Johanna Spyri - Heidi

‘That’s a good boy,’ said his mother. ‘Learn all you can.’

He got out of the window again, for the door was of course quite frozen up, pulled his little sleigh after him, and shot off on it like a streak of lightning. Right through Dörfli he sped for he could not stop, but flew on down to the valley right past Mayenfeld, before the sleigh came to a standstill. He knew where he was, and decided happily that it was too late for school. It would take him a good hour to climb up to the village again, and lessons would already have started. There was no point in hurrying, so he took his time, and reached Dörfli just as Heidi and her grandfather were sitting down to dinner. He could not wait to tell them his great news, but burst in upon them, and announced, ‘It’s happened.’

‘You sound very fierce, General! What do you mean?’ asked Uncle Alp.

‘The frost,’ said Peter.

‘Oh, now I can go and see Grannie,’ cried Heidi, understanding this cryptic remark perfectly, and added, ‘Why weren’t you at school then, Peter? You could easily have come down on your sleigh.’ It seemed to her all wrong to stay away from school without good reason.

‘I got carried too far down, and then it was too late,’ he replied.

‘That’s desertion,’ said Uncle Alp, ‘and deserters get punished.’

Peter looked slightly alarmed and stood twiddling his cap, for he had a great respect for Uncle Alp.

‘And for a commander like you, it’s even worse,’ went on the old man. ‘What would you do to your goats if they were to take it into their heads to run away and disobey your orders?’

‘Beat them.’

‘What would you say, then, if a boy who behaved like a disobedient goat got beaten for it?’

‘Serve him right.’

‘Then listen to me, General. If you ever again let your sleigh carry you off when you ought to be at school, you can come to me afterwards to get what you deserve.’

Light dawned on Peter with that last remark, and he looked cautiously round the room to see if there was a stick anywhere about that might be used for such a purpose. But Uncle Alp continued in a friendly voice:

‘Now come and have something to eat, and then Heidi can go home with you. Bring her back in the evening and you can stay and have supper with us.’

Peter grinned widely at this unexpected change of tune, and sat down. Heidi was so excited at the thought of seeing Grannie again that she couldn’t eat any more and passed him the rest of her potatoes and cheese. Uncle Alp had already given him a plate piled high with food and he attacked it all with gusto. Heidi went to the cupboard, and put on the coat which Clara had sent her. She pulled the hood over her head, and stood beside Peter, ready and impatient for him to finish eating. ‘Come on now,’ she urged, as he reached the last mouthful, and off they went. She chattered away to Peter, telling him how miserable Daisy and Dusky had been on the first day in their new stall, refusing to eat, just standing quietly, with drooping heads.

‘Grandfather said they were feeling like I did in Frankfurt,’ she told him, ‘because they’d never left the high pasture before, and you don’t know what that’s like, Peter.’

Peter hadn’t been listening properly. He was deep in thought and he didn’t say a word until they reached the cottage, then he announced gloomily, ‘I’d rather go to school than have Uncle do what he said.’ Heidi thought he was quite right, and said so.

They found Bridget alone, mending. ‘Grannie’s in bed,’ she told them. ‘She isn’t very well, and feels the cold badly.’

This was something new in Heidi’s experience. She had always before found Grannie in her corner seat. She ran quickly into the next room, where the old woman lay on her narrow bed, covered with only a single thin blanket, but wrapped in her warm grey shawl.

‘Thank God,’ said Grannie, as she heard Heidi’s step. All through the autumn she had been worrying secretly during the time when Heidi had not been able to visit her, for Peter had told her all about the visitor from Frankfurt, who had spent so much time with Heidi, and she had been sure he must be going to take her away. Even after he had gone back, she still expected to see someone come from Frankfurt and carry her off.

‘Are you very ill, Grannie?’ asked Heidi, standing close beside her.

‘No, no,’ said the old woman, stroking her fondly. ‘It’s only the frost which has got into my old bones.’

‘Will you be well when it turns warm again?’ Heidi persisted anxiously.

‘Oh, I’ll be back at my spinning‐wheel long before that, God willing,’ Grannie assured her. ‘I really meant to get up today, and I’ll be all right again tomorrow I’m sure.’

Heidi looked relieved, and as her bright eyes took more in, she remarked, ‘In Frankfurt, people put on a shawl when they go for a walk. Did you think it was meant to wear in bed, Grannie?’

‘I put it on to keep me warm,’ Grannie replied. ‘My blanket’s rather thin, and I’m thankful to have it.’

‘Your bed slopes down at the head instead of up,’ Heidi next observed. ‘That’s not right.’

‘I know, child,’ said Grannie. ‘It’s not very comfortable,’ and she tried to find a soft place for her head on the pillow, which was not much better than a piece of wood. ‘It was never very thick, and my old head, resting on it for so many years, has worn it thinner still.’

‘I wish I’d asked Clara if I could bring the bed I had at Frankfurt with me. It had three fat pillows, one on top of the other, and I kept slipping down the bed, away from them — but I had to get back on them again before morning because that was the proper way to go to sleep in. Would you be able to sleep like that?’

‘Yes, indeed, it would be very cosy. It’s easier to breathe, well propped up with pillows,’ Grannie sighed, trying to raise her head a little. ‘But we won’t talk about that. I’ve so much to be thankful for, more than many old sick people — the lovely rolls every day, this fine warm shawl, and now you to visit me. Will you read to me today?’

Heidi fetched the old book and read her several hymns. They were all familiar ones, and she enjoyed the sound of them afresh after the long interval. Grannie lay with her hands folded, and a happy look spread over her thin old face. Suddenly Heidi stopped reading to ask, ‘Are you better now, Grannie?’

‘Yes, that’s done me a lot of good, my dear. Please go on.’

Heidi did so and when she came to the last verse of the hymn, Grannie repeated it several times.

She found the words very comforting, and Heidi liked them too, for they made her think of that sunny day when she had come back to the mountains. ‘I know how lovely it is to get home,’ she exclaimed.

Soon after that she got up to go, for it was getting dark. ‘I’m so glad you’re better,’ she said, as Grannie took her hand and held it tight.

‘Yes, I’m happier now. Even if I have to go on lying here, I shan’t worry any more. You don’t know what it means to lie for days on end in darkness, and most of the time in silence. Sometimes I’m ready to give up, knowing I shall never see the sunshine again. But when you come and read me these wonderful words, my heart looks up again, and I’m comforted.’

Heidi said goodnight then and went outside with Peter. The moon shining on the snow made it as light as day. Peter got on his sleigh, with Heidi behind him, and they skimmed down the hill like a couple of birds.

Lying in her comfortable bed behind the stove that night, Heidi thought about Grannie’s poor thin pillow, and how much good the hymns had done her. If she could go and read to her every day, Grannie might get better, but it would probably be a week or even longer before she could go up again. She wondered what could be done about it, then suddenly had an idea which pleased her so much she could hardly wait for morning, to carry it out. She had been so occupied with these things that she had forgotten her prayers, and now she never finished a day without them. So she sat up and prayed for Grannie and Grandfather, as well as for herself. After that she lay back on the soft hay and slept soundly till morning.