The Poor Man of Toggenburg - Autobiography of Ulrich Bräker

what you did wrong. But your punishment has been harder for me than for you, dear beloved Uechelin!" She said this in so sweet a tone that even now it rings in my ears, like a little silver bell far away. Ah, thought I for an instant, now I could punish you in your turn, you wayward girl! But I soon thought better of it, clasped my darling in my arms, and gave her at least a thousand smacking kisses all over her pretty little face from one ear to the other, and Ännchen repaid me for every one, save that I would swear that hers were even more ardent than mine. And so we went on embracing and teasing and chattering till dawn.

Then I went home rejoicing and thinking myself the best and happiest man on God's earth. But even with all this I felt quite clearly that something was still lacking - but as yet I knew not what it was. For the most part, I think, it was as follows: O, could I only possess my Ännchen, my sweet girl, entirely, could I only call her wholly, wholly mine, and be her sweetheart, her beloved. Everywhere I went my thoughts were with her. I was able to visit her for one evening every week, it seemed like a single minute and the time between might have been six years. O, what blessed hours were those! [...] Those nights were not only the happiest but the most innocent of my life! And yet - I may not hide it - Ännchen's reputation was not of the best. Undoubtedly she had to thank for this her free tongue and her talkativeness. Yet ever and always I found her the best, most honest and most chaste of maidens. It is true that I had not made use of the manifold arts of the seducer, indeed I knew nothing of them, yet I am wholly convinced that she would have successfully resisted them.

So the unforgettable summer of 1755 passed by as if it were a single week, and every day I loved my Ännchen more. From all other girls I turned away in disgust, although I had occasion from time to time to make the acquaintance of the prettiest daughters of the land. And in the meantime I worked cheerfully at my saltpetre-boiling, sometimes alone and sometimes with the other Uli, who was still at great pains to match me up with the strangest creatures. Pooh! They were nothing to me now, and the more so as I could not yet so much as think of marrying.

In the autumn of that year I was helping my father to cut down a fine beech in the forest. One Laurenz Aller from Schwellbrunn, a maker of rakes and pitchforks, lent us a hand and bought the best of its timber from us. In the conversation the talk turned upon myself. "Well, well, Hans", said Laurenz, "you have a whole troop of boys here, what will you do with them all? You have no land of your own and not one of them knows a trade. Pity you don't send the biggest ones out to fend for themselves. For sure they could make their fortunes. You know Hans Jöggeli's, they found employment straight away in WelschBern

; gone scarce a year, and now they come home to show themselves off all turned out new like gentlemen, with gold braid on their hats, and not for any money would they stay here at home". "Ah", said my father "but my lads are much too stupid and ignorant for that; Hans Jöggeli's are quick-witted and well taught, they can read and write, sing and play the fiddle too. Mine are nothing but poor fools compared to them, they just stand where they're put with their mouths open". "God forbid!" rejoined Laurenz, "don't say such a thing, Hans! One could make something of them, to be sure; why, take the big one there, he is well grown and he can read and write, and for sure he is no fool - you can tell by the look of him. By Jove, if he were hustled about a little, he would make a fine fellow. You would open your eyes wide! Hans, I'll wager you that in a year and a day he'll come home booted and spurred, and with money to spend like water, and bring you honour and happiness."