Kitabı oku: «Mitz and Fritz of Germany», sayfa 5

CHAPTER XI
EISENACH AND BACH

"Our great chance will come in Leipzig," said Mitzi.

She was sitting on the steps of their wagon, sewing. Fritz sat beside her. He held an open book in his hands.

The Toymakers had made their camp outside of Eisenach (Ī´zĕn-äk). Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker had gone to town, leaving Mitz and Fritz with the wagon. Mitzi wanted to finish that costume before they arrived in Leipzig. Fritz was reading about Johann Sebastian Bach (Bäk), who was born in Eisenach.

"Bach came from a family of musicians," read Fritz. "The name 'Bach' means 'brook.' Beethoven once said, 'He is not a brook but an ocean!'"

"Come," interrupted Mitzi. "Try on the cloak. I am afraid I have made it too large."

"No," said Fritz, as he tried it on. "It fits me perfectly. How pretty it is, and how clever is my Mitz!"

Mitzi waggled her head proudly.

She said, "Many people will be in Leipzig for the fair. When you give your concert, I'll fetch Father and bring him to where you are playing. Oh, how surprised and pleased he'll be!"

Fritz smiled. Then he went on reading from his book while Mitzi sewed.

"'When Bach was a boy,'" read Fritz, "'his father died and he lived with his brother Christoph. One day Christoph brought home a book full of beautiful music. The little boy longed to play it. But Christoph was jealous of Sebastian's talent. He refused to let him have the music book and locked it up.

"'Poor Sebastian wanted very much to play that music. So every night he got up and stole downstairs into the music room. He pulled the book out from between the bars of the bookcase. He sat in the light of the moon and copied the notes.

"'At last, after many weeks, he had copied the whole volume. He went to sleep with his work under his pillow. He was very happy. But next day a terrible thing occurred. While Sebastian was playing the music on the harpsichord, his brother Christoph came in. When Christoph saw what the boy had done, he took away Sebastian's precious copy book.'"

"And what happened then?" asked Mitzi.

She was interested in this poor little fellow who had longed so much for music. She was very angry with the brother.

Fritz read on: "'Sebastian fell ill. He was so unhappy that he could not eat. Then, one day he discovered that he could play the beautiful music without notes. It was all written in his heart!'"

"Ah," said Mitzi. "That is good!"

"'But just as he was playing it,'" continued Fritz, "'in came his brother Christoph again – '"

"The goose!" sniffed Mitzi.

"'Christoph stood in the doorway listening,'" read Fritz. "'At first he was ready to stop the playing. But at last it dawned upon him that his little brother was truly a great artist.'"

"So he stopped being jealous?" asked Mitzi.

"Yes," said Fritz. He closed the book and sighed, adding, "It must have been terrible for Sebastian when his brother took away the music he loved."

Mitzi sighed, too. Then she jumped up quickly, frightening Fritz so that he fell off the steps.

"But now I am hungry," said Mitzi. "Let us go and get some cheese!"

CHAPTER XII
A CASTLE AND THE POET CITY

As the Toymaker family drove away from Eisenach, they passed below the Wartburg (Värt´bo͝ork) Castle. Mrs. Toymaker asked her husband to stop. She wanted the children to see this historic place. The castle stands high on a crag.

As they walked toward it, Mrs. Toymaker said, "It was here that Martin Luther translated the Bible from Latin into German so the German people could read it. There is a tale of how the Devil appeared before Luther, who threw an inkwell at the Devil's head. The spot where that inkwell hit the wall is still to be seen in the castle."

"Please tell us another story about the castle," said Fritz.

"St. Elizabeth was Countess of Wartburg," said Mrs. Toymaker. "She had a heartless husband, who did not want her to be kind to the poor and sick. Upon one occasion he met her going out of the castle carrying a basket.

"'Where are you going? And what have you in that basket?' he asked.

"Now, Elizabeth had loaves of bread in the basket. She was taking them to a poor old woman. But she was afraid of her husband's wrath.

"So she answered, 'I have only roses in the basket.'

"The Count, her husband, looked into the basket to be sure. And, behold, the Countess had spoken truthfully. The loaves of bread had been turned into roses!"

Had Mrs. Toymaker and the children gone into the castle, they would have seen pictures of this story drawn upon the walls. But they did not go inside. They went back to their wagon and proceeded on their way.

"I hope that my friend, Mr. Krauss, will be in Leipzig," said Mr. Toymaker. "Mr. Krauss is a bookseller. He will surely help me. He may even start a toy shop for me in Leipzig. I hope I shall find Mr. Krauss!"

However, before they reached Leipzig, they stopped in Weimar (Vī´mär), the "poet city."

Weimar is where Goethe (Gȗ´tẽ), Germany's greatest poet, once lived. School children were taught to salute the poet Goethe, when they passed him on the street. Today children are still taken to Weimar by their teachers and told about Goethe's life.

Long ago, a little boy was brought to Weimar to visit at the old poet's home. This little boy was about the same age as Fritz and also loved music. Felix Mendelssohn (Mĕn´dĕl-sōn) was his name. Goethe met young Mendelssohn in the garden and led him into the house and to the piano.

He said, "Now, make a little noise for me."

Felix played so beautifully that Goethe said, "You have given me great pleasure. What would you like me to do for you?"

Felix answered, "I should like you to kiss me."

Mitz and Fritz had heard many stories about Felix Mendelssohn. He was their mother's favorite composer.

She had told them how this wonderful boy had written music when he was only a baby. She had told them about the way Felix used to lead a big orchestra. He had been so small that he had had to stand upon a chair.

But Mrs. Toymaker did not know that her own little boy had a gift, too. Sometimes she wondered, of course. Still she agreed with Mr. Toymaker that very few people are born with genius. Only naughty little Mitz was sure because she loved Fritz so much. She loved him and made up her mind that everyone in the world was going to find out about his beautiful music.

As they left Weimar, Mitzi squeezed her brother's hand.

"We are on our way to Leipzig now," she said.

She thought of the costume safely tucked away and ready for Fritz to put on.

Mr. Toymaker was driving the horse, and Mrs. Toymaker sat beside him.

"We are on our way to Leipzig now," said Mr. Toymaker.

He thought of the famous fair to which they were going. He thought of his friend, Mr. Krauss, who would help him. But never once did he think of a concert that was to be given for him.

CHAPTER XIII
THE LEIPZIG FAIR

One of the great fairs of the year was now going on in Leipzig. The Toymakers drove by the railway station, the largest in Europe. Many people were hurrying in and out. They passed the church where Johann Sebastian Bach used to sing.

All manner of peddlers swarmed the streets. The children opened their eyes wide at sight of one man entirely covered by clocks. He was a clock peddler from the Black Forest. Traders from all over the country were in Leipzig with their wares. Buyers from every place were at the fair to buy.

"See, children," said Mrs. Toymaker. "There is a statue of Mendelssohn, the little boy who used to lead an orchestra. When he grew up, he led his orchestra in that building."

Leipzig is a city of books. Everyone seems to be reading. They read even as they stroll along the streets.

Mr. Toymaker immediately set out to find his friend, Mr. Krauss, the bookseller. But he could not find his friend.

The first day at the market place was very dismal. Nobody paid any attention to Mr. Toymaker's wares. There were too many beautiful toys to be seen.

"It is the same here as it was in Nuremberg," said Mrs. Toymaker.

Her sweet face was sad. "Oh, what are we to do?" the poor lady was thinking.

But Mitzi knew what to do. Tomorrow she and Fritz intended to slip away from their booth in the market place. Today their father needed them there to help.

Mr. Toymaker had displayed his prettiest toys: brightly colored soldiers, flaxen-haired dolls, and animals with big, staring-eyes. Yet even children did not stop. At a shop across the square were dolls that talked and walked, engines that sped along tracks, airplanes that flew, and doll houses with electric lights in them and elevators and running water. Is it any wonder that Mr. Toymaker's carved toys did not attract people?

"Run back to the wagon and make some coffee," said Mrs. Toymaker to Mitz and Fritz. "Father and I will stay here a little longer. When we get home we shall have supper."

"But there is nothing to eat in the wagon," said Mitzi.

Mrs. Toymaker looked at her husband. Mr. Toymaker turned to Mitzi.

"Obey your mother," he said. "Go home and make coffee. When we come, we shall bring food with us."

Mitz and Fritz and Frank went slowly back to the wagon.

"I do not understand how Father can bring food," said Mitzi. "There is certainly no money with which to buy it."

"Tomorrow there will be money," smiled Fritz.

"Yes," agreed Mitzi. "Because of your concert. And Father must be there to see." Suddenly she cried, "Oh, careful, you donkey! You are splashing in mud puddles. You are getting your feet all wet!"

But Fritz did not care. He was dreaming. He liked mud puddles because he was a boy. He liked dreams because he was an artist.

When they reached their wagon home, Mitzi put the coffee on the stove. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker arrived. Their arms were full of bundles.

"See what a nice supper we are to have," said Mrs. Toymaker.

She was smiling, but Mitzi noticed that there were tears in her blue eyes. Mitzi noticed something else besides the tears.

"Mother!" she cried. "Where is your pretty blue necklace?"

Mrs. Toymaker had always worn a string of sparkling blue beads. They were quite valuable and were her only piece of jewelry. She had loved them because Mr. Toymaker had given them to her before Mitz and Fritz were born.

Mrs. Toymaker did not answer Mitzi. She began to untie the bundles.

"See," she said. "Black bread and milk!"

"But, Mother," insisted Mitzi, "where is your necklace? Have you lost it?"

Mrs. Toymaker saw the terror in Mitzi's eyes. That necklace had seemed to the little girl the finest and prettiest in all the world. Her mother was not her mother without it.

Mrs. Toymaker did not know what to say. She drew Mitzi close and kissed her.

But Mr. Toymaker said, "Enough of this, Mitzi. Go and help prepare the supper. You are too curious!"

"But, Father – " began Mitzi.

"Very well, then," said Mr. Toymaker. "I shall tell you. We sold the necklace so that we could buy food. Now, are you satisfied?"

Mr. Toymaker's voice sounded cross. But his face looked very worried.

"Oh, the beautiful necklace!" cried Mitzi.

Mr. Toymaker untied a package.

"Oh, the beautiful cheese!" he sniffed.

He was trying to make the best of things. He was trying to be jolly – poor Mr. Toymaker!

"One cannot grieve about neck decorations," he said, "when the stomach cries out to be decorated!"