Everything in the Right Place

								
It is more than a hundred years ago! At the border of the wood,
near a large lake, stood the old mansion: deep ditches surrounded it
on every side, in which reeds and bulrushes grew. Close by the
drawbridge, near the gate, there was an old willow tree, which bent
over the reeds.

From the narrow pass came the sound of bugles and the trampling of
horses' feet; therefore a little girl who was watching the geese
hastened to drive them away from the bridge, before the whole
hunting party came galloping up; they came, however, so quickly,
that the girl, in order to avoid being run over, placed herself on one
of the high corner-stones of the bridge. She was still half a child
and very delicately built; she had bright blue eyes, and a gentle,
sweet expression. But such things the baron did not notice; while he
was riding past the little goose-girl, he reversed his hunting crop,
and in rough play gave her such a push with it that she fell
backward into the ditch.

"Everything in the right place!" he cried. "Into the ditch with
you."

Then he burst out laughing, for that he called fun; the others
joined in--the whole party shouted and cried, while the hounds barked.

While the poor girl was falling she happily caught one of the
branches of the willow tree, by the help of which she held herself
over the water, and as soon as the baron with his company and the dogs
had disappeared through the gate, the girl endeavoured to scramble up,
but the branch broke off, and she would have fallen backward among the
rushes, had not a strong hand from above seized her at this moment. It
was the hand of a pedlar; he had witnessed what had happened from a
short distance, and now hastened to assist her.

"Everything in the right place," he said, imitating the noble
baron, and pulling the little maid up to the dry ground. He wished
to put the branch back in the place it had been broken off, but it
is not possible to put everything in the right place; therefore he
stuck the branch into the soft ground.

"Grow and thrive if you can, and produce a good flute for them
yonder at the mansion," he said; it would have given him great
pleasure to see the noble baron and his companions well thrashed. Then
he entered the castle--but not the banqueting hall; he was too
humble for that. No; he went to the servants' hall. The men-servants
and maids looked over his stock of articles and bargained with him;
loud crying and screaming were heard from the master's table above:
they called it singing--indeed, they did their best. Laughter and
the howls of dogs were heard through the open windows: there they were
feasting and revelling; wine and strong old ale were foaming in the
glasses and jugs; the favourite dogs ate with their masters; now and
then the squires kissed one of these animals, after having wiped its
mouth first with the tablecloth. They ordered the pedlar to come up,
but only to make fun of him. The wine had got into their heads, and
reason had left them. They poured beer into a stocking that he could
drink with them, but quick. That's what they called fun, and it made
them laugh. Then meadows, peasants, and farmyards were staked on one
card and lost.

"Everything in the right place!" the pedlar said when he had at
last safely got out of Sodom and Gomorrah, as he called it. "The
open high road is my right place; up there I did not feel at ease."

The little maid, who was still watching the geese, nodded kindly
to him as he passed through the gate.

Days and weeks passed, and it was seen that the broken
willow-branch which the peddlar had stuck into the ground near the
ditch remained fresh and green--nay, it even put forth fresh twigs;
the little goose-girl saw that the branch had taken root, and was very
pleased; the tree, so she said, was now her tree. While the tree was
advancing, everything else at the castle was going backward, through
feasting and gambling, for these are two rollers upon which nobody
stands safely. Less than six years afterwards the baron passed out
of his castle-gate a poor beggar, while the baronial seat had been
bought by a rich tradesman. He was the very pedlar they had made fun
of and poured beer into a stocking for him to drink; but honesty and
industry bring one forward, and now the pedlar was the possessor of
the baronial estate. From that time forward no card-playing was
permitted there.

"That's a bad pastime," he said; "when the devil saw the Bible for
the first time he wanted to produce a caricature in opposition to
it, and invented card-playing."

The new proprietor of the estate took a wife, and whom did he
take?--The little goose-girl, who had always remained good and kind,
and who looked as beautiful in her new clothes as if she had been a
lady of high birth. And how did all this come about? That would be too
long a tale to tell in our busy time, but it really happened, and
the most important events have yet to be told.

It was pleasant and cheerful to live in the old place now: the
mother superintended the household, and the father looked after things
out-of-doors, and they were indeed very prosperous.

Where honesty leads the way, prosperity is sure to follow. The old
mansion was repaired and painted, the ditches were cleaned and
fruit-trees planted; all was homely and pleasant, and the floors
were as white and shining as a pasteboard. In the long winter evenings
the mistress and her maids sat at the spinning-wheel in the large
hall; every Sunday the counsellor--this title the pedlar had obtained,
although only in his old days--read aloud a portion from the Bible.
The children (for they had children) all received the best
education, but they were not all equally clever, as is the case in all
families.

In the meantime the willow tree near the drawbridge had grown up
into a splendid tree, and stood there, free, and was never clipped.
"It is our genealogical tree," said the old people to their
children, "and therefore it must be honoured."

A hundred years had elapsed. It was in our own days; the lake

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