The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 08

CHAPTER IV
HOW THE EARS OF A SERVANT ARE OPENED TO A GOOD MASTER

Uli's answer was cut off by the cow, which proclaimed her pangs more clearly: now there was work to do, and the conversation could not be continued. All went well, and finally there was a handsome calf, coal-black with a white star, such as neither had ever seen; it was decided to raise it. Uli was twice as active and attentive as usual, and the little calf he treated quite gently, almost tenderly, and regarded it with real affection.

When they were done with the cow and she had had her onion soup, the morning was already dawning, and no time was left to continue their conversation.

The ensuing work-days engrossed them with various labors and the master was frequently absent on business in the neighborhood, so that they had no further talk together. But it seemed to be assumed by both that Uli was to remain, and when the master came home his wife could not praise Uli enough, saying how well he had performed his duty and that she had not had to give him any orders; he had thought of everything himself, and when she had thought of it it had already been done. This naturally pleased the master very much and caused him to speak with increasing kindness to Uli and to show more and more confidence in him. Nothing is more vexatious for a master than to come home in the evening tired or sleepy and find everything at sixes and sevens and his wife full of complaints; to see only half the work done that should have been accomplished, much of it botched and ruined, so that it had better have been let alone; and then into the bargain to hear his wife complain half the night how the servants had been unruly, had given impudent answers, and done just what they pleased, and how she hated to have it so—and if he ever went away again she would run off too. It is terrible for a man who has to go away (and the necessity arises occasionally) if the heavy sighs begin on the homeward road, as soon as he can see his house. What has happened today, he thinks—what shall I see and hear? And so he scarcely wants to go home at all; and whereas he would like to return with love and joy, he has to march with thunder and lightning into his rebellious realm.

In Uli something new had awakened and was filling his whole frame, without his rightly knowing it as yet. As time went on he had to think more and more of the master's words, and more and more he began to believe that the master was right. It was grateful to him to think that he was not created to remain a poor despised lad, but might yet become a man. He saw that wild ways would not bring him to that, and that the more he persisted in them the more ground he would lose. He was strangely affected by what the master had said about habits, and about the good name that one could get in addition to his pay, and so keep on earning more and more the more faithfully he worked; and how one could not look better to his own interest than by being very faithful in the service of his master.

He found himself less and less ready to deny that it was so. More and more examples kept occurring to him of bad servants who had become unhappy and remained poor, and on the other hand he remembered how he had heard others praised by their old employers, who told how they had had a good man or maid, and how these had done well and were now Well off.

Only one thing he could not understand—how he, Uli, should ever come to money, to wealth; that seemed absolutely impossible to him. His pay was thirty crowns in cash, that is, seventy-five francs; also two shirts and a pair of shoes. Now he still had debts of almost four crowns and had already drawn much pay. Heretofore he had never been able to keep within his income; and now he was to pay debts and save, and that seemed impossible to him, for in the natural course of things he was prepared to see his debts increase each year. Of the thirty crowns he needed at least ten for clothes, and even then he could not dress very elegantly; for stockings, shoes, shirts, of which he had only three good and four poor ones, washing, etc., at least eight crowns would go; a packet of tobacco every week (and he generally used more) made two crowns more; that left ten crowns. Now there were fifty Saturday nights, fifty Sunday afternoons, six of which were dance-Sundays at that; nobody knew how many market-days; then there was a review, perhaps even a quartering of soldiers, not counting all the chance occasions for a lark, such as weddings, shooting, bowling, the newly fashionable masquerades, and evening parties, the most dangerous of all evil customs. Independence Day, which degenerates into a perfect orgy of debauchery, was not then in vogue. Now if he figured only two pence a week for brandy or wine, that made four crowns again. If he skipped three dance-Sundays, still he needed at least a crown if he was to pay the fiddler, have a girl, and, as was customary, go home full; and often he needed a thirty-fiver for each of the other three Sundays. Now for the market-days, reviews, and other sprees he had only three crowns left. With this, he thought, it was really humanly impossible to get along; two markets and the review alone would use up more than that; so he had nothing at all for the rest. He figured it over and over, tried to cut down on clothes, on other expenses; but it couldn't be done. He had to be clothed and have washing done; nor could he run barefoot. And so, let him figure as he would, he always came to the sad result that, instead of putting by, he would be falling behind.

One day soon after this calculation master and man were hauling stones for a new stove. On the homeward way they stopped at an inn, for they had a long and hilly road. Since the master was not so niggardly as to order the poorest wine when the servant was with him, and only a halfpence worth of bread for the two, Uli became talkative as they proceeded. "Listen, master," said Uli, "I have been thinking that the pastor who gave you your instruction wasn't altogether a fool; but he didn't know anything about what pay a farmer lad gets and what he needs; I suppose he thought it was about as much as a vicar's pay. But you ought to know better, and that saving and getting rich are no go. I've spent many a day in figuring, till I was like to burst the top of my head off; but I always got the same result: nothing comes of nothing, and zero from zero is zero."

"Why, how did you figure?" asked the master.

Uli went through the whole account again for him, and when he was done he asked the master mockingly, "Now, what do you say to that? Isn't it so?"

The master said, "By your account, to be sure; but there's a very different way of reckoning, my lad. Here now, I'll figure it up for you my way; I wonder what you'll say to it."

"I won't change much what you put down for clothes. It's possible that if you want to keep yourself in good condition, and in particular to have shirts that will save washing, and to look as a self-respecting lad likes to look on Sundays and work-days, you'll need even more at first. But for tobacco you've put down two crowns, and that's too much. A man that has to go into the stable and on the barn-floor ought not to smoke all day, not till after working hours. You don't need to smoke to offset your hunger on my place, and if you could get out of the habit altogether it would help you a lot. When a man doesn't smoke he always increases his wages.

"The other ten crowns that you put down for amusements of all kinds I'll strike out, every one. Yes, open your mouth and look at me like a stork at a new roof. If you want to cure yourself and come to something, you've got to make some decent resolution at the outset—a resolution not to squander a single penny of your pay in any way. If you resolve simply to go gallivanting a little less often, to spend a little less than before, that's just throwing your money to the winds. Once in the tavern, you're no longer master of yourself; the old companionship, the old habit will carry you along, and you'll spend two or three weeks' pay again. Then the after-thirst will come and you'll have to improve other evenings, and more and more you'll lose all belief that you could ever help yourself up, you'll become slacker every day, and you'll despair of yourself more and more. Besides, it's not so dreadful as the face you makeup. See how many people never take a glass the year round, or go into a tavern. It's not only poor day-laborers, who have all they can do to keep off the parish, but some of them are well-to-do, even rich people, who've made it a habit never to spend anything uselessly, and they are not only contented but can much less understand how a reasonable man can enjoy idling than you are willing to understand me when I say a man can live without idling."

"I walked home once with a little man from the Langental market. He was surprised to find me going home so early; usually he had to go home alone, he said. I answered that I hadn't had anything more to do, and that I didn't care to sit in the tavern till evening; that it cost money and time, and a man didn't know when and how he would finally get home. He felt the same way, he said. He had begun with nothing and barely got along. For a long time he had supported father and mother alone, but now he had his home and farm paid for and every year two cows to sell, and not one of them under six hundred pounds. But he had never wasted a cent from the very beginning. Only once, he remembered, in Burgdorf he had bought a roll for a halfpenny without needing to—he could have stood it till he got home, and had a cheaper meal there. Well, I told him I couldn't say as much; many a penny I had wasted. But one could overdo it, too, for a man had to live. 'Yes, to be sure,' said he. 'I live too, and am happy. A farthing saved gives me more satisfaction than another man gets from spending a crown. If I hadn't begun that way I'd never have come to anything. A poor lad doesn't know enough to stop at the right time when once he begins; when he's thrown away one penny it pulls a dozen along after it. But you mustn't think I'm a miserable miser. Many a man has gone away empty-handed from the big farm-houses and has got what he needed from me. I didn't forget who has blessed my work and will soon demand an account from me.' At this I looked the little man up and down with great respect; nobody could have told what was in him from his looks. Before we separated I wanted to buy him a bottle of wine for his good advice. But he refused; he didn't need anything, and whether he squandered my money or his would come to the same thing on that future account. Since then I've never seen him; probably he's gone to his account by now, and if nobody had a worse one than he many a man would be better off.

"So this is my opinion: every single farthing of your pay that you spend for such useless things is ill spent. Stay at home, and you'll save not merely ten crowns, but a lot besides. All the servants complain how many shoes and clothes they need, when they have to be out in wind and weather; but do you know how most of their clothes are spoiled? By running around at night in all kinds of weather, through thick and thin, and with all that goes on then. If you wear your clothes twenty-four hours, you evidently use 'em up more than if it was only fourteen. You don't go calling in wooden shoes, and do you burst out more shoe-nails by day, or by night when you can't see the stones, the holes, or the ditches? And tell me, how do your Sunday clothes look after you've stumbled around in them drunk, pulled each other about, and rolled in the mud? How many a Sunday jacket has been torn to pieces, the trousers ruined, the hat lost!

"Many a man would surely need less for his clothes if he stayed at home; I say nothing about the girls. And think, Uli, if you need ten crowns now for such useless habits, in ten years you'll need twenty and in twenty forty, if you have them; for a habit like that doesn't stand still it grows. And doesn't that lead straight as a string to your old ways?

"Finally, Uli, you get not only thirty crowns, but also many a penny in the way of tips when a cow or a horse is sold, and the like. Use those when you must have an outing and can't give up the tavern. Out of that money you can drink a glass or two at a review, if you like, or put it by against your going into garrison; there'll be plenty for that. You've drawn a lot of your pay; but if you'll believe me and follow my advice you can get out of debt this year; and next year you can start laying by. And if you believe me, I don't say that I can pay you only thirty crowns. When a servant attends to his business and doesn't have his mind set simply on foolishness; when I can intrust something to him and things go the same whether I'm with him or not, so that I don't have to come home every time in anxiety lest something has gone wrong—then I won't haggle over a crown or two. Think of that, Uli: the better the habits, the better the name, the better the pay."

At these words Uli's mouth opened and his nose lifted, and at last he said that that would be fine, but it probably would never happen; he didn't think he could stand it.

"Well, try it a month and see how it goes; and don't think about gadding, drinking, and the tavern, and you can do it all right."

CHAPTER V
NOW COMES THE DEVIL AND SOWS TARES AMONG THE GOOD SEED

[Uli's fellow-servants, on his master's farm and on the neighboring ones, attempt to drag him back into his old ways, chiefly with ridicule and mockery. At times his resolution fails him, but he masters himself again. Then a bad-hearted neighbor, who hates Uli's master, tries to lure him away from his new faith. He praises Uli to the skies, tells him he is not properly appreciated, and poisons his mind against his master. Uli grows more and more puffed-up, and is about ready to be caught in the neighbor's snare; for the latter merely wishes to use him for his own selfish ends.]

CHAPTER VI
HOW THE WEEDS WERE UPROOTED FROM ULI

[A Neighboring village, Brandywine, is to play a championship game of hurnuss (a kind of ball game played in spring and autumn in the canton of Bern), with Uli's village, Potato Hollow. There is deep enmity between the two places, and the contest is likely to be bitter. The losing team must give the winners a full dinner, with plenty of wine. Uli's master urges him to refuse the invitation to play on the team; but the malicious neighbor talks him over. Though the Potato Hollowers use all their skill and cunning, even to cheating the umpire, they lose the game by one point; they must set up the dinner, which ends in a free fight. A victory in this comforts Potato Hollow somewhat. But two of the Brandywiners claim damages, and the local players are afraid of severe judgment if it comes to trial, it being not the first offense. They agree to a plan, devised by the malicious neighbor, to let the entire penalty fall on Uli's head, so that they can go scot-free. Uli is to confess himself the guilty party, and in return for this service the others, all wealthy farmers' sons, will reimburse him for all expenses and give him a handsome bonus besides. Uli's master overhears his neighbor talking to Uli, decides to interfere, and points out to him the noose into which he is running his head. He advises Uli to demand a written promise, signed by all, that they will do what has been agreed upon. Uli brings home the written promise and shows it to his master; it turns out to be nothing but a certificate that Uli is the guilty party. Uli is in consternation; but the master promises to help him out if he will abide by his word in the future. Accordingly, Johannes meets the scheming neighbor and advises him to have the other players settle up and leave Uli in peace, or else Uli may have occasion to show the paper to the governor. Uli hears nothing more about the affair.]

CHAPTER VII
HOW THE MASTER KINDLES A FIRE FOR THE GOOD SEED

[The author points out the disastrous consequences of giving the servants on a farm only unheated rooms to live in, and no access to the warm house; on Sundays they seek warmth in the public-houses or elsewhere, and terrible immorality results. Uli feels the need of a warm room to sit in, and the master invites him into the house. The maids are at first much put out, and the mistress too; but the master upholds Uli, and gradually the new custom wins favor and results in a betterment of all the servants.]

CHAPTER VIII
A SERVANT BECOMES PROSPEROUS AND SOON THE SPECULATORS APPEAR

[Uli becomes quite settled in steady habits, and soon has a nice little sum of money in hand. But others get wind of it, and they borrow various sums of him, promising to pay back at a certain time with interest. Soon Uli's money is all gone, but he exults in the thought of his interest. When the time for payment comes the debtors make excuses; and as time goes on and no money is forthcoming, Uli becomes anxious. At length the master notices his distress, finds out the trouble, and helps him to recover most of what he had lent, admonishing him hereafter to put his savings in the bank.]

CHAPTER IX
ULI GAINS PRESTIGE AND IMPRESSES GIRLS

[Uli's improvement proceeds steadily, and his self-respect with it. The two maids are greatly impressed by him, and both set their caps for him. Stini, the elder, is very ugly and cross-grained, but a good worker and very thrifty. Yrsi, on the other hand, is pretty and sweet-tempered, but lazy and heedless, and wants a husband so as to avoid working. Jealously the two watch each other's attempts to catch Uli, who is drawn now to Yrsi's prettiness, now to Stini's thrift. Their jealousy finally becomes so furious that Uli begins to cool off, which only makes them the more eager. Yrsi plans a master-stroke: she uncovers the liquid manure-pit, and Stini tumbles into it. When she is finally hauled out, not without difficulty and amid the gibes of the other servants, she falls like a tigress upon her rival, and the two roll in the dirt and become such a reeking ball of filth that no one ventures to touch them to pull them apart. But Uli has had enough of them both and is entirely cured, though not of his desire for marriage.]

CHAPTER X
HOW ULI SELLS A COW AND ALMOST GETS A WIFE

[Uli is sent to market with a cow, which he sells at a good profit. On the way home he encounters the daughter of a neighbor, struggling with four little pigs. She begs his assistance, and as they go along she gives him a glowing account of her father's prosperity and the size of her dowry. She invites him into a tavern on the way, and they take some refreshment together. Then she goes on about herself—how strong she is, and how much work she can do, and what a good catch she would make. Uli cannot get in a word edgewise, but is mightily impressed by her imposing vigor and her father's wealth, so that he goes home with his head in a whirl. The master and his wife are pleased with Uli's success, and the master hands over to Uli the profit he has made on the cow. Uli asks the master about the neighbor's Katie, saying that he thinks she would have him. The master, however, strongly dissuades him, pointing out that Katie might make a good field-hand, but not a good wife. She can make hay, but not soup; and there is not so much wealth, for the farm is badly managed. The boys will get the land, and the girls can take the leavings, which will not amount to very much. Besides, the girls are spoiled and will not know what to do on a small farm, after being used to a big one; and if Uli stays there he will simply be a servant without pay. Uli sees that the master is right, and decides to think no more of the matter.]

CHAPTER XI
HOW DESIRES TAKE FORM IN A SERVANT, AND HOW A GOOD MASTER REALIZES THEM

[Uli gradually reaches something like perfection, and his savings amount to a handsome sum. But the money seems to come too slowly, and he begins to feel impatient. The master is at first vexed, but sees that he must either pay Uli what will satisfy him, or let him go. Uli suggests buying or renting something, but the master will not hear to it; Uli has too little money for that. Then one autumn the master goes to market and encounters there a cousin, Joggeli, who has come, he says, to see Johannes. Joggeli tells his troubles: he and his wife are getting old and decrepit, and can no longer look after their large farm as formerly. Their son Johannes has become too stuck-up for the farm and now runs a tavern; their daughter is good for nothing, incompetent and lazy. The overseer whom he has had for eleven years has been cheating him right and left, and the other servants are hand in glove with him. Joggeli desires a new overseer, a first-class man on whom he can depend; he would pay as high as a hundred crowns if he could find what he wants. Johannes recommends Uli, and Joggeli comes to have a look at him. He does his best to find some fault in him, but can discover none. Johannes and his wife are both reluctant to let Uli go, but they think it is for his good, and so Uli is induced to hire out to Joggeli for sixty crowns, two pairs of shoes, four shirts, and tips. All hearts are heavy as New Year's approaches, when the change is to be made. The master himself plans to drive Uli over to his new place.]