From the old and pleasantly situated village
of Mayenfeld, a footpath winds through
green and shady meadows to the foot of the
mountains, which on this side look down
from their stern and lofty heights upon the
valley below. The land grows gradually
wilder as the path ascends, and the climber
has not gone far before he begins to inhale
the fragrance of the short grass and sturdy
mountain-plants, for the way is steep and
leads directly up to the summits above.

On a clear sunny morning in June two
figures might be seen climbing the narrow
mountain path; one, a tall strong-looking
girl, the other a child whom she was leading
by the hand, and whose little checks were
so aglow with heat that the crimson color
could be seen even through the dark,
sunburnt skin. And this was hardly to be
wondered at, for in spite of the hot June sun
the child was clothed as if to keep off the
bitterest frost. She did not look more than
five years old, if as much, but what her
natural figure was like, it would have been
hard to say, for she had apparently two, if
not three dresses, one above the other, and
over these a thick red woollen shawl wound
round about her, so that the little body
presented a shapeless appearance, as,
with its small feet shod in thick, nailed
mountain-shoes, it slowly and laboriously
plodded its way up in the heat. The two must
have left the valley a good hour's walk
behind them, when they came to the hamlet

-1-

"The child stay up there with Alm-Uncle! You
must be out of your senses, Dete! How can
you think of such a thing! The old man,
however, will soon send you and your
proposal packing off home again!"

"He cannot very well do that, seeing that he
is her grandfather. He must do something
for her. I have had the charge of the child till
now, and I can tell you, Barbel, I am not
going to give up the chance which has just
fallen to me of getting a good place, for her
sake. It is for the grandfather now to do his
duty by her."

"That would be all very well if he were like
other people," asseverated stout Barbel
warmly, "but you know what he is. And what
can he do with a child, especially with one
so young! The child cannot possibly live with
him. But where are you thinking of going
yourself?"

"To Frankfurt, where an extra good place
awaits me," answered Dete. "The people I
am going to were down at the Baths last
summer, and it was part of my duty to attend
upon their rooms. They would have liked
then to take me away with them, but I could
not leave. Now they are there again and
have repeated their offer, and I intend to go
with them, you may make up your mind to
that!"

"I am glad I am not the child!" exclaimed
Barbel, with a gesture of horrified pity. "Not
a creature knows anything about the old
man up there! He will have nothing to do
with anybody, and never sets his foot inside
a church from one year's end to another.
When he does come down once in a while,
everybody clears out of the way of him and
his big stick. The mere sight of him, with his
bushy grey eyebrows and his immense
beard, is alarming enough. He looks like
any old heathen or Indian, and few would

-2-

year before, and had then gone over to the
Baths at Ragatz and taken service in the
large hotel there as chambermaid. On the
morning of this day she had come all the
way from Ragatz with the child, a friend
having given them a lift in a hay-cart as far
as Mayenfeld. Barbel was therefore
determined not to lose this good opportunity
of satisfying her curiosity. She put her arm
through Dete's in a confidential sort of way,
and said: "I know I can find out the real truth
from you, and the meaning of all these tales
that are afloat about him. I believe you know
the whole story. Now do just tell me what is
wrong with the old man, and if he was
always shunned as he is now, and was
always such a misanthrope."

"How can I possibly tell you whether he was
always the same, seeing I am only six-and-
twenty and he at least seventy years of age;
so you can hardly expect me to know much
about his youth. If I was sure, however, that
what I tell you would not go the whole round
of Prattigau, I could relate all kinds of things
about him; my mother came from
Domleschg, and so did he."

"Nonsense, Dete, what do you mean?"
replied Barbel, somewhat offended,
"gossip has not reached such a dreadful
pitch in Prattigau as all that, and I am also
quite capable of holding my tongue when it
is necessary."

"Very well then, I will tell you--but just wait a
moment," said Dete in a warning voice, and
she looked back to make sure that the child
was not near enough to hear all she was
going to relate; but the child was nowhere to
be seen, and must have turned aside from
following her companions some time
before, while these were too eagerly
occupied with their conversation to notice it.
Dete stood still and looked around her in all
directions. The footpath wound a little here

-3-

of him for twelve or fifteen years. At the end
of that time he reappeared in Domleschg,
bringing with him a young child, whom he
tried to place with some of his kinspeople.
Every door, however, was shut in his face,
for no one wished to have any more to do
with him. Embittered by this treatment, he
vowed never to set foot in Domleschg
again, and he then came to Dorfli, where he
continued to live with his little boy. His wife
was probably a native of the Grisons, whom
he had met down there, and who died soon
after their marriage. He could not have been
entirely without money, for he apprenticed
his son, Tobias, to a carpenter. He was a
steady lad, and kindly received by every one
in Dorfli. The old man was, however, still
looked upon with suspicion, and it was even
rumoured that he had been forced to make
his escape from Naples, or it might have
gone badly with him, for that he had killed a
man, not in fair fight, you understand, but in
some brawl. We, however, did not refuse to
acknowledge our relationship with him, my
great-grandmother on my mother's side
having been sister to his grandmother. So
we called him Uncle, and as through my
father we are also related to nearly every
family in Dorfli, he became known all over
the place as Uncle, and since he went to live
on the mountain side he has gone
everywhere by the name of Alm-Uncle."

"And what happened to Tobias?" asked
Barbel, who was listening with deep
interest.

"Wait a moment, I am coming to that, but I
cannot tell you everything at once," replied
Dete. "Tobias was taught his trade in Mels,
and when he had served his apprenticeship
he came back to Dorfli and married my
sister Adelaide. They had always been fond
of one another, and they got on very well
together after they were married. But their
happiness did not last long. Her husband

-4-

beyond words that you can think of doing
such a thing, Dete," said Barbel, in a voice
full of reproach.

"What do you mean?" retorted Dete. "I have
done my duty by the child, and what would
you have me do with it now? I cannot
certainly take a child of five years old with
me to Frankfurt. But where are you going to
yourself, Barbel; we are now half way up
the Alm?"

"We have just reached the place I wanted,"
answered Barbel. "I had something to say to
the goatherd's wife, who does some
spinning for me in the winter. So good-bye,
Dete, and good luck to you!"

Dete shook hands with her friend and
remained standing while Barbel went
towards a small, dark brown hut, which
stood a few steps away from the path in a
hollow that afforded it some protection from
the mountain wind. The hut was situated half
way up the Alm, reckoning from Dorfli, and
it was well that it was provided with some
shelter, for it was so broken-down and
dilapidated that even then it must have been
very unsafe as a habitation, for when the
stormy south wind came sweeping over the
mountain, everything inside it, doors and
windows, shook and rattled, and all the
rotten old beams creaked and trembled. On
such days as this, had the goatherd's
dwelling been standing above on the
exposed mountain side, it could not have
escaped being blown straight down into the
valley without a moment's warning.

Here lived Peter, the eleven-year-old boy,
who every morning went down to Dorfli to
fetch his goats and drive them up on to the
mountain, where they were free to browse
till evening on the delicious mountain plants.

Then Peter, with his light-footed animals,

-5-

a far and roundabout way, for Peter knew
many spots where all kinds of good food, in
the shape of shrubs and plants, grew for his
goats, and he was in the habit of leading his
flock aside from the beaten track. The child,
exhausted with the heat and weight of her
thick armor of clothes, panted and struggled
after him at first with some difficulty. She
said nothing, but her little eyes kept
watching first Peter, as he sprang nimbly
hither and thither on his bare feet, clad only
in his short light breeches, and then the slim-
legged goats that went leaping over rocks
and shrubs and up the steep ascents with
even greater ease. All at once she sat
herself down on the ground, and as fast as
her little fingers could move, began pulling
off her shoes and stockings. This done she
rose, unwound the hot red shawl and threw
it away, and then proceeded to undo her
frock. It was off in a second, but there was
still another to unfasten, for Dete had put the
Sunday frock on over the everyday one, to
save the trouble of carrying it. Quick as
lightning the everyday frock followed the
other, and now the child stood up, clad only
in her light short-sleeved under garment,
stretching out her little bare arms with glee.
She put all her clothes together in a tidy little
heap, and then went jumping and climbing
up after Peter and the goats as nimbly as
any one of the party. Peter had taken no
heed of what the child was about when she
stayed behind, but when she ran up to him in
her new attire, his face broke into a grin,
which grew broader still as he looked back
and saw the small heap of clothes lying on
the ground, until his mouth stretched almost
from ear to ear; he said nothing, however.
The child, able now to move at her ease,
began to enter into conversation with Peter,
who had many questions to answer, for his
companion wanted to know how many
goats he had, where he was going to with
them, and what he had to do when he
arrived there. At last, after some time, they

-6-

"Well, you won't get far if you only keep on
standing there with your eyes staring out of
your head," was Dete's cross reply; "but
see, you shall have something nice," and
she held out a bright new piece of money to
him that sparkled in the sun. Peter was
immediately up and off down the steep
mountain side, taking the shortest cut, and
in an incredibly short space of time had
reached the little heap of clothes, which he
gathered up under his arm, and was back
again so quickly that even Dete was obliged
to give him a word of praise as she handed
him the promised money. Peter promptly
thrust it into his pocket and his face beamed
with delight, for it was not often that he was
the happy possessor of such riches.

You can carry the things up for me as far as
Uncle's, as you are going the same way,"
went on Dete, who was preparing to
continue her climb up the mountain side,
which rose in a steep ascent immediately
behind the goatherd's hut. Peter willingly
undertook to do this, and followed after her
on his bare feet, with his left arm round the
bundle and the right swinging his
goatherd's stick, while Heidi and the goats
went skipping and jumping joyfully beside
him. After a climb of more than three-
quarters of an hour they reached the top of
the Alm mountain. Uncle's hut stood on a
projection of the rock, exposed indeed to
the winds, but where every ray of sun could
rest upon it, and a full view could be had of
the valley beneath. Behind the hut stood
three old fir trees, with long, thick, unlopped
branches. Beyond these rose a further wall
of mountain, the lower heights still
overgrown with beautiful grass and plants,
above which were stonier slopes, covered
only with scrub, that led gradually up to the
steep, bare rocky summits.

Against the hut, on the side looking towards
the valley, Uncle had put up a seat. Here he

-7-

looked at her with a flash in his eye. "And
when the child begins to fret and whine after
you, as is the way with these unreasonable
little beings, what am I to do with her then?"

"That's your affair," retorted Dete. "I know I
had to put up with her without complaint
when she was left on my hands as an infant,
and with enough to do as it was for my
mother and self. Now I have to go and look
after my own earnings, and you are the next
of kin to the child. If you cannot arrange to
keep her, do with her as you like. You will be
answerable for the result if harm happens to
her, though you have hardly need, I should
think, to add to the burden already on your
conscience."

Now Dete was not quite easy in her own
conscience about what she was doing, and
consequently was feeling hot and irritable,
and said more than she had intended. As
she uttered her last words, Uncle rose from
his seat. He looked at her in a way that
made her draw back a step or two, then
flinging out his arm, he said to her in a
commanding voice: "Be off with you this
instant, and get back as quickly as you can
to the place whence you came, and do not
let me see your face again in a hurry."

Dete did not wait to be told twice. "Good-
bye to you then, and to you too, Heidi," she
called, as she turned quickly away and
started to descend the mountain at a
running pace, which she did not slacken till
she found herself safely again at Dorfli, for
some inward agitation drove her forwards
as if a steam-engine was at work inside
her. Again questions came raining down
upon her from all sides, for every one knew
Dete, as well as all particulars of the birth
and former history of the child, and all
wondered what she had done with it. From
every door and window came voices
calling: "Where is the child?" "Where have

-8-

grandfather was sitting. Seeing that he was
in exactly the same position as when she
left him, she went and placed herself in front
of the old man, and putting her hands
behind her back, stood and gazed at him.
Her grandfather looked up, and as she
continued standing there without moving,
"What is it you want?" he asked.

"I want to see what you have inside the
house," said Heidi.

"Come then!" and the grandfather rose and
went before her towards the hut.

"Bring your bundle of clothes in with you," he
bid her as she was following.

"I shan't want them any more," was her
prompt answer.

The old man turned and looked searchingly
at the child, whose dark eyes were
sparkling in delighted anticipation of what
she was going to see inside. "She is
certainly not wanting in intelligence," he
murmured to himself. "And why shall you not
want them any more?" he asked aloud.

"Because I want to go about like the goats
with their thin light legs."

"Well, you can do so if you like," said her
grandfather, "but bring the things in, we
must put them in the cupboard."

Heidi did as she was told. The old man now
opened the door and Heidi stepped inside
after him; she found herself in a good sized
room, which covered the whole ground floor
of the hut. A table and a chair were the only
furniture; in one corner stood the
grandfather's bed, in another was the
hearth with a large kettle hanging above it;
and on the further side was a large door in
the wall--this was the cupboard. The

-9-

he drew out a long, coarse piece of stuff,
which was all he had to do duty for a sheet.
He carried it up to the loft, where he found
Heidi had already made quite a nice bed.
She had put an extra heap of hay at one end
for a pillow, and had so arranged it that,
when in bed, she would be able to see
comfortably out through the round window.

"That is capital," said her grandfather; "now
we must put on the sheet, but wait a
moment first," and he went and fetched
another large bundle of hay to make the bed
thicker, so that the child should not feel the
hard floor under her--"there, now bring it
here." Heidi had got hold of the sheet, but it
was almost too heavy for her to carry; this
was a good thing, however, as the close
thick stuff would prevent the sharp stalks of
the hay running through and pricking her.
The two together now spread the sheet over
the bed, and where it was too long or too
broad, Heidi quickly tucked it in under the
hay. It looked now as tidy and comfortable a
bed as you could wish for, and Heidi stood
gazing thoughtfully at her handiwork.

"We have forgotten something now,
grandfather," she said after a short silence.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A coverlid; when you get into bed, you have
to creep in between the sheets and the
coverlid."

"Oh, that's the way, is it? But suppose I have
not got a coverlid?" said the old man.

"Well, never mind, grandfather," said Heidi
in a consoling tone of voice, "I can take
some more hay to put over me," and she
was turning quickly to fetch another armful
from the heap, when her grandfather
stopped her. "Wait a moment," he said, and
he climbed down the ladder again and went

-10-

curiosity. Suddenly some new idea seemed
to come into her head, for she turned and
ran to the cupboard, and then began going
busily backwards and forwards. Presently
the grandfather got up and came to the table
with a jug and the cheese, and there he saw
it already tidily laid with the round loaf and
two plates and two knives each in its right
place; for Heidi had taken exact note that
morning of all that there was in the
cupboard, and she knew which things
would be wanted for their meal.

"Ah, that's right," said the grandfather, "I am
glad to see that you have some ideas of
your own," and as he spoke he laid the
toasted cheese on a layer of bread, "but
there is still something missing."

Heidi looked at the jug that was steaming
away invitingly, and ran quickly back to the
cupboard. At first she could only see a small
bowl left on the shelf, but she was not long in
perplexity, for a moment later she caught
sight of two glasses further back, and
without an instant's loss of time she
returned with these and the bowl and put
them down on the table.

"Good, I see you know how to set about
things; but what will you do for a seat?" The
grandfather himself was sitting on the only
chair in the room. Heidi flew to the hearth,
and dragging the three-legged stool up to
the table, sat herself down upon it.

"Well, you have managed to find a seat for
yourself, I see, only rather a low one I am
afraid," said the grandfather, "but you would
not be tall enough to reach the table even if
you sat in my chair; the first thing now,
however, is to have something to eat, so
come along."

With that he stood up, filled the bowl with
milk, and placing it on the chair, pushed it in

-11-

said the child, still lost in wonder and
admiration.

"She understands what she sees, her eyes
are in the right place," remarked the
grandfather to himself, as he continued his
way round the hut, knocking in a nail here
and there, or making fast some part of the
door, and so with hammer and nails and
pieces of wood going from spot to spot,
mending or clearing away wherever work of
the kind was needed. Heidi followed him
step by step, her eyes attentively taking in all
that he did, and everything that she saw was
a fresh source of pleasure to her.

And so the time passed happily on till
evening. Then the wind began to roar louder
than ever through the old fir trees; Heidi
listened with delight to the sound, and it
filled her heart so full of gladness that she
skipped and danced round the old trees, as
if some unheard of joy had come to her. The
grandfather stood and watched her from the
shed.

Suddenly a shrill whistle was heard. Heidi
paused in her dancing, and the grandfather
came out. Down from the heights above the
goats came springing one after another,
with Peter in their midst. Heidi sprang
forward with a cry of joy and rushed among
the flock, greeting first one and then another
of her old friends of the morning. As they
neared the hut the goats stood still, and then
two of their number, two beautiful slender
animals, one white and one brown, ran
forward to where the grandfather was
standing and began licking his hands, for he
was holding a little salt which he always had
ready for his goats on their return home.
Peter disappeared with the remainder of
his flock. Heidi tenderly stroked the two
goats in turn, running first to one side of
them and then the other, and jumping about
in her glee at the pretty little animals. "Are

-12-

very early hour during these summer
months. The wind grew so tempestuous
during the night, and blew in such gusts
against the walls, that the hut trembled and
the old beams groaned and creaked. It
came howling and wailing down the
chimney like voices of those in pain, and it
raged with such fury among the old fir trees
that here and there a branch was snapped
and fell. In the middle of the night the old
man got up. "The child will be frightened," he
murmured half aloud. He mounted the
ladder and went and stood by the child's
bed.

Outside the moon was struggling with the
dark, fast-driving clouds, which at one
moment left it clear and shining, and the
next swept over it, and all again was dark.
Just now the moonlight was falling through
the round window straight on to Heidi's bed.
She lay under the heavy coverlid, her
cheeks rosy with sleep, her head peacefully
resting on her little round arm, and with a
happy expression on her baby face as if
dreaming of something pleasant. The old
man stood looking down on the sleeping
child until the moon again disappeared
behind the clouds and he could see no
more, then he went back to bed.

Chapter III: Out with the Goats

Heidi was awakened early the next morning
by a loud whistle; the sun was shining
through the round window and falling in
golden rays on her bed and on the large
heap of hay, and as she opened her eyes
everything in the loft seemed gleaming with
gold. She looked around her in
astonishment and could not imagine for a
while where she was. But her grandfather's
deep voice was now heard outside, and
then Heidi began to recall all that had
happened: how she had come away from
her former home and was now on the

-13-

"Open it," said the old man, and inside it he
put a large piece of bread and an equally
large piece of cheese, which made Peter
open his eyes, for each was twice the size
of the two portions which he had for his own
dinner.

"There, now there is only the little bowl to
add," continued the grandfather, "for the
child cannot drink her milk as you do from
the goat; she is not accustomed to that. You
must milk two bowlfuls for her when she has
her dinner, for she is going with you and will
remain with you till you return this evening;
but take care she does not fall over any of
the rocks, do you hear?"

Heidi now came running in. "Will the sun
laugh at me now, grandfather?" she asked
anxiously. Her grandfather had left a coarse
towel hanging up for her near the tub, and
with this she had so thoroughly scrubbed
her face, arms, and neck, for fear of the
sun, that as she stood there she was as red
all over as a lobster. He gave a little laugh.

"No, there is nothing for him to laugh at
now," he assured her. "But I tell you what--
when you come home this evening, you will
have to get right into the tub, like a fish, for if
you run about like the goats you will get your
feet dirty. Now you can be off."

She started joyfully for the mountain. During
the night the wind had blown away all the
clouds; the dark blue sky was spreading
overhead, and in its midst was the bright
sun shining down on the green slopes of the
mountain, where the flowers opened their
little blue and yellow cups, and looked up to
him smiling. Heidi went running hither and
thither and shouting with delight, for here
were whole patches of delicate red
primroses, and there the blue gleam of the
lovely gentian, while above them all laughed
and nodded the tender-leaved golden

-14-

topmost peak of all the old bird of prey sits
and croaks."

That did it. Heidi immediately sprang to her
feet and ran up to Peter with her apron full of
flowers.

"You have got enough now," said the boy as
they began climbing up again together. "You
will stay here forever if you go on picking,
and if you gather all the flowers now there
will be none for to-morrow."

This last argument seemed a convincing
one to Heidi, and moreover her apron was
already so full that there was hardly room for
another flower, and it would never do to
leave nothing to pick for another day. So
she now kept with Peter, and the goats also
became more orderly in their behavior, for
they were beginning to smell the plants they
loved that grew on the higher slopes and
clambered up now without pause in their
anxiety to reach them. The spot where Peter
generally halted for his goats to pasture and
where he took up his quarters for the day lay
at the foot of the high rocks, which were
covered for some distance up by bushes
and fir trees, beyond which rose their bare
and rugged summits. On one side of the
mountain the rock was split into deep clefts,
and the grandfather had reason to warn
Peter of danger. Having climbed as far as
the halting-place, Peter unslung his wallet
and put it carefully in a little hollow of the
ground, for he knew what the wind was like
up there and did not want to see his
precious belongings sent rolling down the
mountain by a sudden gust. Then be threw
himself at full length on the warm ground, for
he was tired after all his exertions.

Heidi meanwhile had unfastened her apron
and rolling it carefully round the flowers laid
it beside Peter's wallet inside the hollow;
she then sat down beside his outstretched

-15-

"Home to its nest," said Peter.

"Is his home right up there? Oh, how nice to
be up so high! why does he make that
noise?"

"Because he can't help it," explained Peter.

"Let us climb up there and see where his
nest is," proposed Heidi.

"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed Peter, his
disapproval of Heidi's suggestion
becoming more marked with each
ejaculation, "why even the goats cannot
climb as high as that, besides didn't Uncle
say that you were not to fall over the rocks?"

Peter now began suddenly whistling and
calling in such a loud manner that Heidi
could not think what was happening; but the
goats evidently understood his voice, for
one after the other they came springing
down the rocks until they were all
assembled on the green plateau, some
continuing to nibble at the juicy stems,
others skipping about here and there or
pushing at each other with their horns for
pastime.

Heidi jumped up and ran in and out among
them, for it was new to her to see the goats
playing together like this and her delight
was beyond words as she joined in their
frolics; she made personal acquaintance
with them all in turn, for they were like
separate individuals to her, each single
goat having a particular way of behavior of
its own. Meanwhile Peter had taken the
wallet out of the hollow and placed the
pieces of bread and cheese on the ground
in the shape of a square, the larger two on
Heidi's side and the smaller on his own, for
he knew exactly which were hers and which
his. Then he took the little bowl and milked
some delicious fresh milk into it from the

-16-

anything he had. He hesitated a moment,
for he could not believe that Heidi was in
earnest; but the latter kept on holding out the
bread and cheese, and as Peter still did not
take it, she laid it down on his knees. He
saw then that she really meant it; he seized
the food, nodded his thanks and
acceptance of her present, and then made
a more splendid meal than he had known
ever since he was a goat-herd. Heidi the
while still continued to watch the goats. "Tell
me all their names," she said.

Peter knew these by heart, for having very
little else to carry in his head he had no
difficulty in remembering them. So he
began, telling Heidi the name of each goat
in turn as he pointed it out to her. Heidi
listened with great attention, and it was not
long before she could herself distinguish the
goats from one another and could call each
by name, for every goat had its own
peculiarities which could not easily be
mistaken; only one had to watch them
closely, and this Heidi did. There was the
great Turk with his big horns, who was
always wanting to butt the others, so that
most of them ran away when they saw him
coming and would have nothing to do with
their rough companion. Only Greenfinch, the
slender nimble little goat, was brave enough
to face him, and would make a rush at him,
three or four times in succession, with such
agility and dexterity, that the great Turk often
stood still quite astounded not venturing to
attack her again, for Greenfinch was
fronting him, prepared for more warlike
action, and her horns were sharp. Then
there was little White Snowflake, who
bleated in such a plaintive and beseeching
manner that Heidi already had several times
run to it and taken its head in her hands to
comfort it. Just at this moment the pleading
young cry was heard again, and Heidi
jumped up running and, putting her arms
round the little creature's neck, asked in a

-17-

The goats were now beginning to climb the
rocks again, each seeking for the plants it
liked in its own fashion, some jumping over
everything they met till they found what they
wanted, others going more carefully and
cropping all the nice leaves by the way, the
Turk still now and then giving the others a
poke with his horns. Little Swan and Little
Bear clambered lightly up and never failed
to find the best bushes, and then they would
stand gracefully poised on their pretty legs,
delicately nibbling at the leaves. Heidi stood
with her hands behind her back, carefully
noting all they did.

"Peter," she said to the boy who had again
thrown himself down on the ground, "the
prettiest of all the goats are Little Swan and
Little Bear."

"Yes, I know they are," was the answer.
"Alm-Uncle brushes them down and
washes them and gives them salt, and he
has the nicest shed for them."

All of a sudden Peter leaped to his feet and
ran hastily after the goats. Heidi followed
him as fast as she could, for she was too
eager to know what had happened to stay
behind. Peter dashed through the middle of
the flock towards that side of the mountain
where the rocks fell perpendicularly to a
great depth below, and where any
thoughtless goat, if it went too near, might
fall over and break all its legs. He had
caught sight of the inquisitive Greenfinch
taking leaps in that direction, and he was
only just in time, for the animal had already
sprung to the edge of the abyss. All Peter
could do was to throw himself down and
seize one of her hind legs. Greenfinch, thus
taken by surprise, began bleating furiously,
angry at being held so fast and prevented
from continuing her voyage of discovery.
She struggled to get loose, and endeavored
so obstinately to leap forward that Peter

-18-

ready consent to his demand. "And I will
give you bread as well, a large piece like
you had to-day; but then you must promise
never to beat Greenfinch, or Snowflake, or
any of the goats."

"All right," said Peter, "I don't care," which
meant that he would agree to the bargain.
He now let go of Greenfinch, who joyfully
sprang to join her companions.

And thus imperceptibly the day had crept on
to its close, and now the sun was on the
point of sinking out of sight behind the high
mountains. Heidi was again sitting on the
ground, silently gazing at the blue bell-
shaped flowers, as they glistened in the
evening sun, for a golden light lay on the
grass and flowers, and the rocks above
were beginning to shine and glow. All at
once she sprang to her feet, "Peter! Peter!
everything is on fire! All the rocks are
burning, and the great snow mountain and
the sky! O look, look! the high rock up there
is red with flame! O the beautiful, fiery
snow! Stand up, Peter! See, the fire has
reached the great bird's nest! look at the
rocks! look at the fir trees! Everything,
everything is on fire!"

"It is always like that," said Peter
composedly, continuing to peel his stick;
"but it is not really fire."

"What is it then?" cried Heidi, as she ran
backwards and forwards to look first one
side and then the other, for she felt she
could not have enough of such a beautiful
sight. "What is it, Peter, what is it?" she
repeated.

"It gets like that of itself," explained Peter.

"Look, look!" cried Heidi in fresh
excitement, "now they have turned all rose
color! Look at that one covered with snow,

-19-

"Come with me again to-morrow! Good-
night!" For he was anxious for more than
one reason that Heidi should go with him the
next day.

Heidi ran back quickly and gave Peter her
hand, promising to go with him, and then
making her way through the goats she once
more clasped Snowflake round the neck,
saying in a gentle soothing voice, "Sleep
well, Snowflake, and remember that I shall
be with you again to-morrow, so you must
not bleat so sadly any more." Snowflake
gave her a friendly and grateful look, and
then went leaping joyfully after the other
goats.

Heidi returned to the fir-trees. "O
grandfather," she cried, even before she
had come up to him, "it was so beautiful.
The fire, and the roses on the rocks, and the
blue and yellow flowers, and look what I
have brought you!" And opening the apron
that held her flowers she shook them all out
at her grandfather's feet. But the poor
flowers, how changed they were! Heidi
hardly knew them again. They looked like
dry bits of hay, not a single little flower cup
stood open. "O grandfather, what is the
matter with them?" exclaimed Heidi in
shocked surprise, "they were not like that
this morning, why do they look so now?"

"They like to stand out there in the sun and
not to be shut up in an apron," said her
grandfather.

"Then I will never gather any more. But,
grandfather, why did the great bird go on
croaking so?" she continued in an eager
tone of inquiry.

"Go along now and get into your bath while I
go and get some milk; when we are
together at supper I will tell you all about it."

-20-

had all been, and particularly described the
fire that had burst out everywhere in the
evening. And then nothing would do but her
grandfather must tell how it came, for Peter
knew nothing about it.

The grandfather explained to her that it was
the sun that did it. "When he says good-night
to the mountains he throws his most
beautiful colors over them, so that they may
not forget him before he comes again the
next day."

Heidi was delighted with this explanation,
and could hardly bear to wait for another
day to come that she might once more climb
up with the goats and see how the sun bid
good-night to the mountains. But she had to
go to bed first, and all night she slept
soundly on her bed of hay, dreaming of
nothing but of shining mountains with red
roses all over them, among which happy
little Snowflake went leaping in and out.

Chapter IV: The Visit to Grandmother

The next morning the sun came out early as
bright as ever, and then Peter appeared
with the goats, and again the two children
climbed up together to the high meadows,
and so it went on day after day till Heidi,
passing her life thus among the grass and
flowers, was burnt brown with the sun, and
grew so strong and healthy that nothing ever
ailed her. She was happy too, and lived
from day to day as free and lighthearted as
the little birds that make their home among
the green forest trees. Then the autumn
came, and the wind blew louder and
stronger, and the grandfather would say
sometimes, "To-day you must stay at
home, Heidi; a sudden gust of the wind
would blow a little thing like you over the
rocks into the valley below in a moment."

Whenever Peter heard that he must go alone

-21-

indoors when she heard the branches
waving outside.

Then it grew very cold, and Peter would
come up early in the morning blowing on his
fingers to keep them warm. But he soon left
off coming, for one night there was a heavy
fall of snow and the next morning the whole
mountain was covered with it, and not a
single little green leaf was to be seen
anywhere upon it. There was no Peter that
day, and Heidi stood at the little window
looking out in wonderment, for the snow
was beginning again, and the thick flakes
kept falling till the snow was up to the
window, and still they continued to fall, and
the snow grew higher, so that at last the
window could not be opened, and she and
her grandfather were shut up fast within the
hut. Heidi thought this was great fun and ran
from one window to the other to see what
would happen next, and whether the snow
was going to cover up the whole hut, so that
they would have to light a lamp although it
was broad daylight. But things did not get as
bad as that, and the next day, the snow
having ceased, the grandfather went out
and shovelled away the snow round the
house, and threw it into such great heaps
that they looked like mountains standing at
intervals on either side the hut. And now the
windows and door could be opened, and it
was well it was so, for as Heidi and her
grandfather were sitting one afternoon on
their three-legged stools before the fire
there came a great thump at the door
followed by several others, and then the
door opened. It was Peter, who had made
all that noise knocking the snow off his
shoes; he was still white all over with it, for
he had had to fight his way through deep
snowdrifts, and large lumps of snow that
had frozen upon him still clung to his clothes.
He had been determined, however, not to
be beaten and to climb up to the hut, for it
was a week now since he had seen Heidi.

-22-

fire for some time and must want some
refreshment, come and join us," he said at
last, and as he spoke he rose and went to
fetch the supper out of the cupboard, and
Heidi pushed the stools to the table. There
was also now a bench fastened against the
wall, for as he was no longer alone the
grandfather had put up seats of various
kinds here and there, long enough to hold
two persons, for Heidi had a way of always
keeping close to her grandfather whether
he was walking, sitting or standing. So
there was comfortable place for them all
three, and Peter opened his round eyes
very wide when he saw what a large piece
of meat Alm-Uncle gave him on his thick
slice of bread. It was a long time since Peter
had had anything so nice to eat. As soon as
the pleasant meal was over Peter began to
get ready for returning home, for it was
already growing dark. He had said his
"good-night" and his thanks, and was just
going out, when he turned again and said, "I
shall come again next Sunday, this day
week, and grandmother sent word that she
would like you to come and see her one
day."

It was quite a new idea to Heidi that she
should go and pay anybody a visit, and she
could not get it out of her head; so the first
thing she said to her grandfather the next
day was, "I must go down to see the
grandmother to-day; she will be expecting
me."

"The snow is too deep," answered the
grandfather, trying to put her off. But Heidi
had made up her mind to go, since the
grandmother had sent her that message.
She stuck to her intention and not a day
passed but what in the course of it she said
five or six times to her grandfather, "I must
certainly go to-day, the grandmother will be
waiting for me."

-23-

hut. Her grandfather lifted her out and
unwrapped her. "There you are, now go in,
and when it begins to grow dark you must
start on your way home again." Then he left
her and went up the mountain, pulling his
sleigh after him.

Heidi opened the door of the hut and
stepped into a tiny room that looked very
dark, with a fireplace and a few dishes on a
wooden shelf; this was the little kitchen. She
opened another door, and now found
herself in another small room, for the place
was not a herdsman's hut like her
grandfather's, with one large room on the
ground floor and a hay-loft above, but a very
old cottage, where everything was narrow
and poor and shabby. A table was close to
the door, and as Heidi stepped in she saw a
woman sitting at it, putting a patch on a
waistcoat which Heidi recognised at once
as Peter's. In the corner sat an old woman,
bent with age, spinning. Heidi was quite
sure this was the grandmother, so she went
up to the spinning-wheel and said, "Good
day, grandmother, I have come at last; did
you think I was a long time coming?"

The woman raised her head and felt for the
hand that the child held out to her, and when
she found it, she passed her own over it
thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then
said, "Are you the child who lives up with
Alm-Uncle, are you Heidi?"

"Yes, yes," answered Heidi, "I have just
come down in the sleigh with grandfather."

"Is it possible! Why your hands are quite
warm! Brigitta, did Alm Uncle come himself
with the child?"

Peter's mother had left her work and risen
from the table and now stood looking at
Heidi with curiosity, scanning her from head
to foot. "I do not know, mother, whether

-24-

awake in fear and trembling, thinking that
the whole place will give way and fall and kill
us. And there is not a creature to mend
anything for us, for Peter does not
understand such work."

"But why cannot you see, grandmother, that
the shutter is loose. Look, there it goes
again, see, that one there!" And Heidi
pointed to the particular shutter.

"Alas, child, it is not only that I cannot see--I
can see, nothing, nothing," said the
grandmother in a voice of lamentation.

"But if I were to go outside and put back the
shutter so that you had more light, then you
could see, grandmother?"

"No, no, not even then, no one can make it
light for me again."

"But if you were to go outside among all the
white snow, then surely you would find it
light; just come with me, grandmother, and I
will show you." Heidi took hold of the old
woman's hand to lead her along, for she
was beginning to feel quite distressed at
the thought of her being without light.

"Let me be, dear child; it is always dark for
me now; whether in snow or sun, no light
can penetrate my eyes."

"But surely it does in summer,
grandmother," said Heidi, more and more
anxious to find some way out of the trouble,
"when the hot sun is shining down again,
and he says good-night to the mountains,
and they all turn on fire, and the yellow
flowers shine like gold, then, you will see, it
will be bright and beautiful for you again."

"Ah, child, I shall see the mountains on fire
or the yellow flowers no more; it will never
be light for me again on earth, never."

-25-

grew more and more animated as she
enumerated all the beautiful things which
were made so magically out of pieces of
wood; she then told the grandmother how
she stood by him and watched all he did,
and how she hoped some day to be able to
make the same herself.

The grandmother listened with the greatest
attention, only from time to time addressing
her daughter, "Do you hear that, Brigitta?
Do you hear what she is saying about
Uncle?"

The conversation was all at once interrupted
by a heavy thump on the door, and in
marched Peter, who stood stock-still,
opening his eyes with astonishment, when
he caught sight of Heidi; then his face
beamed with smiles as she called out,
"Good-evening, Peter."

"What, is the boy back from school already?"
exclaimed the grandmother in surprise. "I
have not known an afternoon pass so
quickly as this one for years. How is the
reading getting on, Peter?"

"Just the same," was Peter's answer.

The old woman gave a little sigh. "Ah, well,"
she said, "I hoped you would have
something different to tell me by this time,
as you are going to be twelve years old this
February."

"What was it that you hoped he would have
to tell you?" asked Heidi, interested in all the
grandmother said.

"I mean that he ought to have learnt to read a
bit by now," continued the grandmother. "Up
there on the shelf is an old prayer-book,
with beautiful songs in it which I have not
heard for a long time and cannot now
remember to repeat to myself, and I hoped

-26-

with Peter expressed her astonishment to
the grandmother. The latter was equally
surprised, and kept on saying, "God be
thanked that he is good to the child, God be
thanked! Will he let her come to me again, I
wonder! the child has done me so much
good. What a loving little heart it is, and how
merrily she tells her tale!" And she continued
to dwell with delight on the thought of the
child until she went to bed, still saying now
and again, "If only she will come again! Now
I have really something left in the world to
take pleasure in." And Brigitta agreed with
all her mother said, and Peter nodded his
head in approval each time his grandmother
spoke, saying, with a broad smile of
satisfaction, "I told you so!"

Meanwhile Heidi was chattering away to
her grandfather from inside her sack; her
voice, however, could not reach him through
the many thick folds of her wrap, and as
therefore it was impossible to understand a
word she was saying, he called to her, "Wait
till we get home, and then you can tell me all
about it." They had no sooner got inside the
hut than Heidi, having been released from
her covering, at once began what she had
to say, "Grandfather, to-morrow we must
take the hammer and the long nails and
fasten grandmother's shutter, and drive in a
lot more nails in other places, for her house
shakes and rattles all over."

"We must, must we? who told you that?"
asked her grandfather.

"Nobody told me, but I know it for all that,"
replied Heidi, "for everything is giving way,
and when the grandmother cannot sleep,
she lies trembling for fear at the noise, for
she thinks that every minute the house will
fall down on their heads; and everything
now is dark for grandmother, and she does
not think any one can make it light for her
again, but you will be able to, I am sure,

-27-

do not be frightened, it is only grandfather
with his hammer; he is mending up
everything, so that you shan't have such fear
and trouble."

"Is it possible! is it really possible! so the
dear God has not forgotten us!" exclaimed
the grandmother. "Do you hear, Brigitta,
what that noise is? Did you hear what the
child says? Now, as I listen, I can tell it is a
hammer; go outside, Brigitta, and if it is
Alm-Uncle, tell him he must come inside a
moment that I may thank him."

Brigitta went outside and found Alm-Uncle
in the act of fastening some heavy pieces of
new wood along the wall. She stepped up to
him and said, "Good-evening, Uncle,
mother and I have to thank you for doing us
such a kind service, and she would like to
tell you herself how grateful she is; I do not
know who else would have done it for us;
we shall not forget your kindness, for I am
sure--"

"That will do," said the old man, interrupting
her.

"I know what you think of Alm-Uncle without
your telling me. Go indoors again, I can find
out for myself where the mending is
wanted."

Brigitta obeyed on the spot, for Uncle had a
way with him that made few people care to
oppose his will. He went on knocking with
his hammer all round the house, and then
mounted the narrow steps to the roof, and
hammered away there, until he had used up
all the nails he had brought with him.
Meanwhile it had been growing dark, and
he had hardly come down from the roof and
dragged the sleigh out from behind the
goat-shed when Heidi appeared outside.
The grandfather wrapped her up and took
her in his arms as he had done the day

-28-

any objection, indeed he always carried the
hammer and sundry other things down in the
sleigh with him, and many an afternoon was
spent by him in making the goatherd's
cottage sound and tight. It no longer
groaned and rattled the whole night through,
and the grandmother, who for many winters
had not been able to sleep in peace as she
did now, said she should never forget what
the Uncle had done for her.

Chapter V: Two Visits and What Came of
Them

Quickly the winter passed, and still more
quickly the bright glad summer, and now
another winter was drawing to its close.
Heidi was still as light-hearted and happy
as the birds, and looked forward with more
delight each day to the coming spring, when
the warm south wind would roar through the
fir trees and blow away the snow, and the
warm sun would entice the blue and yellow
flowers to show their heads, and the long
days out on the mountain would come
again, which seemed to Heidi the greatest
joy that the earth could give. Heidi was now
in her eighth year; she had learnt all kinds of
useful things from her grandfather; she
knew how to look after the goats as well as
any one, and Little Swan and Bear would
follow her like two faithful dogs, and give a
loud bleat of pleasure when they heard her
voice. Twice during the course of this last
winter Peter had brought up a message
from the schoolmaster at Dorfli, who sent
word to Alm Uncle that he ought to send
Heidi to school, as she was over the usual
age, and ought indeed to have gone the
winter before. Uncle had sent word back
each time that the schoolmaster would find
him at home if he had anything he wished to
say to him, but that he did not intend to send
Heidi to school, and Peter had faithfully
delivered his message.

-29-

"Or I you," was the answer.

"I have come to-day to talk over something
with you," continued the pastor. "I think you
know already what it is that has brought me
here," and as he spoke he looked towards
the child who was standing at the door,
gazing with interest and surprise at the
stranger.

"Heidi, go off to the goats," said her
grandfather. "You take them a little salt and
stay with them till I come."

Heidi vanished on the spot.

"The child ought to have been at school a
year ago, and most certainly this last
winter," said the pastor. "The schoolmaster
sent you word about it, but you gave him no
answer. What are you thinking of doing with
the child, neighbor?"

"I am thinking of not sending her to school,"
was the answer.

The visitor, surprised, looked across at the
old man, who was sitting on his bench with
his arms crossed and a determined
expression about his whole person.

"How are you going to let her grow up then?"
he asked.

"I am going to let her grow up and be happy
among the goats and birds; with them she is
safe, and will learn nothing evil."

"But the child is not a goat or a bird, she is a
human being. If she learns no evil from
these comrades of hers, she will at the
same time learn nothing; but she ought not
to grow up in ignorance, and it is time she
began her lessons. I have come now that
you may have leisure to think over it, and to
arrange about it during the summer. This is

-30-

towards God and man! If anything were to
happen to you up here who would there be
to help you? I cannot think but what you must
be half-frozen to death in this hut in the
winter, and I do not know how the child lives
through it!"

"The child has young blood in her veins and
a good roof over her head, and let me
further tell the pastor, that I know where
wood is to be found, and when is the proper
time to fetch it; the pastor can go and look
inside my wood-shed; the fire is never out
in my hut the whole winter through. As to
going to live below that is far from my
thoughts; the people despise me and I
them; it is therefore best for all of us that we
live apart."

"No, no, it is not best for you; I know what it
is you lack," said the pastor in an earnest
voice. "As to the people down there looking
on you with dislike, it is not as bad as you
think. Believe me, neighbor; seek to make
your peace with God, pray for forgiveness
where you need it, and then come and see
how differently people will look upon you,
and how happy you may yet be."

The pastor had risen and stood holding out
his hand to the old man as he added with
renewed earnestness, "I will wager,
neighbor, that next winter you will be down
among us again, and we shall be good
neighbors as of old. I should be very grieved
if any pressure had to be put upon you; give
me your hand and promise me that you will
come and live with us again and become
reconciled to God and man."

Alm-Uncle gave the pastor his hand and
answered him calmly and firmly, "You mean
well by me I know, but as to that which you
wish me to do, I say now what I shall
continue to say, that I will not send the child
to school nor come and live among you."

-31-

finding a companion for her, and her
mistress was anxious to help in the matter,
as she felt so sympathetic about it. The lady-
housekeeper had described the sort of
child they wanted, simple-minded and
unspoilt, and not like most of the children
that one saw now-a days. Dete had thought
at once of Heidi and had gone off without
delay to see the lady-housekeeper, and
after Dete had given her a description of
Heidi, she had immediately agreed to take
her. And no one could tell what good fortune
there might not be in store for Heidi, for if
she was once with these people and they
took a fancy to her, and anything happened
to their own daughter--one could never tell,
the child was so weakly--and they did not
feel they could live without a child, why then
the most unheard of luck

"Have you nearly finished what you had to
say?" broke in Alm Uncle, who had allowed
her to talk on uninterruptedly so far.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Dete, throwing up her
head in disgust, "one would think I had been
talking to you about the most ordinary
matter; why there is not one person in all
Prattigau who would not thank God if I were
to bring them such a piece of news as I am
bringing you."

"You may take your news to anybody you
like, I will have nothing to do with it."

But now Dete leaped up from her seat like a
rocket and cried, "If that is all you have to
say about it, why then I will give you a bit of
my mind. The child is now eight years old
and knows nothing, and you will not let her
learn. You will not send her to church or
school, as I was told down in Dorfli, and she
is my own sister's child. I am responsible for
what happens to her, and when there is
such a good opening for a child, as this
which offers for Heidi, only a person who

-32-

goat; I suppose it's from the goats you have
learnt to be so. Listen to me: you saw your
grandfather was angry and heard what he
said, that he did not wish to see us ever
again; he wants you now to go away with
me and you must not make him angrier still.
You can't think how nice it is at Frankfurt,
and what a lot of things you will see, and if
you do not like it you can come back again;
your grandfather will be in a good temper
again by that time."

"Can I return at once and be back home
again here this evening?" asked Heidi.

"What are you talking about, come along
now! I tell you that you can come back here
when you like. To-day we shall go as far as
Mayenfeld, and early to-morrow we shall
start in the train, and that will bring you home
again in no time when you wish it, for it goes
as fast as the wind."

Dete had now got the bundle under her arm
and the child by the hand, and so they went
down the mountain together.

As it was still too early in the year to take his
goats out, Peter continued to go to school at
Dorfli, but now and again he stole a holiday,
for he could see no use in learning to read,
while to wander about a bit and look for
stout sticks which might be wanted some
day he thought a far better employment. As
Dete and Heidi neared the grandmother's
hut they met Peter coming round the corner;
he had evidently been well rewarded that
day for his labors, for he was carrying an
immense bundle of long thick hazel sticks
on his shoulders. He stood still and stared at
the two approaching figures; as they came
up to him, he exclaimed, "Where are you
going, Heidi?"

"I am only just going over to Frankfurt for a
little visit with Dete," she replied; "but I must

-33-

must go to her."

But Dete had no intention of letting the child
go, and quieted her as best she could; they
must make haste now, she said, or they
would be too late and not able to go on the
next day to Frankfurt, and there the child
would see how delightful it was, and Dete
was sure would not wish to go back when
she was once there. But if Heidi wanted to
return home she could do so at once, and
then she could take something she liked
back to grandmother. This was a new idea
to Heidi, and it pleased her so much that
Dete had no longer any difficulty in getting
her along.

After a few minutes' silence, Heidi asked,
"What could I take back to her?"

"We must think of something nice,"
answered Dete; "a soft roll of white bread;
she would enjoy that, for now she is old she
can hardly eat the hard, black bread."

"No, she always gives it back to Peter,
telling him it is too hard, for I have seen her
do it myself," affirmed Heidi. "Do let us
make haste, for then perhaps we can get
back soon from Frankfurt, and I shall be
able to give her the white bread to day." And
Heidi started off running so fast that Dete
with the bundle under her arm could
scarcely keep up with her. But she was
glad, nevertheless, to get along so quickly,
for they were nearing Dorfli, where her
friends would probably talk and question in
a way that might put other ideas into Heidi's
head. So she went on straight ahead
through the village, holding Heidi tightly by
the hand, so that they might all see that it
was on the child's account she was hurrying
along at such a rate. To all their questions
and remarks she made answer as she
passed "I can't stop now, as you see, I must
make haste with the child as we have yet

-34-

down in Dorfli; but most of the people who
heard it said that grandmother was too old
to understand, and very likely had not heard
rightly what was said; as she was blind she
was probably also deaf.

Alm-Uncle went no more now to the
grandmother's house, and it was well that
he had made it so safe, for it was not
touched again for a long time. The days
were sad again now for the old blind
woman, and not one passed but what she
would murmur complainingly, "Alas! all our
happiness and pleasure have gone with the
child, and now the days are so long and
dreary! Pray God, I see Heidi again once
more before I die!"

Chapter VI: A New Chapter about New
Things

In her home at Frankfurt, Clara, the little
daughter of Herr Sesemann, was lying on
the invalid couch on which she spent her
whole day, being wheeled in it from room to
room. Just now she was in what was known
as the study, where, to judge by the various
things standing and lying about, which
added to the cosy appearance of the room,
the family was fond of sitting. A handsome
bookcase with glass doors explained why it
was called the study, and here evidently the
little girl was accustomed to have her
lessons.

Clara's little face was thin and pale, and at
this moment her two soft blue eyes were
fixed on the clock, which seemed to her to
go very slowly this day, and with a slight
accent of impatience, which was very rare
with her, she asked, "Isn't it time yet,
Fraulein Rottenmeier?"

This lady was sitting very upright at a small
work-table, busy with her embroidery. She
had on a mysterious-looking loose

-35-

disappeared, but soon came back and
called down again to Dete, "Come up, she
is expecting you."

Dete and Heidi went upstairs and into the
study, Tinette following. Dete remained
standing politely near the door, still holding
Heidi tightly by the hand, for she did not
know what the child might take it into her
head to do amid these new surroundings.

Fraulein Rottenmeier rose slowly and went
up to the little new companion for the
daughter of the house, to see what she was
like. She did not seem very pleased with her
appearance. Heidi was dressed in her plain
little woollen frock, and her hat was an old
straw one bent out of shape. The child
looked innocently out from beneath it,
gazing with unconcealed astonishment at
the lady's towering head dress.

"What is your name?" asked Fraulen
Rottenmeier, after scrutinisingly examining
the child for some minutes, while Heidi in
return kept her eyes steadily fixed upon the
lady.

"Heidi," she answered in a clear, ringing
voice.

"What? what? that's no Christian name for a
child; you were not christened that. What
name did they give you when you were
baptized?" continued Frauleln Rottenmeier.

"I do not remember," replied Heidi.

"What a way to answer!" said the lady,
shaking her head. "Dete, is the child a
simpleton or only saucy?"

"If the lady will allow me, I will speak for the
child, for she is very unaccustomed to
strangers," said Dete, who had given Heidi
a silent poke for making such an unsuitable

-36-

"Mercy upon us! you do not know how to
read! Is it really so?" exclaimed Fraulein
Rottenmeier, greatly horrified. "Is it
possible--not able to read? What have you
learnt then?"

"Nothing," said Heidi with unflinching
truthfulness.

"Young woman," said the lady to Dete, after
having paused for a minute or two to
recover from her shock, "this is not at all the
sort of companion you led me to suppose;
how could you think of bringing me a child
like this?"

But Dete was not to be put down so easily,
and answered warmly, "If the lady will allow
me, the child is exactly what I thought she
required; the lady described what she
wished for, a child unlike all other children,
and I could find no other to suit, for the
greater number I know are not peculiar, but
one very much the same as the other, and I
thought this child seemed as if made for the
place. But I must go now, for my mistress
will be waiting for me; if the lady will permit I
will come again soon and see how she is
getting on." And with a bow Dete quickly left
the room and ran downstairs. Fraulein
Rottenmeier stood for a moment taken
aback and then ran after Dete. If the child
was to stop she had many things yet to say
and ask about her, and there the child was,
and what was more, Dete, as she plainly
saw, meant to leave her there.

Heidi remained by the door where she had
been standing since she first came in. Clara
had looked on during the interview without
speaking; now she beckoned to Heidi and
said, "Come here!"

Heidi went up to her.

"Would you rather be called Heidi or

-37-

and listen while you learn to read."

Heidi shook her head doubtfully when she
heard of learning to read.

"Oh, nonsense, Heidi, of course you must
learn to read, everybody must, and my tutor
is very kind, and never cross, and he will
explain everything to you. But mind, when he
explains anything to you, you won't be able
to understand; but don't ask any questions,
or else he will go on explaining and you will
understand less than ever. Later when you
have learnt more and know about things
yourself, then you will begin to understand
what he meant."

Fraulein Rottenmeier now came back into
the room; she had not been able to overtake
Dete, and was evidently very much put out;
for she had wanted to go into more details
concerning the child, and to convince Dete
how misleading she had been, and how
unfit Heidi was as a companion for Clara;
she really did not know what to be about, or
how to undo the mischief, and it made her
all the more angry that she herself was
responsible for it, having consented to
Heidi being fetched. She ran backwards
and forwards in a state of agitation
between the study and the dining-room,
and then began scolding Sebastian, who
was standing looking at the table he had
just finished laying to see that nothing was
missing.

"You can finish your thoughts to-morrow
morning; make haste, or we shall get no
dinner to-day at all."

Then hurrying out she called Tinette, but in
such an ill tempered voice that the maid
came tripping forward with even more
mincing steps than usual, but she looked so
pert that even Fraulein Rottenmeier did not
venture to scold her, which only made her

-38-

mouse and without moving until he came up
to her side and handed her the dish of fish;
then she looked at the roll and asked, "Can I
have it?" Sebastian nodded, throwing a
side glance at Fraulein Rottenmeier to see
what effect this request would have upon
her. Heidi immediately seized the roll and
put it in her pocket. Sebastian's face
became convulsed, he was overcome with
inward laughter but knew his place too well
to laugh aloud. Mute and motionless he still
remained standing beside Heidi; it was not
his duty to speak, nor to move away until
she had helped herself. Heidi looked
wonderingly at him for a minute or two, and
then said, "Am I to eat some of that too?"
Sebastian nodded again. "Give me some
then," she said, looking calmly at her plate.
At this Sebastian's command of his
countenance became doubtful, and the dish
began to tremble suspiciously in his hands.

"You can put the dish on the table and come
back presently," said Fraulein Rottenmeier
with a severe expression of face.
Sebastian disappeared on the spot. "As for
you, Adelaide, I see I shall have to teach you
the first rules of behavior," continued the
lady-housekeeper with a sigh. "I will begin
by explaining to you how you are to conduct
yourself at table," and she went on to give
Heidi minute instructions as to all she was to
do. "And now," she continued, "I must make
you particularly understand that you are not
to speak to Sebastian at table, or at any
other time, unless you have an order to give
him, or a necessary question to put to him;
and then you are not to address him as if he
was some one belonging to you. Never let
me hear you speak to him in that way again!
It is the same with Tinette, and for myself
you are to address me as you hear others
doing. Clara must herself decide what you
are to call her."

"Why, Clara, of course," put the latter. Then

-39-

table; in the corner was a washstand, with
things upon it that Heidi had never seen in
her life before. But now all at once she
remembered that she was in Frankfurt;
everything that had happened the day
before came back to her, and finally she
recalled clearly the instructions that had
been given her by the lady-housekeeper,
as far as she had heard them. Heidi jumped
out of bed and dressed herself; then she ran
first to one window and then another; she
wanted to see the sky and country outside;
she felt like a bird in a cage behind those
great curtains. But they were too heavy for
her to put aside, so she crept underneath
them to get to the window. But these again
were so high that she could only just get her
head above the sill to peer out. Even then
she could not see what she longed for. In
vain she went first to one and then the other
of the windows--she could see nothing but
walls and windows and again walls and
windows. Heidi felt quite frightened. It was
still early, for Heidi was accustomed to get
up early and run out at once to see how
everything was looking, if the sky was blue
and if the sun was already above the
mountains, or if the fir trees were waving
and the flowers had opened their eyes. As a
bird, when it first finds itself in its bright new
cage, darts hither and thither, trying the bars
in turn to see if it cannot get through them
and fly again into the open, so Heidi
continued to run backwards and forwards,
trying to open first one and then the other of
the windows, for she felt she could not bear
to see nothing but walls and windows, and
somewhere outside there must be the
green grass, and the last unmelted snows
on the mountain slopes, which Heidi so
longed to see. But the windows remained
immovable, try what Heidi would to open
them, even endeavoring to push her little
fingers under them to lift them up; but it was
all no use. When after a while Heidi saw that
her efforts were fruitless, she gave up

-40-

Heidi sadly.

"Yes, they will," Clara assured her. "You
cannot open them, nor I either, but when you
see Sebastian you can ask him to open
one."

It was a great relief to Heidi to know that the
windows could be opened and that one
could look out, for she still felt as if she was
shut up in prison. Clara now began to ask
her questions about her home, and Heidi
was delighted to tell her all about the
mountain and the goats, and the flowery
meadows which were so dear to her.

Meanwhile her tutor had arrived; Fraulein
Rottenmeier, however, did not bring him
straight into the study but drew him first
aside into the dining-room, where she
poured forth her troubles and explained to
him the awkward position in which she was
placed, and how it had all come about. It
appeared that she had written some time
back to Herr Sesemann to tell him that his
daughter very much wished to have a
companion, and had added how desirable
she thought it herself, as it would be a spur
to Clara at her lessons and an amusement
for her in her playtime. Fraulein Rottenmeier
had privately wished for this arrangement
on her own behalf, as it would relieve her
from having always to entertain the sick girl
herself, which she felt at times was too
much for her. The father had answered that
he was quite willing to let his daughter have
a companion, provided she was treated in
every way like his own child, as he would
not have any child tormented or put upon
which was a very unnecessary remark," put
in Fraulein Rottenmeier, "for who wants to
torment children!" But now she went on to
explain how dreadfully she had been taken
in about the child, and related all the
unimaginable things of which she had
already been guilty, so that not only would

-41-

disappeared.

"Here's a state of things!" exclaimed
Fraulein Rottenmeier, wringing her hands.
"Table-cloth, books, work-basket,
everything lying in the ink! It was that
unfortunate child, I suppose!"

The tutor was standing looking down at the
havoc in distress; there was certainly only
one view to be taken of such a matter as this
and that an unfavorable one. Clara
meanwhile appeared to find pleasure in
such an unusual event and in watching the
results. "Yes, Heidi did it," she explained,
"but quite by accident; she must on no
account be punished; she jumped up in
such violent haste to get away that she
dragged the tablecloth along with her, and
so everything went over. There were a
number of vehicles passing, that is why she
rushed off like that; perhaps she has never
seen a carriage."

"Is it not as I said? She has not the smallest
notion about anything! not the slightest idea
that she ought to sit still and listen while her
lessons are going on. But where is the child
who has caused all this trouble? Surely she
has not run away! What would Herr
Sesemann say to me?" She ran out of the
room and down the stairs. There, at the
bottom, standing in the open door way, was
Heidi, looking in amazement up and down
the street.

"What are you doing? What are you thinking
of to run away like that?" called Fraulein
Rottenmeier.

"I heard the sound of the fir trees, but I
cannot see where they are, and now I
cannot hear them any more," answered
Heidi, looking disappointedly in the
direction whence the noise of the passing
carriages had reached her, and which to

-42-

to do; but she would require some help for
its accomplishment, and in view of this she
took her stand in the hall in front of the
dining-room door in order to intercept the
person she wanted. In a few minutes up
came Sebastian from the kitchen with a tray
of silver tea-things, which he had to put
away in the dining-room cupboard. As he
reached the top stairs Heidi went up to him
and addressed him in the formal manner
she had been ordered to use by Fraulein
Rottenmeier.

Sebastian looked surprised and said
somewhat curtly, "What is it you want,
miss?"

"I only wished to ask you something, but it is
nothing bad like this morning," said Heidi,
anxious to conciliate him, for she saw that
Sebastian was rather in a cross temper,
and quite thought that it was on account of
the ink she had spilt on the floor.

"Indeed, and why, I should first like to know,
do you address me like that?" replied
Sebastian, evidently still put out.

"Fraulein Rottenmeier told me always to
speak to you like that," said Heidi.

Then Sebastian laughed, which very much
astonished Heidi, who had seen nothing
amusing in the conversation, but Sebastian,
now he understood that the child was only
obeying orders, added in a friendly voice,
"What is it then that miss wants?"

It was now Heidi's turn to be a little put out,
and she said, "My name is not miss, it is
Heidi."

"Quite so, but the same lady has ordered
me to call you miss," explained Sebastian.

"Has she? oh, then I must be called so," said

-43-

window the tower had appeared so close
that she imagined she had only to run over
the road to reach it. But now, although she
ran along the whole length of the street, she
still did not get any nearer to it, and indeed
soon lost sight of it altogether; she turned
down another street, and went on and on,
but still no tower. She passed a great many
people, but they all seemed in such a hurry
that Heidi thought they had not time to tell
her which way to go. Then suddenly at one
of the street corners she saw a boy
standing, carrying a hand-organ on his
back and a funny-looking animal on his
arm. Heidi ran up to him and said, "Where is
the tower with the gold ball on the top?"

"I don't know," was the answer.

"Who can I ask to show me?" she asked
again.

"I don't know."

"Do you know any other church with a high
tower?"

"Yes, I know one."

"Come then and show it me."

"Show me first what you will give me for it,"
and the boy held out his hand as he spoke.
Heidi searched about in her pockets and
presently drew out a card on which was
painted a garland of beautiful red roses;
she looked at it first for a moment or two, for
she felt rather sorry to part with it; Clara had
only that morning made her a present of it--
but then, to look down into the valley and
see all the lovely green slopes! "There," said
Heidi, holding out the card, "would you like
to have that?"

The boy drew back his hand and shook his
head.

-44-

looked with surprise and then in anger at the
children, as he began scolding them: "What
do you mean by ringing me down like this?
Can't you read what is written over the bell,
'For those who wish to go up the tower'?"

The boy said nothing but pointed his finger
at Heidi. The latter answered, "But I do want
to go up the tower."

"What do you want up there?" said the old
man. "Has somebody sent you?"

"No," replied Heidi, "I only wanted to go up
that I might look down."

"Get along home with you and don't try this
trick on me again, or you may not come off
so easily a second time," and with that he
turned and was about to shut the door. But
Heidi took hold of his coat and said
beseechingly, "Let me go up, just once."

He looked around, and his mood changed
as he saw her pleading eyes; he took hold
of her hand and said kindly, "Well, if you
really wish it so much, I will take you."

The boy sat down on the church steps to
show that he was content to wait where he
was.

Hand in hand with the old man Heidi went up
the many steps of the tower; they became
smaller and smaller as they neared the top,
and at last came one very narrow one, and
there they were at the end of their climb. The
old man lifted Heidi up that she might look
out of the open window.

"There, now you can look down," he said.

Heidi saw beneath her a sea of roofs,
towers, and chimney-pots; she quickly
drew back her head and said in a sad,
disappointed voice, "It is not at all what I

-45-

in short, you can take away the whole lot if
you have room for them," for the old man
was only too glad to think he could get rid of
his kittens without more trouble.

Heidi could hardly contain herself for joy.
There would be plenty of room for them in
the large house, and then how astonished
and delighted Clara would be when she
saw the sweet little kittens.

"But how can I take them with me?" asked
Heidi, and was going quickly to see how
many she could carry away in her hands,
when the old cat sprang at her so fiercely
that she shrank back in fear.

"I will take them for you if you will tell me
where," said the old man, stroking the cat to
quiet her, for she was an old friend of his
that had lived with him in the tower for many
years.

"To Herr Sesemann's, the big house where
there is a gold dog's head on the door, with
a ring in its mouth," explained Heidi.

Such full directions as these were not really
needed by the old man, who had had
charge of the tower for many a long year
and knew every house far and near, and
moreover Sebastian was an acquaintance
of his.

"I know the house," he said, "but when shall I
bring them, and who shall I ask for?--you
are not one of the family, I am sure."

"No, but Clara will be so delighted when I
take her the kittens."

The old man wished now to go downstairs,
but Heidi did not know how to tear herself
away from the amusing spectacle.

"If I could just take one or two away with me!

-46-

"Make haste, little miss," said Sebastian
again; "go straight into the dining-room,
they are already at table; Fraulein
Rottenmeier looks like a loaded cannon.
What could make the little miss run off like
that?"

Heidi walked into the room. The lady
housekeeper did not look up, Clara did not
speak; there was an uncomfortable silence.
Sebastian pushed her chair up for her, and
when she was seated Fraulein
Rottenmeier, with a severe countenance,
sternly and solemnly addressed her: "I will
speak with you afterwards, Adelheid, only
this much will I now say, that you behaved in
a most unmannerly and reprehensible way
by running out of the house as you did,
without asking permission, without any one
knowing a word about it; and then to go
wandering about till this hour; I never heard
of such behavior before."

"Miau!" came the answer back.

This was too much for the lady's temper;
with raised voice she exclaimed, "You dare,
Adelheid, after your bad behavior, to
answer me as if it were a joke?"

"I did not--" began Heidi--"Miau! miau!"

Sebastian almost dropped his dish and
rushed out of the room.

"That will do," Fraulein Rottenmeier tried to
say, but her voice was almost stifled with
anger. "Get up and leave the room."

Heidi stood up frightened, and again made
an attempt to explain. "I really did not--"
"Miau! miau! miau!"

"But, Heidi," now put in Clara, "when you
see that it makes Fraulein Rottenmeier
angry, why do you keep on saying miau?"

-47-

pleasure in the thought of Fraulein
Rottenmeier being a little disturbed.

Not until some time had elapsed, and it was
nearing the hour for going to bed, did
Fraulein Rottenmeier venture to open the
door a crack and call through, "Have you
taken those dreadful little animals away,
Sebastian?"

He assured her twice that he had done so;
he had been hanging about the room in
anticipation of this question, and now
quickly and quietly caught up the kittens
from Clara's lap and disappeared with
them.

The castigatory sermon which Fraulein
Rottenmeier had held in reserve for Heidi
was put off till the following day, as she felt
too exhausted now after all the emotions
she had gone through of irritation, anger,
and fright, of which Heidi had unconsciously
been the cause. She retired without
speaking, Clara and Heidi following, happy
in their minds at knowing that the kittens
were lying in a comfortable bed.

Chapter VIII: There is Great Commotion in
the Large House

Sebastian had just shown the tutor into the
study on the following morning when there
came another and very loud ring at the bell,
which Sebastian ran quickly to answer.
"Only Herr Sesemann rings like that," he
said to himself; "he must have returned
home unexpectedly." He pulled open the
door, and there in front of him he saw a
ragged little boy carrying a hand-organ on
his back.

"What's the meaning of this?" said
Sebastian angrily. "I'll teach you to ring bells
like that! What do you want here?"

-48-

extraordinary and unexpected message.

"Let him come in at once," replied Clara; "he
must come in, must he not," she added,
turning to her tutor, "if he wishes so
particularly to see me?"

The boy was already inside the room, and
according to Sebastian's directions
immediately began to play his organ.
Fraulein Rottenmeier, wishing to escape
the A B C, had retired with her work to the
dining-room. All at once she stopped and
listened. Did those sounds come up from
the street? And yet they seemed so near!
But how could there be an organ playing in
the study? And yet--it surely was so. She
rushed to the other end of the long dining-
room and tore open the door. She could
hardly believe her eyes. There, in the middle
of the study, stood a ragged boy turning
away at his organ in the most energetic
manner. The tutor appeared to be making
efforts to speak, but his voice could not be
heard. Both children were listening
delightedly to the music.

"Leave off! leave off at once!" screamed
Fraulein Rottenmeier. But her voice was
drowned by the music. She was making a
dash for the boy, when she saw something
on the ground crawling towards her feet--a
dreadful dark object--a tortoise. At this
sight she jumped higher than she had for
many long years before, shrieking with all
her might, "Sebastian! Sebastian!"

The organ-player suddenly stopped, for this
time her voice had risen louder than the
music. Sebastian was standing outside
bent double with laughter, for he had been
peeping to see what was going on. By the
time he entered the room Fraulein
Rottenmeier had sunk into a chair.

"Take them all out, boy and animal! Get

-49-

basket was loose, and at this moment one,
two, three, and then two more, and again
more kittens came suddenly tumbling on to
the floor and racing about the room in every
direction, and with such indescribable
rapidity that it seemed as if the whole room
was full of them. They jumped over the
tutor's boots, bit at his trousers, climbed up
Fraulein Rottenmeier's dress, rolled about
her feet, sprang up on to Clara's couch,
scratching, scrambling, and mewing: it was
a sad scene of confusion. Clara,
meanwhile, pleased with their gambols,
kept on exclaiming, "Oh, the dear little
things! how pretty they are! Look, Heidi, at
this one; look, look, at that one over there!"
And Heidi in her delight kept running after
them first into one corner and then into the
other. The tutor stood up by the table not
knowing what to do, lifting first his right foot
and then his left to get it away from the
scrambling, scratching kittens. Fraulein
Rottenmeier was unable at first to speak at
all, so overcome was she with horror, and
she did not dare rise from her chair for fear
that all the dreadful little animals should
jump upon her at once. At last she found
voice to call loudly, "Tinette! Tinette!
Sebastian! Sebastian!"

They came in answer to her summons and
gathered up the kittens, by degrees they got
them all inside the basket again and then
carried them off to put with the other two.

To-day again there had been no opportunity
for gaping. Late that evening, when Fraulein
Rottenmeier had somewhat recovered from
the excitement of the morning, she sent for
the two servants, and examined them
closely concerning the events of the
morning. And then it came out that Heidi
was at the bottom of them, everything being
the result of her excursion of the day before.
Fraulein Rottenmeier sat pale with
indignation and did not know at first how to

-50-

everything had been topsy turvy, and she
could not bring things into proper order
again. Clara had grown much more
cheerful; she no longer found time hang
heavy during the lesson hours, for Heidi
was continually making a diversion of some
kind or other. She jumbled all her letters up
together and seemed quite unable to learn
them, and when the tutor tried to draw her
attention to their different shapes, and to
help her by showing her that this was like a
little horn, or that like a bird's bill, she would
suddenly exclaim in a joyful voice, "That is a
goat!" "That is a bird of prey!" For the tutor's
descriptions suggested all kinds of pictures
to her mind, but left her still incapable of the
alphabet. In the later afternoons Heidi
always sat with Clara, and then she would
give the latter many and long descriptions of
the mountain and of her life upon it, and the
burning longing to return would become so
overpowering that she always finished with
the words, "Now I must go home! to-
morrow I must really go!" But Clara would try
to quiet her, and tell Heidi that she must wait
till her father returned, and then they would
see what was to be done. And if Heidi gave
in each time and seemed quickly to regain
her good spirits, it was because of a secret
delight she had in the thought that every day
added two more white rolls to the number
she was collecting for grandmother; for she
always pocketed the roll placed beside her
plate at dinner and supper, feeling that she
could not bear to eat them, knowing that
grandmother had no white bread and could
hardly eat the black bread which was so
hard. After dinner Heidi had to sit alone in
her room for a couple of hours, for she
understood now that she might not run about
outside at Frankfurt as she did on the
mountain, and so she did not attempt it. Any
conversation with Sebastian in the dining
room was also forbidden her, and as to
Tinette, she kept out of her way, and never
thought of speaking to her, for Heidi was

-51-

a table, or so many to wait upon you? Have
you?"

"No," replied Heidi.

"I should think not indeed!" continued the
exasperated lady. "You have everything you
can possibly want here, and you are an
ungrateful little thing; it's because you are
too well off and comfortable that you have
nothing to do but think what naughty thing
you can do next!"

Then Heidi's feelings got the better of her,
and she poured forth her trouble. "Indeed I
only want to go home, for if I stay so long
away Snowflake will begin crying again,
and grandmother is waiting for me, and
Greenfinch will get beaten, because I am
not there to give Peter any cheese, and I can
never see how the sun says good-night to
the mountains; and if the great bird were to
fly over Frankfurt he would croak louder than
ever about people huddling all together and
teaching each other bad things, and not
going to live up on the rocks, where it is so
much better."

"Heaven have mercy on us, the child is out
of her mind!" cried Fraulein Rottenmeier,
and she turned in terror and went quickly up
the steps, running violently against
Sebastian in her hurry. "Go and bring that
unhappy little creature in at once," she
ordered him, putting her hand to her
forehead which she had bumped against
his.

Sebastian did as he was told, rubbing his
own head as he went, for he had received a
still harder blow.

Heidi had not moved, she stood with her
eyes aflame and trembling all over with
inward agitation.

-52-

unaccustomed surroundings had turned
Heidi's head; then she told him of the
incident of the day before, and of Heidi's
strange speech. But the tutor assured her
she need not be in alarm; he had already
become aware that the child was
somewhat eccentric, but otherwise quite
right in her mind, and he was sure that, with
careful treatment and education, the right
balance would be restored, and it was this
he was striving after. He was the more
convinced of this by what he now heard,
and by the fact that he had so far failed to
teach her the alphabet, Heidi seeming
unable to understand the letters.

Fraulein Rottenmeier was considerably
relieved by his words, and released the
tutor to his work. In the course of the
afternoon the remembrance of Heidi's
appearance the day before, as she was
starting out on her travels, suddenly returned
to the lady, and she made up her mind that
she would supplement the child's clothing
with various garments from Clara's
wardrobe, so as to give her a decent
appearance when Herr Sesemann
returned. She confided her intention to
Clara, who was quite willing to make over
any number of dresses and hats to Heidi; so
the lady went upstairs to overhaul the child's
belongings and see what was to be kept
and what thrown away. She returned,
however, in the course of a few minutes
with an expression of horror upon her face.

"What is this, Adelaide, that I find in your
wardrobe!" she exclaimed. "I never heard of
any one doing such a thing before! In a
cupboard meant for clothes, Adelaide,
what do I see at the bottom but a heap of
rolls! Will you believe it, Clara, bread in a
wardrobe! a whole pile of bread! Tinette,"
she called to that young woman, who was in
the dining-room," go upstairs and take
away all those rolls out of Adelaide's

-53-

Heidi appeared at supper with her eyes red
with weeping, and when she saw her roll
she could not suppress a sob. But she
made an effort to control herself, for she
knew she must sit quietly at table. Whenever
Sebastian could catch her eye this evening
he made all sorts of strange signs, pointing
to his own head and then to hers, and giving
little nods as much as to say, "Don't you be
unhappy! I have got it all safe for you."

When Heidi was going to get into bed that
night she found her old straw hat lying under
the counterpane. She snatched it up with
delight, made it more out of shape still in her
joy, and then, after wrapping a
handkerchief round it, she stuck it in a
corner of the cupboard as far back as she
could.

It was Sebastian who had hidden it there for
her; he had been in the dining-room when
Tinette was called, and had heard all that
went on with the child and the latter's loud
weeping. So he followed Tinette, and when
she came out of Heidi's room carrying the
rolls and the hat, he caught up the hat and
said, "I will see to this old thing." He was
genuinely glad to have been able to save it
for Heidi, and that was the meaning of his
encouraging signs to her at supper.

Chapter IX: Herr Sesemann Hears of
Things that are New to Him

A few days after these events there was
great commotion and much running up and
down stairs in Herr Sesemann's house. The
master had just returned, and Sebastian
and Tinette were busy carrying up one
package after another from the carriage,
for Herr Sesemann always brought back a
lot of pretty things for his home. He himself
had not waited to do anything before going
in to see his daughter. Heidi was sitting
beside her, for it was late afternoon, when

-54-

"We had decided, as you remember, to get
a companion for Clara, and as I knew how
anxious you were to have only those who
were well-behaved and nicely brought up
about her, I thought I would look for a little
Swiss girl, as I hoped to find such a one as I
have often read about, who, born as it were
of the mountain air, lives and moves without
touching the earth."

"Still I think even a Swiss child would have to
touch the earth if she wanted to go
anywhere," remarked Herr Sesemann,
"otherwise they would have been given
wings instead of feet."

"Ah, Herr Sesemann, you know what I
mean," continued Fraulein Rottenmeier. "I
mean one so at home among the living
creatures of the high, pure mountain
regions, that she would be like some
idealistic being from another world among
us."

"And what could Clara do with such an
idealistic being as you describe, Fraulein
Rottenmeier."

"I am not joking, Herr Sesemann, the matter
is a more serious one than you think; I have
been shockingly, disgracefully imposed
upon."

"But how? what is there shocking and
disgraceful? I see nothing shocking in the
child," remarked Herr Sesemann quietly.

"If you only knew of one thing she has done,
if you only knew of the kind of people and
animals she has brought into the house
during your absence! The tutor can tell you
more about that."

"Animals? what am I to understand by
animals, Fraulein Rottenmeier?"

-55-

"My good friend," interrupted Herr
Sesemann, "you are giving yourself more
trouble than you need. I only want to know if
the child has caused you alarm by any
animals she has brought into the house, and
what your opinion is altogether as to her
being a fit companion or not for my
daughter?"

"I should not like in any way to prejudice you
against her," began the tutor once more;
"for if on the one hand there is a certain
inexperience of the ways of society, owing
to the uncivilised life she led up to the time
of her removal to Frankfurt, on the other
hand she is endowed with certain good
qualities, and, taken on the whole--"

"Excuse me, my dear sir, do not disturb
yourself, but I must--I think my daughter will
be wanting me," and with that Herr
Sesemann quickly left the room and took
care not to return. He sat himself down
beside his daughter in the study, and then
turning to Heidi, who had risen, "Little one,
will you fetch me," he began, and then
paused, for he could not think what to ask
for, but he wanted to get the child out of the
room for a little while, "fetch me a glass of
water."

"Fresh water?" asked Heidi.

"Yes--Yes--as fresh as you can get it," he
answered. Heidi disappeared on the spot.

"And now, my dear little Clara," he said,
drawing his chair nearer and laying her
hand in his, "answer my questions clearly
and intelligibly: what kind of animals has
your little companion brought into the house,
and why does Fraulein Rottenmeier think
that she is not always in her right mind?"

Clara had no difficulty in answering. The
alarmed lady had spoken to her also about

-56-

Sesemann,' he laughed very much, and
then he gave me that message for you, and
also said he hoped you would enjoy the
water."

"Oh, and who was it, I wonder, who sent me
such good wishes tell me what he was like,"
said Herr Sesemann.

"He was kind and laughed, and he had a
thick gold chain and a gold thing hanging
from it with a large red stone, and a horse's
head at the top of his stick."

"It's the doctor--my old friend the doctor,"
exclaimed Clara and her father at the same
moment, and Herr Sesemann smiled to
himself at the thought of what his friend's
opinion must have been of this new way of
satisfying his thirst for water.

That evening when Herr Sesemann and
Fraulein Rottenmeier were alone, settling
the household affairs, he informed her that
he intended to keep Heidi; he found the
child in a perfectly right state of mind, and
his daughter liked her as a companion. "I
desire, therefore," he continued, laying
stress upon his words, "that the child shall
be in every way kindly treated, and that her
peculiarities shall not be looked upon as
crimes. If you find her too much for you
alone, I can hold out a prospect of help, for I
am shortly expecting my mother here on a
long visit, and she, as you know, can get on
with anybody, whatever they may be like."

"O yes, I know," replied Fraulein
Rottenmeier, but there was no tone of relief
in her voice as she thought of the coming
help.

Herr Sesemann was only home for a short
time; he left for Paris again before the
fortnight was over, comforting Clara, who
could not bear that he should go from her

-57-

expected, her own authority was not going
to be extinguished.

And now the carriage came driving up to the
door, and Tinette and Sebastian ran down
the steps, followed with a slower and more
stately step by the lady, who advanced to
greet the guest. Heidi had been sent up to
her room and ordered to remain there until
called down, as the grandmother would
certainly like to see Clara alone first. Heidi
sat herself down in a corner and repeated
her instructions over to herself. She had not
to wait long before Tinette put her head in
and said abruptly, "Go downstairs into the
study."

Heidi had not dared to ask Fraulein
Rottenmeier again how she was to address
the grandmother: she thought the lady had
perhaps made a mistake, for she had never
heard any one called by other than their right
name. As she opened the study door she
heard a kind voice say, "Ah, here comes the
child! Come along in and let me have a
good look at you."

Heidi walked up to her and said very
distinctly in her clear voice, "Good-
evening," and then wishing to follow her
instructions called her what would be in
English "Mrs. Madam."

"Well!" said the grandmother, laughing, "is
that how they address people in your home
on the mountain?"

"No," replied Heidi gravely, "I never knew
any one with that name before."

"Nor I either," laughed the grandmother
again as she patted Heidi's cheek. "Never
mind! when I am with the children I am
always grandmamma; you won't forget that
name, will you?"

-58-

always went her own way, and so there was
no help for it. Moreover the grandmother
was a keen old lady, and had all her five
wits about her, and she knew what was
going on in the house as soon as she
entered it.

When on the following day Clara lay down as
usual on her couch after dinner, the
grandmother sat down beside her for a few
minutes and closed her eyes, then she got
up again as lively as ever, and trotted off
into the dining-room. No one was there.
"She is asleep, I suppose," she said to
herself, and then going up to Fraulein
Rottenmeier's room she gave a loud knock
at the door. She waited a few minutes and
then Fraulein Rottenmeier opened the door
and drew back in surprise at this
unexpected visit.

"Where is the child, and what is she doing all
this time? That is what I came to ask," said
Frau Sesemann.

"She is sitting in her room, where she could
well employ herself if she had the least idea
of making herself useful; but you have no
idea, Frau Sesemann, of the out-of-the-
way things this child imagines and does,
things which I could hardly repeat in good
society."

"I should do the same if I had to sit in there
like that child, I can tell you; I doubt if you
would then like to repeat what I did, in good
society! Go and fetch the child and bring her
to my room; I have some pretty books with
me that I should like to give her."

"That is just the misfortune," said Fraulein
Rottenmeier with a despairing gesture,
"what use are books to her? She has not
been able to learn her A B C even, all the
long time she has been here; it is quite
impossible to get the least idea of it into her

-59-

"Don't cry, dear child, don't cry," she said,
"the picture has reminded you perhaps of
something. But see, there is a beautiful tale
to the picture which I will tell you this
evening. And there are other nice tales of all
kinds to read and to tell again. But now we
must have a little talk together, so dry your
tears and come and stand in front of me, so
that I may see you well--there, now we are
happy again."

But it was some little time before Heidi
could overcome her sobs. The grandmother
gave her time to recover herself, saying
cheering words to her now and then,
"There, it's all right now, and we are quite
happy again."

When at last she saw that Heidi was
growing calmer, she said, "Now I want you
to tell me something. How are you getting on
in your school-time; do you like your
lessons, and have you learnt a great deal?"

"O no!" replied Heidi, sighing, "but I knew
beforehand that it was not possible to
learn."

"What is it you think impossible to learn?"

"Why, to read, it is too difficult."

"You don't say so! and who told you that?"

"Peter told me, and he knew all about it, for
he had tried and tried and could not learn it."

"Peter must be a very odd boy then! But
listen, Heidi, we must not always go by what
Peter says, we must try for ourselves. I am
certain that you did not give all your attention
to the tutor when he was trying to teach you
your letters."

"It's of no use," said Heidi in the tone of one
who was ready to endure what could not be

-60-

to whom she dared confide her longing to
go home, for she would not for the world
have given the grandmother, who was so
kind to her, any reason for being as angry
with her as Fraulein Rottenmeier had been.
But the weight of trouble on the little heart
grew heavier and heavier; she could no
longer eat her food, and every day she grew
a little paler. She lay awake for long hours at
night, for as soon as she was alone and
everything was still around her, the picture
of the mountain with its sunshine and
flowers rose vividly before her eyes; and
when at last she fell asleep it was to dream
of the rocks and the snow-field turning
crimson in the evening light, and waking in
the morning she would think herself back at
the hut and prepare to run joyfully out into--
the sun--and then there was her large bed,
and here she was in Frankfurt far, far away
from home. And Heidi would often lay her
face down on the pillow and weep long and
quietly so that no one might hear her.

Heidi's unhappiness did not escape the
grandmother's notice. She let some days
go by to see if the child grew brighter and
lost her down-cast appearance. But as
matters did not mend, and she saw that
many mornings Heidi had evidently been
crying before she came downstairs, she
took her again into her room one day, and
drawing the child to her said, "Now tell me,
Heidi, what is the matter; are you in
trouble?"

But Heidi, afraid if she told the truth that the
grandmother would think her ungrateful, and
would then leave off being so kind to her,
answered, "can't tell you."

"Well, could you tell Clara about it?"

"Oh, no, I cannot tell any one," said Heidi in
so positive a tone, and with a look of such
trouble on her face, that the grandmother

-61-

herself on a stool, folded her hands together
and told God about everything that was
making her so sad and unhappy, and
begged Him earnestly to help her and to let
her go home to her grandfather.

It was about a week after this that the tutor
asked Frau Sesemann's permission for an
interview with her, as he wished to inform
her of a remarkable thing that had come to
pass. So she invited him to her room, and
as he entered she held out her hand in
greeting, and pushing a chair towards him,
"I am pleased to see you," she said, "pray sit
down and tell me what brings you here;
nothing bad, no complaints, I hope?"

"Quite the reverse," began the tutor.
"Something has happened that I had given
up hoping for, and which no one, knowing
what has gone before, could have guessed,
for, according to all expectations, that which
has taken place could only be looked upon
as a miracle, and yet it really has come to
pass and in the most extraordinary manner,
quite contrary to all that one could
anticipate--"

"Has the child Heidi really learnt to read at
last?" put in Frau Sesemann.

The tutor looked at the lady in speechless
astonishment. At last he spoke again. "It is
indeed truly marvellous, not only because
she never seemed able to learn her A B C
even after all my full explanations, and after
spending unusual pains upon her, but
because now she has learnt it so rapidly,
just after I had made up my mind to make no
further attempts at the impossible but to put
the letters as they were before her without
any dissertation on their origin and
meaning, and now she has as you might say
learnt her letters over night, and started at
once to read correctly, quite unlike most
beginners. And it is almost as astonishing to

-62-

were sitting together in the evening, "Now
Heidi will read aloud to us," Heidi was
delighted, for reading was no trouble to her
now, and when she read the tales aloud the
scenes seemed to grow more beautiful and
distinct, and then grandmother would
explain and tell her more about them still.

Still the picture she liked best was the one
of the shepherd leaning on his staff with his
flock around him in the midst of the green
pasture, for he was now at home and
happy, following his father's sheep and
goats. Then came the picture where he was
seen far away from his father's house,
obliged to look after the swine, and he had
grown pale and thin from the husks which
were all he had to eat. Even the sun seemed
here to be less bright and everything looked
grey and misty. But there was the third
picture still to this tale: here was the old
father with outstretched arms running to
meet and embrace his returning and
repentant son, who was advancing timidly,
worn out and emaciated and clad in a
ragged coat. That was Heidi's favorite tale,
which she read over and over again, aloud
and to herself, and she was never tired of
hearing the grandmother explain it to her
and Clara. But there were other tales in the
book besides, and what with reading and
looking at the pictures the days passed
quickly away, and the time drew near for the
grandmother to return home.

Chapter XI: Heidi Gains in One Way and
Loses in Another

Every afternoon during her visit the
grandmother went and sat down for a few
minutes beside Clara after dinner, when the
latter was resting, and Fraulein
Rottenmeier, probably for the same reason,
had disappeared inside her room; but five
minutes sufficed her, and then she was up
again, and Heidi was sent for to her room,

-63-

every evening that He cannot attend to them
all, and He certainly has not heard what I
said to Him."

"And why are you so sure of that, Heidi?"

"Because I have prayed for the same thing
every day for weeks, and yet God has not
done what I asked."

"You are wrong, Heidi; you must not think of
Him like that. God is a good father to us all,
and knows better than we do what is good
for us. If we ask Him for something that is
not good for us, He does not give it, but
something better still, if only we will continue
to pray earnestly and do not run away and
lose our trust in Him. God did not think what
you have been praying for was good for you
just now; but be sure He heard you, for He
can hear and see every one at the same
time, because He is a God and not a human
being like you and me. And because He
thought it was better for you not to have at
once what you wanted, He said to Himself:
Yes, Heidi shall have what she asks for, but
not until the right time comes, so that she
may be quite happy. If I do what she wants
now, and then one day she sees that it
would have been better for her not to have
had her own way, she will cry and say, 'If
only God had not given me what I asked for!
it is not so good as I expected!' And while
God is watching over you, and looking to
see if you will trust Him and go on praying to
Him every day, and turn to Him for
everything you want, you run away and
leave off saying your prayers, and forget all
about Him. And when God no longer hears
the voice of one He knew among those who
pray to Him, He lets that person go his own
way, that he may learn how foolish he is.
And then this one gets into trouble, and
cries, 'Save me, God, for there is none
other to help me,' and God says, 'Why did
you go from Me; I could not help you when

-64-

had hardly begun a tale about a dying
grandmother before she cried out, "O! then
grandmother is dead!" and burst into tears;
for everything she read was so real to her
that she quite thought it was the
grandmother at home who had died, and
she kept on exclaiming as her sobs
increased, "She is dead, and I shall never
see her again, and she never had one of the
white rolls!"

Clara did all she could to explain to Heidi
that the story was about quite a different
grandmother; but even when at last she had
been able to convince Heidi of this, the
latter continued to weep inconsolably, for
now she had awakened to the thought that
perhaps the grandmother, and even the
grandfather also, might die while she was
so far away, and that if she did not go home
for a long time she would find everything
there all silent and dead, and there she
would be all alone, and would never be able
to see the dear ones she loved any more.

Fraulein Rottenmeier had meanwhile come
into the room, and Clara explained to her
what had happened. As Heidi continued her
weeping, the lady, who was evidently
getting impatient with her, went up to Heidi
and said with decision, "Now, Adelaide,
that is enough of all this causeless
lamentation. I will tell you once for all, if there
are any more scenes like this while you are
reading, I shall take the book away from you
and shall not let you have it again."

Her words had immediate effect on Heidi,
who turned pale with fear. The book was
her one great treasure. She quickly dried
her tears and swallowed her sobs as best
she could, so that no further sound of them
should be heard. The threat did its work, for
Heidi never cried aloud again whatever she
might be reading, but she had often to
struggle hard to keep back her tears, so that

-65-

again with the goats, to where the golden
flowers of the cistus were glowing in the
sunlight, and all the rocks around turned to
fire at sunset. Heidi would go and sit in a
corner of her lonely room and put her hands
up to her eyes that she might not see the sun
shining on the opposite wall; and then she
would remain without moving, battling
silently with her terrible homesickness until
Clara sent for her again.

Chapter XII: A Ghost in the House

For some days past Fraulein Rottenmeier
had gone about rather silently and as if lost
in thought. As twilight fell, and she passed
from room to room, or along the long
corridors, she was seen to look cautiously
behind her, and into the dark corners, as if
she thought some one was coming silently
behind her and might unexpectedly give her
dress a pull. Nor would she now go alone
into some parts of the house. If she visited
the upper floor where the grand guest-
chambers were, or had to go down into the
large mysterious council-chamber, where
every footstep echoed, and the old senators
with their big white collars looked down so
solemnly and immovably from their frames,
she regularly called Tinette to accompany
her, in case, as she said, there might be
something to carry up or down. Tinette on
her side did exactly the same; if she had
business upstairs or down, she called
Sebastian to accompany her, and there
was always something he must help her
with which she could not carry alone. More
curious still, Sebastian, also, if sent into one
of the more distant rooms, always called
John to go with him in case he should want
his assistance in bringing what was
required. And John readily obeyed,
although there was never anything to carry,
and either might well have gone alone; but
he did not know how soon he might want to
ask Sebastian to do the same service for

-66-

that they leant back in their seats and
became silent. As midnight struck,
Sebastian roused himself and called to his
companion, who, however, was not easy to
wake, and kept rolling his head first to one
side and then the other and continuing to
sleep. Sebastian began to listen more
attentively, for he was wide awake now.
Everything was still as a mouse, all sound
had died away from the streets even. He did
not feel inclined to go to sleep again, for the
stillness was ghostly to him, and he was
afraid now to raise his voice to rouse John,
so he shook him gently to make him stir. At
last, as one struck, John work up, and came
back to the consciousness of why he was
sitting in a chair instead of lying in his bed.
He now got up with a great show of courage
and said, "Come, Sebastian, we must go
outside and see what is going on; you need
not be afraid, just follow me."

Whereupon he opened the door wide and
stepped into the hall. Just as he did so a
sudden gust of air blew through the open
front door and put out the light which John
held in his hand. He started back, almost
overturning Sebastian, whom he clutched
and pulled back into the room, and then
shutting the door quickly he turned the key
as far as he could make it go. Then he
pulled out his matches and lighted his
candle again. Sebastian, in the suddenness
of the affair, did not know exactly what had
happened, for he had not seen the open
door or felt the breeze behind John's broad
figure. But now, as he saw the latter in the
light, he gave a cry of alarm, for John was
trembling all over and as white as a ghost.
"What's the matter? What did you see,
outside?" asked Sebastian sympathetically.

"The door partly open," gasped John, "and a
white figure standing at the top of the steps-
-there it stood, and then all in a minute it
disappeared."

-67-

considered were quite offensive. Frau
Sesemann wrote that she did not feel
inclined to take the journey again from
Holstein to Frankfurt because Rottenmeier
fancied she saw ghosts. There had never
been a ghost in the house since she had
known it, and if there was one now it must
be a live one, with which Rottenmeier ought
to be able to deal; if not she had better send
for the watchman to help her.

Fraulein Rottenmeier, however, was
determined not to pass any more days in a
state of fear, and she knew the right course
to pursue. She had as yet said nothing to the
children of the ghostly apparitions, for she
knew if she did that the children would not
remain alone for a single moment, and that
might entail discomfort for herself. But now
she walked straight off into the study, and
there in a low mysterious voice told the two
children everything that had taken place.
Clara immediately screamed out that she
could not remain another minute alone, her
father must come home, and Fraulein
Rottenmeier must sleep in her room at
night, and Heidi too must not be left by
herself, for the ghost might do something to
her. She insisted that they should all sleep
together in one room and keep a light
burning all night, and Tinette had better be in
the next room, and Sebastian and John
come upstairs and spend the night in the
hall, so that they might call out and frighten
the ghost the instant they saw it appear on
the steps. Clara, in short, grew very excited,
and Fraulein Rottenmeier had great
difficulty in quieting her. She promised to
write at once to her father, and to have her
bed put in her room and not to be left alone
for a moment. They could not all sleep in the
same room, but if Heidi was frightened,
why Tinette must go into her room. But Heidi
was far more frightened of Tinette than of
ghosts, of which the child had never before
heard, so she assured the others she did

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asked, turning to Fraulein Rottenmeier, with
a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"It is no joke, I assure you," replied that lady.
"You will not laugh yourself to-morrow
morning, Herr Sesemann; what is going on
in the house points to some terrible thing
that has taken place in the past and been
concealed."

"Well, I know nothing about that," said the
master of the house, "but I must beg you not
to bring suspicion on my worthy ancestors.
And now will you kindly call Sebastian into
the dining room, as I wish to speak to him
alone."

Herr Sesemann had been quite aware that
Sebastian and Fraulein Rottenmeier were
not on the best of terms, and he had his
ideas about this scare.

"Come here, lad," he said as Sebastian
appeared, "and tell me frankly--have you
been playing at ghosts to amuse yourself at
Fraulein Rottenmeier's expense?"

"No, on my honor, sir; pray, do not think it; I
am very uncomfortable about the matter
myself," answered Sebastian with
unmistakable truthfulness.

"Well, if that is so, I will show you and John
to-morrow morning how ghosts look in the
daylight. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, Sebastian, a great strong lad like
you, to run away from a ghost! But now go
and take a message to my old friend the
doctor; give him my kind regards, and ask
him if he will come to me to-night at nine
o'clock without fail; I have come by express
from Paris to consult him. I shall want him to
spend the night here, so bad a case is it; so
he will arrange accordingly. You
understand?"

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the combined household, and he had
therefore provided two loaded revolvers, so
as to be prepared for anything that
happened; for either the whole thing was a
joke got up by some friend of the servants,
just to alarm the household while he was
away--and in that case a pistol fired into
the air would procure him a wholesome
fright or else it was a thief, who, by leading
everybody at first to think there was a ghost,
made it safe for himself when he came later
to steal, as no one would venture to run out if
they heard him, and in that case too a good
weapon would not be amiss.

The two took up their quarters for the night in
the same room in which Sebastian and
John had kept watch. A bottle of wine was
placed on the table, for a little refreshment
would be welcome from time to time if the
night was to be passed sitting up. Beside it
lay the two revolvers, and two good-sized
candles had also been lighted, for Herr
Sesemann was determined not to wait for
ghosts in any half light.

The door was shut close to prevent the light
being seen in the hall outside, which might
frighten away the ghost. And now the two
gentlemen sat comfortably back in the arm-
chairs and began talking of all sorts of
things, now and then pausing to take a good
draught of wine, and so twelve o'clock
struck before they were aware.

"The ghost has got scent of us and is
keeping away to-night," said the doctor.

"Wait a bit, it does not generally appear
before one o'clock," answered his friend.

They started talking again. One o'clock
struck. There was not a sound about the
house, nor in the street outside. Suddenly
the doctor lifted his finger.

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back to your chair. I must take the child
upstairs to her bed."

And with that he put down his revolver and
gently taking the child by the hand led her
upstairs. "Don't be frightened," he said as
they went up side by side, "it's nothing to be
frightened about; it's all right, only just go
quietly."

On reaching Heidi's room the doctor put the
candle down on the table, and taking Heidi
up in his arms laid her on the bed and
carefully covered her over. Then he sat
down beside her and waited until Heidi had
grown quieter and no longer trembled so
violently. He took her hand and said in a
kind, soothing voice, "There, now you feel
better, and now tell me where you were
wanting to go to?"

"I did not want to go anywhere," said Heidi.
"I did not know I went downstairs, but all at
once I was there."

"I see, and had you been dreaming, so that
you seemed to see and hear something
very distinctly?"

"Yes, I dream every night, and always about
the same things. I think I am back with the
grandfather and I hear the sound in the fir
trees outside, and I see the stars shining so
brightly, and then I open the door quickly and
run out, and it is all so beautiful! But when I
wake I am still in Frankfurt." And Heidi
struggled as she spoke to keep back the
sobs which seemed to choke her.

"And have you no pain anywhere? no pain in
your head or back?"

"No, only a feeling as if there were a great
stone weighing on me here."

"As if you had eaten something that would

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she is nearly a skeleton already, and soon
will be quite one; something must be done
at once. For the first trouble, due to her over-
excited nerves, there is but one remedy, to
send her back to her native mountain air;
and for the second trouble there is also but
one cure, and that the same. So to morrow
the child must start for home; there you have
my prescription."

Herr Sesemann had arisen and now paced
up and down the room in the greatest state
of concern.

"What!" he exclaimed, "the child a sleep-
walker and ill! Home sick, and grown
emaciated in my house! All this has taken
place in my house and no one seen or
known anything about it! And you mean,
doctor, that the child who came here happy
and healthy, I am to send back to her
grandfather a miserable little skeleton? I
can't do it; you cannot dream of my doing
such a thing! Take the child in hand, do with
her what you will, and make her whole and
sound, and then she shall go home; but you
must do something first."

"Sesemann," replied the doctor, "consider
what you are doing! This illness of the
child's is not one to be cured with pills and
powders. The child has not a tough
constitution, but if you send her back at
once she may recover in the mountain air, if
not -you would rather she went back ill than
not at all?"

Herr Sesemann stood still; the doctor's
words were a shock to him.

"If you put it so, doctor, there is assuredly
only one way--and the thing must be seen
to at once." And then he and the doctor
walked up and down for a while arranging
what to do, after which the doctor said
good-bye, for some time had passed since

-72-

round. Then Fraulein Rottenmeier, having at
last accomplished her toilet, came down,
with everything well adjusted about her
except her cap, which was put on hind side
before. Herr Sesemann put down her
flurried appearance to the early awakening
he had caused her, and began without
delay to give her directions. She was to get
out a trunk at once and pack up all the things
belonging to the Swiss child for so he
usually spoke of Heidi, being
unaccustomed to her name and a good part
of Clara's clothes as well, so that the child
might take home proper apparel; but
everything was to be done immediately, as
there was no time for consideration.

Fraulein Rottenmeier stood as if rooted to
the spot and stared in astonishment at Herr
Sesemann. She had quite expected a long
and private account of some terrible ghostly
experience of his during the night, which
she would have enjoyed hearing about in
the broad daylight. Instead of this there
were these prosaic and troublesome
directions, which were so unexpected that
she took some time to get over her surprise
and disappointment, and continued
standing awaiting further explanation.

But Herr Sesemann had no thought or time
for explanations and left her standing there
while he went to speak to Clara. As he
anticipated, the unusual commotion in the
house had disturbed her, and she was lying
and listening and wondering what had
happened. So he sat down and told her
everything that had occurred during the past
night, and explained that the doctor had
given his verdict and pronounced Heidi to
be in a very highly strung state, so that her
nightly wanderings might gradually lead her
farther and farther, perhaps even on to the
roof, which of course would be very
dangerous for her. And so they had decided
to send her home at once, as he did not like

-73-

in conclusion, "and be sure you attend to
what I say. I know the people of this hotel in
Basle, the name of which I give you on this
card. They will see to providing rooms for
the child and you. When there, go at once
into the child's room and see that the
windows are all firmly fastened so that they
cannot be easily opened. After the child is in
bed, lock the door of her room on the
outside, for the child walks in her sleep and
might run into danger in a strange house if
she went wandering downstairs and tried to
open the front door; so you understand?"

"Oh! then that was it?" exclaimed
Sebastian, for now a light was thrown on
the ghostly visitations.

"Yes, that was it! and you are a coward, and
you may tell John he is the same, and the
whole household a pack of idiots." And with
this Herr Sesemann went off to his study to
write a letter to Alm-Uncle. Sebastian
remained standing, feeling rather foolish.

"If only I had not let that fool of a John drag
me back into the room, and had gone after
the little white figure, which I should do
certainly if I saw it now!" he kept on saying to
himself; but just now every corner of the
room was clearly visible in the daylight.

Meanwhile Heidi was standing expectantly
dressed in her Sunday frock waiting to see
what would happen next, for Tinette had
only woke her up with a shake and put on
her clothes without a word of explanation.
The little uneducated child was far too much
beneath her for Tinette to speak to.

Herr Sesemann went back to the dining-
room with the letter; breakfast was now
ready, and he asked, "Where is the child?"

Heidi was fetched, and as she walked up to
him to say "Good morning," he looked

-74-

And she ran over a list of things, dresses
and aprons and handkerchiefs, and all
kinds of working materials. "And look here,"
she added, as she triumphantly held up a
basket. Heidi peeped in and jumped for
joy, for inside it were twelve beautiful round
white rolls, all for grandmother. In their
delight the children forgot that the time had
come for them to separate, and when some
one called out, "The carriage is here," there
was no time for grieving.

Heidi ran to her room to fetch her darling
book; she knew no one could have packed
that, as it lay under her pillow, for Heidi had
kept it by her night and day. This was put in
the basket with the rolls. Then she opened
her wardrobe to look for another treasure,
which perhaps no one would have thought
of packing--and she was right--the old red
shawl had been left behind, Fraulein
Rottenmeier not considering it worth putting
in with the other things. Heidi wrapped it
round something else which she laid on the
top of the basket, so that the red package
was quite conspicuous. Then she put on her
pretty hat and left the room. The children
could not spend much time over their
farewells, for Herr Sesemann was waiting
to put Heidi in the carriage. Fraulein
Rottenmeier was waiting at the top of the
stairs to say good-bye to her. When she
caught sight of the strange little red bundle,
she took it out of the basket and threw it on
the ground. "No, no, Adelaide," she
exclaimed, "you cannot leave the house with
that thing. What can you possibly want with
it!" And then she said good-bye to the child.
Heidi did not dare take up her little bundle,
but she gave the master of the house an
imploring look, as if her greatest treasure
had been taken from her.

"No, no," said Herr Sesemann in a very
decided voice, "the child shall take home
with her whatever she likes, kittens and

-75-

Then Heidi fell back on her own thoughts
again. Now and then she looked inside the
basket, for the thing she looked forward to
most was laying all the rolls out on
grandmother's table. After a long silence
she spoke again, "If only we could know for
certain that grandmother is alive!"

"Yes, yes," said Sebastian, half asleep;
"she is sure to be alive, there is no reason
why she should be dead."

After a while sleep fell on Heidi too, and
after her disturbed night and early rising she
slept so soundly that she did not wake till
Sebastian shook her by the arm and called
to her, "Wake up, wake up! we shall have to
get out directly; we are just in Basle!"

There was a further railway journey of many
hours the next day. Heidi again sat with her
basket on her knee, for she would not have
given it up to Sebastian on any
consideration; to-day she never even
opened her mouth, for her excitement,
which increased with every mile of the
journey, kept her speechless. All of a
sudden, before Heidi expected it, a voice
called out, "Mayenfeld." She and Sebastian
both jumped up, the latter also taken by
surprise. In another minute they were both
standing on the platform with Heidi's trunk,
and the train was steaming away down the
valley. Sebastian looked after it regretfully,
for he preferred the easier mode of
travelling to a wearisome climb on foot,
especially as there was danger no doubt as
well as fatigue in a country like this, where,
according to Sebastian's idea, everything
and everybody were half savage. He
therefore looked cautiously to either side to
see who was a likely person to ask the
safest way to Dorfli.

Just outside the station he saw a shabby-
looking little cart and horse which a broad-

-76-

that he ought himself to have seen the child
safely to her journey's end. The driver now
swung himself up beside Heidi, and the cart
rolled away in the direction of the
mountains, while Sebastian, glad of having
no tiring and dangerous journey on foot
before him, sat down in the station and
awaited the return train.

The driver of the car was the miller at Dorfli
and was taking home his sacks of flour. He
had never seen Heidi, but like everybody in
Dorfli knew all about her. He had known her
parents, and felt sure at once that this was
the child of whom he had heard so much. He
began to wonder why she had come back,
and as they drove along he entered into
conversation with her. "You are the child
who lived with your grandfather, Alm-Uncle,
are you not?"

"Yes."

"Didn't they treat you well down there that
you have come back so soon?"

"Yes, it was not that; everything in Frankfurt
is as nice as it could be."

"Then why are you running home again?"

"Only because Herr Sesemann gave me
leave, or else I should not have come."

"If they were willing to let you stay, why did
you not remain where you were better off
than at home?"

"Because I would a thousand times rather
be with grandfather on the mountain than
anywhere else in the world."

"You will think differently perhaps when you
get back there," grumbled the miller; and
then to himself, "It's strange of her, for she
must know what it's like."

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