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قراءة كتاب Waldfried: A Novel

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‏اللغة: English
Waldfried: A Novel

Waldfried: A Novel

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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Transcriber's Notes:

1. Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/waldfriednovel00auerrich







BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

Authorized Editions.

WALDFRIED. A Novel. Translated by Simon Adler Stern, 12mo, cloth, $2.00.

THE VILLA ON THE RHINE. A Romance. Translated by James Davis. With a portrait of the author. 16mo. Leisure Hour Series. 2 vols., $1.25 per vol.; Pocket Edition, four parts, paper, uniform with the Tauchnitz books, 40 cents per part, or $1.50 complete.

BLACK FOREST VILLAGE STORIES. Translated by Charles Goepp. Illustrated with fac-similies of the original German wood-cuts. 16mo, Leisure Hour Series, $1.25.

THE LITTLE BAREFOOT. A Tale. Translated by Eliza Buckminster LEE. Illustrated, 16mo, Leisure Hour Series, $1.25.

JOSEPH IN THE SNOW. A Tale. Illustrated, 16mo. Leisure Hour Series, $1.25.

HENRY HOLT & CO.,

25 Bond Street, New York.







W A L D F R I E D


A N O V E L


BY

BERTHOLD AUERBACH


T R A N S L A T E D

BY

SIMON ADLER STERN



AUTHOR'S EDITION




NEW YORK

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

1874







Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by
HENRY HOLT,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.







Maclauchlan,
Stereotyper and Printer, 56, 58 and 60 Park Street, New York.







WALDFRIED.




BOOK FIRST.



CHAPTER I.

In a letter bringing me his greetings for the New Year, 1870, my eldest son thus wrote to me from America:

"We have been sorely tried of late. Wolfgang, our only remaining child, lay for weeks at death's door. I avoided mentioning this to you before; but now he is out of danger.

"'Take me to your father in the forest,' were the first distinct words he uttered after his illness. He is a lusty youth, and inherits his mother's hardy Westphalian constitution.

"In his feverish wanderings, he often spoke of you, and also of a great fire, in strange phrases, none of which he can now recall.

"He has awakened my own heartfelt desire to return, and now we shall come. We have fully determined to leave in the spring. I lose no time in writing to you of this, because I feel that the daily thought of our meeting again will be fraught with pleasure for both of us.

"Ah, if mother were still alive! Oh, that I had returned in time to have seen her!

"Telegraph to me as soon as you receive tidings of brother Ernst. I am anxious once again to behold Germany, which is at last becoming a real nation. We who are out here in America are beginning to feel proud of our Fatherland.

"We are surely coming! Pray send word to my brothers and sisters.

"Your Son Ludwig."

The postscript was as follows:

"Dear Father,--I shall soon be able to utter those dear words to you in person.

"Your Daughter Constance."

"Dear Grandfather,--I can now write again, and my first words are to you. We shall soon join you at 'grandfather's home.'

"Your Grandson Wolfgang."

* * * * *

I had not seen Ludwig since the summer of 1849, and now I was to see him, his wife, and his son. I instructed Martella to send the news to my children and sons-in-law; and to my sister who lives in the Hagenau forest I wrote in person.

Joyous answers were returned from every quarter. But the happiest of all was Rothfuss, our head servant. And well he might be, for no one had loved and suffered so much for Ludwig's sake as he had done.

Rothfuss is my oldest companion. We have known each other so long that, last spring, we might have celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of our first meeting. When that occurred, we were both of the same age--he a soldier in the fortress in which I was confined as a political prisoner. For one hour every day I was permitted to leave my cell for a short walk on the parapet. On those occasions a soldier with loaded musket walked behind me; and it often happened that this duty was assigned to Rothfuss. His orders were not to speak to me; but he did so, nevertheless. He was constantly muttering to himself in an indistinct manner. This habit of talking to himself has clung to him through life, and I doubt if any human being has a greater fund of curses than he.

One day, while he was thus walking behind me, I heard him say quite distinctly: "Now I know who you are! Oh!"--and then came fearful oaths--"O! to imprison such a man! You are the son of the forest-keeper of our district! Why, we are from the very same part of the country! I have often worked with your father. He was a hard man, but a just one; a German of the old sort."

"I am not allowed to accept money from you, but if you were to happen to lose some, there would be no harm in my finding it."

"Of course you smoke? I shall buy a pipe, tobacco, and a tinder-box for you, and what you give me over the amount will not be too much for me."

From that day, Rothfuss did me many a service. He knew how to circumvent the jailer,--a point on which we easily silenced our scruples. Five years later I regained my freedom, and when I settled on this estate, Rothfuss, as if anticipating my wishes, was at my side. Since that time he has been with us constantly, and has proved a faithful servant to me, as well as the favorite of my children.

I had inherited the estate and the grand house upon it from my father-in-law. As I was a forester's son, I found but few difficulties in attending to the timber land, but the two saw-mills and the farm that belonged to the estate gave me much trouble. For this reason, so faithful and expert an assistant as Rothfuss was doubly welcome to me.

He is a wheelwright by trade, and can attend to anything that requires to be done about the house. Near the shed, he built a little smithy, and my boys were his faithful apprentices. They never asked for toys, for they were always helping him in making some article of use. But my son Richard had no liking for manual labor. He was a dreamy youth, and at an early age manifested a great love of study.

Of my daughters, Bertha was Rothfuss' favorite. Johanna avoided him. She had a horror of his oaths, which, after all, were not so seriously meant.

While quite young she evinced much religious enthusiasm, and Rothfuss used to call her "The little nun," at which she was always very angry, for she was quite proud of her Protestantism. While preparing for confirmation she even went so far as to make repeated attempts to convert both myself and my wife.

While

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