"g152v10" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ebers Georg)

"'And I,' cried a former peddler, breaking into the carpenter's story,
'I assuredly have not forgotten the nut-tree, where I always set down my
pack when my shoulders were nearly broken, and under whose shade I used
to rest my weary limbs before entering the village.'

"'I, too! How often have I stopped under the spreading branches of that
tree on a hot summer day and found refreshment!' cried a former post-
messenger of Dorbstadt. A porter who had also lived there added his
praises.

"'But the nut-trees were cut down many years ago,' the latter added.

"'I saw it,' cried the spirit of little Hannele, and one heard from her
tone how she deplored it. 'They were felled when the Poor-house was
given up. 'But the great Son of God has now heard what he wished to
know.'

"'No, no,' the Saviour answered, 'I should still like to know what
became of the wood of these trees.'

"The voices of several angels were heard at the same moment, for many
of the poor weavers of Dorbstadt were to be found in the Heavenly
Kingdom. St. Peter, however, bade them to be quiet, and permitted only
the one who had last entered the Abode of the Blessed to speak.

"'I was the village doctor,' this one began, 'and I quitted the earth
because I, too, fell a victim to the pestilence of which many of the poor
people were dying, and against which I fought with all my powers, but
with small success. I can tell you all that you wish to know, my Master,
for, during forty-five years, I devoted my humble services to the sick
poor there. When Hannele died in our Poor-house--it happened before my
time--the misery was even greater than at present. The weavers were
ground down by the large manufacturers, until an energetic man built a
factory in our village, and paid them better wages. As the population
then increased, and consequently the number of patients, space was
wanting in which to house them, for the dilapidated Poor-house--whither
they were carried--was no longer large enough to accommodate them all.
Therefore the parish, aided by the owner of the factory, built a hospital
for the whole district, and the site of the old Poor-house was chosen for
it. The beautiful nut-trees which Hannele had planted had to be
destroyed. I was sorry to be obliged to give the order, but we needed
the ground where they stood. As we had to be economical in everything,
big and little, we had planks sawn out of the trees for our use.'

"At this point another spirit interrupted the physician. 'I have lain in
one of the beds made from the wood. At home I slept on a bundle of
straw, and very uncomfortable it was when I was shaken by the fever. In
the hospital all was different, and when I lay in my comfortable bed, I
felt as if I were already in Heaven.'