The Nuts
Ebers, Georg, 1837-1898
English
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THE NUTS
A Christmas Story for my Children and Grandchildren
By Georg Ebers
The wounded colonel, whom we were nursing back to health in our house,
was not allowed to walk long, and in the after noon, after he had
pottered about a little, he was obliged to rest in the comfortable old
easy-chair, which was known as grandfather's chair.
When twilight fell, our dear guest lighted the last of the three pipes,
which the doctor permitted him to smoke every day, and made a sign to the
children, which the young people obeyed gladly, for they loved to listen
to his stories.
The convalescent was under orders not to talk for more than half an hour
at a time, for his wounds were so severe that our experienced physician
declared it to be contrary to the laws of nature and quite phenomenal
that he should be among the living at all.
As for his stories, they had never failed to hold the attention of his
audience; this was partly due to the fact that he usually had to break
them off at the point where the interest had reached its climax.
Moreover, the deep voice of the narrator was much gentler than one would
have expected, after looking at the broad-shouldered, heavy figure, and
there lay in his suppressed, and often whispered tones a secret charm,
which the children were not the only ones to feel; besides which his eyes
produced their share of the profound impression, for every emotion that
disturbed his easily-excited soul found a reflection therein.
That the colonel openly preferred our six-year-old Hermy to his brothers
and sisters was due to the circumstance that the child had once burst
into tears at a look from the officer, which the latter employed to call
the children to order, if they were inattentive, or exhibited signs of
unbelief when he had not expected it. After this Hermy was so evidently
his darling that there was no further chance for Hermy's younger sister,
who had at first promised to be the favourite, and I shall never forget
the soft, almost motherly, caressing tones that came from that grey-
bearded man with the large round head and strong face, when he sought to
comfort the child.
It was remarkable to see how easily this man, who was accustomed to
obedience, and famous for his bravery and keen energy, could become a
child among children. He had lost a beloved wife, a little son, about
Hermy's age, and a young daughter, and no doubt our numerous family
reminded him of these departed ones. As for his tales, he separated them
into distinct categories. Some of them he began with the words: "Here I
am," and then he held himself strictly to the truth. Others began: "Once
upon a time." While the former were drawn mostly from his own full and
eventful life, the latter were fairy stories, pure and simple, sometimes
already well known, sometimes made up, wherein fairies, ghosts, elves,
gnomes, goblins and dragons, will-o'-the-wisps, nixies, kelpies and
dwarfs disported themselves.
Christmas was approaching, and the next day, Christmas-eve, the tree was
to be lighted. On the twenty-third of December, a little while before
the hour for story-telling, Hermy came home, and exhibited to his
brothers the trifling presents, which he had chosen: an eraser for his
father, a lead-pencil for his mother, a bag of nuts for his grandmother,
and similar trifles which, though insignificant in themselves, had
nevertheless exhausted his little store of savings. His elder brothers,
to whom he had exhibited with great pride these purchases, expressed none
of the admiration which he had expected, but began to tease him by
calling the things "trash," as indeed they were, and poking fun at the
"wonderful presents" of their small brother; they would have been less
cruel, perhaps, had he been one of their sisters.
Karl wanted to know what their father, who never was known to make a
drawing, would do with an eraser, and Kurt added that he did not see the
use of giving their grandmother nuts, when she had more in her own garden
than all of them put together would receive on ten Christmas-eves.
Bright tears gathered in the eyes of the little one, and he cast a
troubled look at his despised treasures, in which he had rejoiced so
heartily only a short time before.
He began to sob quietly, and saying dejectedly: "But I hadn't any more
money!" he stuffed his gifts, shorn of their glamour into his pockets.
The colonel had watched the scene in silence; now, however, he drew his
favourite to him, kissed him, and caressed his fair curls. Then he
invited him gaily to sit right close to him on the footstool, and bade
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