Читать книгу Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled during Her Visit among the "Pennsylvania Germans" - Edith May Bertels Thomas - Страница 41

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A very original character was Sibylla Linsabigler, who had been a member of the Landis household several years. She was Aunt Sarah's only maid servant, but she disliked being referred to as a servant, and when she overheard "Fritz" Schmidt, as he passed the Landis farm on his way to the creek for a days fishing, call to Mary: "Miss Midleton, will you please send the butter over with the servant today, as I shall not return home in time for dinner" Sibylla said, "I ain't no servant. I'm hired girl What does that make out if I do work here? Pop got mad with me 'cause I wouldn't work at home no more for him and Mom without they paid me. They got three more girls to home yet that can do the work. My Pop owns a big farm and sent our 'Chon' to the college, and it's mean 'fer' him not to give us girls money for dress, so I work out, 'Taint right the way us people what has to work are treated these days," said Sibylla to herself, as she applied the broom vigorously to the gay-flowered carpet in the Landis parlor. "Because us folks got to work ain't no reason why them tony people over to the Perfessor's should call me a 'servant.' I guess I know I milk the cows, wash dishes, scrub floors, and do the washin' and ir'nin' every week, but I'm no 'servant,' I'm just as good any day as that good-fer-nothin' Perfesser's son," continued Sibylla, growing red in the face with indignation. "Didn't I hear that worthless scamp, Fritz Schmidt, a-referrin' to me and a-sayin' to Miss Midleton fer the 'servant' to bring over the butter? Betch yer life this here 'servant' ain't a-goin' to allow eddicated people to make a fool of her. First chance I get I'll give that Perfesser a piece of my mind."

Sibylla's opportunity came rather unexpectedly. The gentle, mild-mannered Professor was on good terms with his sturdy, energetic neighbor, John Landis, and frequently visited him for a neighborly chat. On this particular day he called as usual and found Sibvlla in the mood described.

"Good afternoon, Sibylla," said the Professor, good-naturedly. "How are you today?"

"I'd be a whole lot better if some people weren't so smart," replied Sibylla, venting her feelings on the broom. "Should think a Perfesser would feel himself too big to talk to a 'servant'."

"On the contrary, my dear girl, I feel honored. I presume you are not feeling as well as usual. What makes you think it is condescension for me to address you?" asked the genial old man, kindly.

"Well, since you ask me, I don't mind a-tellin' you. Yesterday your son insulted me, I won't take no insult from nobody, I am just as good as what you are, even if I hain't got much book larnin'."

With this deliverance, Sibylla felt she had done full justice to the occasion and would have closed the interview abruptly had not the Professor, with a restraining hand, detained her.

"We must get to the bottom of this grievance, Sibylla. I am sure there is some mistake somewhere. What did my son say?"

"Well, if you want to know," replied the irate domestic, 'I'll tell you. He called me a 'servant.' I know I'm only a working girl, but your son nor nobody else ain't got no right to abuse me by callin' me a 'servant'."

"Ah! I see. You object to the term 'servant' being applied to you," said the Professor, comprehendingly. "The word 'servant' is distasteful to you. You feel it is a disgrace to be called a servant. I see! I see!" In a fatherly way, the old man resumed: "In a certain sense we are all servants. The history of human achievements is a record of service. The men and women who have helped the world most were all servants—servants to humanity. The happiest man is he who serves. God calls some men to sow and some to reap; some to work in wood and stone; to sing and speak. Work is honorable in all, regardless of the capacity in which we serve. There is no great difference, after all, between the ordinary laborer and the railroad president; both are servants, and the standard of measurement to be applied to each man is the same. It is not so much a question of station in life as it is the question of efficiency. Best of all, work is education. There is culture that comes without college and university. He who graduates from the college of hard work is as honorable as he who takes a degree at Yale or Harvard; for wisdom can be found in shop and foundry, field and factory, in the kitchen amid pots and kettles, as well as in office and school. The truly educated man is the man who has learned the duty and responsibility of doing something useful, something helpful, something to make this old world of ours better and a happier place in which to live. The word 'servant,' Sibylla, is a beautiful one, rightly understood. The greatest man who ever lived was a servant. All His earthly ministry was filled with worthy deeds. When man pleaded with Him to rest, He answered: 'My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.' When one of Christ's followers desired to express the true nature of his work and office, he called himself a servant. He used a word, 'doulos,' which means, in the Greek language, a slave or a bond-servant. By the word 'doulos' he meant to say that his mission in life was to work, to do good, to serve. This man was a great preacher, but it is possible for any one to become a 'doulos' in so far as he is willing to serve God and his fellowman. You see, Sibylla, the spirit of Christian work and brotherly love is the spirit of 'doulos.' The word has been transformed by service and unselfish devotion to duty. Great men who have blessed the world, and good and noble women who have helped to uplift humanity, have done it through service. It is just as honorable to bake well, and cook well, and to do the humblest daily tasks efficiently, as it is to play well on the piano and talk fluently about the latest books."

At the conclusion of the Professor's little talk on the dignity of labor, a new light shone in Sibylla's eyes and a new thought gripped her soul. The spirit of "doulos" had displaced her antipathy toward the word servant.

"I'll take that butter over to the Professer's home right away," she said, to herself.

Before leaving Sibylla, the Professor quoted from the "Toiling of Felix," by Henry Vandyke:

"Hewing wood and drawing water, splitting stones and cleaving sod, All the dusty ranks of labour, in the regiment of God, March together toward His triumph, do the task His hands prepare; Honest toil is holy service, faithful work is praise and prayer."

They who work without complaining, do the holy will of God.

Heaven is blest with perfect rest, but the blessing of earth is toil.

Sibylla Linsabigler was a healthy, large-boned, solidly-built, typical "Pennsylvania German" girl. Her clear, pinkish complexion looked as if freshly scrubbed with soap and water. A few large, brown freckles adorned the bridge of her rather broad, flat nose. She possessed red hair and laughing, red-brown eyes, a large mouth, which disclosed beautiful even, white teeth when she smiled, extraordinary large feet and hands, strong, willing and usually good-natured, although possessed of a quick temper, as her red hair indicated. Kind-hearted to a fault, she was of great assistance to Aunt Sarah, although she preferred any other work to that of cooking or baking. She kept the kitchen as well as other parts of the house, to quote Aunt Sarah, "neat as a pin," and did not object to any work, however hard or laborious, as long as she was not expected to do the thinking and planning. She was greatly attached to both Aunt Sarah and Mary, but stood rather in awe of John Landis, who had never spoken a cross word to her in the three years she had lived at the farm.

Sarah Landis, knowing Sibylla to be an honest, industrious girl, appreciated her good qualities, thought almost as much of Sibylla as if she had been her daughter, and treated her in like manner, and for this reason, if for no other, she received willing service from the girl.

Sibylla, a swift worker at all times, never finished work so quickly as on Wednesday and Saturday evenings, when she "kept company" with Jake Crouthamel. "Chake," as Sibylla called him, was a sturdy, red-faced young farmer, all legs and arms. He appeared to be put together loosely at the joints, like a jumping-jack, and never appeared at ease in his ill-fitting "store clothes." He usually wore gray corduroy trousers and big cowhide boots, a pink and white striped shirt and red necktie.

Sibylla did not notice his imperfections, and thought him handsome as a Greek god.

Jake, an honest, industrious young fellow, worked on a near-by farm, owned his own carriage, and had the privilege of using one of the farm horses when he wished, so he and Sibylla frequently took "choy rides," as Sibylla called them.

Jake Crouthamel was usually called "Boller-Yockel," this name having been accorded him on account of his having delivered to a purchaser a load of hay largely composed of rag-weed. The man called him an old "Boller-Yockel," and the name had clung to Jake for years.