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    A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01
    A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01
    A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01
    Ebook89 pages1 hour

    A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01

    By Georg Ebers and Mary J. Safford

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01
    Author

    Georg Ebers

    Georg Moritz Ebers (Berlin, March 1, 1837 – Tutzing, Bavaria, August 7, 1898), German Egyptologist and novelist, discovered the Egyptian medical papyrus, of ca. 1550 BCE, named for him (see Ebers Papyrus) at Luxor (Thebes) in the winter of 1873–74. Now in the Library of the University of Leipzig, the Ebers Papyrus is among the most important ancient Egyptian medical papyri. It is one of two of the oldest preserved medical documents anywhere—the other being the Edwin Smith Papyrus (ca. 1600 BCE).Ebers early conceived the idea of popularising Egyptian lore by means of historical romances. Many of his books have been translated into English. For his life, see his "The Story of My Life" — "Die Geschichte meines Lebens". (Wikipedia)

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      A Word, Only a Word — Volume 01 - Georg Ebers

      The Project Gutenberg EBook A Word Only A Word, by Georg Ebers, v1 #133 in our series by Georg Ebers

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      **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

      **EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

      *****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****

      Title: A Word Only A Word, Volume 1.

      Author: Georg Ebers

      Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5572] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on August 12, 2002]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V1 ***

      This eBook was produced by David Widger

      [NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. D.W.]

      A WORD, ONLY A WORD

      By Georg Ebers

      Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford

      Volume 1.

      CHAPTER I.

      A word, only a word! cried a fresh, boyish voice, then two hands were loudly clapped and a gay laugh echoed through the forest. Hitherto silence had reigned under the boughs of the pines and tops of the beeches, but now a wood-pigeon joined in the lad's laugh, and a jay, startled by the clapping of hands, spread its brown wings, delicately flecked with blue, and soared from one pine to another.

      Spring had entered the Black Forest a few weeks before. May was just over, yet the weather was as sultry as in midsummer and clouds were gathering in denser and denser masses. The sun was still some distance above the horizon, but the valley was so narrow that the day star had disappeared, before making its majestic entry into the portals of night.

      When it set in a clear sky, it only gilded the border of pine trees on the crest of the lofty western heights; to-day it was invisible, and the occasional, quickly interrupted twittering of the birds seemed more in harmony with the threatening clouds and sultry atmosphere than the lad's gay laughter.

      Every living creature seemed to be holding its breath in anxious suspense, but Ulrich once more laughed joyously, then bracing his bare knee against a bundle of faggots, cried:

      Give me that stick, Ruth, that I may tie it up. How dry the stuff is, and how it snaps! A word! To sit over books all day long for one stupid word—that's just nonsense!

      But all words are not alike, replied the girl.

      Piff is paff, and paff is puff! laughed Ulrich. When I snap the twigs, you always hear them say 'knack, knack,' and 'knack' is a word too. The juggler Caspar's magpie, can say twenty.

      But father said so, replied Ruth, arranging the dry sticks. He toils hard, but not for gold and gain, to find the right words. You are always wanting to know what he is looking for in his big books, so I plucked up courage to ask him, and now I know. I suppose he saw I was astonished, for he smiled just as he does when you have asked some foolish question at lessons, and added that a word was no trifling thing and should not be despised, for God had made the world out of one single word.

      Ulrich shook his head, and after pondering a few minutes, replied.

      Do you believe that?

      Father said so, was the little girl's only answer. Her words expressed the firm, immovable security of childish confidence, and the same feeling sparkled in her eyes. She was probably about nine years old, and in every respect a perfect contrast to her companion, her senior by several summers, for the latter was strongly built, and from beneath his beautiful fair locks a pair of big blue eyes flashed defiance at the world, while Ruth was a delicate little creature, with slender limbs, pale cheeks, and coal-black hair.

      The little girl wore a fashionably-made, though shabby dress, shoes and stockings—the boy was barefoot, and his grey doublet looked scarcely less worn than the short leather breeches, which hardly reached his knees; yet he must have had some regard for his outer man, for a red knot of real silk was fastened on his shoulder. He could scarcely be the child of a peasant or woodland laborer—the brow was too high, the nose and red lips were too delicately moulded, the bearing was too proud and free.

      Ruth's last words had given him food for thought, but he left them unanswered until the last bundle of sticks was tied up. Then he said hesitatingly:

      My mother—you know…. I dare not speak of her before father, he goes into such a rage; my mother is said to be very wicked—but she never was so to me, and I long for her day after day, very, very much, as I long for nothing else. When I was so high, my mother told me a great many things, such queer things! About a man, who wanted treasures, and before whom mountains opened at a word he knew. Of course it's for such a word your father is seeking.

      I don't know,

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