to notice things around him, he used to creep up to the stove and try to touch the pictures painted on its sides. One was the scene of a battle where the Swiss were driving their enemies down a mountain. On the other side, a hunter was painted. He was bringing home a chamois that hung from his shoulders.
When the boy grew older, he used to climb the steps that led up to the top of the stove. It was so nice and warm there behind the curtains that hung from the ceiling down to the front edge. It made a cosy little room where Carl could lie and warm himself after a walk in the winter air. Sometimes the boy slept there all night long; but that was only in the coldest weather.
In the daytime his mother often put her fruit there to dry, or perhaps she hung wet clothes there. It had many uses.
There were no real stairs in the house. There was an upper room, however, and when a person wished to enter it he must first climb on top of the stove and then pass through a hole in the ceiling. It was a strange way of building the house; don't you think so?
Perhaps you wonder that Carl did not get burned when he lay on top of the stove. That was because there was never any fire in it! This probably seems the strangest thing about it, but you must understand that the fire was built in a sort of furnace out in the hall. The heat passed from this furnace into the porcelain stove, so it was not unpleasantly warm when one touched it.
After talking a while with his father, Carl climbed up to the top of the stove, and creeping through the hole in the ceiling, he entered his bedroom. He quickly said his prayers and then jumped into bed. He must get to sleep as early as possible, for he would be called before daybreak. At least, his mother promised to call him, but she did not need to do so, – he was the first one in the house to wake.
"Father! mother!" he shouted, before the clock cried "cuckoo," three times.
It was none too early; lights moving from room to room could already be seen in the neighbours' houses. The whole village was astir.
There was a walk of several miles for all who were going to the celebration. This walk would bring them to the shores of the lake. A steamer would be waiting at the pier to take them across to the city of Lucerne on the other side. A party of merry people moved along the road just as the sunrise coloured the mountain-tops. Every one was dressed in his Sunday best.
There were many little girls, all in white, their yellow hair hanging in long braids. Some of them had immense wreaths of flowers or laurel leaves to carry in the procession, but the flags were carried by the boys.
See! there is the beautiful lake just ahead. How blue its waters are! The shadows of lofty mountains can be seen if you look down upon the clear surface. Brave men have lived on its shores. Noble deeds have been done near by. Every Swiss loves this lake, as he thinks of the history of his country.
The little steamer was quickly loaded with its gay passengers, and made its way over the waters. Other steamers soon came in sight, but all were moving in the same direction, – toward the city of Lucerne.
Such a festival is not held every year. Each village generally celebrates the close of school by a picnic or steamer-ride. There is usually something pleasant for the children, but not always a time like this.
When the day was over, it was hard for Carl to tell what he had enjoyed most. In the morning, after the children had marched around the city to lively music, they went out to a large open space where the feast was served. Every one had all the coffee and cakes he wished. There were many odd little cakes that only Swiss women know how to make. The children enjoyed them hugely.
After the feast games were played, and there were rides on the flying horses. You will laugh when you hear the name of one of the games. It is "Blind Cow." Carl is very fond of it. It is much like our "Blind Man's Buff." Carl and his friend Franz chose one corner of a large field. Marie, Franz's sister, and Freda, another little friend, were with them. They were soon joined by other children, and they had a lively game.
Carl was the cow oftener than any one else. He didn't care. It was great fun stumbling around with blinded eyes, and trying to catch the others. When they thought they were quite safe and out of reach, one of them was sure to laugh and show where he was. Then Carl would make a sudden spring, and catch the laugher.
Before the afternoon was over, the mayor spoke to the children about the kind teacher who had helped not only the Swiss, but children all over the world. That teacher's name was Pestalozzi. Carl knew the story well, but he loved to hear it over and over again.
More than a hundred years ago there was a good man who lived in Switzerland very near Carl's house. It was a time of war. Soldiers from other countries had chosen Switzerland for their battle-field. They took possession of the homes of the people. They destroyed their crops. They ate their supplies of food. The Swiss suffered greatly. After these enemies had gone away, they found themselves poor, and many of them were starving.
Pestalozzi was not a rich man, but his heart was filled with pity. He went among the poor and gave them all he had. He was especially fond of the children. He cared for them as well as he could; he got them bread to eat and clothes to wear; best of all, he taught them and kept their minds busy. But at last his money was all spent. What could he do now?
He gathered the ragged, hungry boys around him. They had grown to love him, and were willing to do anything he directed. He showed them how to sew and spin and do many other kinds of work. They were soon able to earn enough money to support themselves and their school.
Pestalozzi did not teach in the way others did. He said:
"It is not enough for these children to study their lessons from books and then be whipped if they do not get them. They must see how real things are; they must study from objects. The living birds and flowers should help them. They must learn to shape things for themselves, and see as much as possible with their own eyes. Then they will love to study; they will enjoy their schools, and be happiest when there."
He set a new fashion for the world. His pupils learned so fast and well that other teachers came to watch and learn his ways. His fame spread to other countries, to England and America. They also copied his manner of teaching. Not only Swiss children, but those of different lands, began to enjoy their schools better. It all came about through the kind and loving work of Pestalozzi.
Carl has never known of a boy being whipped in his school. Such a punishment is seldom given in Switzerland. The teacher tries love and kindness first. If these fail, the boy is turned out of school. It is a terrible disgrace; it will follow the boy all his life, and he dreads it above everything.
After the mayor had spoken of Pestalozzi to the children, he bade them be proud of their schools and their school-buildings, which were finer than even the council-houses. He told them to be glad that all children of Switzerland, no matter how poor they were, could go to these schools and learn of the great world around them.
As he spoke, he could see in the faces of thousands of little ones that they were proud indeed.
Carl whispered to Franz, who stood beside him:
"There is no country like ours, is there, Franz? We could not be happy anywhere else, I'm sure."
His friend replied, "No, indeed, Carl. It is the home of free men, and we must grow up to keep it so. I don't care if we do have to study for six hours every school-day. We learn all the faster and, besides, we have ever so many holidays."
The best part of the holiday came in the evening, for that was the time for fireworks. There was a grand display on the shore of the lake. There were rockets, and Roman candles, and fire-pictures, and many other beautiful pieces which lighted the sky and were reflected in the waters of the lake.
