Heidi had been clinging to her grandfather and looking up to him with trusting eyes. At last he said, glancing down: “All right, child, we’ll see that it won’t rattle any more. We can do it tomorrow.”
Heidi was so overjoyed at these words that she danced around the room shouting: “We’ll do it tomorrow! We can do it tomorrow!”
The grandfather, keeping his word, took Heidi down the following day with the same instructions as before. After Heidi had disappeared, he went around the house inspecting it.
The grandmother, in her joy at seeing the child again, had stopped the wheel and called: “Here is the child again! She has come again!” Heidi, grasping her outstretched hands, sat herself on a low stool at the old woman’s feet and began to chat. Suddenly violent blows were heard outside; the grandmother in her fright nearly upset the spinning-wheel and screamed: “Oh, God, it has come at last. The hut is tumbling down!”
“Grandmother, don’t be frightened,” said the child, while she put her arms around her. “Grandfather is just fastening the shutter and fixing everything for you.”
“Is it possible? Has God not forgotten us after all? Brigida, have you heard it? Surely that is a hammer. Ask him to come in a moment, if it is he, for I must thank him.”
When Brigida went out, she found the old man busy with putting a new beam along the wall. Approaching him, she said: “Mother and I wish you a good afternoon. We are very much obliged to you for doing us such a service, and mother would like to see you. There are few that would have done it, uncle, and how can we thank you?”
“That will do,” he interrupted. “I know what your opinion about me is. Go in, for I can find what needs mending myself.”
Brigida obeyed, for the uncle had a way that nobody could oppose. All afternoon the uncle hammered around; he even climbed up on the roof, where much was missing. At last he had to stop, for the last nail was gone from his pocket. The darkness had come in the meantime, and Heidi was ready to go up with him, packed warmly in his arms.
Thus the winter passed. Sunshine had come again into the blind woman’s life, and made her days less dark and dreary. Early every morning she would begin to listen for Heidi’s footsteps, and when the door was opened and the child ran in, the grandmother exclaimed every time more joyfully: “Thank God, she has come again!”
Heidi would talk about her life, and make the grandmother smile and laugh, and in that way the hours flew by. In former times the old woman had always sighed: “Brigida, is the day not over yet?” but now she always exclaimed after Heidi’s departure: “How quickly the afternoon has gone by. Don’t you think so, too, Brigida?” Her daughter had to assent, for Heidi had long ago won her heart. “If only God will spare us the child!” the grandmother would often say. “I hope the uncle will always be kind, as he is now.”—“Does Heidi look well, Brigida?” was a frequent question, which always got a reassuring answer.
Heidi also became very fond of the old grandmother, and when the weather was fair, she visited her every day that winter. Whenever the child remembered that the grandmother was blind, she would get very sad; her only comfort was that her coming brought such happiness. The grandfather soon had mended the cottage; often he would take down big loads of timber, which he used to good purpose. The grandmother vowed that no rattling could be heard any more, and that, thanks to the uncle’s kindness, she slept better that winter than she had done for many a year.
V
Two Visitors
Two winters had nearly passed. Heidi was happy, for the spring was coming again, with the soft delicious wind that made the fir-trees roar. Soon she would be able to go up to the pasture, where blue and yellow flowers greeted her at every step. She was nearly eight years old, and had learned to take care of the goats, who ran after her like little dogs. Several times the village teacher had sent word by Peter that the child was wanted in school, but the old man had not paid any attention to the message and had kept her with him as before. It was a beautiful morning in March. The snow had melted on the slopes, and was going fast. Snowdrops were peeping through the ground, which seemed to be getting ready for spring. Heidi was running to and fro before the door, when she suddenly saw an old gentleman, dressed in black, standing beside her. As she appeared frightened, he said kindly: “You must not be afraid of me, for I love children. Give me your hand, Heidi, and tell me where your grandfather is.”
“He is inside, making round wooden spoons,” the child replied, opening the door while she spoke.
It was the old pastor of the village, who had known the grandfather years ago. After entering, he approached the old man, saying: “Good morning, neighbor.”
The old man got up, surprised, and offering a seat to the visitor, said: “Good morning, Mr. Parson. Here is a wooden chair, if it is good enough.”
Sitting down, the parson said: “It is long since I have seen you, neighbor. I have come today to talk over a matter with you. I am sure you can guess what it is about.”
The clergyman here looked at Heidi, who was standing near the door.
“Heidi, run out to see the goats,” said the grandfather, “and bring them some salt; you can stay till I come.”
Heidi disappeared on the spot. “The child should have come to school a year ago,” the parson went on to say. “Didn’t you get the teacher’s warning? What do
