Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-03-10
The Peasants Savings.
BY BERTHoLD AUERBACH.

BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH.
A peasant, who treated his old father,
who could no longer work, in the harsh
est and most penurious way, one day saw
his little son scooping trough out of
block of wood.
"What are you making there? ?" in
CURED he.
"Tm whiting trough" replied
the boy, for you to eat out of when you
get old"
The father was about to give him a
smart box on the ear, but some invisible
influence restrained his hand. He saw
how Just a retribution that would be for
his conduct toward his own father, and he
became gentle and considerable, thereby
securing blessing upon his own heart,
and that also of his father and of his
child.
Yes, the manner in which the peasants
live, who have given up their property to
their children, and are too old to labor, is
often Of the most revolving description.
However exactly everything may be set
down in the documents drawn up when
the property is handed over, no stamped
pdpeE Cdu iuEulsu Ava
the absence of love and kind attentions;
and there is no helpful remedy TO be found
by going to law. Where the heart Is
wanting, all is wanting. The great poet
Shakespeare has depicted, in the most pa
thetic manner, the life and mournful end
of one who had thus turned himself out
of house and lands. The man whom he
brings before us in his drama cannot
make his complaint to the legal authorl-
ties for he is a king who has divided his
him harshly, and want to chance his hab-
it's and mode of life. 1t is King Lear.
And what is here represented in regard
to king, is no less true in more humble
positions, and presents an equally pitt
able spectacle. No law of the State can
be of any help here; it is the heart that
is in question.
In my journeyings I have often sat
down by the side of such lonely old peas
ants. / have tried to cheer them up, and
direct their attention to various matters
but have generally found that they can
not fix their minds upon any particular
subject, and have lost the power of hear
ing, even if they are not deprived OF the
external sense they have but one single
thought, one overcoming theme, which
they involuntarily mutter to themselves,
frequently interspersing prayer. Then
they stare vacautly before them, with
mouth wide open, or become sunk in
dreamy vacuity, looking only to death
for deliverance. III the pastors cannot be
of any assistance here, then 1t is the
bounden duty of each neighbor TO do
what he can TO encourage aud cheer. But
most people live only for themselves, and
think they have done enough as long DIS
they keep themselves from positive
wrong Few feel it incumbent upon them
TO prevent misdoing, aud to be un wearied
in persistent attempts to ameliorate the
unhappy condition of others. Therefore
80 much the more agreeable is it that l
can now relate pleasant experience
which occurred to me in one of my recent
excursions.
1t was g beautiful warm summer after
noon among the Hartz mountains. l was
going to the Brocken, and loitered through
little valley, along II narrow path which
led to the mountain side. A poor old
man with thin, snow white hair WAS sit
ting by tho wayside; he had IA long, brown
SbdIl, cut IIOUl al buUEly bStWt6u Ills
knees. / sat down by him, asking his
name and way of life and the old man
told me that he had formerly been forest
keeper; there was no rock which could be
climbed, and no ravlue whiuh he had not
over and over again explored. And do
you see," he snid, '.those fir trees up there?
I planted them. Every day when went
to the mountain, carried my game-bag
full of earth up with me, and there in the
crevices where the rocks gave me the
least chance, fixed it firmly and then l
waited till the grass and briers grew out
of ii, and make the earth cling closer to
the rocks; then | carried the little sap
lings up and planted them. My Fabian,
my eldest, who was long in the army, and
at last was killed by falling tree, often
helped me about it If you come up you
can see the trees. / can't see them now
very WELL" aT
"And with whom do you live now?" l
asked. 4s #a
with whoms with whom ~ repeated
the old man, gazing at me. with no.
body. / have nobody left in the world.
Yes, have one son left, he may be in the
world but / don't know
"And what do you live on ?"
II have my pension, twenty flour thalers
u year but everything is 40 dear now" )
"But doesn't your sou write to you, or
send you any thing p
HE never learned to write, and one
can only send when he has any thing him
self. But he's the best fellow in the
world, good child, faithful child, he
left me his whole property. But l don't
touch il, it's just as it was am no
spendthrift. No, Henry, your father
won't rob you of your money"
With many digressions, / heard the
following story: za a
1t might be about eighteen years before,
perhaps longer, for the old man was very
uncertain in his figures -"thirty years
ago" he said of everything, which might
have taken place only two OF three years
before-ethe youngest son OF the keeper
had been tempted to emixrate to America,
tho country where, as ths old man cx-
pressed himself, there were great forests
that had never seen AN AK, 10 be cleared
away before the settlers. The son had an
inhsritsnce from his neither, amounting
to one hundred tbslera The old man