Cottage by the lake

Introduction

THIS touching life-picture from the land of Luther, which drew tears from our eyes, reminds us of his world-renowned Tree, — so full of delights, that we know not which bough to shake first, in culling its beauties, within the limited scope of an Introduction. It has been charmingly translated by Miss R. H, ScHivELY,from the German of ^^ Das Hduschen am See; oder, Wo die Noth am grossten, ist Oottes Hiilfe am nachsien," by Maetin Claudius.

This volume will supply a want in our Sunday-School Libraries, to which the religious press has called attention— books of a more devotional and evangelical character. The Wilmer family is characterized by all that makes the Schonberg-Cotta family so universally attractive. The home-life of Germany is rich in instructive lessons. — " When the need is sorest, God's help is nearest."

"Be firm, 0 pious Christian heart; When in sore need and grief thou art, — In God's great love confiding: On Him repose Thy foes and woes, Yield thee to His wise guiding."

Among the most interesting chapters are : — " The Wilmer Family;" "The Thunder-Storm;" "The Grand-

iii

IV INTRODUCTION.

mother;" "Friends in Need;" "Domestic Cares;" "War and Fire bring God's Blessing ever nigher;" "The Seasons — Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn;" "The Trees;" " The Raven ; " " The Story of the Water Nix ; " " The Christmas and New Year Festivals ; " ".The Chest and its Contents," connected with the (feejpZy interesting history of La Lire and his family, his misfortunes and deliverances. He was a faithful son and brother, and devoted his life and energies to save his family from poverty and misfortune, and rescued his beautiful and cherished sister, Louise, from a living death in a Parisian cloister. But at the risk of telling too much, as the children say, I will venture to enlarge upon the " Old Oak Tree " by the lake, and speak of the dear, blind grandmother who loved to sit under its shade, with the beloved children Anton and Rosa, — of her son Peter Wllmer and his "frau." She sought day by day to lead these precious souls to the knowledge of God in His Holy Word, and carefully to instruct them in Bibletruths and beautiful hymns with which her memory was richly stored, and which had often been her own and her children's consolation in their hours of distress. Under this oak she had played when a child ; hither, in joy and in grief, she had often come to pray alone ; here she still loved to sit, though her eyes could no longer be refreshed by the bright green of its leaves, — for their rustling and the plashing of the waves spoke to her of the past — of sorrow overcome by prayer — of hopes that extended beyond this world. Cherished by the thoughtful affection of her children, her spirit reverted to past memories. She recalled a fearful night, when the French had fled across the lake, pursued by the Prussians. There was a terrible slaughter, the earth was watered with blood, and "our cottage was

INTRODUCTION. V

full, now of friends, now of enemies." But her recollections were not always so mournful ; slie would tell them beautiful legends of the "Tree Fairies," and "the Water Nix." We can confidently recommend this book, translated with all elegance of diction, and with all the warmth and pathos of the German heart. We hope all our Sunday-school children will learn to love Nature, and enjoy trees and flowers and animals and birds, and then there will be no need of Reform Societies for Cruelty to Animals, or Policemen to watch wanton depredators upon our shade-trees or gardens. And may all our families be blessed as were the Wilmer family in devotion to each other, and to the aged Saint who was so beautiful an example of Christian faith and of love to Jesus. All classes will be instructed and elevated by this kind of literature. It has charms for the youthful and the mature, and will profit every one.

E. B. S.

Philadelphia, December, 1868.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE WILMER FAMILY . . . .9

II. THE THUNDER-STORM ... 16

III. THE GRANDMOTHER .... 19

IV. FRIENDS IN NEED 24

V. DOMESTIC CARES 27

VI. A STRANGER 33

VII. THE OFFER ' . . . . . . 38

VIII. THE WINTER 54

IX. THE SLEDS '.63

X. THE VISIT TO THE TOWN ... 69

XL THE CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL . . 76

XII. THE NEW YEAR 85

XIII. THE TREES 90

vii viii CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

XIV. THE LETTER 96

XV. THE END OF WINTER . . . .102

XVI. SPRING 104

XVII. THE DISCOVERY 110

XVIII. THE CHEST AND ITS CONTENTS . 124

THE

COTTAGE BY THE LAKE,

" When the need is sorest, God's help is nearest."

Chapter I. The Wilmer F A 31 1 L Y

T was a sultry August day. A painful, oppressive stillness reigned abroad. Not a leaf stirred. The little feathered dwellers of the woods fluttered uneasily from twig to twig, and retreated from the scorching rays of the sun, deeper and deeper into the shade of the old trees. Honest Peter Wilmer would gladly have followed their example ; but in the sweat of his brow must man eat his bread, and the sentence of the fall was this day literally fulfilled upon the worthy Peter and his wife.

With her assistance, he had just finished his last wagon-load of grain, and was now sauntering slowly along behind it, often wiping away the great drops that rolled down his face. His brisk wife, however, had laid her rake on the wagon, and, notwithstanding the heat, which rendered a stooping position very uncomfortable, was gathering the greens which grew along the road, as a dainty supper for her goat. But while her gaze was thus almost constantly fixed on the ground, Peter had, for some minutes, raised his anxiously toward the sky, watching the gathering clouds. He now tried, by repeated cracks of his whip, to hasten the heavy tread of his oxen; but the oxen did not seem to share his haste, and neither for coaxing nor for blows would they take one more rapid step. In despair at their stubbornness, Peter once more cast an inquiring glance at the threatening mass of clouds above, then looked at the lake along which his path lay ; it mirrored the dark sky, and looked as gloomy and threatening as the coming storm itself.

" Mother," he said at last, " you are so busy providing Greta's supper, that you do not notice the weather. I cannot make these animals move faster, and I am afraid I shall not get this wagon-load into the barn, before the storm comes on.

Eresh hay must satisfy the goat to-night — only do hurry home ! The grandmother would be uneasy if she heard the thunder before she knew we were near."

At this monition, Frau Wilmer raised her flushed face, and exclaimed, anxiously, —

" Oh, Peter, why did you not tell me sooner ? The storm will be upon us in an instant I How black the lake is, and how it froths and groans I the Nix down below is restless, — that is no good sign. And oh! the children, — if they have only not left their grandmother, and gone to play in the woods !"

Her motherly anxiety winged her steps. She scarcely heard Peter call after her to bring the cow with her calf from the neighboring pasture into the stable, and to open the gate. Already she heard the roaring, blustering wind. The rustling of the woods sounded like the distant wailing of spirits in pain. The surface of the lake, smooth until now, began to curl and heave ; it seemed as though everything around were at once endowed with life and motion, and a thousand tongues spoke together. The sun, just before so radiant with light and heat, had disappeared behind the blackening clouds, — the bright daylight gradually giving place to a dismal twilight. Frau Wilmer's heart throbbed anxiously. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, never stopping to take breath until she saw their pleasant dwelling peeping from among the trees which surrounded it. Her quick eye instantly perceived the grandmother sitting on the bench under the great linden before the door. She was holding the little four-years-old Rosa on her lap, while Anton, who was two years older, sat at her feet.

" Thank God I " exclaimed Frau Wilmer, " the grandmother is certainly telling one of her prettiest stories, or my little wild fawns would not sit so quiet there."

Now that she knew the children to be safe, she thought of poor Susie, still calmly grazing in the meadow, now and then caressing her little calf with her head.

" You must leave your feast earlier than usual to-day, good Susie,'' said Frau Wilmer, driving the animals rapidly before her.

And now soon she had reached the little house which had been her home for ten years, and which she loved as if she had never known another. It was indeed old ; in some places it bad given way under the pressure of all-conquering Time ; but Time, in compensation, bad witb gentle band so beautifully adorned it, and so carefully covered all tbe signs of age witb living green, tbat tbose traces could scarcely be discerned. In front, where tbe windows looked out upon the lake, it was thickly entwined witb green vines ; but on tbe other side, where the woods lay very near, and cast an almost perpetual shadow on tbe cottage, it was nearly covered witb ivy. Only the windows, like bright eyes, looked pleasantly out from tbe thick green, for even tbe straw thatch had long been clothed witb moss.

Peter Wilmer bad inherited this possession from bis parents. It bad belonged for centuries to the family of bis mother, and was endeared to her, as to Peter himself, by a thousand sweet and painful recollections. On tbe margin of tbe lake lay green pastures, and several grain-fields, of which a few were Peter's property. Most of them belonged to farmers who lived on the opposite shore. Peter's cottage was quite isolated, for tbe thick wood, a mile in extent, separated him from the nearest village on bis own side of the lake ; his nearest neighbor was the forester, who lived half a mile deeper in the wood. But the family was accustomed to this isolation, and scarcely ever found it irksome. Diligence and Cheerfulness were their companions, and they desired no others.

But when the hay-making time came, it was merry indeed by the lake, and upon it, for then the owners of the different £elds came over in boats to attend to the work. It was a festival time for the Wilmer family. Among the comers were many who were well known and much loved, — from many friendly lips sounded the warm " God's greeting to you 1 " It was true that Autumn scattered all these welcome guests •; and then it seemed more still and lonely than before. But when Winter gathered the family around the warm fireside, — when Frau Wilmer's wheel hummed busily and cheerfully, *and the grandmother freely shared with them the treasures of her experience, — then it seemed as though nothing could be more delightful than such repose from the severe labors of the year.

All these happy scenes, all the pleasant hours she had passed in that cottage, rose, quick as a flash, before Frau Wilmer's mind, as she appreached it ; yet these happy memories were accompanied by an uneasy foreboding. This, however, passed away as the children joyfully sprang up to welcome her, and grasping the hand which the grandmother held out to her, she said, —

'^I have run home as quickly as I could, grandmother, for I was anxious about you and the children. A fearful storm is coming on. Listen, it is thundering ! "

" I felt it, my child," replied the grandmother, " so I did not allow the little ones to leave me. The lake, too, has been sighing and murmuring all day. God be near us, and protect us I"

" Give me your hand, grandmother, and let me lead you into the house, and then I can attend to the animals. Anton, open the gate."

Frau Wilmer led the grandmother into the house, for she was blind. She seated her carefully in her arm-chair, and bade little Rosa stay with her, and not be afraid of the thunder. Scarcely had she placed all in safety, before Peter came into the barn-yard with his wagon-load ; and soon the little family were all gathered together in their sitting-room.

Chapter II. The Thunder-storm

[ND now the storm began to rage. The windows shook and rattled. The lofty trees of the wood bowed their heads. A fearful howling and roaring filled the air. The waves of the lake dashed high, and peal after peal of thunder, flash after flash of lightning, followed in rapid succession. Little Rosa hid her face in the bosom of her grandmother, whose lips were gently moving in prayer. Peter and his wife sat with clasped hands, and Anton could scarcely refrain from crying. Fran Wilmer's heart throbbed every moment more painfully. She seized the grandmother's hand, and asked with a trembling voice, —

" Oh, grandmother, have you ever known such a storm before ? " At the same moment little Rosa raised her head and said, —

THE THUNDER-STORM. 17

*' Have we been bad, grandmother, and is God scolding us ? "

The old lady rose, and repeated, softly but firmly, these words :

**No lightning, that its flaming path Athwart the sky doth rend.

Nor thunder peal, send'st Thou in wrath — Thou, Father, art our friend !

*' The soul that knows Thee not, alone, In danger can despair ; He who in Jesus is Thy Son, Trusts firmly in Thy care.

"Then peace and quiet shall be mine, Though thunders rage abroad ; Nought can I fear, for I am Thine, Hove Thee, 0 my God!"

All listened reverently. Yet, as if to put their confidence in God to immediate proof, a deafening peal of thunder at this moment resounded, accompanied by vivid lightning. The great linden before the cottage was cleft, and fell to the ground, its strong branches breaking in their fall the windows they had so long overshadowed. At the same instant a tongue of white flame leaped from the tree to the strawthatch, which blazed up immediately. 2* B

18 THE THUNDER-STORM.

" The house is on fire I " cried Peter Wilmer, and sprang in terror out of the door, to assure himself of the fearful truth. His wife and children followed him, with cries of alarm. But Wilmer quickly returned and said, —

*' O mother, it' is not God's will that you should die in the home of your fathers ! You must leave it at once, never to return I"

" The whole earth is the Lord's, my son," said the aged woman, with a trembling voice, as she quitted the dwelling endeared to her by its associations with all she had ever cherished.

Wilmer hastily led his mother to the shelter of an old oak on the shore of the lake. Frau Wilmer soon regained her composure, and, with Anton's assistance, brought out her beds, and whatever else she could save, while Wilmer himself hastened to set his animals at liberty, for the wind was already driving the flames toward their stables. But this sad business was soon over ; they had scarcely half an hour for it ; then the cottage walls fell, and the other buildings soon followed.

Of his cottage, and all the little possessions it had contained, little remained to good Peter Wilmer but ashes.

Chapter III. The Grandmother

jLTHOUGH the grandmother was the feeblest and most dependent of the family, yet it seemed as if all the rest looked to her for help, comfort, and advice. As the cottage-walls came with a great crash to the ground, Fran Wilmer fell weeping on her bosom, and the children clung to her knees. It was indeed like a two-edge<] sword to her soul — the sad certainty which that sound brought to her, that the dwelling in which she and her parents had known all the joys and sorrows of their lives, was now no more ; burning tears rolled slowly from her sightless eyes, and down her withered cheeks. But she controlled her emotion, and said, soothingly, —

" ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord ! '

20 THE GRANDMOTHER.

" ' My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of Him ; for whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth ! ' For we know that ' all things shall work together for good to them that love God.' Why do we mourn, my children? Should we not rather be thankful that God has so long allowed us to enjoy what He has now taken from us ? That roof has sheltered me for seventy years — is not that long enough for gratitude ? Do we not now for the first time realize the great blessings we have enjoyed, now that they are no longer ours ? "

" 0 mother," said Wilmer, " it is not for myself— not for us, who are young and strong — that I grieve, but that you should not have where to lay your head I The wind disturbs your gray hair, and I can give you no shelter from it ! Where will you stay until I can bring you into my own house again?"

" My son," she replied gently, " do not be distressed for me. He who appoints for the clouds and the winds their course, will also direct the path my feet are to tread. See, the storm is over ; I felt a warm sunbeam fall on my hand

THE GRANDMOTHER. 21

through the branches. Perhaps there is a rainbow in the sky. It might be to us a token of comfort and of promise."

" Yes, grandmother," said Anton, " there is a great broad bow that stretches across the lake ; you told us that God made it when the flood was over, and He was no more angry with the earth. Does it not show, grandmother, that He loves us, and will help us ? "

" Yes, indeed, my child," said the aged woman. " ' Pray and labor ever, (jrod's help will fail thee never.' "

Destitute as their condition at this moment was, yet Peter and his wife felt encouraged and strengthened by the patient submission of the grandmother. The only care of both was now to make her as comfortable as the circumstances would allow. Wilmer had led her under an oak which was the dearest to her of all the trees by the lake. There she went with the children on warm days, and there Peter had contrived a comfortable seat for her. The oak was very old. Time had long ago hollowed its trunk, and the plashing waves of the lake had by degrees washed away the earth from its roots on that

22 THE GRANDMOTHER.

side, so that they stretched, long and bare, down into the water. Still its branches were green, and spread far out over the lake, and over the grandmother's seat. Under this oak she had played, when a child ; hither, in joy and in grief, she had often come to pray alone ; here she still loved to sit, though her eyes could no longer be refreshed by the bright green of its leaves. For their rustling, and the plashing of the waves, spoke to her of the past — of sorrow overcome by prayer — of hopes, that extend beyond this world. Here now she sat, surrounded by the thoughtful affection of her children, and her spirit reverted to the memories of the past.

"It is not the first time, my son, that I have passed a night under this tree," she said. " That was a fearful night ; the earth was watered with blood. The French had fled across the lake pursued by the Prussians. There was a terrible slaughter ; our cottage was full, now of friends, now of enemies. We left it, not knowing whither we should go, for the woods were thronged with fugitives and pursuers. When night came, all was still, but we did not venture

TEE GRANDMOTEER. 23

to return to the house ; so we hid under this oak, which was then surrounded by bushes. On reaching it, we started in terror at seeing a soldier spring out from among them. He must, however, have been as much frightened as we were, for he ran as fast as he could to the woods near by. But the tree was all stained with blood — perhaps he was not able to go very far."

Chapter IV. Friends In Need

HE grandmother's reminiscences were interrupted by the exclamation of the children :

" Here come people from the other side of the lake I "

Several boats were indeed approaching, bringing good neighbors from the town on the opposite shore, to offer comfort and assistance. Among these neighbors was Henry the smith, a man seventy years of age, who first approached the grandmother, while the rest manifested their sympathy to Peter and his wife.

" God help you, Grandmother Wilmer ! this is a terrible calamity ! But I know you will bear it piously and patiently, as you have endured so many greater trials."

"You are right, Henry," she replied, immediately recognizing the smith by his voice ; " this i

FRIENDS IN NEED. 25

is not the greatest trial the Lor.d has ever sent upon me. When my husband and two children died of a nervous fever, then, indeed. Father Henry, it was hard to say, * Lord, Thy will be done ! ' "

" Yet still you are kept faithful, and God helping, you will overcome this affliction too. My wife is preparing a comfortable room at home for you and the children. You must go home with me, and we will find some way to help your son and his good wife, too. His house must be walled and roofed this fall, so that it can be finished next spring. Take courage, friend Peter ! we will all lend a hand to-morrow to build a place that you can live in at least as long as you have work to do here ; through the winter you will have to live in the town."

The good man's offer was gratefully accepted. The grandmother and the children were warmly welcomed into the family of the excellent smith, and the other neighbors gave Peter all the assistance in their power. "With their help, he soon had a cabin for himself and his wife ; and then the work of rebuilding the cottage commenced in earnest. Old Henry proved himself a true 3

26 FRIENDS IN NEED.

friend in need, advancing to Peter the necessarymoney, as well as the seed-corn required for his ground. Yet while Peter made the furrows in his field, care and anxiety were tracing their lines upon his forehead ; his mother's pious resignation, however, strengthened his courage and his trust in God — and this kept him from despair.

Chapter V. Domestic Cares

|HREE years had passed away. A clean, pleasant dwelling stood in the place of the old one, and a convenient stable had been built for Susie and Greta and the oxen. There was a new barn, too, and on it, to the children's unspeakable delight, a stork had built her nest. Yes, and more than this, before leaving them the last autumn, she had brought them a darling little sister, the pet and the joy of the family. The grandmother again had her comfortable arm-chair by the fireside, and instead of the great linden, young and slender fruit-trees were for the first time blossoming before the door. New vines were already climbing the walls of the house — everything wore a new and fresh aspect. But diligently as Peter Wilmer and his wife labored, care had taken up its abode with them, and would not be driven away. The old proverb, often repeated by the grandmother —

" War and Fire Bring God's blessing ever nigher,"

seemed unfulfilled to them. Peter Wilmer had not yet reaped one abundant harvest; and besides, " Interest ate from their dish," and where this is the case, runs another old saying, " the housefather rises hungry from the table." It was not yet quite so bad as this for worthy Peter ; their dish had been, thus far, abundantly supplied, with a piece of meat on it, too, for him and for the old grandmother. Yet Peter's countenance was always clouded with anxiety, and many tears flowed in secret from "the eyes of his wife. For some months the sun had shone with scorching heat on fields unrefreshed by rain. The grain sprang up very thinly, and there was reason to fear an entire failure of the crop. Peter still owed some of the interest due the preceding year, and if he could sell none of this year's corn, his situation would be very embarrassing. The good smith, who had lent him his capital, was now dead, and his heirs were hard, avaricious men, who had ah'eady threatened him with the sale of his property. So the summer passed away amid tormenting anxieties. Harvest-time came, but this year it was no joyous festival ; the sheaves were stored in the barn with heavy sighs, for the supply was but scanty for home need, not to speak of selling any. Frau Wilmer's closest economy availed but little. The dish which formed their noon-day meal was much less than it had formerly been, and only for the grandmother was there a little piece of meat in it. For Wilmer and his wife strove to conceal the situation of the family from her, as long as possible ; and they were often thankful for the blindness which, they supposed, prevented her seeing the trouble written so plainly on their faces.

The cold autumn wind now played among the heaps of yellow, fallen leaves, and whistled dismally through the tree-tops. The nest on the barn had long been deserted. The lake gave out such gloomy sounds, that the children's hearts were often filled with fear, and in the twilight they pressed close to their grandmother's chair. The more desolate and dreary the face of Nature became, the heavier grew poor Peter's heart. His creditor, Martin, came to see him, and Peter had not a single thaler to pay him. He had in vain entreated the hard man to have patience with him, and now he felt that he must prepare for the worst. On that day they sat down to their dinner in gloom and sorrow, and though the dish was sparingly filled, when they rose it was not empty, for neither Peter nor his wife could eat.

" My children," said the grandmother at last, " though I am blind, I can see your troubled faces as clearly as if the light had never been denied me. Let me remind you of those words of the Holy Book to all the heavy-laden, which perhaps in your despondency you have forgotten. * Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat ? Behold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they ? Therefore take no thought, for your Heavenly Father knoweth that 3^e^have need of all these things.^

*' ' Be firm, 0 pious Christian heart ! When in sore need and grief thou art, In God's great love confiding ; On Him repose Thy fears and woes, Yield thee to His wise guiding.' "

Peter pressed his mother's hand affectionately, saying,—

*' Indeed, mother, I have often been encouraged by your pious words and hymns — this time they have given me counsel, too. The day after to-morrow will be market-day over in the town. If the storm abates sufficiently for me to cross the lake, I will take Susie over. She is an excellent milch-cow, and I think I shall get about as much for her as I owe to Martin. Why should we not part with her, dear wife ? she eats many a piece of bread and salt, and Greta gives milk enough for the children."

A minute's silence followed this proposition ; but then liosa and Anton burst out in passionate tears and sobs.

"Sell poor Susie!" exclaimed Frau Wilmer in a tone of alarm ; but she quickly recovered herself, and said, —

" You are right, Peter ; it must be so. Poor Susie ! But then it is all we can do."

" That is right, my children," added the grandmother ; ''we must not set our hearts so fondly on earthly possessions, that we sit with our hands folded, refusing to yield them. We shall all feel pain at parting with Susie, but we must reconcile ourselves to it."

Rosa and Anton ran out to the stable, to look as often as possible at the poor animal. With sorrowful tears they stroked her glossy sides, and talked to her of the approaching separation. The matter was positively settled ; for by this sacrifice alone could the most pressing need be for a while averted from the family.