CHAPTER VII
Having set up the pole and cap in the meadow, Gessler sent two of his
bodyguard, Friesshardt (I should think you would be safe in pronouncing
this Freeze-hard, but you had better ask somebody who knows) and
Leuthold, to keep watch there all day, and see that nobody passed by
without kneeling down before the pole and taking off his hat to it.
But the people, who prided themselves on being what they called
_üppen zie schnuffen_, or, as we should say, "up to snuff," and
equal to every occasion, had already seen a way out of the difficulty.
They knew that if they crossed the meadow they must bow down before the
pole, which they did not want to do, so it occurred to them that an
ingenious way of preventing this would be not to cross the meadow. So
they went the long way round, and the two soldiers spent a lonely day.
"What I sez," said Friesshardt, "is, wot's the use of us wasting our
time here?" (Friesshardt was not a very well-educated man, and he did
not speak good grammar.) "None of these here people ain't a-going to
bow down to that there hat. Of course they ain't. Why, I can remember
the time when this meadow was like a fair--everybody a-shoving and
a-jostling one another for elbow-room; and look at it now! It's a desert.
That's what it is, a desert. What's the good of us wasting of our time
here, I sez. That's what I sez.
"And they're artful, too, mind yer," he continued. "Why, only this
morning, I sez to myself, 'Friesshardt,' I sez, 'you just wait till
twelve o'clock,' I sez, ''cos that's when they leave the council-house,
and then they'll _have_ to cross the meadow. And then we'll see
what we _shall_ see,' I sez. Like that, I sez. Bitter-like, yer
know. 'We'll see,' I sez, 'what we _shall_ see.' So I waited, and
at twelve o'clock out they came, dozens of them, and began to cross the
meadow. 'And now,' sez I to myself, 'look out for larks.' But what
happened? Why, when they came to the pole, the priest stood in front of
it, and the sacristan rang the bell, and they all fell down on their
knees. But they were saying their prayers, not doing obeisance to the
hat. That's what _they_ were doing. Artful--that's what _they_ are!"
And Friesshardt kicked the foot of the pole viciously with his iron
boot.
"It's my belief," said Leuthold (Leuthold is the thin soldier you see
in the picture)--"it's my firm belief that they are laughing at us.
There! Listen to that!"
A voice made itself heard from behind a rock not far off.
"Where did you get that hat?" said the voice.
"There!" grumbled Leuthold; "they're always at it. Last time it was,
'Who's your hatter?' Why, we're the laughing-stock of the place. We're
like two rogues in a pillory. 'Tis rank disgrace for one who wears a
sword to stand as sentry o'er an empty hat. To make obeisance to a hat!
I' faith, such a command is downright foolery!"
"Well," said Friesshardt, "and why not bow before an empty hat? Thou
hast oft bow'd before an empty skull. Ha, ha! I was always one for a
joke, yer know."
"Here come some people," said Leuthold. "At last! And they're only the
rabble, after all. You don't catch any of the better sort of people
coming here."
A crowd was beginning to collect on the edge of the meadow. Its numbers
swelled every minute, until quite a hundred of the commoner sort must
have been gathered together. They stood pointing at the pole and
talking among themselves, but nobody made any movement to cross the
meadow.
At last somebody shouted "Yah!"
The soldiers took no notice.
Somebody else cried "Booh!"'
"Pass along there, pass along!" said the soldiers.
Cries of "Where did you get that hat?" began to come from the body of
the crowd. When the Swiss invented a catch-phrase they did not drop it
in a hurry.
"Where--did--you--get--that--HAT?" they shouted.
Friesshardt and Leuthold stood like two statues in armour, paying no
attention to the remarks of the rabble. This annoyed the rabble. They
began to be more personal.
"You in the second-hand lobster-tin," shouted one--he meant
Friesshardt, whose suit of armour, though no longer new, hardly
deserved this description--"who's your hatter?"
"Can't yer see," shouted a friend, when Friesshardt made no reply, "the
pore thing ain't alive? 'E's stuffed!"
Roars of laughter greeted this sally. Friesshardt, in spite of the fact
that he enjoyed a joke, turned pink.
"'E's blushing!" shrieked a voice.
Friesshardt turned purple.
Then things got still more exciting.
"'Ere," said a rough voice in the crowd impatiently, "wot's the good of
_torkin'_ to 'em? Gimme that 'ere egg, missus!"
And in another instant an egg flew across the meadow, and burst over
Leuthold's shoulder. The crowd howled with delight. This was something
_like_ fun, thought they, and the next moment eggs, cabbages,
cats, and missiles of every sort darkened the air. The two soldiers
raved and shouted, but did not dare to leave their post. At last, just
as the storm was at its height, it ceased, as if by magic. Everyone in
the crowd turned round, and, as he turned, jumped into the air and
waved his hat.
[Illustration: PLATE III]
A deafening cheer went up.
"Hurrah!" cried the mob; "here comes good old Tell! _Now_ there's
going to be a jolly row!"
