Johanna Spyri - Heidi

‘You’ve got a seat all right, but rather a low one, and even with my chair you would not be high enough to reach the table.’ So saying, the old man got up and pushed his chair in front of Heidi’s stool and put the mug filled with milk on it, and a plate on which was a slice of bread covered with the golden toasted cheese. ‘Now you have a table to yourself and can start to eat,’ he said. Then he perched himself on a corner of the big table and began his own meal.

Heidi took up the mug and drained it thirstly. After that she drew a deep breath — for she had been too busy drinking to breathe — and set the empty mug down.

‘Is the milk good?’ asked her grandfather.

‘The best I’ve ever drunk,’ replied Heidi.

‘You must have some more then,’ and he refilled her mug.

She ate her bread and cheese, which tasted delicious, and every now and then she took a drink. She looked as happy and contented as anyone could be.

After the meal her grandfather went to the goat‐stall and Heidi watched him sweep the floor with a broom and then put down fresh straw for the animals to sleep on. When that job was done he went into the shed, which was built on to the side of the hut, and sawed off several round sticks of wood. Then he bored holes to fit them in a strong flat piece of board, and when he had fitted them all together, the result was a high chair. Heidi watched him, silent in her amazement.

‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked, when he had finished.

‘It’s a chair specially for me,’ she said wonderingly. ‘And how quickly you made it!’

‘She’s got eyes in her head and knows how to use them,’ thought the old man. Next he busied himself with some small repairs in the hut, driving in a nail here and there, tightening a screw in the door and so on. Heidi followed at his heels, watching him with the closest attention, for everything was new and interesting to her.

Thus the afternoon passed. A strong wind sprang up again, whistling and rustling through the fir trees. The sound pleased Heidi so much that she began dancing and jumping about, and her grandfather stood watching her from the door of the shed. Suddenly there was a shrill whistle and Peter appeared in the midst of his herd of goats. Heidi gave a cry of delight and rushed to greet her friends of the morning. As the goats reached the hut they all stood still, except for two graceful animals, one brown and one white, which detached themselves from the others and went up to the old man. Then they began to lick his hands for he was holding a little salt in them, as he did every evening to welcome them home.

Peter went away with the rest of the herd, and Heidi ran to the two goats and began to pat them gently. ‘Are these ours, Grandfather?’ she asked. ‘Both of them? Do they go into the stall? Will they always be here with us?’ Her questions followed so closely on each other that her grandfather could hardly get an answer in edgeways. When the goats had finished the salt, the old man said, ‘Now go and fetch your mug and the bread.’ She obeyed and was back in a flash. Then he filled her mug with milk from the white goat and gave it to her with a slice of bread.

‘Eat that and then go to bed,’ he said. ‘If you want a nightdress or anything like that, you’ll find it in the bundle your aunt brought. Now I must see to the goats. Sleep well.’

‘Good night, Grandfather,’ she called, as he walked off with the animals. Then she ran after them to ask what the goats’ names were.

‘The white one is called Daisy and the brown Dusky,’ replied her grandfather.

‘Good night, Daisy, good night, Dusky,’ called Heidi after the goats, who had disappeared into their stall. She ate her supper on the bench outside the hut. The wind was so strong, it almost blew her away, so she finished her bread and milk quickly and went indoors and up to bed. There she was soon sleeping as soundly as if she was tucked up in the finest bed in the world.

Her grandfather also went to bed before it was dark, for he always got up with the sun, and that came over the mountain tops very early in the summer. During the night the wind blew so hard that it shook the whole hut and made its beams creak. It shrieked down the chimney and brought one or two of the old fir trees’ branches crashing down. So after a while the old man got up, thinking, ‘The child may be frightened.’

He climbed up the ladder and went over to her bed. Just then the moon, which had been covered by scudding clouds, shone straight through the hole in the wall on to Heidi’s face. She was fast asleep under her heavy coverlet, one rosy cheek resting on her chubby little arm, and with such a happy expression on her face that she must surely have been dreaming of pleasant things. He stood looking down at her till clouds covered the moon again, darkening the room. Then he went back to bed.

Heidi was awakened next morning by a shrill whistle and as she opened her eyes a beam of sunlight came through the hole in the wall, making the hay shine like gold. At first she could not think where she was, then she heard her grandfather’s deep voice outside and remembered joyfully that she had come to live in the mountains. She had been glad to leave old Ursula, who was very deaf and felt the cold so much that she sat all day by the kitchen fire or the living‐room stove. Heidi had had to stay indoors where the old woman could see her, though she often longed to run outside and play. Now she jumped out of bed, full of excitement at all the new experiences awaiting her. She dressed herself as quickly as possible, then climbed down the ladder and hurried outside. Peter was waiting there with his herd and her grandfather was just bringing Daisy and Dusky from their stall. She went to say good morning to them all.

‘Do you want to go up to the pasture with Peter?’ asked the old man. This idea clearly delighted her. ‘You must have a wash first, or the sun will laugh to see you look so black.’

He pointed to a tub full of water, standing in the sun beside the door, and Heidi went over to it at once and began to splash about. Uncle Alp went indoors, calling to Peter, ‘Come here, General of the goats, and bring your knapsack with you.’ Peter held out the little bag which contained his meagre lunch, and watched with big eyes as the old man put in a piece of bread and a piece of cheese, both twice as big as his own.

‘Take this mug too, and fill it for her twice at dinner time. She doesn’t know how to drink straight from the goat as you do. She’ll stay with you all day, and mind you look after her and see she doesn’t fall down the ravine.’

Heidi came running in. ‘The sun can’t laugh at me now,’ she said. Her grandfather smilingly agreed. In her desire to please the sun, she had rubbed her face with the hard towel until she looked like a boiled lobster.

‘When you come home tonight, you’ll have to go right inside the tub like a fish, for you’ll get black feet running about with the goats. Now off you go.’

It was very beautiful on the mountain that morning. The night wind had blown all the clouds away and the sky was deep blue. The sun shone brilliantly on the green pasture land and on the flowers which were blooming everywhere. There were primroses, blue gentian, and dainty yellow rock‐roses. Heidi rushed to and fro, wild with excitement at sight of them. She quite forgot Peter and the goats, and kept stopping to gather flowers and put them in her apron. She wanted to take them home to stick among the hay in her bedroom, to make it look like a meadow.

Peter needed eyes all round his head. It was more than one pair could do to keep watch on Heidi as well as the goats, for they too were running about in all directions. He had to whistle and shout and swing his stick in the air to bring the wandering animals together.