightning, and rolling thunder. Adelbert, drenched
through as he was by rain and spray, stood firm, the vivid lightning
and loud thunder did not frighten him, and even the heavy rolling and
pitching of the vessel did not seem to affect him, as he stood holding
with both hands to the rigging. He joked and laughed aloud in the midst
of the storm and beating rain, his long fair hair streamed on the wind,
his cheeks glowed with excitement, and his eyes sparkled with pleasure
and enjoyment, when suddenly in the midst of his joy, he became silent,
the colour left his cheeks, his eyes were no longer bright, and he
looked most truly wretched.

"What is the matter?" asked his father anxiously, as he took him in his
arms.

"Oh dear!" groaned Adelbert. "All at once, I have become so sick and
ill. I cannot think what it is. Oh dear, I shall die, I know I shall, I
am so bad."

"Oho! As bad as that, is it?" cried the captain, who was standing near,
with a short laugh. "It is only a slight attack of sea-sickness you
have, young gentleman. How now? Don't the storm and the raging waves
please you any longer? Ah, I expected as much; but cheer up, when the
storm is over, the sickness will go off."

All pleasure in the beauties of the storm was past, and Adelbert
thanked Heaven when, after two hours of suffering, he once more stood
on "terra-firma," and felt the red cliffs of Heligoland under his feet.

For some time he had had enough of the sea, and although afterwards, he
often made short voyages with his father, he never again wished, as at
first, for hurricanes or gales. A pleasure trip in his little boat on
the smooth and mirror-like Alster Bassin, seemed to him for many weeks
to be far the best. There he need not fear the dreadful sea-sickness,
which for weeks he never remembered without a shudder.


A month or two after the voyage to Heligoland, a book fell into
Adelbert's hands, which soon kindled fresh desires in his breast. It
was the description of a journey in the "Hartz" mountains, and by the
time he had read it through two or three times, he could think of
nothing but deep shady valleys, of wildly-cleft, rugged, and boldly
projecting masses of rock, of rushing mountain torrents, magnificent
forest glades, the lonely huts of the charcoal-burners and the woodmen,
stately stags, and timid little roe-deer, dark caves in the mountain
sides, and deep subterranean mines and shafts where the poor hill-men,
in the sweat of their brow, brought costly metals to the light of day,
and gathered the treasure they would never share.

"Oh, mother," said he for the hundredth time, "if I could only go
there. To climb over mountain and valley, to ramble through the forest
and listen to the murmuring of the brooks, and to go down deep into the
bowels of the earth,—what pleasure it would be! I shall die of longing,
if I do not behold all these wonders and beauties."

"People don't die so easily, foolish child," said his mother, smiling.
"Besides, it is too late to undertake a journey to the 'Hartz' this
year. In October it is cold in the mountains, and you would soon be
wishing to leave the damp valleys and misty dales, and return home.
Have patience till next spring, and then we will talk more about it,
and perhaps, if you are good and diligent all the winter, it will give
your father pleasure to grant your request, you know how kind he is."

It seemed a very long time till the spring, but Adelbert saw plainly
that he must wait till then, for the next few days brought cold storms
of rain and wind, making it anything but inviting for travelling. So he
nourished and fed his longing to the utmost, reading eagerly all that
he possibly could about the "Hartz," their beauties and peculiarities.

When, then, at last the spring really came, and clothed the trees once
more with fresh green leaves, when winds breathed soft, and a cloudless
blue sky smiled on the flower-covered fields, then Adelbert rested no
longer.

"Mother, spring is here," said he; "do you remember what you promised
me last autumn? How lovely and beautiful it must be now in the hills
and valleys of the Hartz!"

"Patience, patience," said his mother, with a smile, "your birthday
comes next week, who knows what may happen then?"

Adelbert was radiant with hope, his mother's words filled his heart
with the sweetest expectations, and more eagerly than ever he read his
books about the "Hartz" mountains, and dreamt of nothing else day or
night.

"Yes, if I were only a charcoal-burner," thought he to himself,—"a
charcoal-burner in the midst of the deepest forests, where he reigns
supreme! What things he must see and experience, as he builds up the
wood in his kiln, and kindling it, watches carefully lest it break
into a blaze! The shy beasts of the forest approach him without fear,
for he does not pursue nor kill them like the hunter. Oh, if I were
but a charcoal-burner! I would build a hut of green boughs under the
shade and shelter of a wide-spreading oak or beech; I would tame the
stags and roe-deer, I would entice the pretty little birds that sing so
beautifully, and strew food in abundance for them, till they became so
tame that they would perch on my hand or my shoulder.

"Then in the evening, I would listen to tales and stories from the
other charcoal-burners, mountaineers, and huntsmen who might by chance
come to visit me in my lonely dwelling. They would like to come to see
me, for I should be very kind to them, my father is rich, and would
let me want for nothing, and I would willingly share everything with
them, only to hear their beautiful stories of the 'Wild Huntsman,'
of the 'Giant Maiden,' of the 'Princess Ilsa,' the spectre huntsman
'Hakelberg,' too, and the spirit of the woods that flew before his
ghostly band, as they rushed through the forest to the sound of horn
and 'halloo.'

"People who live deep in the woods know ten times as many suchlike
tales as are to be found in books; besides, how much better they must
sound there in the depths of the wilderness, or the fastnesses of the
mountains, in the very spots where they have happened, and where,
perhaps, behind the next bush sits hidden an inquisitive hobgoblin,
listening, and grinning with delight over the mischievous tricks
that he or his brothers had played. Yes, that must be splendid; and
who knows? If my father does not forbid it, I may perhaps become a
charcoal-burner, and live free and happy in the beautiful loneliness of
the forest."

At the same time, Adelbert seemed not only to have thought about it,
but actually to have formed his plans and made arrangements in his own
mind. However, he did not betray himself by a single word, but waited
with the greatest impatience for his birthday, when he was to see, the
fulfilment of all his most cherished and secret wishes.

At length the day came; the 10th of June smiled softly and sunnily on
the bright blossoms that gemmed the earth, and Adelbert stood beaming
with delight before the table, where, surrounded by flowers, the loving
care of his tender parents had spread a variety of handsome presents.
He was pleased with all of them, but rejoiced most over a complete suit
of travelling clothes, with every convenience for a journey, a walking
stick, a satchel to hang over the shoulder, a case containing brushes,
combs, and suchlike necessaries, an elegant little knapsack, and an
excellent telescope, a thing no traveller in the mountains should be
without. Everything was placed together in order, and, above all, a
large card with the words, "For the journey in the Hartz."

Adelbert was overjoyed; if he had been presented with a kingdom, he
could not have felt happier than he did with his birthday present,
fulfilling as it did his most ardent wishes. He threw himself into his
parents' arms, and thanked them with the tenderest words and caresses.



CHAPTER II.

[THE HARTZ.]

EARLY on the following morning, Herr Brockmann, his wife, and Adelbert,
with the servants who accompanied their master and mistress, were
seated in a comfortable travelling carriage, and driving towards the
long wished-for mountains. It was decided that they should spend a
month or six weeks in the "Hartz," in order that they might thoroughly
enjoy all their wonders and beauties. The weather was glorious, the
air deliciously mild and balmy, and there was every sign of a long
continuance of sunshine and blue sky.

Adelbert would have pressed forward without rest or pause; the large
towns they passed on the journey had not the slightest attraction
for him, and he would hardly vouchsafe them even the most passing
attention. What interest had they for him, who had just come from
Hamburg, that peerless city, with which, in his opinion, no other could
compete? His heart was in the hills and vales of the "Hartz," in the
babbling brooks and murmuring tree-tops, and when he first caught sight
of the blue misty outline of the "Brocken" in the distance, he cried
aloud with excitement, stretched out his arms longingly towards it, and
sighed for wings that he might plunge at once into all its delights.

He was nearly beside himself when, in the dewy freshness of morning, he
saw for the first time one of the loveliest valleys of the "Hartz," the
"Selkethal," and beheld in reality that which till now had only been
presented to his imagination in shadowy pictures and shapeless outline!
Here was the brook that leapt, splashing like living crystal over
the many-coloured pebbles in its bed. Here, right and left, rose the
mountains clothed with thick forest, whose foliage was beautiful with
the green freshness of spring. Here the meadows with their countless
gay flowers gave forth the most delicious scent, their stems and leaves
glittering with dewdrops, sparkling like diamonds in the centres of
the little delicate blossoms. A soft, blue haze hung over the distant
hills, while from the cool shade of the surrounding trees up rose
the clear voices of the winged songsters of the forest; the whistle
of the blackbird, and the sweet notes of the goldfinch and linnet
sounded joyfully on the air, and the nightingale sat in the thick alder
bush and told her tale of love and sorrow in deep and heart-stirring
harmony, while at intervals the call of the cuckoo rang out clearly,
far and wide over the mountain side.

Adelbert could no longer bear the restraint of the carriage; he sprang
out, his parents followed, and the carriage came after at a distance.
It was truly beautiful now that the noise of wheels no longer disturbed
them. Adelbert listened and gazed in a perfect transport of delight,
and often he stood still that sight and hearing might enjoy to the
utmost the surrounding beauties. More softly murmured the brook, fuller
and more joyfully rang the songs of the birds, and—but what is that? A
distant sound of bells fell on the ear, becoming deeper and clearer as
they approached, now here, now there, sounding fairy-like out of the
dark pine-woods far upon the mountain side, out of the little valley
below, and sometimes from the thick underwood close by the wayside.

"What is that?" asked Adelbert in hushed voice, as though spell-bound
by the enchanting tones. "Can it be earthly music? Only listen, father!
Listen, mother! What is it?"

His parents listened, entranced, to the unaccustomed sounds which rang
out of the thicket, now clearer and louder, now scarcely heard, but
always lovely, pure and harmonious. Presently a dog barked, and the
powerful voice of a man was heard calling to it; the bells were quite
close, and see! Out of the underwood in all directions came a numerous
herd of sleek cattle; they gazed for a moment with their large, soft
eyes at the strangers, and then leisurely bowed their gentle heads to
crop the sweet, luxuriant grass, growing on the banks of the rivulet.

"A herd! A herd of cows with bells on leathern belts round their
necks!" cried Adelbert. "Look, father! I never thought they could have
sounded so wonderfully sweet and soft."

They listened to them for some time, till the herd had passed on deeper
into the forest, and the music of the bells had melted into the softest
tinkling, and then they resumed their wanderings in the blooming
meadow, along the side of the brook, by a lonely mill, whose loud
clatter awoke the echoes, and the great mill-wheel as it swung round,
threw off the drops of water like myriads of diamonds.

Presently, on reaching the top of a little ascent in the path, where
the valley, narrow till now, opened out on each side, Adelbert came
suddenly to a standstill, gave a cry of surprise and admiration, and
pointed with upraised hand to the distant heights.

"Oh father! Mother! Look yonder! How magnificent!" cried he.

And beautiful indeed was the scene that met their sight. On the top of
steep slopes, clothed with thick underwood, out of which peeped here
and there, rugged masses of bright red rock, there arose a stately
castle, with high commending towers, on whose gilded vanes the sunbeams
gleamed like stars. Nobly and proudly the grand old walls looked down
from their height into the narrow green valley, shut in by rocks and
hills. In the distance was the rushing mill-stream, in the surrounding
bushes the birds sang with the greatest joyfulness, large butterflies
of the most gorgeous colours fluttered gaily from flower to flower, and
high in the air far above even the proudly raised castle-keep, floated
a lordly eagle on apparently motionless wing soaring in its measured
and circular flight.

"Father, what a splendid scene!" cried Adelbert, after a pause of
silent admiration. "Now you will never laugh at me, and call me a
foolish, imaginative dreamer again, because I longed for the 'Hartz'
mountains. Could anything be more delicious than to live here, seeing
each day some new beauty of nature, and breathing continually the pure
mountain air?"

"Certainly," said his father, "it is good to gaze on beauties so
refreshing to the sight and enlarging to the mind; but to dream away
one's life in a valley like this, far from all the world, however
beautiful it may be, would in time become very tedious. Besides, in
the winter these mountains are covered with cold, dreary snowdrifts,
instead of fresh verdure, as now. No, my child, there is a time for
everything; besides, life has its claims, and it is not the beauties of
nature, but a well-regulated industry, that can make one happy after
all."

"For example, if I could be a huntsman or a charcoal-burner," said
Adelbert, "should I not have all that could satisfy me at once? Hard
work and lovely nature would go hand in hand, and each would increase
the pleasures of the other."

"Very true," answered his father, "if you had been born and bred in
these forests, such a life might satisfy you, but you have grown
up with perfectly different surroundings, and in quite different
circumstances; and I think every one ought to seek to fill well the
situation in which it has pleased God to place him. Accustomed to a
large busy town and many comforts, which you could not fail to miss
were you deprived of them, you would soon find a lonely, toilsome life
in the forest become very irksome, and you would long again for home
and all its luxuries. 'Every man in his place,' dear Adelbert, and your
calling seems to me to be, following in my footsteps, and carrying
on my business in the distant countries of the globe. The life of a
charcoal-burner would hardly do for you."

"Perhaps not," said Adelbert thoughtfully, "but I should like to try
it, nevertheless."

"And it would be the same thing over again as your trial of Robinson
Crusoe's life," said his mother laughing, as Herr Brockmann elevated
his eyebrows, and made no answer. "Your father is right, every
one should be content with his lot. The calling of a huntsman or
charcoal-burner is as honourable as any other, but one should be born
to it. Providence has placed you in quite another position."

Adelbert listened in silence, but was not convinced, and the next
moment was dreaming again of a forest life, and thinking it the finest
in the world.

The impressions he received from the journey in the "Hartz" did not
change his opinion, but only strengthened it. Favoured by the beautiful
weather, the wildly romantic valleys, the distant views of the hills
and open plains, appeared doubly charming, and his whole soul was
filled with admiration at the wonders nature displayed.

After wandering about for a fortnight, it was determined to stay some
weeks in the charming little town of Ilsenburg, and to make numerous
excursions from thence into the country round, as Madame Brockmann was
tired, and required rest and repose.

Here, then, Adelbert had the opportunity of revelling to the utmost in
nature and its beauties, for the green boughs of the forest nodded to
him quite close to the windows, and seemed often to beckon to him to
come to their green bowers, and refresh himself in their cool shade.
The bright little river "Ilse," with its clear crystal waters, leaped
over the smooth pebbles close by the house, and its murmuring and
babbling sounded in his ears like seductive voices whispering,—

"Come, child, come, and revel in my loveliness, stroll along my banks,
and see how beautiful they are, and how joyful and frolicsome I am.
Where the proud oak rears its head, and the beech spreads its broad
branches, where the bold rocks rise rugged and bare, and the little
brooks run purling down the mountain side, where the birds sing
sweetest, and the flowers bloom brightest, there is my home; and there
I leap and skip in joyful dance like a playful, happy child; and there
you will be happy too, as you never can be in the great, wide world
outside."

So the "Ilse" seemed to plead, and Adelbert listened only too willingly
to the fascinating voice.

"Only wait," he whispered to the murmuring rivulet, "I will come and
enjoy all the delights of your kingdom; yes, yes, I will come and
wander by your side to where the bold rocks jut forth, and the proud
oaks rear their heads, and perhaps even farther, till I find what I
long for; only wait, and I will surely come."


And one morning, when he had risen with the sun which shone clear
and bright out of the blue heavens, he could no longer resist the
temptation, and came to the determination to penetrate at once into the
depths of the forest. He dressed himself very quietly, so as not to
awaken his parents, who slept in the adjoining room, took his walking
stick, hung his satchel over his shoulder, put his straw hat on his
head, ran lightly downstairs, across the court-yard, and out at the
back door, telling them in the house to say, if his parents inquired
for him, that he had gone a little way into the forest, and they were
not to be anxious about him, for he should be back by the middle of the
day.

Perhaps he really intended to be back by noon; more probably, however,
he had not thought about it. All he cared for was to breathe the fresh
mountain air, and drink his fill of the soft breezes. So he wandered
onwards along the banks of the murmuring Ilse, as it leapt from rock to
rock in its headlong course, and onwards under the shade of the grand
old forest trees, which spread their green roof over his head.

The dewy breath of the morning refreshed and strengthened him, the
flowers smiled at him, the green bushes on the banks whispered soft
morning greetings to him, and the little birds looked at him with clear
and friendly eyes, and sang "Welcome, welcome!"

An elegant little roe-deer sprang from its covert in front of him,
and seeing him, was continuing its graceful flight; but as he stood
quite still, it lingered, turned its head towards him, and gazed at
him with its soft, liquid eyes. It seemed to know by instinct that it
had nothing to fear from the bright, smart little boy. Very closely
it examined him; the clean white trousers, the light blue frock with
the snowy shirt collar over it, the straw hat with its gay-coloured
band, and the round, rosy face underneath, with the fresh, red lips
and cheeks, the large, soft blue eyes and white brow, shaded by golden
curls, appeared to please the little animal. For a minute or more it
remained in the same place, till at last Adelbert plucked a green
branch from the nearest bush, and held it invitingly towards it. Then
the deer turned away, lifted its delicate, slender little foot, and
stepped slowly into the thick underwood; Adelbert followed, but that
it did not approve of. One other look it gave the boy, then with
two bounds it cleared the nearest bushes, and the next moment had
disappeared.

"What a pity!" murmured Adelbert. "I would not have hurt the pretty
little animal."

As he went farther and farther into the forest, the more beautiful it
became. He really was in the midst of the woods now, as much so as even
he could wish. High and steep were the mountain sides, high towered
the trunks of the oaks and the beeches, and their stately heads waved
in the breath of the morning breeze. The Ilse skipped joyfully along,
and sprang headlong from rock to rock, bustling and foaming in mere
wanton sport. All around was still and lonely, no voices were heard but
those of nature; the world, with all its noise, and busy, never-resting
crowds seemed to lie far away, miles and miles beyond the hills. None
of its clamour penetrated into this solemn loneliness to disturb the
delicious calm.

Adelbert, as he went on, was never tired of gazing, listening, and
dreaming, and inhaling the fresh mountain breezes. Sometimes he
stood still and listened to the song of a bird, to the tapping of a
woodpecker on the trunk of a tree, to the rushing of a waterfall, or
to the sound of a woodman's axe, echoing from afar through the forest
glades.

"Perhaps that is a charcoal-burner, felling the trees far his kiln.
How nice if I could discover him, and talk to him, and get him to tell
me about his life in the beautiful wilderness! And why should I not
try to find him?" continued he to himself. "The morning is not very
far gone yet, I can tell by the shadows on the mountains. I must leave
the little river, certainly, but I cannot help that. I shall soon
find my way back to it, and then I can go home; and if not? Why, the
charcoal-burner will show me the way, there is nothing to fear."

No sooner said than done. He listened intently for the blows of the
axe, turned away from the course of the river, and penetrated into
the wood in the direction of the sound. The blows sounded louder and
louder, but the woodman must have been farther off than he imagined.
Uphill and downhill he went, climbing and clambering, now down into a
deep dell, over rolling stones which gave way under his feet and came
rattling and clattering after him, now up a steep bank that he climbed
with difficulty, often on his hands and knees, slipping and sliding,
clinging to roots and shrubs, sometimes in danger of falling back again
to the bottom. However, he did not mind this much, for he was strong
and active, a very fair climber, and possessed a steady head.

Bravely he pushed on towards the sound of the axe, and was confident
he must at last reach the spot where the woodman toiled in the lonely
wilderness. All at once, a rapid mountain stream too wide for him to
leap across, stopped him. He hesitated; should he go back? No; the way
back seemed long and tiresome; besides, he began to feel rather tired,
as well as hungry and thirsty. His thirst he was able to quench, for
there was no lack of water in the brook, and it was as fresh and clear
as liquid crystal. He stooped, took up the water in the hollow of his
hand, and quaffed the refreshing draught; thirst was allayed, but then
he was hungry too. He found a few berries on the bushes, but they did
not serve to appease his appetite.

"Ah, well," thought he, "I must wade through the brook, and invite
myself as guest to the charcoal-burner; even if I do get a little wet,
it will soon dry in this warm sunny weather."

After searching a short time, he came to where several large stones
seemed to lie smoothly under the water, and made the landing easier
on the opposite bank. He sprang boldly from one to the other, and
congratulated himself that the water hardly reached to his ankles;
only one more spring to make and he would be over. He made it and—fell
full length in the brook. His foot had slipped in springing, and the
cold mountain torrent rushed pitilessly over him. Fortunately, it was
not very deep, or the bottom very stony; so with a single effort, he
regained his feet, and waded the rest of the distance to the opposite
shore, and there he was on the other side at last, but wet through to
the skin, with the water running from him in streams.

"That was an unwelcome bath," grumbled he; "I should not have thought
the water could have been so cold. But what does it matter? A quick run
will warm me, and I will spread my clothes at the charcoal-kiln: that
will soon dry them."

He shook himself like a dog, climbed up a bank, over the top of which
the sound of the axe seemed to come, and stood on the top for some
moments; suddenly the blows ceased.

"The man is having his breakfast; I will look for him, he cannot be
much farther off now," said Adelbert to himself.

So he went fearlessly in the direction whence, a few moments before,
the sounds of the blows proceeded. He pushed hastily through bushes and
shrubs, till, after nearly a quarter of an hour's scrambling, he was
stopped by a thicket of brambles extending right and left, as far as he
could see between the trees.

"How stupid!" said he. "But it can't be helped, I must go through, or I
shall get too far out of the way."

He made an attempt to do so, but was soon obliged to desist; the hard,
sharp thorns scratched his face and hands, and tore his clothes, and,
before he had taken ten steps, his nice white trousers were completely
spoiled, and his blouse was full of three-cornered holes.

"This won't do," murmured he, "I must try another way. If I only go
a short distance round, I shall still come to the charcoal-burner at
last."

He turned wearily away from the thorny bushes, went quickly a little
way along the edge of the thicket, and came at last to a place where
it seemed less dense, so that he could get through without further
damage to his clothes or his own skin. In a short time, he left the
disagreeable place behind, and turned once more in the direction in
which he expected to find the woodman.

He could see nothing but forest everywhere—nothing but the trunks of
countless trees, whose branches formed the most glorious leafy canopy.
This was doubtless very fine, but Adelbert thought it would not be
amiss if he could come across the woodman's hut. Where could the man
have hidden himself? He must surely be close by, only he could not see
him, because of the thick shrubs and bushes. He stood still and called
as loud as he could, "Woodman! Woodman! Where are you?"

"Where are you?" answered a clear voice.

Adelbert pricked up his ears, but it was only his own voice that the
echo caught up provokingly. He called again louder than before, and
then listened, but no voice, save that of the echo, gave him answer. He
now began to lose heart a little. Suppose he had missed the right path
and had passed the cottage in the thick forest? Where should he look
for it now? Whichever way he took might only lead him farther wrong.
Should he turn back for good and all, and try to reach the Ilse once
more? That would perhaps be the most prudent thing to do; but he did
not relish the idea at all, for the way was long and disagreeable, he
was very hungry, and by the time he had found the river and reached
Ilsenburg, he should be starving. He had only to go forward, and by
good luck he should find the woodman's cottage, or if not, he should at
any rate get out of the forest and find inhabitants; there he could get
help, for fortunately he was not without money, as, just before he went
out, he had put his purse, containing some silver, into his pocket.

So he went on, and about a hundred paces farther on came to a clearing,
and looked down into a lovely green valley, through which ran a little
brook. Under a shady group of trees Adelbert could see the roof of a
cottage, and still farther off, behind a slight projection of the hill,
there ascended a blue smoke, rising like a thin veil over the mountain
side. Adelbert was so glad; there were then inhabitants in the valley
below, and he was saved! He ran quickly down the hill, found a narrow
footpath, and following it, arrived at the cottage he had seen from
above.

On entering, he found it empty, though with evident marks of
habitation, for there was a fire on the hearth, over which a large pot
was boiling. Parlour, bedroom, kitchen—all stood open, and Adelbert
could walk through them.

"The birds are flown," said he, "but they cannot be far-off, some one
must come soon to look after the pot on the fire; I will wait."

As he felt tired, he sat himself down on a wooden stool in the little
parlour, and rested for a few minutes, and then becoming impatient, he
went to the door and sent a loud "Halloa!" down the valley.

The "Halloo!" was returned, but this time it was not his own voice, but
a strange one, deep and powerful, that answered him.

He went in the direction of the call, round the end of the projection
he had noticed from above, and came out upon a large flat space, in the
centre of which was a burning hill; it was a large kiln, as Adelbert
knew at the first glance, and near it was working a tall strong man,
with smoke-begrimed face and thick matted hair and beard, who handled
the heavy iron shovel as though it were a hazel-wand.

[Illustration]

"Who have we here?" cried he to Adelbert, in a friendly tone. "How came
you here in the midst of the forest?"

"I have lost myself, Mr. Charcoal-burner," said Adelbert boldly, for
he felt no fear, but only joy at the sight of the man, in spite of his
strange and wild appearance.

He had read, that though the charcoal-burners were somewhat rough and
uncivilized, yet on the whole they were honest and good people; so he
went straight up to the man, and held out his hand to him, saying,—

"Good day to you, Mr. Charcoal-burner, I am very glad to see you, for I
have been wandering about in the forest ever since five or six o'clock
this morning, I have eaten nothing but a few berries, and now I am
hungry."

"Well, who would have thought it?" said the charcoal-burner, looking
at Adelbert with eyes that glanced sharply and brightly out of his
weather-beaten face. "But you must wait a little while till my old
woman is ready with the victuals; it won't be long, it is noon now. Sit
down the while on yonder bank under the trees."

Adelbert took the hint and stretched himself comfortably on the soft
mossy slope.

"What place is this, good man?" asked he.

"The 'Wolf's Hill' in the Ranschethal," said he. "Presently you must
tell me how you got here, but don't bother me with your chatter now; I
must mind the kiln, or the flames will break out; afterwards we will
have a talk."

The man's voice sounded rough and rude, and his harsh words rather
frightened Adelbert, so he sat still and watched the charcoal-burner,
who went round and round the kiln, occupied sometimes in one place,
sometimes in another.

Nothing further was said for about half-an-hour, when a clear voice
from the cottage above called out, "Severin, Severin! Dinner is ready!"

"Very well, old woman," cried the man in answer, "I'm coming directly."
Then turning towards the forest, he called loudly, "Hans!"

"Halloa, master!" came back the answer.

And after a pause, there was a sound of quick heavy footsteps, and a
man came out of the nearest bushes, who was nearly as tall and strong
as Severin himself, and quite as rough and smoke-begrimed.

"Go to dinner, Hans," said his master, "and when you have done, come
here and look to the kiln; in an hour or two the charcoal will be
ready, and you must mind it till then."

"All right, master," answered the man, who was the servant or assistant
of the charcoal-burner, as he walked away with the same heavy but quick
step.

"You may go with him and dine, if you can't wait," said Severin to
Adelbert.

"No, I will wait and go with you, sir."

"All right, as you like; but don't say 'sir' to me, we are not
accustomed to that sort of thing in the forest,—do you hear?"

Without waiting for Adelbert's reply, he took up his iron shovel and
went once more to attend to the kiln. Wherever the vapour and smoke
threatened to break out, there he was instantly and cleverly at work,
and proved himself perfect master of his business, whilst Adelbert
watched his movements with such interest, that he forgot hunger,
fatigue, and everything else.

After about a quarter of an hour Hans reappeared, and Severin handed
him the iron shovel saying, shortly, "Watch carefully that nothing
happens." And turning to Adelbert said, "Come along, youngster, now we
will go to dinner."

Adelbert sprang up, took without ceremony the black hard hand of the
charcoal-burner, and walked by his side to the cottage. The man smiled
good-humouredly, for the boy's bold, confident manner seemed to please
him.

"My gracious, Severin, who have you got there?" cried a woman, who was
standing at the door of the cottage, as they approached.

"You can see for yourself, old woman; it is a boy," replied the man,
"he lost himself in the forest, is very hungry, and would like some
dinner. I suppose there is enough for us and Bastel too?"

"Oh dear, yes! Even if I go without myself," said the woman
good-naturedly, as she looked curiously at Adelbert; "but perhaps
the young gentleman won't relish our fare, he seems to belong to
gentlefolks, and is accustomed to better than he will find here."

"Never fear, old woman," said Severin, "the boy is hungry, and hunger
is the best sauce, only be quick and give us what you have. Is Bastel
here?"

"Yes, he has just returned from the forest, and has brought a beautiful
trout with him of nearly two pounds weight; I will soon cook it for the
young gentleman; but won't Bastel stare when he sees the grand visitor!
Here, Bastel, Bastel! Just come here a minute, quick!"

"Yes, mother," called he from the inside of the cottage, "here I am,
what do you want?"

"Why, just look; we have got a visitor, a real little gentleman," said
the mother; "now mind you are civil to him."

"Oh yes, that I will," said Bastel, as he and Adelbert looked curiously
at one another.

Bastel was a fine-looking lad about the same age as Adelbert, perhaps
a little older, but far taller and stronger. Light-brown curly hair
fell on his shoulders, his face was deeply tanned by the air and sun,
his blue eyes sparkled as bright and clear as those of a hawk, the
expression of his features was honest and open. His dress was the
simplest imaginable,—a coarse shirt, jacket, and trousers of strong
homespun linen with a cap of the same material,—was all he wore; shoes
and stockings he had none. Still the boy looked nice enough, for his
dress, though simple, was perfectly neat and clean, and the white shirt
collar set off the sensible brown face to advantage.

"What is your name?" demanded Bastel, when the two boys had had a good
look at each other.

"My name is Adelbert,— Adelbert Brockmann, of Hamburg."

"Of Hamburg! Why, that is a long way from here?"

"Yes, forty or fifty miles."

"And how is it you are so torn and scratched?" said Bastel, laughing.
"There is hardly a whole place in your nice clothes; what have you been
doing?"

"I fell into the brook, and got stuck in the brambles," answered
Adelbert rather irritably, "that might happen to anyone; and besides, I
do not come from Hamburg to-day, but only from Ilsenburg."

"Ah, yes, and got lost in the woods," said Bastel rather scornfully,
"that often happens to city children, but never to me. I can always
find my way, however far I wander; but of course that is because I
was brought up in the woods. Now don't vex any more at having lost
yourself, I will soon show you the way back to Ilsenburg, that will be
fun for me."

"Come to dinner, lads, come to dinner," shouted the powerful voice of
the charcoal-burner from the cottage, into which he had gone, leaving
the boys to themselves.

"Come along," said Bastel, seizing Adelbert without ceremony by the
arm, and leading him into the parlour to the table, which was covered
with a clean coarse cloth, on which stood a large earthenware dish of
dumplings, and another dish of stewed bilberries.

For Adelbert were placed a plate, knife and fork, and a bright tin
spoon; Bastel and his father had only the last-named article, and ate
out of the dish.

"It is quicker, and tastes just as good," said the charcoal-burner, as
he remarked the astonishment in Adelbert's face. "Plates are scarce in
the forest, and the potter lives along way off; but take what you want
and never mind us, we shall get on very well without plates."

Adelbert did not need a second invitation, for the dumplings and
bilberries looked delicious. He attacked the dishes bravely, and did
not leave off till he had disposed of three of the largest dumplings,
and a corresponding quantity of bilberries. After that, he ate a good
slice of the pretty spotted trout, which the good woman served up most
invitingly for him, and then he felt satisfied.

"How nice that was!" said he. "Many thanks, good people, for all
your kindness. I have never tasted such a delicious trout as that at
Ilsenburg."

"Just so," said the charcoal-burner, laughing good-naturedly. "Do you
hear, old woman? I said hunger was the best sauce. Well, now, you must
tell me, my boy, how you got here. What are you doing at Ilsenburg?"

"We are staying there, my parents and I, for a few weeks, because it is
such a beautiful place."

"Oh, so your parents are there too; did they know, then, that you were
going to wander in the forest?"

"Yes, I told the waiter to tell them so; they were asleep when I
started."

"And now they are in a fine state of anxiety about you, because you
have not returned, I'll be bound."

"Yes, very likely, my mother especially, she is always so anxious,"
answered Adelbert, not without a pang of remorse. "What can I do?"
continued he, "I am very well off here, I would gladly stay for good
and all, and become a charcoal-burner like you. It is so very beautiful
in the green forest."

"And you are a very foolish boy, it appears to me," answered Severin
drily. "With those little hands, and that delicate pink-and-white face,
to become a charcoal-burner would be very fitting, certainly. Now, if
you were a lad like my Bastel here, he is cut out for it, he has the
proper bone and muscle, and although it is hard work, he can fell the
trees, hew them in pieces, saw then and split them into logs, build up
the kiln, and manage the burning as well as I can. A delicate town-bred
child like you would not be fit for it; your fine clothes and little
white hands and neck would soon be as black as my hands and my jacket
there."

"What does that matter? I should like to try for a little while, at all
events, it must be so nice to work in the shady woods, with the birds
singing so sweetly up amongst the branches."

"Yes, and in the winter, when the snow is yards in depth, and icicles a
foot long hang from the branches of the trees, and the sharp north-east
wind cuts through clothes and skin to your very bones, and freezes the
blood in your veins," said the charcoal-burner mockingly. "No, no,
little boy, you do not understand that sort of thing, it is not your
place, you belong to the town, and your little hands are more fit to
wield the pen than the iron shovel. Now, with my Bastel it is just the
contrary; he would never in his life be clever with the pen, though
he can already manage the iron shovel for his old father right well.
Yes, yes, 'every man in his place;' the city child belongs to the city,
and the forest child to the forest. Changing them never succeeds, many
people have tried it."

"I should not like the town," said Bastel; "but Adelbert is right,
father, in wishing to be in the forest. Here, in the mountain valleys,
it is so much more beautiful than in the narrow streets amongst the
crowds of people, where one can neither move nor stir. I went once to
Wernigerode, Adelbert, with father, when he took some charcoal, but I
could not bear the close stifling streets, although the mountains and
woods were so near; indeed, for my part, I do not care if I never see
any more houses."

"Because that is your nature," said his father earnestly; "you are
a forest child, and it suits you best to live in the forest. It is
fitting for you, but it is not fitting for that boy, because he is
a city child and has rich parents; I can tell that by his clothes,
although they are torn and dirty. See, Bastel, he has a gold chain
hanging out of his pocket, and very likely a gold watch at the end of
it."

Bastel looked, and said curiously, "Is it true? Have you a gold watch?
Oh, do show it me, I never saw such a thing in my life, although I have
often heard of them."

Adelbert drew the watch out of his pocket and handed it to Bastel,
who examined it with the greatest interest, especially the delicate
machinery of the interior.

"It is very pretty," said he, "but I should not know what to do with
it, after all, the sun is my watch, and that always goes right."

"Just so," said his father; "I have never gone by any other in my life;
but put the thing away, Adelbert, we must think of other things now.
You must go back to your father and mother, and the sooner the better,
for of course they do not know where you are. Listen, Bastel, you know
the way to the valley of the Ilse; you must go with him, till he can
find the way by himself."

"That I will do willingly, father," answered the boy, "but only look
at him; he is so tired with wandering about in our hills, and it is
six good miles to Ilsenburg, over hill and valley. He cannot go so far
again to-day, and he cannot pass the night in the woods."

"Impossible!" cried Adelbert. "Six miles to Ilsenburg; I did not think
I had walked two!"

The old man shook his head. "Well, it is rather a long way," said he.
"What is to be done? We cannot leave your poor parents in suspense; the
best way will be to send Hans to Ilsenburg, and I will mind the kiln
the while. Yes, that will be the wisest plan, and then you can rest
to-day, little boy; have a good sleep to-night, and start with Bastel
by break of day to-morrow; that's how we'll manage. Take care of him
this afternoon, Bastel, and amuse him as well as you can, I must be off
to the kiln."

"Yes," answered Bastel, "I will go with him to the trout stream and
fish, that is amusing and not tiring, perhaps we shall catch another
trout for supper; I have seen one more than once, that weighs over five
pounds. If we could get him, it would be capital."

"Then go and try if you can catch him," said his father, "but come home
in good time, and don't get into mischief. Your parents are staying
at the 'Trout' Hotel, are they not, Adelbert? Very well; Hans must go
there. I will send him off at once."

Severin left the cottage to go to the kiln, and Bastel beckoned to
Adelbert to accompany him.

"Come," said he, "the day is good for fishing, most likely they will
bite; do you know anything about it?"

"I have never tried in my life," said Adelbert.

"Then you must learn, it is not difficult, and I will show you the way."

Adelbert thought no more of his fatigue, and Bastel, taking two rods
that stood in a corner of the room, gave his companion one, and they
set off.

The way led up the valley to a shady little pond, formed by the brook
that ran through it; and the water in it was so beautifully clear that
you could plainly see the bottom. A few large trees on the bank rose
high above the low bushes, and stretched their thick roots into the
water, where they formed little caves and grottoes.

"He is hiding himself in one of those holes," said Bastel; "if we can
persuade him to come out, he is ours. But he is very shy, and not
easily caught; however, we will see. Throw your line there by the great
alder bush, and I will try my luck here; but I will show you how to do
it."

Adelbert soon learnt how to manage, and when the float swam quietly on
the water, Bastel left his pupil to himself.

"You have nothing to do, but to stay quite still and watch," said he.
"If the float only moves a little, don't pull the line up, for it
only shows that the fish is playing with the bait; but when the float
is drawn under the water with a jerk, then hold fast to the rod and
call me, the pulling out the fish is the hardest part, and must be
understood, so don't try it by yourself, or he may pull you into the
water instead of you pulling him out; if he is a great fellow, he won't
stand much trifling with."

Adelbert promised to follow these instructions to the letter, and
seated himself under the shade of the trees, whilst Bastel took up his
post about thirty yards farther on. It was cool and quiet here in the
deep valley, by the water-side. The cork floated motionless on the
smooth surface of the pond, and not a single fish seemed to trouble
itself about the bait.

Some time passed in silence, and at last, Adelbert began to feel
sleepy. Involuntarily his eyes closed, though he still kept a firm hold
on the rod. All at once, he was aroused by a jerk: the rod was torn out
of his hand, and only half awake, he had but just time to prevent its
being drawn quite into the water, narrowly escaping a fall into the
pond himself. The float had entirely disappeared, and as he was looking
for it, he saw by the pulling and tugging at the end of the line that
a fish, and a large one too, had taken the bait, as was soon proved by
its nearly jerking the rod out of his hand again.

"Oho," thought he, now thoroughly aroused, "it shan't get away like
that."

And steadying himself with his feet against the root of a tree, he held
the rod with both hands. He soon saw, however, that the fish was too
strong for him, and remembered Bastel's advice, that he should call him
in such a case. He was half inclined to do so, but was ashamed to cry
for help, and besides, he wished to show Bastel that he was a match for
a fish by himself; so he held fast, and tried by every means to bring
the fish ashore, and saw to his joy that he was succeeding, but, just
as he had brought his captive close to the bank, and could see plainly
that it was a trout of an unusual size, it seemed as if it took its
tail in its mouth, and at the same time gave such a spring, that he was
obliged to let go the rod, in order that he might not be compelled to
bear the fish unwilling company in its cool element.

Before he had recovered from the surprise occasioned by this mischance,
rod and all were floating on the water, pulled about in all directions
by the struggles of the trout to free himself.

Now he called with all his might and main, "Help, Bastel, help! Or he
will get away."

"I'm coming," said Bastel, and was there in a twinkling. "Where is it?
What have you done with the rod!"

"There it is, look," answered Adelbert, "the fish pulled it out of my
hand into the water, and nearly dragged me in, too."

"Yes, because you did not do as I told you," said Bastel. "Well, it is
lucky it ended there, and spared you a second cold bath to-day. But we
must get the rod again, and the fish, too, at the end of it; he must be
a fine fellow, and we must not lose him."

In a moment, he had thrown off his clothes, sprung into the water, and
swum to the fishing-rod. When he reached it, he seized it with his
teeth and came back to the bank. The trout tried to prevent him and to
pull the rod away from him again, but he did not succeed, and Adelbert
could not but admire the cleverness with which Bastel slackened the
line, and drew it in again, just at the right moment. As soon as he
could touch the ground, he took the rod in his hand and waded quickly
to the shore, drawing the fish after him. But the capture was not
effected as speedily as Adelbert expected; the fish fought for its
life, and there was for a few minutes a somewhat doubtful battle before
Bastel could land it; and it was only by skilfulness and dexterity that
he succeeded at last, and one sharp blow put an end to the struggle.

Bastel rejoiced as he put on his clothes. "That's it," said he, "that
is the trout I have been trying so long to catch, and I don't believe
we should have got him to-day, if he had not been so over-cunning. He
saw directly that you were not used to fishing, and as he recognised
me as his old enemy, he gave me the 'go-by,' and thinking he was in
no danger from you, snapped up the bait. Yes, yes, that's it. But all
his cunning has not served him, we have got him at last, and a fine
fellow he is, at least six pounds weight, I have never seen a larger or
heavier one. But, Adelbert, you must be a soft fellow to have let the
rod go."

"It might have happened to you, too," answered Adelbert sulkily, "the
brute nearly pulled my arms off."

"Ah, yes, because you did not know how to manage," rejoined Bastel.
"Father is right; such a dainty, town child is not fit for the forest.
But come along, we will take the trout home to mother."

Bastel slung the fish on a piece of string, passed through its gills,
so that he might carry it conveniently, and started homewards with
Adelbert.

The birds sang as gaily as they did in the morning, and Adelbert
listened to them with the greatest pleasure, especially to a
magnificent blackbird, sitting far above their heads, on the highest
branch of an oak-tree, and carolling forth from there its sweet
flute-like notes.

"How lovely that is!" said he to Bastel. "How happy I should be, if I
had a blackbird like that."

"Would you really like it? You can easily have it, if you would."

"You are only joking; Bastel, how could you catch it up there?"

"Oh, that's nothing," said he, quite astonished that Adelbert should
doubt so simple a fact. "In ten minutes you shall have it in your hand,
and afterwards I will make you a cage of willow-twigs, so that you can
take it back with you to Ilsenburg to-morrow. And we will find it some
food, too. I know some fine ants' nests, and blackbirds are very fond
of ants' eggs. Afterwards you can give it berries, and rolls soaked in
milk; we have not any rolls here, but you can get them from the baker's
in Ilsenburg, father brought me several from there once. But first of
all, we will take the trout to mother, and I must get out my snares."

The cottage was not far-off, so the trout was soon disposed of, and
both boys hastened back to where the blackbird still sang, high amongst
the branches. Bastel placed his trap, baited it and went with Adelbert
behind the trunk of a tree near at hand, he then whistled a few
peculiar notes; before long the blackbird left the tree, saw the bait,
darted upon it, and in a moment was struggling in the net. Adelbert was
beside himself with joy, and praised the skilfulness of his new friend.

"Oh, that is nothing," said Bastel, "you only wonder at it because you
are a town boy, and know nothing of the forest. I know all the birds
about here, and the proper traps to catch them with; there is no skill
in it. But now I will make you a cage; there are plenty of willows not
far from here."

They soon found them, and Bastel cut a quantity, and peeling them,
in less than an hour he had woven them into such a neat cage, that
Adelbert could not admire it enough; the blackbird was placed in it.
Bastel gave it plenty of food, and the thing was done.

"What shall we do now?" said he. "Do you like strawberries, Adelbert?"

"Oh yes, that I do, better than anything; are there many about here? I
have only seen a very few to-day."

"That is because you did not know where to look," said Bastel. "There
are quantities; up above there, the ground is quite red with them. Come
with me and see."

Adelbert followed willingly, and Bastel led him to a place literally
strewn with ripe strawberries.

"Eat away," said he, "and I will gather for you the while."

Adelbert ate as fast as he could pluck the sweet red berries, but he
was not half satisfied when Bastel, who had gone a little way off,
returned bringing him his cap full of the most beautiful fruit.

"Here, catch hold," said he, "I have not had half enough, and must get
myself some more."

"But how could you pick so many in such a short time?" asked Adelbert,
staring with amazement.

"Oh, I am used to it," answered Bastel. "Quick eyes and quick fingers
are everything; now eat as many as you want, and when you have had
enough, we will go to the Conies' Hill. I must catch a couple of conies
for mother to make soup to-morrow, they make a capital stew."

"Conies!" exclaimed Adelbert. "What are they? Are they birds?"

"You might as well say fish," laughed Bastel; "how silly you are!
Conies are conies, that's all I know about it; they are like hares,
only not so large, and we may catch them in nets and snares without the
keeper's saying a word to us, but hares are forbidden."

"Oh, I know, they are rabbits, we have some at home," said Adelbert.

"All right," answered Bastel, "we call them conies here, and they make
first-rate soup."

With these words, he betook himself to gathering strawberries again,
and when Adelbert could eat no more, they left the strawberry-bed and
went, Bastel leading the way, to the "Conies' Hill," as they called it,
a barren sand-hill, in a little valley close by, and in some places
quite perforated with holes.

"Do you see how they are running into their holes?" said Bastel. "But
we will soon get out as many as we want."

He went to a large oak-tree, whose trunk was hollow from age, and soon
came back with his arm full of little nets, and a box that he placed on
the ground.

"There is a ferret in here," said he. "Carl, the keeper's son, sent it
to me; but the next thing is to place the nets."

Adelbert watched everything that Bastel did. He spread his bag-like
nets before several holes, which he examined carefully, so that the
mouth of the net enclosed the opening, fastened them to the ground with
wooden pegs, and then took the ferret, a small thin animal, hardly a
foot long, with yellowish-white fur and red eyes, a pointed nose, and
sharp teeth, out of the box.

"What are you going to do with the little animal?" asked Adelbert
curiously.

"You'll see directly," answered Bastel, "I am going to send him into
the conies' houses, and he will bring out every one of them."

"Ah, now, you want to make a fool of me, Bastel," said Adelbert rather
angrily. "You need not take me for an idiot, because I am a town boy."

Bastel laughed heartily. "Now you really are a fool," cried he; "why
should I tell you a lie? If you don't believe me, keep your eyes open,
and you will see."

He carried the ferret to the entrance of a hole, not covered with a
net, and put it down; the animal snuffed about for a minute with its
long nose, and then ran into the hole and disappeared.

"He is gone," said Adelbert, "how will you get him out again?"

"He will come out of his own accord," replied Bastel, "now just watch,
and you will see how he will make the conies run out."

A few moments passed in watchful silence, then a noise was heard in
the rabbit-burrow, and suddenly they came out of the holes in all
directions, and running into the nets, were caught in the meshes.
A few, more lucky than the rest, came out of the holes where there
were no nets. Like lightning, they fled for their lives in fear and
trembling into the open space, as though the destroyer were behind
them, and saved themselves in the thicket beyond.

Quite satisfied, Bastel took up his nets, killed the struggling rabbits
with a blow on the head, and put them altogether into a bag; there were
six of them in the nets.

"And now for the ferret," said Adelbert.

"Here he comes," replied Bastel, and pointed to one of the holes; "do
you not see him poking his long nose out and smelling about? We will
have him directly."

Laying the bag containing the rabbits on one side, he went to the
ferret, pulled him out of the hole, and gently stroking his white fur,
put him back into his box, and once more hid it with the nets in the
hollow tree.

"There!" said he. "Now we have done enough for to-day, and will go
home; the sun has already sunk behind the mountains, and it seems to me
as if we should have a storm. Look at those black clouds, Adelbert; we
must be quick, if we wish to reach the house with dry clothes."

The hollow sound of distant thunder proved the truth of his words; the
air had become very hot and close, and it seemed likely that they would
be overtaken by the storm in the forest.

"Quick, quick!" cried Bastel, as he threw the bag containing the
rabbits over his shoulder. "We must run as fast as we can."

Without keeping to the path, he hastened straight to the cottage, and
Adelbert followed him through thick and thin, for the threatened storm
was coming up quickly, and the rolling thunder sounded nearer and
nearer. Suddenly a rushing noise was heard through the forest, and the
air became dark as night, although the sun was still above the horizon.

"What is that?" asked Adelbert fearfully.

"Oh, it is only the storm sighing in the tops of the trees," said
Bastel. "It will be here directly, do you hear?"

Adelbert listened, and the roaring and rushing came swelling up from
the distance, ever louder and louder, like the sound of the surf
that the wind hurls against the rocks. And now it broke immediately
above the two boys; the tall heads of the trees bent like weak reeds,
the boughs cracked and strained, and clouds of leaves were whirled
through the air. At the same time, the thunder rolled and crashed with
threefold fury, and woke the echoes from valley and cliff, whilst the
lightning flashed with dazzling brightness out of the dark clouds.

Adelbert was pale as death; he had never seen such a storm in his life;
mountains and hills seemed to be whirled round by the fury of the
storm, as if the end of the world were come. Awe-struck and frightened,
he remained rooted to the spot.

"What are you stopping for?" cried Bastel to him. "Run, I say, the rain
will come down like a waterspout directly. There! The first drops are
beginning to fall; luckily, we have not much farther to go."

As Adelbert could not regain his courage directly, Bastel took him by
the arm and dragged him unceremoniously along. "We can hardly see or
hear," said he, "but yonder lies the cottage."

The sight of the sheltering roof reanimated Adelbert's failing
courage, and he hastened on at Bastel's side, and by great efforts
they reached the door just in the nick of time, for hardly had they
passed the threshold, when the rain came down in torrents, and the very
foundations of the earth were shaken by the fearful claps of thunder
and the raging storm.

"Thank Heaven, we escaped it by a hair's breadth," said Bastel to his
parents, who had been watching rather anxiously for the boy's return,
as he stopped into the parlour and shook the rain-drops off him. "That
is a bad storm, father."

"Yes, indeed; I am all the more glad now that I sent Hans to
Ilsenburg," answered the charcoal-burner. "Your parents would be in sad
anxiety, if they did not know you were safely housed, Adelbert; you
must see now how foolish it was to wander into the forest in such a
thoughtless manner."

Adelbert nodded, and looked very penitent; besides, he did not feel
quite easy, for the storm, the lightning, and the claps of thunder
raged faster than ever, and the rain fell in streams. At home in his
father's house in Hamburg, where there was a lightning-conductor, he
always felt secure, but here, in the forest, it seemed very dangerous,
and, to tell the truth, he was afraid. The life of a charcoal-burner
did not seem so desirable as he had before thought, and he began to see
its disadvantages.

After the storm had raged for an hour or more, the thunder subsided
into distant grumbling, though the rain did not stop, but pattered
continually on the leaves of the trees.

"It is over," said the old woodman, as he looked out for a moment into
the dark night, "at least, the thunder is, and now we can think about
supper; how does the trout get on, mother?"

"It will be ready in a minute," answered the woman, hastening actively
into the kitchen.

They talked a little at supper, but Adelbert soon felt so dead tired
that he closed his eyes.

"The dustman has come," said Master Severin laughing, "take him to bed,
mother, and let him sleep, he must be tired, for he left home betimes
this morning."

Adelbert threw himself on the bed prepared for him, and was instantly
so fast asleep that the crashing thunder itself would not have awakened
him.


On the following morning, the cloudless blue sky smiled again on the
newly-refreshed earth, but the ground was so saturated with wet, and
the brooks so swollen by the rain, that it was impossible for Adelbert
to go all the way to Ilsenburg.

"You must wait till the middle of the day," said Master Severin, "by
that time the water will have subsided and the ground dried up, then
you can go, my lads. In the meantime come with me, you must help me to
split logs to build up a fresh kiln, Bastel, as Hans has not come back
yet; the weather has kept him, I daresay."

"Yes, father," said Bastel willingly.

And Adelbert also asked to be allowed to help with the work. "It will
be great fun to be a charcoal-burner for a little while," said he.

"You!" said Severin, laughing. "Hardly, I should think; but try it by
all means, you will soon be tired of your extraordinary fancy."

After the simple breakfast, consisting only of goat's milk, with bread
and cheese, both the boys accompanied the charcoal-burner to the kiln.

Severin pointed out to each of them a great heap of wood already sawn
into logs, that had to be split, and provided them with the necessary
tools, axes, and mallets. Bastel set to work bravely, and Adelbert took
great pains to follow his example; he chopped and chopped with all his
might at the logs, without being able to hew a single one in pieces;
whilst Bastel had already quite a heap of split logs lying round him.

Adelbert was ashamed of his awkwardness, and redoubled his efforts, but
gained nothing save tired arms, wounded fingers, and blistered hands.

At last, quite discouraged, he threw down the axe.

"It won't do," he sighed, as he wiped the perspiration from his
face. "I see now, Severin, that you are right,—I am not fit for a
charcoal-burner; and besides, I only like the forest in fine weather;
after all, I think I prefer a town life."

"I thought you would be cured of your fancy before you were an hour
older," said the charcoal-burner, laughing heartily. "Yes, yes, 'every
man in his place.' You are about as likely to make a charcoal-burner
as an oak-tree to turn into a birch. Providence has ordered it so. The
good God gives to each one different talents and powers; and every one
should be brought up and trained in his proper sphere, or he will be
good for nothing.

"Bastel there, I am thinking, will be a first-rate charcoal-burner
one of these days, and doubtless Heaven will also mark out your path
in life; you will discover all in good time what you are fit for. One
cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, or a sow's ear out of a
silk purse, though both are useful in their way; that is an old saying,
but a very true one.

"Now, let alone the axe, and amuse yourself some other way, if you can.
Up yonder you will find lots of strawberries, go and get some, they are
ripe and sweet, and when Bastel has done what he is about, he shall
come and help you."

Adelbert followed the old man's advice, and betook himself to the
strawberry-bed. Whilst he was gathering the luscious fruit and putting
it in a little basket that Bastel had given him, he thought over the
words of the simple-minded but sensible charcoal-burner, and was more
and more convinced, that with his plain, straightforward common sense,
he had hit the right nail on the head.

"I am a very foolish boy, with all my ridiculous whims and fancies," he
argued, rather ashamed. "I have annoyed my dear father and mother with
them, and will try to make up for it in the future. From this time, I
will be guided by my father, he will know what is best for me, and I
will give up all other nonsense after this; that's what I'll do."

[Illustration]

Two hours passed quickly whilst he was thus engaged, and he was in
the act of coming back to the kiln with his basket full of the most
beautiful strawberries, when the sound of a well-known voice filled him
with surprise and delight.

"Adelbert, Adelbert! Where are you?"

"Here I am, mother," cried he joyfully.

And bounding down the slope, he threw himself into the outstretched
arms of his mother, who overwhelmed him with kisses and tender
reproaches; whilst his father said a few words, to which Adelbert
listened very attentively and humbly.

"Forgive me, my dear father and mother, for all my past follies," he
cried, full of repentance, "I see now how silly and absurd I have made
myself with all my ridiculous whims and fancies; this honest man, who
so kindly received me into his house, when I was wandering like a fool
in the forest, has opened my eyes; only forgive me this once, and as
long as I live, I will never try again to make a silk purse out of a
sow's ear."

His father laughed, whilst his mother once more pressed her son to her
heart.

"Make a silk purse out of a sow's ear!" cried Herr Brockmann. "What
does that mean?"

"Come to Master Severin, father; he will explain it all to you."

Herr Brockmann turned to the old charcoal-burner, shook him warmly by
the hand, and entered into conversation with him, in which he appeared
soon to become much interested. Adelbert in the meantime told his
mother all that had passed since they parted, and she looked at Bastel
in the most friendly manner, as Adelbert praised his conduct, and told
gratefully of all his kindness.

"We are much indebted to you, my dear boy," said she, "you must come
back to Ilsenburg with us, and remain as long as we stay. But you,
naughty Adelbert, what sorrow and anxiety you have caused us! If your
kind host had not sent the messenger, we should not have closed our
eyes all night, especially after the dreadful storm in the evening.
Early this morning, we started from Ilsenburg with donkeys and horses,
as the messenger told us there was no carriage-road up here into the
forest. And now come and dress yourself properly, for at present
you are not fit to be seen. My goodness, Adelbert, what a sight you
are!—Ragged and dirty as the veriest little beggar-boy. Luckily we
have brought linen and clean clothes, and all that is necessary; come,
be quick and change your things, that you may look like a decent boy
again."

Adelbert accompanied his mother to the cottage, one of the
baggage-horses was unloaded, and he soon reappeared clean and tidy, as
he had been when he started the morning before from Ilsenburg.

Bastel looked at him admiringly, but the old charcoal-burner said,
laughing,—

"There now, that fine gentleman is just fit to burn charcoal, that is
the sort of thing we are used to up here in the forest; eh, Bastel?"

They all laughed, Bastel included, but Adelbert hung down his head
ashamed.

"It serves me right to be laughed at and made fun of," said he, "I have
deserved it, but it shall not happen again; 'every man in his place,'
you have said, Master Severin, and I shall remember that."

"It will be the best thing you can do," said his father drily. "But now
we will let bygones be bygones, and hope that experience has at last
taught you wisdom. Let us talk of something else. We have only an hour
or two to stay here."

So they chatted away whilst they ate the good things which Adelbert's
parents had brought from Ilsenburg. Afterwards, they had a full account
of all the little adventures that had befallen Adelbert during his
wanderings in the forest. And Herr Brockmann listened with marked
attention to all that he said of the kind-hearted hospitality of his
host, and of Bastel's good nature.

"I see we are much indebted to our new friends," said he, "and it will
give me the greatest pleasure if I can be of use to them. Tell me
candidly, Master Severin, what I can do for you; speak freely, for I am
rich, and would gladly do what I could to help an honest man like you."

The charcoal-burner looked embarrassed, and was obliged to consider
whether he had anything to wish for; at last he said, "If I had land
and gold, what good would it do me in the end? I am no longer young,
and have learnt nothing but how to burn my charcoal. Certainly, if the
tar-boiling and potash-works, and all the rest of it, which make the
woods so valuable to the Count up yonder, belonged to me, I know all
about that, and could go on in the old way: but I am too old to learn
anything new, and I am content to earn my daily bread in my accustomed
manner, till it please the good God to close my eyes. That's how it is,
sir, and you must not take it amiss, and I thank you heartily for your
kindness, but I will remain here as I always have been, sir."

Herr Brockmann shook his head, glanced at Bastel, and whispered a few
words to his wife, to which she replied with a nod of approval.

"Well, well," said he, turning again to Severin, "perhaps you are
right not to alter the style of living to which you have been so long
accustomed. But there is your son Bastel; he is young, and, from what I
have seen and heard, possesses a good understanding and a clear head,
it is a pity he should be buried here in the forest; let me take him
back with me to Hamburg. I will keep him and send him to school with my
son, and some day I will make a merchant of him."

"That requires a good deal of consideration," said Severin, in answer
to this well-meant proposition. "If I felt sure that it was for the
boy's advantage, I would not say a word against it. But you see, sir,
Bastel is a forest flower, and forest flowers belong to the woods, and
very seldom thrive in the close air of the city. There are exceptions,
I daresay, and perhaps this may be one, as you are kind enough to
interest yourself in the boy, sir, but it must be considered. What do
you think about it yourself, Bastel? And you, mother? You have a voice
in the matter too."

Bastel's eyes sparkled and his cheeks glowed. Adelbert had already told
him many strange and wonderful things of the life and customs in the
great city, and he longed to become acquainted with all the grandeur he
described.

"I should like to try it, father," said he, after a little
consideration.

Master Severin had not apparently expected such an answer, for he was
not a little astonished.

"What!" said he. "Have you forgotten going to Wernigerode, Bastel, and
how you could not get away quick enough to come back to the woods and
mountains?"

"Yes, yes, father, I remember quite well," answered the boy rather
embarrassed; "but, after all that Adelbert has told me, I see it
is quite different in Hamburg: the large ships in the harbour, the
magnificent houses, and the great wide sea. All that and much more
besides, not to be found in Wernigerode, I should like to see and
become acquainted with."

Master Severin shook his head. "I do not think you will like it," said
he; "but I will not stand in your light, Bastel. That be far from me.
And you, mother, what do you think?"

"I don't know, I don't know," answered the simple-minded woman; "let me
alone and don't ask me, it is always hard for a mother to part with her
child. But if it is for Bastel's good, then the yearning mother's heart
must be still. Do what you please, you two, only don't ask me."

"The parting is not for ever, my good woman," answered Madame
Brockmann, in a friendly tone. "Bastel will come home again after
a time, and then you will be pleased to find him a clever and
accomplished young man."

"But will he wear as fine clothes as Adelbert?" asked the mother
anxiously. "And live in your grand house, and eat at your table?"

"Certainly he will," said Herr Brockmann interposing; "I promise you he
shall be treated in everything as my own son; you may rely upon that
and it will not be to his loss."

"Well, be it so then," said the woman with a sigh, "his welfare comes
first of all. I will not hinder you, Bastel, only you must not quite
forget the old home in the woods, and the poor old father and mother."

"Oh no, mother, no fear of that," cried Bastel in heartfelt tones; "and
besides, I can always come back if I do not like Hamburg. Is it not so,
Herr Brockmann? You will not compel me to stay?"

"With regard to that, you will always have your own way; and should it
be the case, I shall make it my business to see that you return safely
and comfortably. So do not be anxious, good people, I have Bastel's
welfare in view, and I do not think you will ever repent having trusted
your boy to our care."

"Very well, so be it then," exclaimed Master Severin, "I will say
nothing more against it; nevertheless, I stick to what I have always
said, 'Every man in his place,' and wild flowers belong to the woods.
But I see Bastel wishes it, and you, sir, mean it so kindly, therefore
it shall be so: take him with you, and let him try how he likes the
great wide world. If the worst come to the worst, he has always one
sure refuge,—his old home and his parents' hearts."

So it was decided that Bastel should leave his native woods and
mountains, and be launched on the broad stream of public life.


Herr Brockmann did not wish to delay his departure, so the hour of
separation soon arrived. Some tears were shed, but as they had both
agreed to Bastel's determination, his parents restrained their feelings
as much as possible, for they said to themselves, "It is for his good."

The next night Bastel slept for the first time in his life under a
strange roof, and in as soft and luxurious a bed as he had never even
seen before. So the wild flower was transplanted from its native
woodland soil to the cultivated gardens of civilization. The future
will show how it throve.



CHAPTER III.

IN THE WIDE WORLD.

DEAR reader, have you ever seen a lovely forest flower whose delicate
bloom and delicious fragrance has charmed your senses? Have you lifted
it carefully from the ground, gently loosening each slender root, taken
it home and planted it, nursing it with the most assiduous attention,
in order that you might watch at your leisure its expanding loveliness?
Did you not give it the finest mould, water it night and morning, and
give it fresh air, sunshine or shade, as it might require it?

And see, at first the tender little head will droop, then it will raise
itself again and shoot up quickly and strongly: blossom succeeds to
blossom and leaf to leaf in unusual luxuriance, till all at once, in
spite of every loving and tender care, it comes to a standstill, and a
marked change begins to appear. The buds no longer burst into flower,
the leaves and their stems shrivel up, fade, and fall off; the plant
sickens, and all your efforts to breathe into it new, fresh, vigorous
existence only serve to prolong for a brief space its waning life, for
a week, a month, perhaps even a year.

But at last, notwithstanding your care, the little branches stand quite
bare and withered, and your cherished plant is dead, without a hope of
recovery. Surely, you thought, it must be better off for you here than
in the forest, exposed to all weathers, the parching sunshine or the
icy blast, with no one to care whether it was moist or dry. True, but
then out there it was placed in just the right spot and the right soil,
and no attention, or love, or care that you can bestow, can make up for
that, and it will wither and die.

So it was with Bastel, when he was suddenly taken from the quiet
loneliness of the depth of the forest, and plunged into the bustle and
turmoil of the world—transplanted from the simple cottage that had been
his home since he first saw the light, to the glitter and pomp of a
rich man's house in a strange city.

At first, he forgot everything in the new and hitherto unknown
experiences that crowded upon him at every turn. With wondering eyes
he looked around, and gazed at all that seemed strange or rare; at
the cultivated and fruitful plains, so different from the wild wooded
mountains of his distant home; the great cities, with their magnificent
palaces, churches, and museums; the soldiers with their polished arms
and uniforms, and the thousands of gaily-dressed people who thronged
the streets; the great rivers with their steamers and sailing vessels;
and the railroad with its snorting iron horse that seemed to him to fly
over the ground on the wings of the wind.

He became a different creature,—he was no longer the bold, fearless
Bastel of the woods. The unwonted life made him shy, and confused
his clear mind, pressing with heavy weight on his heart and senses.
Secretly he envied Adelbert, who seemed so easy and confident in the
midst of all this turmoil, and who was never surprised at anything.
Indeed, he not only envied him, but watched him with shy wonder, and
felt himself as much his inferior now, as he had imagined himself his
superior in the woods, where he had laughed at and made fun of him.
Their places were just reversed: Adelbert was now the wise, skilful,
and clever one, whilst poor Bastel hung his head and became so
excessively awkward and silly, that when Adelbert laughed at him, as he
often did, for his complete ignorance of the ways of the world, he let
it pass meekly and silently.

"Don't vex yourself about it, Bastel," Herr Brockmann would say to him
encouragingly, "you will soon get used to these things, and he who has
a brave spirit quickly masters them. You will get on better in Hamburg
than you do now on the journey, where everything sweeps before your
eyes and dazzles you."

Bastel sighed, and felt strong doubts on the point, spite of these
assurances, whilst his heart yearned for his native woods and hills.
There, he certainly did not see so much that was new, and beautiful,
and magnificent, but then what he did see was familiar to him. At
home he had not such good clothes as he now wore, but they were more
useful to him; these only constrained and distressed him, pretty as
they were; whereas, the old linen jacket and breeches were so easy
and comfortable. If he had not been afraid of appearing weak and
changeable, he would have asked Herr Brockmann, on the very first day
of the journey, to let him go home again. But the sense of shame was
stronger even than his longing for his native woods and hills, so he
held his tongue, and betrayed as little as possible of his state of
mind.

But Herr Brockmann had sharp eyes, and read his thoughts.

"Have patience, Bastel," said he. "In a year or so, you will think
otherwise, I hope and believe."

"We are quits now, Bastel," said Adelbert laughing, as one day in
Berlin he was rallying him for having mistaken a grandly-dressed
footman for a nobleman at least, if not for the king himself, and had
waved his hand to him. "If I was a silly boy in the forest, you are not
the wisest boy in the city; we are quits now, eh, Bastel?"

"Oh yes," answered Bastel, still red with annoyance at his mistake, "I
am quite ashamed of myself for having laughed at and made fun of you,
and it is quite fair that I should be the one to be laughed at now. My
father spoke truly when he said 'every one should keep his own place,'
and certainly the city is not mine."

"You will soon get used to it, Bastel," said Adelbert good-naturedly.
"You will find that it is not so difficult for you, as for a town child
to get accustomed to a forest life. I found that out when I tried to
hew the logs of wood in pieces. It is pleasant and easy to live in the
city when it becomes familiar to you; only wait till we are in Hamburg."


A few days afterwards they arrived at Hamburg. And then Bastel soon
perceived that Adelbert was not far wrong in what he had said. He found
it very pleasant and easy to live in the great city as far as fatigue
and bodily hardships were concerned. For during the first part of his
stay, he had nothing whatever to do but to eat, drink, and sleep,
go for walks and drives, and make acquaintance with the new world,
under the care of his experienced friend Adelbert. That was not very
difficult. But his wonder and astonishment did not all at once give
place to presence of mind and perfect ease.

However, by degrees, unaccustomed things became familiar to him, and he
held up his head again, as briskly and boldly as he had done at home;
not, however, till he had overcome somewhat the feeling of shyness and
depression; and not, indeed, before he had committed various blunders
and mistakes. He opened his eyes and wondered more than ever, when
Adelbert led him for the first time through the rooms in his father's
house, then through the great warehouses, and lastly to the villa on
the banks of the Elbe. He had seen a great many strange and beautiful
things in the hotels on the journey, but nothing that could compare
with the splendour, magnificence, and luxury he found in the dwelling
of the rich merchant.

When he thought of his father's small, poor cottage in the Hartz
mountains, what a contrast was there! The large, lofty rooms, the
beautiful statues, the pictures and mirrors in their broad, gilded
frames adorning the walls, the bright, gorgeously-coloured carpets, on
which at first he hardly dared to tread; the softly-stuffed chairs and
sofas, on which he almost feared to sit, lest he should sink entirely
in them; the costly cabinets of rare woods, filled with all kinds of
things for which he knew no use,—all dazzled and bewildered him, for he
had had no idea of the existence even of such magnificence.

Even the few things he was accustomed to, were presented to him in a
strange form,—for instance, the washstand when he went to his luxurious
bedroom the first night at Hamburg. On the journey he had always slept
by himself, washed himself as he had been used to do it, and then
jumped into his clothes as quickly as possible. In Hamburg he shared
Adelbert's room, and the washstand placed ready for each of them was
furnished with all kinds of things he had never even seen. Combs and
brushes of every conceivable shape and form; boxes and glasses filled
with soaps, tooth powder, and fragrant oils and essences, stood there
in convenient order; he could not possibly guess their different uses.
Adelbert had either to tell him or show him what they were for, and
had many a hearty laugh at his comical mistakes, such as taking a
nail-brush for a toothbrush, or using pomade instead of tooth powder,
and then making absurdly wry faces.

"If my mother only saw how folks wash and dress, and oil and soap
themselves in the city," said he, "she would hold up her hands in
wonder and amazement. We don't use all these things in our parts,
Adelbert. In the morning we wash at the brook, pass a comb through our
hair, and we are dressed for the day in five minutes."

"But surely you cleaned your teeth," said Adelbert, "how else are they
so white and polished?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," replied Bastel, "they were always so; I
suppose when one has to bite through the thick pieces of hard black
bread we always have for breakfast, that cleans them."

"Perhaps so," said Adelbert with a knowing look, "but that won't do in
the city. Here you must brush your teeth at after least three times
a day,—in the morning, dinner, and before you go to bed. Did you not
notice my doing so yesterday?"

"Oh yes, but I thought you had a nasty taste in your mouth you wanted
to get rid of," said Bastel; "well, I never heard of such thing!"

At table, too, Bastel made many mistakes. He could not distinguish
between large and small plates, knives, forks and spoons, nor find a
proper use for all the numerous articles belonging to a well-ordered
table in a rich man's house. It was all so new and strange to him, and
although he admired it very much, yet he could not help thinking that
it was much more comfortable at home, when one put one's spoon into the
dish and ate out of it till one had had enough.

All the forms and ceremonies of city life were burdensome to him.
However, after he had a few times taken oil for vinegar, poured gravy
over the salad instead of over the meat, when he had awkwardly and
clumsily broken a few plates and glasses, taken caviare for cartwheel
grease, and declared and maintained that oysters were nasty snails, he
fell at last into the new ways and forms, and learnt from Adelbert's
example how a well-mannered boy should behave at table. Only he could
not get accustomed to drinking wine and eating oysters, but kept to the
boiled and roast meats and the water-jug.

Adelbert laughed at him about it, but Herr Brockmann approved.

"Be always contented with water, Bastel," said he, "it is far better
than so much wine."


After about a week, when Bastel had become rather more at home,
Adelbert thought it was time he should see something of the city.
He begged leave to drive him himself, and his father consented, on
condition that a steady, responsible servant accompanied them, to guard
against accident.

So Adelbert ordered his little carriage and ponies, the boys seated
themselves, the servant jumped up behind, and Adelbert drove gaily
into the city towards the harbour, where his father's house of
business stood. Bastel wondered at the skill with which he managed the
mettlesome and high-couraged little animals, and was obliged to confess
secretly that he had behaved somewhat foolishly to him in the forest.

"He knows so much, and can do so many things that I cannot," thought he
to himself; "what a mistake it was to laugh at him because he was not
familiar with my ways!"

Bastel admired him still more when they went into Herr Brockmann's
great warehouses, and Adelbert pointed out the stores of rare goods
that came from all parts of the world, and explained to him their
purposes and use. It was only natural that Adelbert should be familiar
with all this, for from his earliest youth he had been used to it,
but Bastel marvelled at the extent of his knowledge, and felt very
insignificant and ignorant in comparison.

"You are greatly to be envied, Adelbert, for knowing so much," said he;
"I see plainly it will be very difficult for me to become like you,
and, indeed, I do not think I shall ever be that as long as I live."

Adelbert laughed and said, "It seems a little difficult now, but in a
month's time you will know as much as I do. But come along, we will go
to the harbour and look at the ships; you will stare then, you have
nothing like them in your mountains."

"More new and wonderful things yet!" sighed Bastel. "When will they
come to an end? I feel already quite confused and bewildered."

However, Adelbert would not let him rest, but led him to a point whence
he could see the whole harbour at a glance, and amused himself highly
at his expressions of wonder.

And certainly his astonishment was greater here than it had been
anywhere else. The large ships crowding together hull to hull, the
forest of masts rising before him, the hundreds of gay pennons and
flags, the sails flapping loosely from the yards, the small boats
plying backwards and forwards, the business-like activity prevailing
everywhere, the different dresses of the foreigners, the majestic
ships in full sail gliding down the broad stream, the large steamers
beating the water with their monstrous paddle-wheels, a thick black
smoke streaming behind them like a dark banner,—the whole presented
a picture, whose several details might well be enough to overwhelm
the simple youth, who had so lately left the quiet loneliness of his
distant mountain home.

Bastel stood silent for some time, with clasped hands and fixed eyes,
and seemed as if he could never tire of gazing, and wondering at this
remarkable scene.

"It is too much, it is too much," stammered he at length, "it
overwhelms me; I shall never be able to master all these things."

"In a month you will," asserted Adelbert with confidence. "One gets
used to all this much quicker than to chopping wood."

In a merry mood he led his friend to the harbour, stepped with him into
a boat, and was rowed into the midst of the ships, where he gave Bastel
many instructions and explanations.

"There, look," said he, "that is an east Indiaman, come from Bombay
or Calcutta; you can tell that by the dark faces of the sailors, they
are Lascars and natives of India. This schooner is a Maltese vessel;
the sailors' red caps tell you that. Here is a Dutch whaler that has
brought sperm-oil and whalebone from the Polar seas; you may know it
easily by the greasy look of the vessel and the crew. Ah! Here is the
'Elizabeth,' my father's finest three-masted ship; it arrived last
night from the West Indies, laden with sugar, coffee, and tobacco.
We will go on board, for you ought to see a vessel like that. Pull
alongside, my man. Halloa, on board there! Lower away the ladder!"
Adelbert's loud call brought the mate to the side of the ship.

He looked angry at first, but when he saw it was the owner's son, his
cross look gave place to a friendly one. "Young Master Adelbert!" cried
he. "Welcome on board, sir! Here, my men, be quick with the ladder."

The ladder was lowered over the vessel's side, and Adelbert sprang
nimbly up, whilst Bastel, who was generally a bold and active climber,
followed cautiously and timidly. Adelbert laughed at him.

"You do well to laugh at me," said Bastel, laughing himself a little
nervously, "here you are quite at home, whilst I feel uncertain and
strange about everything; you did not laugh at me at my home."

"Very true, Bastel, but I did not mean it unkindly," answered Adelbert;
"you know 'every man in his place;' you were my superior there, and
here it is just the reverse; don't be cross about it, you have plenty
more to see yet. Show us round, mate; this is my friend and brother
Bastel, a good fellow, but he is from the country and knows nothing
about ships."

The mate willingly and good-humouredly did as he was requested, and
took the two boys all over the ship, from the upper deck to the hold,
giving them at the same time short but clear explanations of all that
must necessarily be new and strange to Bastel, who listened to him
with marked attention, and gazed with interest at everything,—the
neatly-fitted cabin of the captain, the high masts, the heavy anchors,
the little compass, the confusion of sails and ropes, and the simple
hammocks of the sailors. Everything was so entirely new to him that of
course it possessed unusual interest.

"And now, what shall we do?" said Adelbert, as they came on deck again.
"Shall we take a look at the masts up above?"

He hoped that Bastel would not venture upon it, and that he should
enjoy a good laugh at his expense. But he forgot that where climbing
was concerned Bastel was in his element, for often at home he had
climbed to the highest branches of the oak, the beech, and the pine.

"If the masts were not so thick," answered Bastel as he measured the
height with his eye, "from the first landing-place up there, I could
manage very well, but down here no one could clasp them."

"If nothing else hinders you, young gentleman," said the mate, "yonder
are the rattlins, you can run up them like ladders. But I would not
advise you to try, it is very high up there at the mast-head."

"Yes, yes, he will think twice before he ventures," said Adelbert
laughing. "I have never tried it myself even, although I am as much at
home on board ship as in my father's house."

"You have never tried it?" asked Bastel with sparkling eyes, as he
caught hold of a rope near at hand, glad of an opportunity of gaining a
little admiration from him. "You have never ventured?"

"I do not care to risk my neck," answered Adelbert, "and you had better
not do so either."

"Oho! We'll soon see about that," cried Bastel, quite pleased, as he
quickly threw off his smart jacket. "In less than five seconds I shall
be at the top."

"Don't, Bastel, it is dangerous," said Adelbert anxiously, "you will
become giddy and fall."

"Nonsense," laughed Bastel, running nimbly aloft. "I will show you that
I can do something, even if it is not much."

Almost before they could look round, he had reached the crosstrees,
clasped the great mast above with both hands, climbed it like a
squirrel, then on to the top gallant mast, the highest of all, and a
moment after, stood on the highest point, where he hailed Adelbert on
deck.

"Here I am, Adelbert!" cried he. "It is beautiful up here; come to me,
if you dare."

"No, thank you," called Adelbert back to him, "I had rather let it
alone, you had better come down here instead."

"That is easily done," answered Bastel.

And sliding down the mast, he stood the next moment on deck by
Adelbert's side, with flushed cheek and sparkling eyes.

Adelbert grasped his hand. "Well, you are brave," he said heartily
without the slightest envy, "I could not have done it, but I see you
are accustomed to trees, whether they are in the forest or on board
ship. What your father said is very true, 'every man has his place,'
and certainly you are clever and skilful enough in yours."

"Why am I here, then?" asked Bastel thoughtfully.

Adelbert shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, that I cannot tell you; but my
father will know, you must ask him; perhaps it is in order that you
should become acquainted with other manners and customs."

"I shall never do that as long as I live; I feel it here, and here,"
said Bastel, laying his hand on his heart and on his forehead. "I feel
here that the good God has created me for the forest, and nothing can
change it."

"Ask my father, he is sure to give you good advice," returned Adelbert.

"Very well, so I will," said Bastel, "and directly too, as soon as we
return to the house."

They were rowed next to a large American steamer, and then to an
emigrant ship, over both of which they were shown, inspecting the
arrangements, and having explained to them how the steam set in motion
the great paddle-wheels.

Contrary to all expectation, Bastel understood far more quickly and
clearly the locomotive power of the machinery, than did Adelbert,
although his knowledge was so much more extensive. Besides, since
Bastel had won the little victory over Adelbert in climbing the mast,
he bore himself far more firmly and boldly, the self-confidence that
had so long deserted him seemed to have returned, and it appeared to
him as if a dull, heavy weight had been lifted from his head and his
heart. He breathed freely again, his eyes sparkled brightly as in
former days, and his mind became once more clear and penetrating, as
though a dark cloud had passed away from it. He had required something
to rouse him from his despondency, and it came in the shape of the
little triumph he had obtained over Adelbert.

Hardly had they reached home, when he sought Herr Brockmann, and asked
him, in his honest, open manner, why he had taken him from the forest
and brought him to Hamburg.

Herr Brockmann regarded him for a moment with some astonishment, and a
look of pleasant surprise showed itself on his benevolent countenance.

"Why, Bastel," said he, without at first answering his question, "how
bright you look, something must have happened to please you."

"Yes, Herr Brockmann," replied Bastel, "I have come to myself again; my
days were a burden to me, I had become so stupid and dull; everything
new and beautiful that I saw, instead of pleasing me, oppressed me so
much that often I have said to myself, 'Oh, that I were dead and at
rest!'

"I could not speak, for it seemed so ungrateful to complain, when I
received nothing but kindness and affection. I thought I was of no use
at all in the world, and that worried and tormented me so much that I
knew not how to contain myself. But it is past now; I feel that, after
all, I may be fit for something in my own sphere, although it may not
be in the city, and therefore, Herr Brockmann, I wished to ask you why
you had taken me out of the forest? I know quite well you intended it
for my good, but I would really wish to know in what position I am to
be placed, that I may prepare myself for it."

Herr Brockmann looked kindly at him, and answered in an affectionate
tone, "I will tell you in a very few words. You see that your father
was perfectly right, when he gave it as his opinion that a man could
only be happy in his own station; that is to say, according to the
position and circumstances in which it has pleased God to place him.
But, Bastel, listen well to what I say; although one ought to keep to
one's own station in life, there are different ways of doing that.

"For instance, first of all, everyone should perfect himself as much
as possible in that station, whether it be by learning, thought, or
mechanical labour, and secondly, that everyone should take pains, when
opportunities are offered to him, to become acquainted with the ways
of other people, and learn from them whatever is most serviceable to
himself. You, Bastel, had you remained with your father, would, in
time, have become a strong and excellent charcoal-burner, for you are
a child of the forest, and well fitted for it by your strength and
natural turn of mind. But in that case, do you think that you would be
doing your best to enlarge your mind and cultivate your talents? Your
abilities enable you to acquire much that would be of advantage to you
in your own sphere.

"My intention is, not to separate you entirely from your former mode of
life, but to enable you to improve and benefit yourself in many ways. I
would not make a hot-house plant of the forest flower, but I wish that
it should thrive and prosper, and bear the blossoms and fruit that only
learning and a knowledge of the world can produce. Do you understand
me? You shall learn whatever can be learnt to fit you better for your
particular life. Therefore learn all you can; you have powerful mind,
and by industry and perseverance you can turn it to good account in
your own line, if it be only to make you an enterprising, scientific
charcoal-burner. Do you see what I mean?"

"Yes, Herr Brockmann, I understand you perfectly," replied Bastel
thoughtfully. "It is just as I imagined from the beginning; that you
meant most kindly towards me, and now that I see my way plainly, I will
neglect nothing that can serve to advance my welfare and prosperity.
I thank you from my heart, Herr Brockmann. Therefore, the sooner the
better; I am tired of an idle life, and would begin to learn as soon as
possible."

"That is right, Bastel," said Herr Brockmann, much gratified, "I
see I was not deceived in you. From to-morrow you shall have every
opportunity of learning what is best fitted for you, and will be most
useful to you hereafter."

That same hour Herr Brockmann made the necessary arrangements.

And the next day, Bastel left the house and went to live in a small
room in the School of Science.

Madame Brockmann and Adelbert wondered much at this arrangement.

"What is the reason of that, dear husband?" asked the former in
astonishment. "You send Bastel away, although we promised his parents
to care for him and treat him as our own child; he is so good and
modest and well-behaved. Why, then, is he banished? He will not be half
as well off in the school as here with us."

"Not as far as luxuries are concerned, perhaps, but it will be much
better for his mind," answered Herr Brockmann. "I promised his father
to make a great man of him, and a great man he shall be, but in his own
line of life. Our ways are not suited to him, and you must surely have
seen that he has not been at his ease here. He must not acquire wrong
tastes and habits, for he is poor, and must hereafter gain his living
by his own exertions. It is best for him as it is, depend upon it;
and besides, he can be with us every Sunday, and will be as cordially
received by us as hitherto. We shall then see if he does not feel
happier living in the school, in industry and activity, than with us in
idleness and luxury, in which he has not been brought up, and to which
with my consent he never shall be accustomed."

Madame Brockmann shook her head, as though she were not quite satisfied
with her husband's reasoning; however, she raised no further objection,
but let the matter rest. Adelbert missed his playfellow for a few days,
for he loved him dearly; but he felt his loss the less, when he spent
every Sunday with him.


Meanwhile, Bastel seemed to be in his right place, for it was
surprising to see how fast he developed both mentally and bodily. With
an ease that astonished his teachers, he worked with steady industry
and untiring energy, till he was reported to his parents as the best
and most talented of all the scholars, and always carrying off the
first prize at the yearly examination.

In a short time he was no longer afraid to compete with Adelbert; in
knowledge he was his equal, nay, almost his superior, and the new
world that had so confused and oppressed him at first, had now nothing
fresh or strange, and he bore himself as easily and confidently as he
had done of old in his woods and hills. He was no longer the bashful,
awkward Bastel of former days, but a fine-looking youth, sound in
body and mind, with large, clear eyes, and as clear a soul. He had
become another creature, and was unchanged only in his brave and
honest disposition. Modest, grateful, and full of respect towards his
benefactors, he yet preserved the old tender love for his parents and
the home of his childhood deep down in his heart.

And often, very often, there rose up within him a yearning for the
shady valleys, the murmuring brooks, and the rustling forests of the
far-off "Hartz," making his heart heavy and his eyes fill with tears,
and mixing even with his dreams. But he would not give way to this
feeling—he subdued it, and concealed it so completely from his kind
friends that they had no idea that it existed.

Indeed, his cheerfulness on the days he spent with the family, his
whole demeanour, apparently so devoid of care, and the circumstance of
his never speaking of his home, caused Herr Brockmann to think that he
had forgotten it entirely. He could not know that Bastel did not speak
of his mountains and valleys because he would not betray himself, or
appear ungrateful for the kindness of his friends. But he longed in
secret for the day when he should return to his peaceful woods, and his
heart beat loud and fast, when he thought that happy time might not be
far distant.

But, as has been said before, Bastel, from a sense of delicacy, hid his
real feelings so carefully that Herr Brockmann had no idea of their
existence. And besides, he loved him so dearly that the wish often
arose in his heart, and became stronger and stronger, to keep him
always with him, to plan out his future for him, and give him an equal
share with Adelbert of his large business. His affection for Bastel
so influenced him that he was convinced such a lot was best for him,
and that he would himself greatly prefer it to returning to the poor
dwelling of his parents. But he said nothing of his plan, and contented
himself with observing Bastel till the time should come when he would
leave the school, covered with the highest honours.

Bastel himself had looked forward to this day with the most earnest
longing, for it seemed to him as the day of his release from captivity.

"The goal is now reached that Herr Brockmann pointed out to me,"
said he to himself. "Now I can thank him for all the kindness I have
received at his hands, and then—then, I will go back to my mountains,
and once more breathe the pure forest air, and rejoice in the valleys
and cliffs, and never, never leave them again."

With these thoughts he hastened to Herr Brockmann, who received him as
usual with open arms.

"Now you will live with us for the future as one of the family," said
he cordially, "for you must consider this house as your home, and very
soon we will arrange your future plans. You will never think now of
returning to the lonely, distant forest, or handling again the iron
shovel. I have a brilliant future in prospect for you."

Herr Brockmann, full of his plans, and occupied with the kindest
thoughts, did not notice how Bastel's blooming, happy countenance
became ashy pale, and his eyes dim with emotion, the evidence of the
struggle within.

"Yes, yes, Bastel, you shall soon know the good things I have in store
for you," continued he, affectionately, whilst Bastel turned away,
that he might hide his emotion from his benefactor. "You know that you
have been as dear to me as my own son. I cannot bear the thought of a
separation, and will devote myself to your future with fatherly care. I
hope, therefore, you will permit me to choose your career for you say,
my son, shall it be so?"

Bastel could have cried aloud in grief and anguish. "No, no, no! Send
me back to my beloved mountains, to my peaceful home, where alone I can
be happy." But gratitude towards so tender and affectionate a friend
stifled the words, and with trembling lips he answered, "Your slightest
wish, my father, is a command."

And so the words were spoken which bound him to slavery.

"Right, my son," said Herr Brockmann, embracing him, "only trust to me,
and I hope soon to see you as happy and contented as I could wish, and
you deserve. Now leave me, and to-morrow you shall hear what I intend."

"To make me miserable," sighed Bastel, as with breaking heart he left
the room.

Full of grief and sorrow, he went out into the open air. He must reason
with himself, and collect his scattered senses, before he could again
present himself; and so he sought a quiet, lonely spot, where he could
think undisturbed, and fight out the battle with his feelings. What
should he do? His whole heart drew him homewards, but could he grieve
his kind friend and reward him with ingratitude? No, a thousand times,
no! He must submit to his wishes, must accept further benefits at his
hands, and hide from his loving eyes the grief that bore him to the
earth. It was a long time before he could come to this decision, for
his longing for the mountains was so intense that he could scarcely
overcome it, even out of consideration to Herr Brockmann.

The evening was far advanced before he returned to the house, and
joined the family at the tea-table. Madame Brockmann pressed his hand,
Adelbert embraced him warmly, and Herr Brockmann drew him to a chair at
his side.

"It is all arranged," said he; "I have spoken to my wife and child, and
they are as much pleased as I am at the thought of keeping you always
with us. There is no need for further delay. To-morrow you will enter
my counting-house, and receive the same salary as Adelbert; it will
amply suffice you, as you will remain always a member of our house, and
later, when it pleases God to take me, or I retire from business, you
will continue it in partnership with Adelbert. In this manner I hope
to fulfil the promise I made to your parents, for, as partner in the
house of 'Brockmann,' you have, in my opinion, acquired an honourable
position in the world."

"It is too much!" stammered Bastel, whilst a tear rolled down his cheek.

"To have you is a gain to us," said Herr Brockmann, smiling, "so we are
quits."

Ah! If the generous soul had but known that Bastel's tears were not
tears of delight, but of the bitterest grief. He wept, alas! for his
vanished hopes, but kept firm to his resolution that he would conquer
his feelings and preserve towards his adopted father the most devoted
faith. He had done so much for him, he could not be ungrateful. With a
powerful effort, he recovered himself, and no one knew what deep and
bitter grief was hid under his smiling countenance.

According to his kind friend's wish, he entered on his business the
next day, and devoted his whole energies to him from that hour.

Herr Brockmann wondered at his industry and perseverance, but he did
not know that Bastel sought by hard work to distract his thoughts, and
forget his cherished, but now lost hopes. In work alone did Bastel find
relief, and he rested neither day nor night, till complete exhaustion
obliged him to pause. His health failed under the continual struggle,
and even Herr Brockmann begged him to spare himself, but Bastel only
shook his head, smiling sadly, and flung himself with increased energy
into the press of business.

For a few months he kept on, although his cheeks got daily paler and
thinner, and a consuming grief dimmed his once sparkling eyes. But
when spring came, when the trees put on again their green dress, and
the thrush's flute-like notes were heard amongst the branches, then he
could hold out no longer.

"Everything is pleasant and magnificent here," said he in his
pain, "far better than the poor valleys at home; only one thing is
wanting—taste and inclination to enjoy it."

At the return of May, the longing awoke again in Bastel's heart with
irresistible force. The call of the thrush, to which he would listen
with delight in former days, filled his breast with that most grievous
malady, home-sickness. He could bear no more: the fetters with which
he had bound his soul were wrenched asunder by the mightiness of his
feelings, and his health at last gave way. A lingering, nervous fever
attacked him, he hovered for weeks on the brink of the grave; only the
most tender care, and constant attention on the part of his friends,
saved him from death.

Many long nights Herr Brockmann watched by his bed-side, and listened
to the wild ravings as they issued from his lips. Madame Brockmann and
Adelbert listened also, and for the first time became aware what had
overcome Bastel, and laid him on a bed of sickness.

"The good, noble, faithful heart," said Herr Brockmann, with strong
emotion. "He sacrificed himself—and for my sake! Oh God, restore him
to life and health, and then—then it shall be my aim to restore him to
happiness in his own sphere. How blind we all were not to have seen and
known this!"

And Bastel recovered,—recovered at last, after great suffering, and
it was with deep thankfulness that he became aware of the tender,
untiring, affectionate care that had been shown towards him.

"How they must love me, I cannot grieve them," said he.

These thoughts again took possession of him, and it was impressed
on his mind, that though he might return to his mountain home if he
wished, yet he would appear most ungrateful if he did, and he was
silent still, as he had been before.

But those who loved him were no longer deceived: they had seen all, and
loved him none the less that he again sought to conceal his grief and
sorrow in patient silence.


One beautiful day in June, Bastel, strengthened and invigorated, sat
for the first time in the gardens of the villa, surrounded by his
friends, and with deep-drawn breath inhaled the refreshing and fragrant
air. His cheeks were still pale and his eyes dim, but for the most part
his health and strength had returned to him.

"Do you feel able to go back to work, dear Bastel?" said Herr Brockmann.

"O yes, I long to be up and doing again," answered Bastel eagerly; "how
can I show my endless gratitude for your fatherly kindness except by
work and industry?"

"Well, then, Bastel," said Herr Brockmann, "I will put your gratitude
to the proof;—do you know I have quite different plans for you now?"

"In everything that lies in my power you can depend on me," answered
Bastel, "you know well that I belong entirely to you."

"Yes, I know that," said Herr Brockmann with some emotion, "you are a
good son, and have a faithful heart. But nevertheless, Bastel, I am
not sure that your new calling will be agreeable to you, and I would
not press you to enter it, if there were anyone else to whom I could
entrust the business. We must part, Bastel, not for ever, certainly
not, for I hope we shall see each other many times in the course of the
year; nevertheless, it is a parting, and it is doubtful, after all, if
you will readily undertake the charge."

"Oh, do not doubt my willingness," said Bastel entreatingly, "wherever
you wish to place me, I will remain, if I can serve you in any way."

"Well, then, to the point," continued Herr Brockmann smiling; "whilst
you were ill, I bought between 1000 and 1200 acres of forest land in
the 'Hartz,' near your old home,—indeed, I think your father's house is
in the midst of it,—at a very moderate price, as it lies some little
distance from the high road of the inhabited districts. That, however,
is no disadvantage to me, for I intend to level the forest in different
places and turn the fallen trees into charcoal, tar, pitch, potash, and
suchlike produce, the transport of which over the narrow forest paths
will not be difficult. We have had such a demand in our business for
these articles that for years we have hardly been able to supply it.

"On this account, I quickly decided on the purchase of the forest
land, and you can understand why I reckon so much upon you and your
technical knowledge, and thought that a year's residence in the woods
would not be so dispiriting and disagreeable to you, as it would be to
many others who have been accustomed to a city life from their youth.
Speak freely, dear Bastel. If my plan does not suit you, it shall be
abandoned and mentioned no more."

Bastel had been greatly agitated whilst Herr Brockmann was addressing
him in such fatherly tones. His heart swelled almost to bursting, his
cheeks grew white and red by turns, the large tears gathered in his
eyes, and springing up, he clasped the hands of his benefactor.

"Oh, my father, my kind, tender father," he cried with emotion and
trembling with excitement, "I understand you, you have read my
thoughts, and now, instead of blaming me, you heap blessings on my
head."

Smiling, but much moved, Herr Brockmann returned the embrace, and said
softly,—

"Yes, Bastel, I must try to make up for that in which my blindness has
caused me to fail, though I meant all for the best. I forgot that you
could only be happy in your own sphere. That was my mistake: yours was,
that you did not speak openly to me, and confirmed me in my error, till
at last in your delirium your sorrows found words, and I learnt that,
of which, but for your illness, I should still be ignorant. God be
thanked that it was so, and that you were not sacrificed to your too
great delicacy of feeling and mistaken gratitude.

"But enough, my son, I have appreciated your motives, and you have, by
showing such constant fortitude and such a grateful heart, endeared
yourself still more to us all. And now tell me quickly, does my plan
please you? And will you agree to it?"

"Oh, most heartily, and with the deepest gratitude, if I may hope that
I shall not be separated from you all for ever," cried Bastel.

"We will spend a few weeks at least together every year," answered Herr
Brockmann; "you shall come to us and we will go to you, and I trust
they will be very happy days we shall pass with each other. For the
rest, my son, be satisfied, the business you have undertaken is really
of the greatest importance, and you must not think that I bought the
forest land only for your sake. I reckon on making considerable profit,
as might be expected from so large an undertaking, so you do not owe
me any such extreme gratitude. It is fortunate that the employment
suits you, and my most earnest wish is, that you may at last find true
happiness in your own station."

       *       *       *       *       *

Two years were passed by Bastel in untiring but profitable activity, in
the neighbourhood of his old home. How different the woods and valleys
looked now, that in his childhood had been so quiet, so lonely, and
so remote! Large and handsome manufactories were erected in the most
convenient spots; countless kilns burned and smoked in various parts of
the woods; tar, pitch, and potash-boiling was going on here and there,
and hundreds of poor people were employed in turning the forest to the
greatest possible advantage.

Bastel and his father managed everything. Ways were made through the
forest, to open communication between the works and the high road, and
on those roads, long trains of waggons journeyed backwards and forwards
filled with charcoal, and laden also with huge packages and boxes,
carrying northward to the storehouses of Herr Brockmann the produce
of the woodland manufactories, whence they were again despatched into
distant lands. Adelbert managed the business in Hamburg as Bastel did
in the forest, and by this arrangement each one found, in the position
for which nature had fitted him, true happiness and contentment.

The tracks of cleared forest became arable, and were prepared for
cultivation; in many places the plough had already turned up the rich
earth, which soon would bear an abundant crop of golden grain. So a
future was marked out, that would present to Bastel's energetic and
powerful mind a far better and more useful source of employment than he
would ever have found in the old home of his childhood. Was he happy
now?

"Yes, father," he said, with beaming face, when one day Herr Brockmann
asked him this question, as he and his wife and Adelbert were spending
a few weeks with him, "I am thoroughly happy, because I am so exactly
in my proper place. I feel now that I am not quite a useless member of
society, and I thank you, my benefactor, daily and hourly, for placing
me in a position to do justice to myself. And Adelbert, is he also
happy and contented?"

"Ask him," answered Herr Brockmann, laughing, "ask him if he will
change places with you, and take the axe again? Here he comes."

Adelbert came up to them with such a beaming, happy face, that Bastel
thought there was no need to ask the question. But Herr Brockmann did.

"No, no," said Adelbert, laughing heartily, "let it be as it is. We
have each of us found our proper place, and let us keep to it. You go
on charcoal-burning, Bastel, and I will continue to take care that the
produce of your industry is disposed of to the best advantage."

"Yes," said Herr Brockmann, "it is best as it is. Let each one remain
in his own place, upright, industrious, and contented, and then
happiness will never fail him. Adelbert could never be truly happy here
in the forest, nor Bastel in the city, therefore 'every man in his
place' is the best arrangement, when that position is honourable, and
pleasing to God: He has done all things well, and let us thank Him as
long as we have breath, with humble and grateful hearts."

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*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77915 ***