



Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive








Transcriber's Note:
   1. Page scan source:
      http://www.archive.org/details/anoldstorymyfar00reutgoog

   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].

   3. Greek text is transliterated and bracketed [Greek: ].




         _Each volume sold separately at the price of M 1,60_.




                               COLLECTION

                                   OF

                             GERMAN AUTHORS


                           TAUCHNITZ EDITION.


                           *   *   *   *   *


                                VOL. 35.

                    AN OLD STORY OF MY FARMING DAYS.

                            By FRITZ REUTER.

                       IN THREE VOLUMES.--VOL. 2.



                      LEIPZIG: BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ.

            LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, LIMITED.
          ST. DUNSTAN'S HOUSE, FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET E.C.

      PARIS: LIBRAIRIE C. REINWALD, 15, RUE DES SAINTS-PERES; THE
                 GALIGNANI LIBRARY, 224, RUE DE RIVOLI.


         _This Collection of German Authors may be introduced_
                  _into England or any other country_.






                               COLLECTION

                                   OF

                            GERMAN AUTHORS.


                                VOL. 35.


                           *   *   *   *   *


                              AN OLD STORY
                  OF MY FARMING DAYS BY FRITZ REUTER.


                           IN THREE VOLUMES.
                                VOL. II.






                              AN OLD STORY

                           OF MY FARMING DAYS

                          _(UT MINE STROMTID)_


                                   BY
                             FRITZ REUTER,
                      AUTHOR OF "IN THE YEAR '13:"


                            FROM THE GERMAN
                                   BY
                            M. W. MACDOWALL.


                           IN THREE VOLUMES.
                                VOL. II.


                         _Authorized Edition_.




                              LEIPZIG 1878
                          BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ.

           LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON.
                  CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
          PARIS: C. REINWALD & CIE, 15, RUE DES SAINTS PERES.






                              AN OLD STORY

                           UT MINE STROMTID.




                               CHAPTER I.


On the 23rd of June 1843, the eldest son of David Daesel and the
youngest daughter of John Degel were seated on a bench in the
pleasure-grounds at Puempelhagen. They had gone out to enjoy the beauty
of the moonlight evening together. Sophia Degel said to her companion:
"What made you look so foolish, Kit, when you came back from taking the
horses over to meet the squire?"--"It was no wonder if I looked a
little foolish. He took me into the sitting-room at the Inn and showed
me his wife, and, says he, 'this is your new mistress.' Then she gave
me a glass of wine, and made me drink it at once"--"What's she like?"
asked the girl.--"Why," said Christian, "it's rather difficult to
describe her. She's about your height; her hair is bright and fair like
yours, and her colouring is red and white like yours. She has grey eyes
like you, and she has just such another sweet little mouth."--Here he
gave Sophia a hearty kiss on her pretty red lips.--"Lawk a daisy!
Christian!" cried the girl, freeing herself from his embrace, "I
suppose then that you gave her just such another kiss as you've given
me?"--"Are you crazy?" asked Christian, and then went on soothingly.
"No, that would have been impossible. That! sort have something about
them that doesn't go with our sort. The lady might have sat here on the
bench beside me till doom's day, and I'd never have thought of giving
her a kiss."--"I see!" said Sophia Degel, rising and tossing her pretty
head; "you think that _I_'m good enough for that sort of thing! Do
you?"--"Sophia," said Christian, putting his arm round her waist again,
in spite of her pretended resistance, "that kind of woman is far too
small and weakly for us to admire; why if I wanted to put my arm round
a creature like that--as I'm doing to you just now, Sophia--I'd be
frightened of breaking or crushing her. Nay," he continued, stroking
her hair, and beginning to walk home with her, "like mates with
like."--When they parted Sophia was quite friends with Christian again.
"I shall see the lady in the morning," she said, as she slipped away
from his detaining arm, "the girls are all going to make wreaths of
flowers to-morrow, and I'm going to help."

Every one at Puempelhagen was busy weaving garlands, and setting up a
triumphal arch across the avenue. Next morning Hawermann saw the last
touches put to the arch, to which Mary Moeller added a bunch of flowers
here, and a bit of green there, as it seemed to be required, and Fred
Triddelfitz fluttered about amongst the village-lads and lasses
as a sort of volunteer-assistant, in all the grandeur of his green
hunting-coat, white leather breeches, long boots with yellow tops, and
blood-red neck-tie. While they were employed in this manner, uncle
Braesig joined them in his very best suit of clothes. He wore pale blue
summer-trousers, and a brown coat which he must have bought in the year
one. It was a very good fit at the back, and was so long in the tails
that it nearly reached the middle of his calf, but it showed rather too
great an expanse of yellow pique waistcoat in front. As the coat was
the same colour as the bark of a tree, he might be likened to a tree
that had been struck by lightning, and which showed a broad stripe of
yellow wood in front where the bark had been torn away. He also wore a
black hat about three quarters of a yard high. "Good morning, Charles.
How are you getting on? Aha! I see that the erection is nearly
finished. It looks very nice, Charles--but still, I think that the arch
might have been a little bit higher, and you might have had a couple of
towers, one on the right hand and the other on the left. I once saw
that done at Guestrow in the time of old Frederic Francis, when he came
back in triumph! But where's the banner?"--"There's none," said
Hawermann, "we hav'n't one."--"Do try to remember where we can get one,
Charles. You can't possibly do without a flag of some kind. The
lieutenant was in the army, and so he must have a flag flying in his
honour. Moeller," he called without turning round, "just fetch me two
servant's sheets and sew them together lengthwise; Christian Paesel,
bring me a smooth straight pole, and you, Triddelfitz, get me the brush
you use for marking the sacks, and a bottle of ink."--"Bless me!
Zachariah. What on earth are you going to do?" asked Hawermann, shaking
his head.--"Charles," said Braesig, "it's a great mercy that the
lieutenant was in the Prussian army, for if he had been in a
Mecklenburg regiment we should never have managed to get the right
colours. Now it's quite easy to rig up a Prussian flag. Black ink and
white sheets! we want nothing more."--Hawermann at first thought of
dissuading his friend from making the flag, but on second thoughts he
let him go on unchecked, for, thought he, the young squire will see
that he meant it kindly.

So Braesig set to work, and painted a great "vivat!!!" on the sheets.
"Hold tight!" he shouted to Mary Moeller and Fred Triddelfitz who were
helping him, "I want to get 'Lieutenant and Mrs. Lieutenant' properly
written on the banner."--He had decided, after much thought, on putting
"Lieutenant and Mrs. Lieutenant" after the "vivat", instead of "A. von
Rambow and F. von Satrop" as he had at first intended, for von Rambow
and von Satrop are merely the names of two noble families, and he had
all his life had a great deal to do with people of that kind, while he
had never yet known a lieutenant, and therefore thought the title a
very distinguished one.

When the flag was finished he trotted across the court with it, and
stuck it up on the highest step of the manor-house, and then hastened
down stairs again to see how it looked from below. After