This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By Georg Ebers
Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford
"A word, only a word!" cried a fresh, boyish voice, then two hands wereloudly clapped and a gay laugh echoed through the forest. Hithertosilence had reigned under the boughs of the pines and tops of thebeeches, but now a wood-pigeon joined in the lad's laugh, and a jay,startled by the clapping of hands, spread its brown wings, delicatelyflecked with blue, and soared from one pine to another.
Spring had entered the Black Forest a few weeks before. May was justover, yet the weather was as sultry as in midsummer and clouds weregathering in denser and denser masses. The sun was still some distanceabove the horizon, but the valley was so narrow that the day star haddisappeared, before making its majestic entry into the portals of night.
When it set in a clear sky, it only gilded the border of pine trees onthe crest of the lofty western heights; to-day it was invisible, and theoccasional, quickly interrupted twittering of the birds seemed more inharmony with the threatening clouds and sultry atmosphere than the lad'sgay laughter.
Every living creature seemed to be holding its breath in anxioussuspense, but Ulrich once more laughed joyously, then bracing his bareknee against a bundle of faggots, cried:
"Give me that stick, Ruth, that I may tie it up. How dry the stuff is,and how it snaps! A word! To sit over books all day long for one stupidword—that's just nonsense!"
"But all words are not alike," replied the girl.
"Piff is paff, and paff is puff!" laughed Ulrich. "When I snap thetwigs, you always hear them say 'knack, knack,' and 'knack' is a wordtoo. The juggler Caspar's magpie, can say twenty."
"But father said so," replied Ruth, arranging the dry sticks. "He toilshard, but not for gold and gain, to find the right words. You are alwayswanting to know what he is looking for in his big books, so I plucked upcourage to ask him, and now I know. I suppose he saw I was astonished,for he smiled just as he does when you have asked some foolish questionat lessons, and added that a word was no trifling thing and should not bedespised, for God had made the world out of one single word."
Ulrich shook his head, and after pondering a few minutes, replied.
"Do you believe that?"
"Father said so," was the little girl's only answer. Her words expressedthe firm, immovable security of childish confidence, and the same feelingsparkled in her eyes. She was probably about nine years old, and inevery respect a perfect contrast to her companion, her senior by severalsummers, for the latter was strongly built, and from beneath hisbeautiful fair locks a pair of big blue eyes flashed defiance at theworld, while Ruth was a delicate little creature, with slender limbs,pale cheeks, and coal-black hair.
The little girl wore a fashionably-made, though shabby dress, shoes andstockings—the boy was barefoot, and his grey doublet looked scarcelyless worn than the short leather breeches, which hardly reached hisknees; yet he must have had some regard for his outer man, for a red knotof real silk was fastened on his sho