Our Little Swiss Cousin

After the feast games were played, and there were rides on the flying horses. You will laugh when you hear the name of one of the games. It is "Blind Cow." Carl is very fond of it. It is much like our "Blind Man's Buff." Carl and his friend Franz chose one corner of a large field. Marie, Franz's sister, and Freda, another little friend, were with them. They were soon joined by other children, and they had a lively game.

Carl was the cow oftener than any one else. He didn't care. It was great fun stumbling around with blinded eyes, and trying to catch the others. When they thought they were quite safe and out of reach, one of them was sure to laugh and show where he was. Then Carl would make a sudden spring, and catch the laugher.

Before the afternoon was over, the mayor spoke to the children about the kind teacher who had helped not only the Swiss, but children all over the world. That teacher's name was Pestalozzi. Carl knew the story well, but he loved to hear it over and over again.

More than a hundred years ago there was a good man who lived in Switzerland very near Carl's house. It was a time of war. Soldiers from other countries had chosen Switzerland for their battle-field. They took possession of the homes of the people. They destroyed their crops. They ate their supplies of food. The Swiss suffered greatly. After these enemies had gone away, they found themselves poor, and many of them were starving.

Pestalozzi was not a rich man, but his heart was filled with pity. He went among the poor and gave them all he had. He was especially fond of the children. He cared for them as well as he could; he got them bread to eat and clothes to wear; best of all, he taught them and kept their minds busy. But at last his money was all spent. What could he do now?

He gathered the ragged, hungry boys around him. They had grown to love him, and were willing to do anything he directed. He showed them how to sew and spin and do many other kinds of work. They were soon able to earn enough money to support themselves and their school.

Pestalozzi did not teach in the way others did. He said:

"It is not enough for these children to study their lessons from books and then be whipped if they do not get them. They must see how real things are; they must study from objects. The living birds and flowers should help them. They must learn to shape things for themselves, and see as much as possible with their own eyes. Then they will love to study; they will enjoy their schools, and be happiest when there."

He set a new fashion for the world. His pupils learned so fast and well that other teachers came to watch and learn his ways. His fame spread to other countries, to England and America. They also copied his manner of teaching. Not only Swiss children, but those of different lands, began to enjoy their schools better. It all came about through the kind and loving work of Pestalozzi.

Carl has never known of a boy being whipped in his school. Such a punishment is seldom given in Switzerland. The teacher tries love and kindness first. If these fail, the boy is turned out of school. It is a terrible disgrace; it will follow the boy all his life, and he dreads it above everything.

After the mayor had spoken of Pestalozzi to the children, he bade them be proud of their schools and their school-buildings, which were finer than even the council-houses. He told them to be glad that all children of Switzerland, no matter how poor they were, could go to these schools and learn of the great world around them.

As he spoke, he could see in the faces of thousands of little ones that they were proud indeed.

Carl whispered to Franz, who stood beside him:

"There is no country like ours, is there, Franz? We could not be happy anywhere else, I'm sure."

His friend replied, "No, indeed, Carl. It is the home of free men, and we must grow up to keep it so. I don't care if we do have to study for six hours every school-day. We learn all the faster and, besides, we have ever so many holidays."

The best part of the holiday came in the evening, for that was the time for fireworks. There was a grand display on the shore of the lake. There were rockets, and Roman candles, and fire-pictures, and many other beautiful pieces which lighted the sky and were reflected in the waters of the lake. Many of the people watched the display from the decks of the little steamers, which were also bright with coloured lights.

The time came all too soon for the homeward journey.

"What a lovely time I've had," sighed Carl, as he reached his own door. "I only wish it were going to be to-morrow instead of to-day."

"It was a fine show indeed," said his father. "Everybody looked well and happy. But I must say that I liked the dress of the people of our own village better than that of any other."

CHAPTER II

THE MOUNTAIN PASTURE

"Here, Carl, take this kettle, and you, Franz, may carry the other," said Carl's mother.

It was two days after the school holiday, and again the village was astir before sunrise. There was a great jingling of cow-bells as the men and boys moved about from farm to farm and gathered the cattle together.

Rudolf was to take all the cows in the village to the mountain pastures for the summer. Carl and his friend Franz would help him in taking care of them. Carl's mother would make the cheese. In the autumn, they would bring the cows back and divide the cheese according to the number of cows each family owned.

It was a joyful time and well deserving a holiday. Almost every one in the village would keep the herder and his family company on his way up the mountainside. Their food and cooking dishes must be carried; the cows must be kept in the right path, while their friends, who were leaving them for months, must be cheered and kept in good heart.

At last everything was made ready. Brown Katze, the handsomest cow in the village, led the line. She tossed her head as though she could already sniff the fresh air of the uplands. How the bells jingled! What gay songs rang out! Carl was a fine singer himself, and if you listened you could hear his voice above all the rest.

The procession at first followed a narrow path through the woods. There were many beech and chestnut trees where Carl would go nutting in the fall. After a while these were left behind, and evergreens were the only trees to be seen.

It was already growing cooler and the cows pushed onward. They seemed to know of the pleasure before them, – the sweet grass and herbs which they would soon be able to eat to their hearts' content.

Ah! the woods came to an end at last, and the beautiful pastures were reached. There is nothing in the world like them. It is no wonder that the cheeses made here are noted all over the world.

Here were thousands of the lovely Alpine roses, royal red-purple in colour. Here too, harebells, violets, and pansies were growing wild. It was difficult to walk without stepping on some delicate, beautiful flower.

The party followed a narrow path through the meadow. They soon came to the little cottage where Carl would pass the summer. The building was broad and low, and had a wide, overhanging roof on which great rocks were lying, here and there. They were needed to keep it from blowing off during the hard storms of the winter.

Carl's father opened the door and looked carefully around to see if everything had remained safe since the summer before. Yes, it was all right; no one would know from the appearance that people had not been inside the room for eight months at least.

There was the stove over which the milk would be heated before it could be made into cheese. The rough table stood in the corner, while at the farther end was a supply of hay to be used in case the cattle had need of it.

It was a large room, but there were many low windows, so it would be bright and cheerful when the shutters had been taken down. Just back of this room was the stable, where the cows could find shelter at night.

Shouldn't you think Carl would be lonely here? No other houses could be seen, no matter in what direction he turned. He might not look upon any human faces except those of Franz and his father and mother for days at a time. In whatever way he might turn, his eyes would meet mountains, – mountains everywhere. But he loved to be here; he loved these mountains with all his heart. They gave him a feeling of freedom and of strength, and he would often say to himself:

"Ah! the good God has given us a wonderful world to live in, and we are a part of it all."

Day after day of the short summer Carl and Franz would drive the cows higher and higher in search of new feeding-grounds. At last they would come to the bare, brown rocks near the summit, and they would know that the season's work was nearly over.

The villagers who had come with the family had a picnic dinner at the chalet, as the Swiss call a mountain cottage like Carl's. Then a few songs were sung with a hearty good-will. The time passed so quickly that the people came near forgetting how late it was growing when one of the party, standing in the doorway, heard the clock strike four.

"Good friends, we must start homeward at once," he cried. "Think of the long climb down and the dark path through the woods."

What a bustle and commotion there was now! What hearty hand-shakings were given! Then away they went, calling back from time to time, or blowing another farewell upon their horns when they were hidden from sight by the trees below.

Carl and Franz turned to help Rudolf in the care of the cows, for the milking must be done before nightfall. Carl's mother made up fresh beds from the hay and put away the provisions. She would soon have plenty to do besides, for the cheese-making would be her work.

"Carl," she said to her boy that night, "you will be old enough to be a herder yourself before long. In four or five years you and Franz can bring the cows here to pasture by yourselves, and do all the work, too. You must learn how to make cheese this summer."

So it was that the two boys took their first lessons, and before many days they had become good helpers inside the house as well as outdoors.

They would lift the great kettles of milk and place them over the fire to heat. At just the right moment, the rennet must be put in to curdle the milk and separate the curds from the whey. Now for the beating with a clean pine stick. Carl's strong arms could aid his mother well in this work, upon which the goodness of the cheese depended.

"Well done," the herder's wife would say. "It is easy enough to make cheese with two such good lads to help me."

She was very fond of Franz, and loved him like a son. The faces of both boys grew bright when they were praised like this, and they were all the more eager to work. There was plenty to do yet, for the boiling and pressing must come next.

At last a big mould was ready to set away; but even now it must be watched and turned, day after day.

Carl's mother proudly watched her store grow larger as the weeks passed by. Those cheeses would bring large sums of money, – at least, it seemed so to her. But, of course, the money would be divided among the different families, according to the number of cows each sent to the pasture.

One morning as Carl was watching the herd, he looked down the mountainside and saw a party of strangers coming up the winding path. Then he heard a voice call:

"Hullo, hullo, little boy! Is your home near by? And can we get a little something to eat? We are very hungry."