THE June sun shone on the green slope above the village of Leuk and the grass carpeting the heights far beyond with cool green filled the air with fragrance. In front of an isolated house on the road to the baths of Leuk two women engaged in earnest conversation.

"I tell you, Marianne," said the more talkative one, "if you could furnish a couple of rooms as I did, you would find it very profitable. You would soon get boarders, for many of the people coming to the baths do not wish to live there, or they should not, like the three I have. Of course you live rather far down and most people prefer the higher localities. If only you lived over there where those people do! They have the best location on the slope, and own the best meadow land too. But I do not like them," glancing at the house with an unfriendly look. "They are eaten up with pride. The man is not so bad, but you should see the woman!"

"How do they show their pride?" asked Marianne.

"Better ask how they do not show it," quickly replied Magdalen. "They show it in everything—the way they walk, the way they stand, and they dress as though every day were Sunday. The boy's black hair is always curled as though he were going to a church festival, and the little girl sticks her nose up in the air as much as to say, 'Here I come!'"

"The little girl can't help it if her nose turns up, and the boy isn't really to blame for his curly hair," Marianne replied. "Doesn't the woman speak pleasantly when you meet her?"

"Oh, yes, she does that, and I wouldn't advise her to carry her pride that far," said Magdalen in a threatening tone. "But if you think she stops a moment to speak a few words, as our other neighbors do, you are mistaken."

Marianne looked at the house and said in quick surprise, "What has happened? As long as I can remember that house looked old and gray and all the windows were grimy with dust. Now it looks like a different house, so snow white and the windows shine in the sun."

"It is the same house, and the change shows how proud they are," answered Magdalen warmly. "Farmer Lesa lived there more than fifty years with his old housekeeper, and in all those years never drove so much as a nail in the house. What was good enough for father and grandfather before him was good enough for him. When his heir came from over the Gemmi, there started such a tearing down and rebuilding and such a cleaning up one might suppose a count was moving in. Of course the wife was the cause of it all."

"But I should think it would be necessary to clean up and renew things if nothing had been done for fifty years," said Marianne. "The old house was no pretty sight, I must say! But why do you say the heir came from across the Gemmi? Don't the Lesas belong to our section of the country?"

"Yes, you can find Lesas scattered over the valley," answered Magdalen, "but one of them was married the other side of the Gemmi and remained near Berne or Freiburg. I know this only from hearsay, for it happened a hundred or more years ago. When old Lesa died, it was found his nearest relatives were those living over there. So Vinzenz Lesa moved here, bringing his wife and two children; that was a couple of years ago now. It is said they had a fine house and many cattle on the other side, and a capital cattle range. I've heard his brother runs that estate."

"Good gracious, I must be off!" exclaimed Marianne, startled at the striking of the village clock. "What became of Lesa's housekeeper?"

"She died shortly after he did. She was his cousin and had lived with him fully fifty years. She was over seventy, so she could not undertake anything new. Look, look!" continued Magdalen eagerly. "There they come across the meadow! Now you can see the Lesa woman and her dressed-up children too."

Marianne did not need much persuasion to tarry, for she was very curious to see the people they had been talking about. The three came nearer, and the children must have had a great deal to tell their mother for they were so engrossed in conversation they had neither eyes nor ears for anything else.

However, as they approached the house, the mother pleasantly greeted the two women, the lad pulled off his cap and the little girl called out in a clear voice, "Good day to you!" but continued on their way.

"They look nice," remarked Marianne with an approving glance. "I see no pride whatever, Magdalen, but neatness in children as well as in mother. Her clothes fit so well I am wondering how she does it. The boy's cap didn't conceal his handsome black curls and the little girl with her tiptilted little nose and brown braids about her head looks as merry as a little bird."

"Have you anything else to say?" asked Magdalen, plainly annoyed.

"You are right; I would do better to be on my way than to be talking so idly," replied Marianne, and moved on.

In the meanwhile Mrs. Lesa with her two children mounted the hill, the conversation continuing without interruption.

"Can you believe it, mother?" the lad said. "The child isn't much taller than Stefeli. When we passed Mrs. Troll's house last evening, she stood at the front door, and she went inside and suddenly we heard lovely music through the open window. Her brother still sat outside reading a book, so I asked what it was and he said, 'Alida is playing the piano.' Think of it, such a little girl! I would have liked to have listened, but Stefeli said we must go on home for it was getting late."

"And so it was," asserted Stefeli. "I would have been glad to stay too, but we had to get back home. Even then father was already at the table when we arrived. I heard that the boy's name is Hugo, and a crooked lady lives with them, for I heard Alida say to her brother, 'Now I must go in; otherwise the Fraulein will fetch me in herself and everything will be all crooked.'"

"No, no, Stefeli," said her mother. "She meant that everything might go crooked with her if she did not obey. Aren't the children's parents with them?"

"I'm not sure. What do you think, Vinzi?" asked Stefeli, turning toward her brother.

"What are you staring at? And why don't you answer your sister?" asked his mother.

"Listen, mother, listen!" he said softly. "Don't you hear that lovely sound?"

His mother paused. The wind wafted the sound of the evening bell from the valley below and as the echoes died away over the hills new notes rose louder and clearer. The mother's eyes rested on him in mingled anxiety and surprise, as he listened intently in an effort to catch just one more note.

"Vinzi, will you listen now to what I say?" asked Stefeli, who showed no surprise at all at her brother's manner.

"Yes," he answered as though waking out of a dream.

"Is the lady who lives with Alida and Hugo really crooked?" asked Stefeli, anxious to have that question settled.

"Yes, perhaps," said her brother a little absent-mindedly.

But Stefeli could not tolerate such uncertainty and retorted a little angrily, "If she is not crooked, she is straight, and there is no perhaps about it. We will go down to Mrs. Troll's house and see for ourselves what the lady looks like; can't we, mother?"

"No, we cannot go down to the house on that account," replied the mother. "But it is time to turn around or father will be home before we are, and that must not be."

"Perhaps they will be sitting out in front," said Stefeli, holding fast to her purpose, and now as her mother turned back, she ran ahead, to discover as quickly as possible if anyone was in front of the Troll house.

Vinzi wandered along quietly with his mother. He was not talkative now as when they had climbed the hill, but his mother was used to these changes in her boy.

"Tell me, Vinzi," she said, "why did you keep on listening after the sound of the evening bells had died away?"

"Oh, I could still hear them," he replied. "And then suddenly I heard a wonderful song coming down from the hills. The black firs Joined in with a deep bass and through it all the bell sang a wonderful song. Oh, if only I could repeat it!"

"Wasn't it a song you have heard somewhere?" his mother asked sympathetically, seeking to understand. "If you could sing a little of it to me, perhaps I might know what it was and tell you the words."

"No, no," declared Vinzi. "It is no song I ever heard and it has no words."

The mother meditated in silence; she could not understand Vinzi's meaning. She also had always delighted in music and had taught her children to sing as soon as they could talk; her greatest joy had been their daily evening song.

"Come, Vinzi," she now said, "let us sing together. What shall it be?"

"I do not know. If only I could sing the tune that still rings in my ears!"

"You only think you hear something. Now sing out briskly and you will enjoy it," advised his mother and started a song Vinzi knew well.

He hesitated but the familiar melody soon attracted him and he joined with his mother in a way she loved. The song was ended before they reached Mrs. Troll's house, and Stefeli darted out to them from behind a tree. From this hiding-place she had been watching the two children who sat in front of the house, each with a book. Stefeli would have liked very much to have run up to the little girl and start a friendship, but the governess came out, and she was not crooked at all, but so straight and stiff that timid Stefeli hid more carefully behind the tree. She now told all this and was very happy to have mother and brother with her as she passed the house, for the governess was still sitting there.

The children gave one another searching glances for all four of them were much interested, and Alida said half aloud, "They are the children we saw yesterday. I think I will go and make their acquaintance."

"No, you must not do that, Alida. We do not know who they are," said the governess quickly.

"She will not let Alida talk with us; did you hear that, mother?" said Stefeli.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Lesa. "I am glad you did not run in to see them, and you must not do so, Stefeli, do you hear?"

"Yes, but then we will never meet, and Alida wanted to so much," said Stefeli rather rebelliously.

"You see, Stefeli, the governess probably has entire charge of the children and is responsible for everything they do and for the friends they make," explained her mother.

"There goes father!" exclaimed Vinzi. "If we wish to get home at the same time he does we must walk faster."

As this was the mother's wish, they hastened their steps and met him a short distance from their home, and soon the little family was seated around the supper table.

Everything was quiet during the meal for the children knew they had to be silent and their parents spoke but little.

As soon as the children had finished, Vinzi asked, "May we go out doors?"

And when permission was granted, they hurried off to the barn where there were plenty of nooks and corners for a grand game of hide-and-seek.

The June evening was bright and warm, and Vinzenz Lesa rose cheerfully from the table, went outside and seated himself on the bench in front of the house to enjoy his pipe. Soon afterward his wife came out and sat beside him. Now he grew talkative and told of his visit that day to an acquaintance down in the valley: how he had looked over his meadows, fields and cattle and when he had silently compared them with his own property he had to say to himself:

"Vinzenz Lesa, that is a fine property you have inherited."

"Yes, we ought to be thankful, and we will be, Vinzenz," said his wife.

"That is quite true," he continued, "but when I rejoice and plan how to improve the farm and increase the stock, it seems I am hobbled so I cannot take another step. It is the boy Vinzi I mean. For whom should I do all this if not for him? And what kind of a boy is he? He has no eyes in his head! He shows no pleasure, not a bit of interest in leading out to pasture the finest cows to be found anywhere around. If I say to him, 'Just look at the fine fodder in this meadow!' he says, 'Yes,' and looks absently into the distance. There is something wrong with him."

"No, no, Vinzenz, that is saying too much," interrupted his wife eagerly. "If Vinzi does not always listen and sometimes lets his thoughts wander and does not show any real pleasure in farming, at least he has done no harm."

"I do not say he has," replied Mr. Lesa. "But what I do say is that there is something wrong when a boy has no feeling for such meadows and fields as we own and for such cows as are in my stalls, and for everything that belongs to a choice farm. But how to help it I do not know."

"Something may happen to bring about a change. He is young yet, you know," replied his wife in an effort to soothe him, although her own anxiety about the lad had been increased by the afternoon's experience. Thinking it best to change the subject she told him how, in passing Mrs. Troll's house that day, she had seen the people who had taken the upper rooms for the summer; the two children had looked so nice she would like to have them in her own house.

"A man can never tell what his wife will think of next!" he exclaimed with rising anger. "But I know what you are aiming at, and I say, let it alone. I want to live by myself, and as to these strange gentlefolk, our children are not to have anything to do with them, or our girl will be as spoilt as our boy. I am glad to say she is quite different from him. The young heifer runs after her and eats out of her hand. When she is told something, she pays attention, but the boy—he knows nothing."

"To hear you, one might suppose being well brought up was some sort of a disease, Vinzenz," replied the wife calmly. "But you have no need to worry. The governess takes good care her charges do not come near ours. But now it is time to go indoors," and she called the children to their evening hymn.

[CHAPTER II]

IN THE PASTURE

ONE Monday morning, so early that the sun was just reddening the tops of the mountains, Stefeli rushed into Vinzi's room.

"Wake up, Vinzi; wake up quick!" she called to him. "The man has taken the cows to the pond and father says as soon as we have had breakfast we must take them to the pasture so the man can go back to work. We'll take our lunch with us because it's too far to come home. Won't that be real fun? Come now, hurry!"

By this time Vinzi was awake, but looked at his sister with his large dark eyes as though still half dreaming.

"Oh, I dreamed something so beautiful," he said. "Mother and I were in Sitten. You know I was there last summer with her. We went into a church and everything was just as it looked then. An organ was playing music that was more beautiful than I can tell you."

"Hurry up, Vinzi, and come along! We cannot talk about organs now," urged Stefeli. "Father is already sitting at the table and mother has carried in the coffee. You know if father gets cross because we do not come, it will not be any fun. Make haste!" and she ran off.

Vinzi knew the truth of Stefeli's words so he sprang out of bed and dressed hastily. Swallowing his coffee and milk that stood at his place, he stuck his bread into his pocket before the other three had half finished their breakfast.

The father watched the boy, thinking, "He can hurry when going about his business. Perhaps he will turn out all right."

The mother had packed the midday lunch for the children in a little basket and hung it over Vinzi's shoulder. Stefeli skipped along, a little switch that Vinzi had carefully cut for her in her hand. She used this to urge the browsing cows along, but never did she strike them. Once outside, Vinzi discovered he had left his whip in the barn and had to fetch it. Every herd-boy had a switch, but only to crack it now and then so that it echoed in loud booms from the mountains. Vinzi found no pleasure in his whip, so he was careless where he put it. Now he searched one corner after another, and while he hunted his father began to frown. Then Stefeli darted up with it in her hand, for she remembered where her brother had put it last.

Now the two set off, and the father called after them, "Look out, Vinzi, that none of the cows gets across the stream," and the mother followed with her warning, "Take care not to go too near the stream where the rapids are!"

"Now we must keep our eyes open so the cows stay in our own pasture, and we must see that Schwarzeli does not do too much frisking, for if she does not graze, she will get thin," said Stefeli.

Vinzi followed Stefeli and looked on as she carefully placed the little basket in the deepest shade. Then they both sat on the ground which had been thoroughly dried by both sun and wind. The fresh morning breeze rustled through the branches and blew over the meadow far and wide until its soughing died in the distance. Suddenly Stefeli jumped up and darted off like an arrow.

"Schwarzeli! Schwarzeli!" the child kept calling as she pursued the shiny black heifer which was running toward the stream, tail in the air. "Schwarzeli, wait for me!" but the high-spirited creature only leaped higher and was now quite close to the stream. "If she jumps in, she will drown," thought Stefeli in fright, for they had come to the dangerous place her mother had meant in her warning. "Schwarzeli! Schwarzeli!"

Suddenly the fugitive stood still and calmly awaited the arrival of her mistress.

"You wicked Schwarzeli, to frighten me so!" Stefeli exclaimed, grasping hold of the rope around Schwarzeli's neck. "Just wait! If you go on like this, I will bring you no more salt that you lick as though it were so much sugar!"

Schwarzeli rubbed her neck on Stefeli's shoulder as much as to reply, "I did not mean to be bad; it was so jolly to caper over the pasture."

Half way back to the place set aside for grazing, Vinzi met them and asked in great surprise, "Why did you run away all of a sudden, Stefeli? I heard some lovely music two or three times, and when I turned to ask if you heard it too, I saw you coming back with Schwarzeli. Oh, it is such a pity you did not hear it. I cannot describe it. It sounded like a great choir of deep, strong voices floating over the meadow, growing always softer, you know, like the sound of waters far away. It was so beautiful! Come, Stefeli, we will sit down there again, and perhaps we can still hear it."

"Now go along, Schwarzeli, and be good," said Stefeli as she let go the rope and followed her brother.

However, she had scarcely settled down alongside him when she sprang up again, and this time Vinzi with her, for the brown cow had wandered over to the boundary fence and, was pushing hard against the palings, to get through. The two children ran to bring the animal back, and soon the cow was wandering prudently about the proper field.

Stefeli discovered a spot that was especially inviting, where fragrant little wild pinks nodded happily. "Come along, Vinzi, we will rest here. I am sure there will be no more wonderful music under the tree."

The children gazed contentedly on the sunlit landscape and after a period of quiet enjoyment Stefeli said, "I would love to be a cowherd all my life; wouldn't you, Vinzi?"

"No, I would not," replied Vinzi.

"Why not?" inquired Stefeli. "Surely no place is more lovely than this."

"Yes, that is true," Vinzi admitted. "But I would not like to look after cows all my life."

"What do you like to do best? I have not seen you do it," said Stefeli, astonished to think she did not know.

"Most of all, I love to hear the bells peal and hear them resound through the branches of the trees and down from the mountain heights. Do you hear the soft notes around us—do you hear?" and his eyes grew larger and brighter as he listened.

Stefeli pricked up her ears. "That is only the gnats buzzing," she said in a disgusted tone.

But Vinzi continued: "And when I hear such beautiful sounds I would like to remember them and to sing them or imitate them in some other way. I am always wondering how I can do it."

"But that is no profession," Stefeli interrupted.

"Well, that is what I am afraid of, too," said Vinzi in a discouraged manner, "but I have to keep on thinking about it. I have cut a lot of pipes and have tried to see what I could imitate on them. I have five altogether. Out of one I could get deep tones, out of another high ones, and the others have middle notes. I have been thinking how I can blow on two or three at the same time so they will all sound at once, like the church bells, you know."

"You might be a piper," Stefeli suggested suddenly, greatly elated at her inspiration. "That would be a fine profession, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know," replied Vinzi, rather uncertain, "but even if I could be, father would not let me. He found my pipes in the barn one day and threw them all away, saying I must think about more useful things than collecting pipes and working on stuff that amounts to nothing."

"You must not be so sad about it, Vinzi," she said consolingly. "I am sure father means you must not have the pipes in the barn or stable, but out here in the pasture you certainly may have them. I will watch the cows and call you when anything is the matter. You can cut new pipes, all of which we will lay in a hole under the tree, and you will take them out only when we are here. I will help you blow them. I'll blow on the high pipe and you on the low, and in that way they will sound together like the bells."

Apparently this plan did not console him as she thought it would for he kept gazing on the ground and said no more.

"Now we will talk about something else," she continued resolutely, for she did not like his sad expression, but before they could start talking again, she sprang from the ground and darted away, calling, "Vinzi, Vinzi!"

Vinzi too ran at topmost speed toward the end of the pasture where a wooden footbridge led across the stream. A party of strangers was about to cross when a little dog belonging to them suddenly dashed into the midst of the cows, barking violently. The frightened animals ran in all directions, and Schwarzeli, tail raised high, galloped hither and thither. This excited the dog to further onslaughts. Stefeli ran after her cows to quiet them while Vinzi struck out at the dog with his whip so that it suddenly turned tail and ran howling after the disappearing party. This had proved such a hot piece of work that the children sought the shade of the big tree and threw themselves down on the ground to get their breath.

Sitting up, Vinzi said, "I wish the dog had been on the other side, where the path leads up to the pasture. I saw a fiery red flower there, and it looked tremendously big, even from where I was—bigger than any I ever saw. If it were not so far, I'd go and fetch it, but it is too hot."

"Oh, I'll go," said Stefeli with assurance. "If it is so beautiful, it can't be too far for me."

Vinzi was going to offer to fetch the flower if Stefeli wished it so much, but the little girl had sped off so far, he knew he could not overtake her. So he kept his seat, and now that the midday bell in the village began to ring, he quickly forgot everything else, so intently did he listen to the sound.

"There is your flower," were the words that suddenly roused him, and Stefeli laid a bright red scarf before her brother. He was so deeply buried in his thoughts that he had not noticed the flight of time, and was astonished at her quick return. He gazed thoughtfully at what he had supposed was a red flower. Where had he seen that scarf before?

"Oh, now I know!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I saw it hanging on the chair in which the strange little girl was sitting at Mrs. Troll's house. It must belong to her."

Now Stefeli also recalled having seen something scarlet there, and as there had been children in the party that had crossed the bridge, they were probably the same children they saw yesterday.

Vinzi began to consider what was to be done with the scarf. He knew that whatever was found must be returned to the owner at once; therefore the best thing would be for him to run over to Mrs. Troll's house with it. But Stefeli declared it was everybody's dinner hour, and there was plenty of time to do it before evening.

As soon as dinner was mentioned, Vinzi suddenly sensed an immense hunger, so he set right to work gathering all the twigs under the tree and built a little fire. While it was dying down, Stefeli turned the grassy place into an attractive dinner table, laying out two large slices of bread spread with golden butter and two snow white eggs which their mother had boiled and which now only needed peeling. Then she carried the basket near the fire and put some clean round potatoes into the glowing coals. They were soon smoking and sizzling so invitingly the children waited impatiently for the moment when they could rake them from the bed of dying ashes. When they had cooled a little they bit deeper and deeper into the snowy whiteness, though they thought the hard-baked crust really the best of all.

The cows had been so busy grazing that now they were ready to rest a bit. Even Schwarzeli had settled down peacefully, though she tossed her little black head from time to time, showing she could not be trusted altogether.

The children cleaned up their place under the tree, for paper and eggshells did not belong on the fine green carpet of their living-room. And then they sat quietly and contentedly gazing over the pasture, enjoying the peace that was round about them.

"Now I might carry back the scarf we found," said Vinzi after a while. "The cows are sure to be quiet until I get back."

"Yes," agreed Stefeli. "The big ones will rest for a while and if Schwarzeli starts to run to the stream, I'll entice her back. I have kept all the salt mother gave us for the eggs. You did not ask for any, and Schwarzeli loves it."

Taking the scarf which Stefeli had folded, Vinzi ran off, but it took a good quarter of an hour for him to reach Mrs. Troll's house. The front door stood open and all was quiet inside.

Hearing chopping in the garden, he thought Mrs. Troll might be there, but suddenly quite different sounds attracted him so powerfully that he mounted the stairs. Through a half open door he caught the notes of a melody. Stepping up, he laid his ear on the door to hear better, but in his longing, he pressed quite hard and the door flew wide open.

Instantly the small musician who sat on a high stool before the instrument swung around and looked at him. Seeing he was quite shocked, she jumped down from the stool and ran up to him. "Oh, did you find my scarf and bring it back to me?" she asked as she caught sight of the scarlet cloth in his hand. "That is lucky for me! Miss Landrat gave me a good scolding for losing it and said that, as punishment, I must go over the same path I traveled with papa and the other gentlemen this morning and find it. Now you have brought it I do not have to go, so I will give you a reward. What would you like best?"

Vinzi gazed in surprise at the wonderful child who could produce such entrancing music and now speak to him as though they had been friends for a long time. He hesitated, but at last replied timidly, "Can I wish for anything I choose?"

"Yes," replied his new acquaintance decidedly, "but ask for something I can give you, not such a thing as a ship or a horse."

"No, I don't mean anything like that," said Vinzi. "I only wish to hear the music again."

"The music? Do you mean what I was playing when you came? That really is no present. What is your name?" the little girl asked, suddenly interrupting her own line of thought.

When Vinzi mentioned his name, she replied, "And mine is Alida Thornau. Practising gets so tedious that I play one of my little pieces between exercises. Do you have to practise too?"

"What do you mean by practise?"

"Oh, don't you know? Then you are lucky!" she exclaimed. "You see, practising is sitting still on a round stool and everlastingly running your fingers up and down on the piano. That is called playing the scale, and repeating it over and over is called finger practise."

"OH, DID YOU FIND MY SCARF AND BRING IT BACK TO ME?" SHE ASKED.

"Why do you have to practise?" asked Vinzi in wonder.

"Because one has to obey," answered Alida, "and Miss Landrat ordered me to practise from two to three o'clock every day. I have no lessons here like I do in Hamburg, but every time papa comes down here, I have to promise again to obey my governess. You see papa is up at the baths with mama because she is sick."

"How did you learn to play that pretty piece?" asked Vinzi who had listened to all this with intense interest.

"Oh, that is easily done when one has to practise so much. All one has to do is to play the notes that are written there," she explained.

"Then you are fortunate to be able to do so much practising," said Vinzi, and he gazed at the piano with such longing that Alida suddenly remembered the reward he had asked.

"Now I will play for you," she said.

Vinzi stared at her flying fingers in amazement and Alida saw in the mirror above the piano how he followed her playing. That pleased her and she repeated the Spring Song but stopped suddenly in the middle of it, whirled around on the stool and asked, "Would you like to learn to play the piano?"

Vinzi's eyes sparkled, but only for a moment; the next, he gazed at the floor and said sadly, "That I can never do."

"Why, yes, you can very easily," returned Alida with conviction. "I can teach you. You will soon learn all I know, and you can practise with me. That will be much more fun than for me to sit alone. Then you can play little pieces like this one that pleases you so much."

Vinzi's eyes grew larger and larger with astonishment and longing. Unbelievable happiness was suddenly before him; he need only say yes. He could not grasp it.

"If it pleases you, say yes quickly, that you really wish it," said Alida a little impatiently. "Then you must come here every day at two o'clock, like today, because then Miss Landrat takes a walk with Hugo and I have to practise until three o'clock or sometimes even later, until they return. So we will be quite alone and I will teach you everything."

In a voice that trembled, he said, "There is nothing I would like better."

"Then everything is all settled!" declared Alida with satisfaction. "Come tomorrow—or would you like to start today?"

Much as he would have liked it, Vinzi did not dare that, for Stefeli had been left alone long enough. But he would return the next day, and gladly, if it might be so. Still he could not quite believe his great good fortune, but because Alida was so sure, his doubt was conquered and he ran off in great excitement. What would Stefeli think of the plan? This was his chief thought as he ran.

When he reached the pasture, he saw the cows resting as he had left them, though Schwarzeli was wandering back and forth quietly.

"It took you a long time," Stefeli said. "What did she say?"

Seating himself on the grass beside Stefeli, Vinzi related all that had happened, explaining that he had not promised definitely to go each day for the hour's practise because he must first learn what she would say about being left alone. Stefeli considered for a moment, then said eagerly, "You can do it very easily, Vinzi, and it will bring you great joy; I know that quite well."

"I know it too," agreed Vinzi, his eyes aglow. "Do you think anything might happen to the cows during that time? They are still quiet today."

"There is nothing to worry about," his sister assured him. "All the time you were away, they lay quiet and looked around, and Schwarzeli took a little walk. That is the way it always is in the afternoon."

Vinzi himself knew this was true, but was glad of Stefeli's assurance. There was now so much to talk over concerning the coming days and their consequences that they sat engrossed in conversation until horns sounded from here, there, everywhere. This was the signal for the herders that milking time had arrived and the cattle should be driven home.

Vinzi leaped up from the ground in great surprise that evening had come so quickly and Stefeli took the basket on her arm and went to fetch the wandering Schwarzeli. Her brother whistled his cows together and then the two children gleefully marched off behind their small herd to the stable where their father awaited them.

[CHAPTER III]

UNEXPECTED EVENTS

THE next day after they had eaten lunch and the cows had settled for their afternoon rest, Vinzi looked again and again at the mountains.

Suddenly jumping up, he said, "It must be two o'clock. Yesterday as I came back the sun stood above the Felsenhorn. That was at three o'clock. In another hour it will be there again."

"Yes, run off quickly, for the sooner you go, the sooner you will be back to tell me all about it," urged Stefeli.

When Vinzi mounted the steps at Mrs. Troll's house, Alida came running to meet him and exclaimed, "You come just at the right time! They are all away and we will be alone. This is the time you should always come. Let us begin at once," she proposed energetically, and took a small sheet of music and began teaching rather hurriedly, for she did not wish to devote much time to the names of the notes.

Vinzi gave close attention and understood quickly, and they soon left the reading of music to study the keys.

To make her teaching more vivid, Alida struck the key each time it was named.

Vinzi was lost in astonishment and asked suddenly, "But how is the music made?"

"It is all printed in the book; we read it there and play it," explained Alida.

"But someone made it first, didn't they?" asked Vinzi timidly. "Don't you think if one only knew how, one could write down all the tunes one hears?"

"That's not necessary for there are plenty of pieces of music already," said Alida with a sigh as she glanced at the big book of exercises.

Vinzi also looked at the open book, but he gazed at it as if it were a marvel.

"Now I'll play a short piece," continued Alida. "It is an easy one and you can soon learn it."

Vinzi listened and his eyes glowed with happiness.

As she finished the Black Forest clock struck three and jumping down from the stool she announced, "Now the lesson is over. Come again tomorrow," and Vinzi held out his hand in farewell and then ran off.

So matters continued for three days more. Vinzi was such an apt pupil that his teacher was amazed at his progress. He rejoiced that he was sent to the pasture these days and not required to help his father in the stable and barn as sometimes happened, for now his thoughts were so entirely filled with his study of music that often he did not hear what was said to him.

On the few occasions when his father needed him for little tasks, he would send him away with a shake of the head, saying, "Where is your head, boy?"

The afternoon for the fourth lesson had come and he was so happy that he took two of the steps at a time and was half way up when a harsh voice called out to him, "Hey, what's the matter? You bold boy, come down at once!"

"I want to go up to Alida," explained Vinzi.

"To Alida? You know no Alida and she does not know you," Mrs. Troll shouted savagely, for it was she who stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Come down this moment or I'll fetch you in a way you will not like."

Vinzi obeyed, but as he descended, he called out with all his might, "Alida, I cannot come, but you know I was here."

"What's this you are calling out?" said Mrs. Troll roughly. "I see you want to fool me and make me believe you know the little girl upstairs whose name you have happened to hear. There is the door!"

But Alida had heard the voices and now came running down the stairs to say in a superior manner, "Why are you sending Vinzi away? He wishes to see me."

"Ah, the matter was arranged then!" exclaimed Mrs. Troll, using quite a different tone. "Did Miss Landrat know he was coming?"

"No, but I knew it," answered Alida haughtily.

"Then we will tell Miss Landrat and everything will be settled," said Mrs. Troll scornfully. "The best thing for him to do now is to go where he belongs."

That was Vinzi's opinion too, and shaking hands with Alida, he went sadly away, for he thought all was over. But Alida was very angry that the woman had dared to send her friend away, and she called out furiously, "I'll tell my papa everything, and he'll not let Vinzi be treated so!" and flew up the stairs.

As soon as Mrs. Troll saw the governess returning with Hugo, she reported what had happened in her absence.

"It is certain the boy has been here before," she concluded in excitement.

"His coming today had been arranged, for he shot up the stairs as though it were his home, and Alida was waiting for him."

Miss Landrat was horrified. "How could she be so bold? To think of making an acquaintance with a cowherd of unknown family!"

"Perhaps it is the boy who found the red scarf," suggested Hugo who had been listening quietly. "We saw him Sunday with his sister. He looked like a nice boy, and it surely would be all right for Alida to know him."

Miss Landrat said no more, but turned and went upstairs, Hugo following.

Throwing open the door, she asked, "Who was with you while we were away?"

"Vinzi," answered Alida.

"If that is the name of the boy who was here, I would like to know what business brought him," the governess continued in growing anger.

"He came for a piano lesson," was the reply.

"Do you think I am joking with you, Alida?" said Miss Landrat, now quite furious.

"No, I do not think so."

"Then answer me sensibly!" she exclaimed. "How did you come to ask him here? What did he want?"

"A piano lesson," as if it were a matter of course.

"But, tell me, Alida, who was to give him the lesson?" interrupted Hugo.

"I was," she answered earnestly.

Then Hugo burst out laughing and asked, "Didn't the idea of your giving him a piano lesson make him laugh?"

"No, he was very attentive," said his sister.

"That is enough!" exclaimed the governess angrily. "Ask no more questions, Hugo. Alida must not think it funny to invent such stuff. I shall write her father immediately, but the first thing—" and she hurried out of the room.

Hugo now began his questions again and to his great amusement heard that several lessons had already been given, that Vinzi had learned a great deal, and that Alida wanted to have her father know how Mrs. Troll had treated him.

Meanwhile Miss Landrat went to Mrs. Troll and instructed her to forbid Vinzi entering her house if he ever came near again.

That same evening Vinzi's father passed Mrs. Troll's house as he cut across the fields to his home, and she caught sight of him as she stood in her garden.

"Hey there, neighbor Lesa!" she called. "I would like to tell you something." And when he came up, she added, "I think it would be better for your boy if he had something to do instead of running into other people's houses for mischief."

"What do you mean, neighbor?"

"I mean that your boy has been here a number of afternoons to visit the little girl upstairs, but her governess wants no more of it, and he should stay where he belongs."

"I'll see he does. Good-bye!" and Mr. Lesa went on his way.

It was just supper time as he entered his house, and both children were already at the table, because the mother liked to have everything ready on her husband's arrival. As the meal progressed and he spoke no word, she looked inquiringly at him, but since it was evident he wished to be let alone, as soon as the supper tasks were finished, she sent the children off to bed.

Directly he was alone with his wife, he said, "Sit down, for I have something to talk over with you," and when she had done so, he continued savagely, "I've had enough of the boy. He not only does nothing, understands nothing, and is good for nothing on the farm, but now he brings shame and disgrace on us. This is the end; he must go away."

"Oh, what has Vinzi done?" she asked in anxiety. "It is not his way to be mischievous. Vinzenz, tell me, has he done something wicked?"

"Ask him yourself what he has been doing. I've had enough of it. To think of a neighbor telling me it would be better for my boy to be doing something else than running into other people's houses and carrying on! Things have been going on long enough; I'm through. He must go. Away with him!" And in his agitation, he paced the room.

As he seated himself again, his wife said, "I cannot understand what has happened. Vinzi is not the kind to go into people's houses without being invited. There must have been a reason. Let us talk with the boy before we condemn him; he is sure to tell us the truth. Just think, Vinzenz, what it means to send a twelve-year-old boy away; he is certainly much too young for that."

"I'll not oppose your talking with him," replied her husband, "but I tell you this: he has to go. I have had it in mind for a long time, and it is the only way in which he can be helped. He must go some place where he will have no opportunity for such mischief, where there are very few people, and only those who find pleasure in work. I mean people who stay by themselves and who do not mix with strangers."

"But it would first be necessary to know the people," she interrupted forcibly. "You surely do not mean to say our Vinzi should be turned over to anyone just because he takes pleasure in his farm work?"

"Quietly, quietly! I am coming to that," her husband continued in the same tone. "You know that last fall I was up on the Simplon where my cousin Lorenz Lesa lives. He has a farm up there with a few fine cows. It is a small place but everything is kept in excellent order. I took quite a liking to it, and the boy must go there. He'll come to his senses when he sees how happy and contented other boys are with such a life."

"Is it really possible you are going to send our boy away?" lamented his wife. "And high up into the mountains? It must be dreadfully lonesome up there. I can scarcely imagine how it is. I do not know your cousin or his wife. How will they take to a boy sent to them as a good for nothing, whom his parents could not manage? It is as though our Vinzi had become a criminal and was sent into exile."

"You need not get so wrought up about it, my dear," he began. "I am not doing this to punish him, but to bring him up properly. Cousin Lorenz is a good and just man, and will not ill-treat the boy. And Cousin Josepha is an altogether worthy woman who is rearing three boys it is a pleasure to look upon. I have seen them in the midst of their cows and I never heard such yodeling, such a cracking of whips, such joking. They acted as if they were out for a holiday. Our boy will learn from them, nothing can be better than the farm."

Many anxious questions filled her mind, but she knew she could do nothing more. Vinzi must go; that was settled, and she knew of no other place to send him. She only asked her husband how soon he would go; surely they must ask whether the cousins would take him. Then her husband explained that it had been settled between them the fall before that Vinzi was to go to them for the summer and that in return, one of their sons was to spend a summer in their home. It would do the mountain boy good to see a new place and different ways of working, and the other boys might wake up Vinzi. Mr. Lesa added that he believed a man in the valley was planning to drive his cattle over the mountain and that would be a good opportunity to send Vinzi with him.

The mother went to bed that night with a heavy heart, and at dawn went quietly to Vinzi's room to hear what he had done and to prepare him for what was coming. Vinzi woke to find her sitting on the edge of his bed holding his hand in hers.

"Tell me, Vinzi," she began, "now while we are alone together, what you did yesterday to make your father so angry. Were you in mischief? Tell me everything."

Vinzi thought for a moment, then remembered how angrily Mrs. Troll had sent him away. Perhaps his father had heard about that, so he related the whole incident.

A great load fell from the mother's heart; Vinzi had done no wrong. But she understood very well how the neighbor's words had angered her husband, for Vinzi had caused him much secret worry and vexation. She explained to the lad how he had done wrong not to tell her about the matter, and asked if he had not thought he ought to tell them at home before beginning the lessons. Vinzi said candidly that he had feared his father would not give permission, and as he had such an intense desire to learn something about music, both Stefeli and he had decided the afternoon was a good time for him to leave the pasture, and if nothing happened to the cows his father could not say anything. But his mother told him his silence had been wrong, and now he would have to accept the consequences, which she hoped would be for his good. Then she unfolded his father's plan and told how he hoped Vinzi would learn to enjoy farm work and how she prayed he would return so bright and happy that his father would be pleased with him.

In spite of the care his mother took to tell him the decision to send him away, Vinzi's look of alarm brought tears to her eyes, though she was proud he uttered no word of complaint.

Everything went on as usual that day, and the children spent the hours out in the pasture. Stefeli was accustomed to Vinzi's long silences, even though she could not hear all he seemed to hear.

But today, he went too far, and when the silence grew unbearable she said impetuously, "Do say something, Vinzi! It is just as though you were not here at all."

"Well, I won't be much longer," he answered dolefully, and went on to tell her he was going away, high up into the mountains, to people he did not know.

"When do you have to go?" she asked, oppressed in spite of the impossibility of believing the news. When Vinzi was unable to answer that, she exclaimed with relief, "Oh, then it may be such a long time that it will not happen at all. Let's be happy again, Vinzi."

That evening after the children had gone to bed and the parents were sitting alone, the father said he had gone to town to talk with his friend, but found he had left that morning to drive his cattle over the mountain. But there was nothing unfortunate in that; on the contrary. He had been informed that a young workman from Gondo was returning to that town on Monday and as he would make the way from Brig by foot, would have to put up somewhere over night. That would be better for Vinzi; he would not have to walk all the way. They would stay over night at Berisal, where an innkeeper Mr. Lesa knew would give them good accommodation.

Mrs. Lesa had listened silently, but now she said, "Surely you are not going to turn our boy over to a man we know nothing about except that he is going over the mountain?"

"I looked him up immediately," replied her husband, "and talked everything over with him. I am told he is a good honest man, and believe he is all right. All Vinzi needs is a companion, for at twelve a boy is no longer a little child."

"Young enough to go off alone," the mother sighed. "Must it be on Monday?"

"It is best so," said the husband decisively. "When a thing has to be done, it cannot be undertaken too quickly."

"It is a blessing we can give the boy into the keeping of our Father in Heaven," sighed Mrs. Lesa. "It is my only comfort."

"That is true," he replied, glad to know his wife had some consolation. "Well, now everything is in order," he said after a pause. But in spite of his words he pushed his pipe from one corner of his mouth to the other as though there was something in his mind that was not quite in order. "The boy must be told what is going to happen."

"He knows. I told him early this morning. All you have to do is to tell him when," said the mother.

This was welcome news to her husband. So Vinzi had known all day, and had been quiet about it; there was to be no scene such as he had anticipated with dread.

The next day when the afternoon sun shone down on the bench in front of the house, the father seated himself there according to his Sunday custom and called Vinzi to him.

"You know that you are going up to your cousin on the mountain," he began when the boy was sitting beside him. "It is beautiful up there, and you will like it. I am sending you for your own good, and you must not bring shame on your parents. Your fellow-traveler knows the house where you are to go, and you are expected, though they do not know exactly when you will arrive. Just tell them who you are and that I sent you as I arranged. You leave early tomorrow morning with a man who knows all about the trip you have to make."

Vinzi remained silent, which was as his father wished, and to cheer his son just a little, he launched into a description of the merry life of the young cousins on the mountain.

Meanwhile the mother was packing the knapsack which Vinzi would carry and Stefeli followed her about. She had been told what was to happen the next morning and knowing there was no chance to ask questions of her father while he was talking to Vinzi, hoped she could talk to her mother about it. But the knapsack was packed in silence, supper was served and the mother seemed unable to utter a word. She felt she must not betray her grief and make it any harder for Vinzi, but she really had to say a few words to him, and when he was in bed and his room in darkness, she went to him.

"I am glad you have come, mother," he said immediately. "Do you think my cousin will be angry if I happen to forget about his cows? Stefeli always called me if I was not watching."

"I do not know," answered his mother. "You see I do not know your Cousin Lorenz or Cousin Josepha. But I want to ask you, Vinzi, to do the best you can. If they complain or send you back home, your father could not stand it. Never do anything so you dare not look up to your Father in Heaven. Remember when fearful or lonely that He is always above you, that He sees and hears you. That is the best comfort, Vinzi; do not forget it."

Vinzi readily promised he would remember her words, and with that she left him.

Early the following morning the father accompanied Vinzi down to the station where they were to meet his traveling companion.

[CHAPTER IV]

A DEPARTURE AND AN ARRIVAL

Two letters had just come to Mr. Thornau who was staying at the Leuk baths with his sick wife. One was from his daughter, the other from the governess, and both urged that he pay them a visit. That they wished exactly the same thing gave him no particular pleasure, for he knew from experience that such accord usually arose from some disagreement. Laying the letters on his wife's bed, he said, "That is another summons to go to Leuk, but don't be disturbed about it."

In spite of the gentleman's words, his wife was greatly excited and murmured, "Oh, if we had not sent the children away! It isn't good for them. They should be with us."

"If you want them here, Alida," said her husband, "just say so. You know my only reason for keeping them down below is that you may have greater quiet."

"Yes, I would feel better if you would bring them," replied his wife. "The governess may mean well, but she is too strict, and does not understand children. She is severe when it is unnecessary, and under her training Hugo grows more quiet and reserved and Alida more obstinate and disobedient. Neither of our children is easy to handle."

"Quite right," agreed her husband. "Alida has my temperament and being a girl needs specially careful guidance. Hugo has your disposition and also your delicate health."

"He also needs special control," added Mrs. Thornau. "You will always deal with him gently, will you not, when I am here no longer?"

"Let us not say another word about it!" protested Mr. Thornau. "I will be on my way to settle this case, for it always takes two hours. I will walk down, but probably ride back."

When Mr. Thornau arrived at Mrs. Troll's house, the door was suddenly thrown open and Alida darted out, for she had seen him coming. Greetings over, the little girl began to pour out her story, but her father checked the flow with:

"Miss Landrat comes first. Then it is your turn," and that was really the way he heard of the matter.

Alida gave a vivid account of Vinzi's banishment by Mrs. Troll, and called Hugo as witness that the boy was by no means a street urchin, but a very nice lad, with whom anyone would much rather be friends than with Mrs. Troll.

The father did not doubt for a moment that there was some new reason for his daughter's sudden enthusiasm about music. But that was not the main issue. He felt some reparation must be made to the boy who had been kind enough to return his daughter's scarf and afterward been offered insult when he came to see her on her invitation. He would call on the boy and his parents and apologize at least, perhaps even make the boy some little present. Much delighted, Alida took the place of guide, for she had learned from Vinzi where he lived.

"I like the looks of this place," said Mr. Thornau, glancing approvingly at the well-kept house, the newly mowed lawn, the swept path, and the scoured bench in the shade of the walnut tree.

"Too bad! Too bad!"

He muttered the last words, but Alida quickly interpreted their meaning and said, "Yes, it is too bad that we don't live here, papa, is it not? But we could soon move here, as our piano is only rented. Then Vinzi could practise with me every day. And how I would like it! Practising alone is dreadfully tedious and that is why I gave him lessons, so he could practise with me."

"So that is the reason of the music lessons! Capital!" said her father, bursting out laughing. "And your pupil was eager to learn?"

"Oh, yes, and so clever!" exclaimed Alida. "Just think, papa, when I explained anything, he often understood it better than I, and would explain it to me."

Her father smiled as he approached the front door, which stood open, and stepping into the hall, he knocked on the first door. At a call to enter, he opened the door into a large sunny room where Mrs. Lesa sat at the window doing some needlework, with Stefeli before her busy with thick knitting needles and coarse yarn.

Mr. Thornau introduced himself and said he had come with his children to express the sincere regret they all felt that her son Vinzi had received such unpleasant treatment from Mrs. Troll. He hoped they could tell the boy how sorry they were and give him some proof of their friendship.

Mrs. Lesa declared she knew nothing of Mrs. Troll's harsh treatment for Vinzi had not complained, but she understood now what had happened; it was Mrs. Troll's words that had stirred Vinzi's father to send the lad away from home. He had left that very morning, and she had been unable to think of anything else since his departure. Begging the gentleman to be seated, she informed him how things had gone with Vinzi.

Alida quickly ran over to Stefeli to ask, "Where is your brother?"

"He has gone away," answered Stefeli.

"Why are you not in the pasture? When he is away I thought you always waited in the pasture until he came back," she said, seeming to know about everything.

"Vinzi is not away for just an hour. He has gone for many weeks, so something different must be done about the cows, though we do not know what," explained Stefeli. "You see I cannot tend them alone. But mama says everything has a good side, and now I will be able to stay in the house and knit woolen stockings to have ready for Vinzi when he comes home."

"I think that belongs to the bad side," said Alida quickly. "The heavy needles will hurt your hands and the thick yarn has cut your forefinger already. Come along out to the barnyard. I hear the hens cackling out there."

Stefeli glanced at her mother who had heard what the children were saying, and when she nodded her head in assent, the two girls ran off.

"Wouldn't you like to go out too?" asked Mrs. Lesa of Hugo, who stood behind his father's chair. "The air will do you good."

"Why, of course, run along with them, Hugo," said his father.

A little Swiss boy

A LITTLESWISS BOY

[CHAPTER I]

[CHAPTER II]

[CHAPTER III]

[CHAPTER IV]

A LITTLE
SWISS BOY