THE TWINS LEARN A NEW TRADE
AT five o'clock the next morning Father and Mother Adolf were
already up, and the cuckoo woke Fritz, but though he shouted five
times with all his might and main, neither Seppi nor Leneli
stirred in their sleep.
"Fritz, go wake the Twins," said Mother Adolf, when he came to
the door of the shed where she was milking the goats. "Only don't
wake the baby. I want her to sleep as long as she will."
"Yes, Mother," said Fritz dutifully, and he was off at once,
leaping up the creaky stairs three steps at a time.
He went first to Leneli's bed and tickled her toes. She drew up
her knees and slept on. Then he went to Seppi's bed, and when
shaking and rolling over failed to rouse him, he took him by one
leg and pulled him out of bed. Seppi woke up with a roar and cast
himself upon Fritz, and in a moment the two boys were rolling
about on the floor, yelling like Indians. The uproar woke Leneli,
and the baby too, and Mother Adolf, hearing the noise, came
running from the goat-shed just in time to find Seppi sitting on
top of Fritz beating time on his stomach to a tune which he was
singing at the top of his lungs. The baby was crowing with
delight as she watched the scuffle from Leneli's arms.
Mother Adolf gazed upon this lively scene with dismay. Then she
picked Seppi off Fritz's stomach and gazed sternly at her oldest
son. "Fritz," said she, "I told you to be quiet and not wake the
"I was quiet," said Fritz, sitting up. "I was just as quiet as I
could be, but they wouldn't wake up that way, so I had to pull
Seppi out of bed; there was no other way to get him up." He
looked up at his mother with such honest eyes that in spite of
herself her lips twitched and then she smiled outright.
"I should have known better than to send such a great overgrown
pup of a boy as you on such an errand," she said. "Bello would
have done it better. Next time I shall send him.
"And now, since you are all awake, I will tell you the great news
that Father told me last night. He has been chosen by the commune
to take the herds of the village up to the high alps to be gone
all summer. He will take Fritz with him to guard the cattle while
he makes the cheese. There is no better cheese-maker in all the
mountains than your father, and that is why the commune chose
him," she finished proudly.
More than anything else in the world, every boy in that part of
Switzerland longs to go with the herds to the high mountain
pastures for the summer, and Fritz was so delighted that he
turned a somersault at once to express his feelings. When he was
right side up again, a puzzled look came over his face, and he
said, "Who will take care of our own goats?"
"Ah," answered his mother, and she sighed a little. "There is no
one but Seppi and Leneli. Together they must fill your place, and
you, Fritz, must take them with you to-day up the mountain to
learn the way and begin their work."
"To-day! This very day?" screamed the Twins. They had never been
up to the goat-pastures in their lives, and it was a most
Then Leneli thought of her mother. She flung her arms about her
neck. "But who will stay with you, dear Mother?" she cried. "All
day you will be alone, with everything to do and no one to speak
to but the baby."
"Yes," sighed the mother, "that is true. It will be a long,
lonely summer for me, but there is no other way, so we must each
do our part bravely and not complain. It is good fortune that
Father and Fritz will both be earning money in the alps, and,
with wise old Bello to help you, you will soon be as good
goatherds as your brother. Come, now, hurry and eat your
breakfasts, for the goats are already milked and impatient to be
She took Roseli in her arms and disappeared down the stairs, and
when, a few moments later, the Twins and Fritz came into the
kitchen, she had their breakfast of bread and milk ready for
them, and their luncheon of bread and cheese wrapped in a clean
white cloth for Fritz to put in his pocket.
Father Adolf came back from the garden, where he had been hoeing
potatoes, to see the little procession start away for the hills.
First came the goats, frisking about in the fresh morning air and
jingling all their bells. Then came Bello, looking very
important, then Fritz with a cock's feather in his cap and his
little horn and his cup slung over his shoulder, and last of all
"It's a long way, my children," said Mother Adolf, as she kissed
them good-bye. "Your legs will get tired, but you must climb on
just the same. If every one stopped when he was tired, the
world's work would never be done. Learn the way carefully and
remember always to pray if any danger comes. You are very near
the good God on the mountain, and He will take care of you if you
ask Him, never fear."
"Obey Fritz," said Father Adolf, "and do not stray off by
yourselves. Stay always with Fritz and the goats."
"We will," cried the Twins, and away they ran to join their
brother, who was already some little distance ahead of them. They
turned as the path rounded the great cliff where the echoes
lived, and the Twins waved their hands, while Fritz played his
merry little tune on the horn. Then the rocks hid them from view,
and the long climb began in earnest.
It was many rough uphill miles to the alps where the goats were
pastured, and the stout little legs ached with weariness long
before they reached the patches of green grass which were
reserved for them. On the way up they passed fields where cows
were grazing, and Bello had hard work to keep the goats in the
path, but these pastures were only for cows, and goats were not
allowed in them. For two hours they climbed steadily up and up,
following a mountain path that led sometimes beside a rushing
brook, sometimes along the edges of dizzy precipices, and always
among rocks with wonderful views of distant snow-capped peaks
above them and green, green valleys below.
At last, when it seemed to the weary children that they could not
go another step, they came out upon a high pasture, where Fritz
called a halt. The goats leaped joyfully forward, snatching
greedy mouthfuls of the rich green grass which grew among the
rocks. Bello flopped heavily down on a flat stone with his tongue
hanging out, and Fritz and the Twins rolled over on their backs
on a soft carpet of grass to rest.
Almost at once Seppi said, "I'm hungry."
"So 'm I," said Leneli.
"You'll be hungry all the time up here," said Fritz
encouragingly. "It's the air."
"Let's eat," urged Seppi.
Fritz took the package of luncheon from his pocket and opened it.
"It looks very small. It looks a great deal smaller than it did
at home," said Leneli. "I wonder why?"
"You are hungrier now than you were then," said Fritz.
"I could eat it all myself," said Seppi.
"But you won't," laughed Fritz; "I'll see to that." He divided
the bread and cheese into three equal portions and handed one to
each of the Twins. The third he put in his own pocket. "Now I
don't care what you do with yours," he said; "only, if you eat it
all now, you'll be hungry enough to browse with the goats before
it's time to go home. Better take just a bite and a drink of
water and eat more by and by."
Seppi looked hungrily at his portion and took a bite. Then he
just couldn't stop, and before he knew it his whole luncheon was
gone and it was only nine o'clock in the morning!
Leneli took two bites of hers, and then, wrapping it carefully in
the piece of cloth, placed it high up on an overhanging rock out
of the way of temptation. Then, while Fritz was teaching Seppi
all the tricks of a goat-boy's trade, she found a soft patch of
grass all spangled with blue gentians and fell asleep with her
head on her arm. She slept for some time, and Fritz and Seppi,
seeing how tired she was, did not disturb her.
She was roused at last by the tinkling of a goat-bell almost over
her head, and woke up just in time to see her luncheon, cloth and
all, disappearing into the mouth of Nanni, the brown goat! Poor
Leneli screamed with dismay, and Fritz and Seppi, thinking
perhaps she had hurt herself, came dashing to her side. Leneli
was boiling with rage. She could only point at Nanni, who stood
calmly out of reach above them with the last scrap of cloth
dangling from her lips.
"You wretched, black-hearted pig of a goat!" she screamed,
stamping her foot. "You've eaten every bit of my lunch, and I'd
only taken two little teeny bites! Oh, I wish I'd eaten it all
like that greedy Seppi!"
Fritz and Seppi were sorry, but when they saw the goat looking
down at Leneli so calmly while she stormed and scolded below,
they rolled over on the ground helpless with laughter.
"It's all very well for you to laugh, sniffed Leneli; you've
both got your lunches," and she went away quite sulkily and sat
down on a stone by herself. Bello came and sat beside her and
licked her hand.
Fritz had to dash away just then after a straying goat, but he
was soon back again with his luncheon in his hand. "Here," he
said, "you can have some of my bread and cheese."
"Oh, Fritzi," said Leneli gratefully, "you are as good and kind
as that goat is bad, but I'm going to take only a teeny mouthful,
just to keep me from starving!"
"All right," said Fritz, holding the slice of bread for her to
bite. "To-morrow we'll ask Mother to put up more bread and
cheese, and if you get hungry again, you can milk old Nanni
herself and get even with her that way."
"But I don't know how to milk," said Leneli with her mouth full.
"It's time you learned then," said Fritz briskly. "You've seen
Mother do it over and over again. Come, I'll teach you."
Nanni, the goat, had leaped down from her high perch, and was now
taking a drink from a little sparkling mountain rill which flowed
through the pasture.
"Come along," said Fritz. "There's no time like the present,"
and, taking his cup in his hand, he started toward her.
Leneli hung back a little. "Nanni is the naughtiest goat in the
whole flock," she said resentfully. "If it weren't for getting my
lunch back, I wouldn't try to milk her."
It may be that Nanni heard it and was offended, or it may be that
she knew that she had no milk to give them so early in the
morning. Anyway, she made up her mind she would not be bothered
at that time of day, so as fast as they came near her, she walked
on a few steps, and by the time they had reached that spot she
had moved farther still.
"We mustn't frighten her," said Fritz, "It's bad for the milk."
For some time they patiently followed her about, and at last just
as they were ready to lay hands upon her, she suddenly leaped
upon a rock and from that to a higher one, until she stood far
out of reach on a dizzy overhanging cliff.
"That Nanni!" cried Fritz wrathfully as he prepared to follow
her. "She'll break her pesky neck and mine too some day."
He climbed a tree for a short cut to the cliff and dropped from
an overhanging branch to the narrow shelf of rock in front of the
goat. Bello, meanwhile, ran back and forth below, barking like
everything, but quite unable either to follow Nanni up the steep
trail, or to climb the tree as Fritz had done.
"Come, Nanni," said Fritz, holding out his hand as he stepped
carefully toward her.
Nanni sniffed and backed. Leneli and Seppi watched from below,
breathless with anxiety. If she should back too much she might
fall over the cliff and be killed. If she should dash forward she
might knock Fritz over it instead. But Fritz was a wise goat-boy!
He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a handful of salt,
which he kept for just such times as this. He held it out toward
Nanni and carefully and slowly backed away from the edge of the
cliff, coaxing her to follow him. As she stepped forward, he
stepped back, and in this way led her by a roundabout path down
the farther side of the rocks to the place where the other goats
wore still feeding.
"Oh, Fritzi, I never could do that," said Leneli, hugging him
when he was on safe ground once more. "I should be so frightened."
"I could," said Seppi promptly; "I'm not afraid."
"Don't you try it, young man," said Fritz, "unless it's the only
thing you can do. The best goat-boy is the one who keeps his
goats from getting into such places. It's much cleverer to keep
out of trouble than to get out."
They gave up the milking lesson for the time being, but when the long
day was over and they were on their way down the mountain-pass in the
late afternoon, they came to a wide level space. Here they paused,
and, while Seppi stood with his arm about Nanni's neck and fed her
handfuls of green grass, Leneli really did milk enough for a
refreshing drink to sustain her on the long homeward journey.
Singing, playing tunes on the horn, and rousing the ever-ready
echoes with their yodels, they ran down the steep mountain path
in a much shorter time than it had taken to climb it in the
morning, and came in sight of the old farm-house just as the
Angelus rang again in the little white village spire. They paused
on the mountain path and bent their heads, but Nanni was not a
religious goat! She remembered the glimpse she had had the night
before of green things growing in the garden and suddenly bolted
down the steep path at a break-neck speed. All the rest of the
flock followed pell-mell after her, and the children were obliged
to cut short their prayers in order to save the carrot-tops from
being eaten up.
The last mile was covered in record-breaking time, and before the
cuckoo clock struck seven the children and goats and dog all came
galloping into the yard together.
Hundreds of additional titles available for
online reading when you join Gateway to the Classics