Our Little Swiss Cousin

"O, yes, sir, I have tried hard," answered the boy, who was half afraid, although, somehow, this same Santa Claus spoke very much like a friend of the family who lived near by.

"Very well, then." With this, Santa covered the floor with nuts and fruit which he shook out of his pack. A party of men who had followed him and his servant into the house, and were dressed up in all sorts of funny ways, laughed and joked with Carl's father and mother.

After a few moments of fun, Santa Claus went away, first wishing the boy and his parents good night and a merry day on the morrow. They had many more calls to make before their work would be done, and they must hurry on their way, they said.

When the door was closed, Carl said, "Father, I don't believe that is the real Santa Claus; it is neighbour Hans, who has dressed up like him. I knew his voice, too."

Carl danced around the room laughing, while his father and mother laughed, too.

"When I was a little tot," Carl went on, "I used to be scared, I tell you. I was afraid of doing naughty things all the year for fear mother would tell Santa Claus, and his servant would then sweep me away with his broom. Oh, I know better now." And Carl ran first to his father, and then to his mother, and gave each of them a hearty kiss.

The next morning, when he came downstairs, there was the dearest little fir-tree in the corner of the room, and under it lay some mittens and stockings, besides the rifle for which Carl had hoped and longed.

"Santa Claus helped me get them," said Rudolf, and they all sat down to breakfast laughing at the merry joke.

CHAPTER IX

THE WONDERFUL ABBEY

It was the beautiful spring-time, and the country had begun to look green and fresh again after the long months of snow and frost.

"Carl, my dear, how would you like to go on a pilgrimage to the Blessed Abbey?" asked his father one night as they finished milking the cows. "Easter Sunday is almost here, and the people of the village are talking of going to Einsiedeln together."

"O, father, that would make me happier than anything else in the world. What a fine time we can have! And only to think that I can see the place with my own eyes. Do you really mean it?"

"Yes, my boy, but do you think you can walk so far without getting tired out?"

Carl laughed. "Look at me, father; see how I have grown since last summer," and the boy stretched to make himself seem as tall as possible.

"Very well, then. Your mother knows about it, and is getting things ready for the journey now."

The next three days Carl could think of nothing else. He was full of excitement. The night before they were to start, he said to his father:

"Please tell me the story of the Wonderful Abbey again. I wish to have the picture still brighter in my mind as we journey along our way to-morrow."

Rudolf leaned back in his chair. His face was lighted by a happy smile as he said:

"Carl, my dear child, I love to think of the good souls who have made this world so beautiful by living in it. Yes, they have made it more beautiful than the grandest mountains or the loveliest lakes can make it.

"One of those good men was the holy Meinrad, who lived over a thousand years ago. He came from Germany to teach the priests at a small convent on the Lake of Zurich. After a while he said, 'I will live the life of a hermit in a little cell in the forest. I can best worship God if I live alone.'

"So he went up on the mountainside and made a hut, where he prayed and fasted day after day. It is said that the wild beasts felt his goodness, and would do him no harm. Whenever there was need, he went out to do good deeds among men. People heard of him through all the country round. They came to ask his advice when they were in trouble, or to seek help in other ways.

"But one day two robbers came to Meinrad's cell. They came with a bad purpose; they thought he must have a store of gold hidden away, and they wished to get it. The holy man gave them food and drink, but what do you think these wicked men did in return for such kindness? They cruelly murdered him! Then, finding no money, they hurried away.

"Meinrad had two birds who kept him company in the lonely forest. They were ravens, and had grown very tame, loving their master dearly.

"When the murderers fled, these birds followed them down the mountainside, across the lake, and into the town. The men stopped at an inn for food and rest. The birds flapped their wings against the windows, and kept up shrill cries. Every one in the inn wondered what it could mean. When this had kept up for several hours, the men thought, 'This is a warning to us from Heaven. We will confess what we have done.'

"They told the fearful story, and were put to death by the angry people who heard it. Ever since that time the place has been called the Ravens' Inn, and two ravens were carved out of stone and placed upon the wall. When we go to Zurich, Carl, you shall see those stone ravens, for they are still there."

"Now, please tell me about the holy abbey, father," said Carl, "and how it was blessed by the angels."

"After a while," his father went on, "the priests, who had heard the story of Meinrad's death, decided to build a grand church. It was to be on the very spot where Meinrad's cell had stood and he had been murdered. It was a beautiful building. When it was entirely finished, bishops and knights came to consecrate it to the Lord. People gathered from far and near to listen to the service.

"Now, it was the custom of the good Bishop Conrad to pray at midnight. On the night before the great day of consecration, he arose for his usual prayer, and, as he did so, was surprised to hear beautiful music in the air around him. He listened closely. Behold! it was the chorus of angels; they were consecrating the chapel. He bowed his head in wonder and awe.

"The next morning, when the people had come together for the sacred service, the bishop waited in silence till nearly noon, and then he told the crowd of listeners what had happened during the night. There was nothing for him to do now; the angels had already made this a holy place.

"But the people would not, could not, believe it. They still pressed the bishop to go on with the service. At last, he felt that he could not satisfy them in any other way, so had already begun, when a clear voice was heard to say, 'Brother, do not go on; for see, it is already consecrated.'

"Then the people were able to understand that the bishop had spoken truly, and the place was indeed a holy one now. Ever since that time good Catholics of France and Germany, as well as from our own country, make pilgrimages to the abbey of Einsiedeln. It is now a very grand building. Thousands and thousands of dollars have been spent to make it beautiful.

"And Carl, dear, you shall see there the very image of Jesus and Mary which the good priest Meinrad brought to the place when he first sought his home there. Better still, my boy, you shall drink from the fountain from which Jesus himself once drank, as I have been told."

Carl listened closely to his father's words. Others might tell him afterward that this was only a legend, but he was an earnest little Catholic, and believed that every word of it was true.

The moment of starting came at last. Rudolf, with his wife and Carl, was joined by several others of the village people. Franz was among them, together with his parents. There were many, many miles to walk, and several days must be spent upon the way. The nights were passed at taverns along the roadside. As our friends journeyed onward, they were joined by other parties, all going in the same direction, – to the abbey blessed by the angels.

In one party there was a blind man, who hoped to see again after he had drunk from the wonderful fountain. In another, there was a person who was lame, and who moved painfully along on crutches. He believed he would be able to leave these crutches behind him if he could once reach the abbey.

As Carl drew nearer and nearer, he could see that thousands and thousands of people were all going the same way. And now as they began to climb the mountainside, there were crosses at every turn in the road. He never passed them by without stopping to kneel and pray.

He was a stout little fellow, as we know, but he was growing very tired now. His feet were quite sore, and there were deep cuts in the soles. This showed that he had walked very many miles over the hard roads. But there were many others like him who had never travelled so far from home before; and some of them were old and feeble, too. He would not let his mother think he was tired. Oh, no, not for the world.

Ah! the spires were at last in sight, and every one hurried forward.

It was very, very beautiful, Carl thought, when he had passed through the great doorway, and looked upon the wonderful sight within. He had never before seen anything half so grand. The walls and ceilings were richly gilded, and there were many statues in the nooks and corners.

But best of all was the precious image of the Divine Child and His mother. It was only a clumsy-looking little wooden figure, and was black with age, but it was adorned with precious stones that sparkled brilliantly.

Before Carl entered the sacred building, he first stopped at the fountain, and drank from each one of the fourteen spouts. This alone would make his life better, he thought. But after he had received a blessing from the priest within the church, and had touched the marble on which the image of Jesus rested, he could go away perfectly happy.

There were many small inns in the village, and you may be sure that they were well filled at this time. Carl's family were together with their friends at one of them, and they had a merry time. When they were well rested, however, Carl's father said to the boy:

"We will take a trip to Zurich before going home. It is only a few miles away, and I promised to show you the stone ravens, you know. An old friend of mine lives right on the shore of the lake, and he will be glad to have us lodge with him."

What a lively place Zurich seemed to the little country boy. Every one was so busy, and there was so much going on all the time.

"Why is it such a busy place, father?" asked Carl.

"It is largely because of the business in silk, Carl. We do not raise silk in Switzerland; it is too cold. But the cocoons are brought here from Italy, and thousands of people are kept busy in spinning, weaving and dyeing the precious stuff.

"The wife of my good friend is at her loom every moment she can spare from the work of her house. But she tells me the pay is very poor, yet the rich man who gives her the work sells the silk for great prices. Ah! it is hard to be poor."

Yes, it was true. Nearly every little home around the lake had its loom, and one could hear the whirr and the click in the houses as he passed along.

Carl took trips on the pretty steamboats on the lake. They had been built in the city and Rudolf took the boy to the shipyard where others were being made.