Heidi Lessons at Home and Abroad

Heidi Lessons at Home and Abroad Heidi Lessons at Home and Abroad Johanna Spyri Translated by Peter James Bowman Illustrations by Susan Hellard ALMA CLASSICS alma classics an imprint of alma BOOKs ltd 3 Castle Yard Richmond Surrey TW10 6TF United Kingdom www.almajunior.com Heidi: Lessons at Home and Abroad first published in German in 1880 This edition first published by Alma Books Ltd in 2017 Translation © Peter James Bowman, 2017 Inside and cover illustrations © Susan Hellard, 2017 Extra Material © Alma Books Ltd Printed in Great Britain by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY isBn: 978-1-84749-665-2 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher. Contents Heidi: Lessons at Home and Abroad 1 Chapter 1: Going up to the Alp Uncle 3 Chapter 2: At Grandfather’s 18 Chapter 3: On the Pastureland 27 Chapter 4: At Grandmother’s 43 Chapter 5: Two Visitors 59 Chapter 6: A Whole New World 72 Chapter 7: An Anxious Day for 82 Fräulein Rottenmeier Chapter 8: Troubled Times in Herr 99 Sesemann’s House Chapter 9: Herr Sesemann Hears Many 112 Strange Things Chapter 10: Grandmamma 120 Chapter 11: Heidi Grows in Mind, 132 but Not in Body Chapter 12: Haunted House 139 Chapter 13: A Summer Evening 153 Homecoming Chapter 14: Church Bells on Sunday 174 Extra Material for Young Readers 193 The Writer 195 The Book 196 The Characters 197 Other Classic Stories of Orphans 200 Test Yourself 204 Glossary 208 Heidi Lessons at Home and Abroad Chapter 1 Going up to the Alp Uncle rOm the picturesque old village of Maienfeld F there is a footpath that leads through green, wooded meadows to the foot of the grave, lofty peaks overlook- ing this side of the valley. Where the path begins its ascent, the rambler soon encounters the fragrance of short grass and strong mountain herbs wafting across from the pasture, for the way now leads steeply and directly to the alps. On a sunny morning in June, a tall, sturdy-looking young woman of this mountainous region was climbing up the narrow path, holding by the hand a small child whose cheeks were so flushed that their glow lit up the deep brown of her suntanned skin. And no wonder, since despite the blazing June sun the child was wrapped up as if she needed protection against a severe frost. She looked 3 heidi: lessOns at hOme and aBrOad barely five years old, but it was impossible to make out her natural form, as she was evidently wearing two if not three dresses, one on top of the other, and then a large red cotton scarf wound round and round, so that her little figure was quite shapeless above her heavy, hobnailed mountain shoes as she toiled hotly uphill. The two travellers must have had an hour’s climb from the valley by the time they reached the settlement halfway up the pastureland simply known as the “little village”. Here people in almost every house called out to them, from windows and doors and from the roadside, for the young woman was in the place of her birth. But rather than stopping and standing still, she responded to the shouted greetings and questions in passing until she came to the last of the small, scattered houses at the end of the village. Here a voice called from a doorway: “Wait a second, Dete. If you’re going higher I’ll come with you.” Now Dete stood still, and immediately the child freed herself from her hand and sat on the ground. “Are you tired, Heidi?” asked her companion. “No, I’m hot,” answered the child. “We’ll be there soon,” said the other encouragingly. “Just keep going a bit longer and take big strides, and we’ll be up in an hour.” At that moment a stout, kind-looking woman stepped out of the house and joined them. The two old acquaint- ances then walked on and launched into an animated conversation about various inhabitants of the village and nearby dwellings. Heidi, having got to her feet, followed behind. 4 chapter 1 “But where are you taking the child, Dete?” asked the other woman. “I’m guessing she’s your sister’s girl, the orphan.” “That’s right,” Dete replied. “I’m taking her up to the Alp Uncle. She’s to live with him.” “What, live with the Alp Uncle? You must be out of your mind, Dete. How could you do such a thing? In any case, the old man will send you and your plan packing at once!” “He can’t. He’s her grandfather and he has to help. I’ve kept the child till now, but you can take it from me, Barbel, I’m not giving up a post like the one I’ve been offered for her sake. It’s time her grandfather did his bit.” “That would be fair enough if he was like other people,” said the stout woman warmly, “but you know how he is. He’ll have no idea what to do with a child, especially such a small one! She won’t be able to stand it! By the way, where is it you’re going?” “Frankfurt, and a first-class household. The family were down at the baths last summer and I saw to their rooms, which were on my corridor. They wanted to take me back with them then, but I couldn’t get away. And now they’re here again and want to take me, and believe me I want to go.” “I don’t envy the child,” exclaimed Barbel, throwing up her hands in horror. “No one knows what makes the old man up there tick! He wants nothing to do with anyone, he doesn’t set foot inside a church year in, year out, and when he comes down every twelve months or so with his big stick everyone takes fright and steers clear of him. With those bushy grey eyebrows and that terrible beard he 5 heidi: lessOns at hOme and aBrOad looks like an old heathen or a Red Indian, so that you’re glad if you don’t bump into him.” “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s the child’s grandfather and must take care of her,” Dete said defiantly. “He won’t do her any harm, and if he does, he’ll have to answer for it, not me.” “All I want to know,” Barbel said, probing, “is what the old man has on his conscience to give him such a wild expression and make him live like a hermit up on the pastureland, hardly ever showing his face. People say all sorts of things about him, but you must have some real information from your sister. Am I right?” “Of course, but I’m not telling! If it came to his ears I’d be in a pretty pickle!” Barbel had long wished to know how matters stood with the Alp Uncle, why he looked so cross with the world and lived all alone so high up, and why people talked about him evasively, as if they were afraid of making an enemy of him but didn’t want him as a friend either. And Barbel also had no idea why the villagers called him Alp Uncle: he couldn’t be a real uncle to all the inhabitants of the place. But as everyone called the old man by this name, using the local dialect word for “uncle”, so she always did too. Barbel was a recent arrival, having moved to the village as a bride. Prior to that she had lived down in Prättigau, and she was not yet familiar with all the past and present personalities and goings-on in the village and its environs. Her friend Dete, on the other hand, had been born in the village and had lived there with her mother until the lat- ter’s death a year before. Then she had moved to Ragaz, 6 chapter 1 where she earned a good living as a chambermaid in the big hotel there. She had come all the way from Ragaz that very morning, getting a lift to Maienfeld for herself and the child on a hay wagon that a friend of hers was driving home. Barbel did not want to waste this opportunity of adding to her store of knowledge. She took Dete familiarly by the arm and said: “You’re the person to say what’s true and what’s just idle talk. You must know the whole story. Tell me a bit about the old man. Has he always hated and frightened his fellow men so?” “Whether he’s always been like that I couldn’t exactly say. I’m twenty-six years old, and he must be seventy, so you can’t expect me to have known him when he was young. But if I could be certain my words wouldn’t be doing the rounds of Prättigau afterwards, there’s a lot I could tell you about him. My mother came from Domleschg just as he did.” “Pah, Dete, what do you mean?” Barbel retorted, a little offended.

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