this boy and girl live in the mountains of switzerland. the language which they use is a very strange one, called schweizer-deutsch (swiss-german).
these children in the picture are dressed up in their sunday clothes to have their photographs taken. when they go home to the little village way up on the mountain side they will take off these garments and put on their everyday things. hans will draw a long-sleeved black apron over his school suit, and then, fastening on his back the wooden pail which you see in the picture, will run down the steep cobble-stoned street, with his shoes clattering at every step, to the big stone fountain to draw water for his mother. it takes a long time to draw that pail of water, for all the boys run out to hear about what he saw in berne that day when he had his photograph taken. so hans tells them about the two big bears in the bear pit, to whom he and gretchen threw some bits of bread and an apple; about the tall clock tower built three or four hundred years ago, where carved bears march around and strike a big gong every hour. you know that berne is full of bears. the coat of arms of the city is a bear with a banner, and not only have live bears been maintained at public expense for many, many years, but bears of all kinds, carved in wood and stone, painted, or wrought in plaster, are seen everywhere.
two little switzers.
hans has at last filled his pail and hurries back to the house, whose thatched roof is so low that it almost touches the ground. gretchen has taken off her grandmother’s clothes and is busy helping the mother prepare supper. she is very proud of the fact that her pretty filagree chains and pins, together with her velvet bodice and delicate muslin waist, were worn by the dear old grandmother, on whose grave she lays fresh flowers every sunday. by and by they all draw the straight wooden chairs to the table and the father says a simple prayer. hans and gretchen eat thankfully the black bread and creamy cheese which was made last summer up on the alps high above them, where the snow flowers bloom and the winds blow cold from the glaciers.
when the curfew bell in the church tower rings out at sundown hans and gretchen tumble into their bed on the top of the stove. yes, really, on the top of the big, square white porcelain stove! it is a good, warm place, although it never gets hot, and even on bitter january nights, covered with a big red feather bed, the children are only comfortably warm. they cannot fall off because the father has placed high boards on each side of the bed.
early in the morning, by the light of a candle, they drink coffee, with plenty of milk, but no sugar. it is only on great festivals, like birthdays and christmas, that they taste sugar or cake. by seven o’clock hans buckles on his knapsack, in which he carries his books, and after helping gretchen to adjust hers they both run gayly off to school, each one carrying in a roomy basket a huge chunk of black bread to eat at ten o’clock.
