The father of Hans
had been a dyer, and had at one time carried on rather a thriving
business in Mainz; but after his death Frau[1] Gensfleisch had gone with
her son to live at a little village called Steinheim, about three miles
from the city walls, where, on a few acres of land, bought with her
husband's savings, and laid out partly as garden, and partly as field
and vineyard, she contrived to live with this, her only child. Hans and
his mother cultivated the little garden, sowed their own crops of barley
and flax in their little fields, and tended and trained the vines in
their small vineyard. Strong and active, and fond of employment, the
life of the little Hans was one long course of busy industry, from the
sowing of seeds in Spring to the gathering in of their small vintage
late in the Autumn. And in the long winter nights, there was always too
much to do within the cottage walls, by the light of their pine wood
fire, for him ever to find the time hang heavy on his hands. One night
he would be busy helping his mother to comb and hackle her little store
of flax; on another he would mend the net, with which he at times
contrived to catch his mother a river fish or two for supper; and it
would be _play_ to him when nothing else was wanting his help, to
go on with the making of a cross-bow and arrows with which he intended
some day to bring down many a wild duck or wood-pigeon.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123