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Updated: May 27, 2025
"But they are so funny, Lottchen," said mother, and then she laughed at them and was not frightened any more. In the fields grew nice little buttony mushrooms. No one knew better than the Herr Baron where they were to be found and how to prepare them. Apparently he had lived on mushrooms in the wilds of South America.
"I don't care," said Lottchen, now in a high state of excitement. "My mother knows a man a very clever Irishman a poet and a painter as well, and he has often seen the fairies." "Yes," said Trudel, "it's true he draws them just as he sees them with rainbow-coloured wings." "Well I never, you don't expect me to believe such things, do you?" said Gustel.
With the girl in the pictures, the wild imagination of Lottchen, probably in part from her apparently absolute unattainableness and her undisputed heartlessness, had fallen in love, as far as the mere imagination can fall in love. But again, how was he to see her? He haunted the house night after night. Those blue eyes never met his. No step responsive to his came from that door.
She, poor creature, looked miserable enough; but the hardy, defiant expression was always on her face. Lottchen spoke out freely enough; the place would not be worth having if Thekla left it; it was she who had the head for everything, the patience for everything; who stood between all the under-servants and the Fräulein's tempers. As for the children, poor motherless children!
"She was near enough for even me to see her perfectly." "When? Where? How?" asked Lottchen. "Two hours ago. In the churchyard of St. Stephen's. By a lucky chance. Any more little questions, my child?" answered Hoellenrachen. "What could have taken her there, who is seen nowhere?" said Richter. "She was seated on a grave. After she left, I went to the place; but it was a new-made grave.
Mother was surprised when she entered the inn-parlour to find the Herr Baron engaged in a game of quartette with Trudel and Lottchen and Fritz. Indeed he was so sociable and kind and fond of children that she thought it was a pity that he had none of his own. On the pond near the house were two most remarkable-looking boats.
We closed the door without noise, so as not to waken the sleeping child. Lottchen brought me my coffee and bread; she was ready either to laugh or to weep on the slightest occasion. I could not tell if it was in innocence or mischief. She asked me the following question, "Do you think Thekla will leave to-day, sir?" In the afternoon I heard Thekla's step behind my extemporary screen.
And Lottchen has given notice; she says the place will not be worth having when Thekla leaves. I wish I could give notice too." "Try Thekla again." "Not I," said he, reddening. "It would seem now as if I only wanted her for a housekeeper. Besides, she avoids me at every turn, and will not even look at me. I am sure she bears me some ill-will about that ne'er-do-well."
There was no stone up. I asked the sexton about her. He said he supposed she was the daughter of the woman buried there last Thursday week. I knew it was Lilith. "'Her mother dead! said Lottchen, musingly. Then he thought with himself 'She will be going there again, then! But he took care that this ghost-thought should wander unembodied. 'But how did you know her, Heinrich?
Singing wasn't thought about; my uncle, a great friend and patron of music, always disparaged the local talent in this line. He still dwelt with exuberant delight upon the days gone by, when the four choristers of the four churches of the town agreed together to give Lottchen am Hofe.
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