LITMIR.BIZ

      I.

       Reeds in the Wind

       Grazia Deledda

      All day Efix, the Pintor ladies' servant, had worked on the reinforcement of the meager dam which he himself had piled up along the river in the course of his hard work, on the edge of the small farm; and now, at nightfall, he watched his day's work from above, sitting in front of his hut, under the cover of the blue- green reeds that rose up on the white slope of the pigeon hill.

      Quiet and peaceful, veined here and there by a shimmering water, the property rests in the twilight at his feet - this property that Efix regards more as his property than the property of his mistresses. Thirty years of hard work made him grow tightly together with it, and the two fig hedges that surround it on either side like two gray walls slowly winding down over the slope to the river seem to him like the boundaries of the world.

      The servant deliberately did not look beyond her, since the land next to it had once belonged to his mistresses. Why go back to the past ? Pointless grief. No , think about the future and hope for heaven's help.

       And the sky promised a good harvest this year, made the almond trees and peach bushes in the valley floor shine in abundant bloom; and this one, fringed by two white hills, with the blue-misty mountainsfar to the west and the shimmering sea to the east, was as if embedded in green and blue veils, beneath which the river murmured its soporific way.

      But the days were already quite hot - almost too hot, and Efix thought worriedly of the thunderstorms that swell the unchecked river and come out of its banks and devastate everything around it. Hope, yes - but don't trust! Above all, be on the lookout like the reed on the slope, through which even at the slightest breeze a fearful whisper and whisper goes, as if to warn of impending danger.

      That's why he had worked all day and now prayed to God while he waited for the night and woven a rush mat, so that he might bless his work. What good is a small dam if the Lord does not make it imperturbable like a rock with His will?

      So seven rushes through a willow rod and seven prayers to the Lord God and to Our Lady there in the little church in the distance that plunges into the deep blue of the twilight, surrounded by peaceful huts, by an ancient village that has been abandoned for centuries. At this hour, when the moon bloomed like a big rose between the bushes on the hill and the milkweed smelled intoxicating on the river below, Efix's mistresses also said the evening blessing. Miss Esther, the eldest, certainly included him, the poor sinner, in her prayer; and that was enough to make him happy and reward for all his efforts.

       Then a step in the distance suddenly made him look up. He thought he recognized him; it was a quick, light-hearted step, as if an angel were hurrying through the country to proclaim happy and sad tales. The will of the Lord be done forever; it is he who sends good and bad news! But his heart began to pound loudly, and the rushes, which glittered silver like jets of water in the moonlight, trembled in his black, cracked fingers.

      Now the step could no longer be heard. Still, Efix sat motionless and waited.

      The moon rose higher and higher, and the voices of the evening announced to the old man that his day's work was over: the muffled call of the cuckoo, the chirping of the young crickets, a plaintive cry of birds; the sigh of the reeds and the ever lighter song of the river; a mysterious whispering and breathing that seemed to come from within the earth itself. Yes, man's daily work was now over; instead the gnomes, the elves and the restless souls of the dead awoke to ghostly life. The ghosts of the old knights came down from the castle ruins above the village of Galte to the left in the valley and hunted for boars and foxes on the banks of the river; their weapons flashed through the low alder brush, and the hoarse barking of dogs in the distance indicated that they were trotting by.

       Especially on bright moonlit nights, this ghost haunt drives its mysterious nature on the hills and in the valleys, and then man should not disturb him through his presence, since the spirits also him left undisturbed during the day. Yes, then it's time to withdraw and fall asleep under the wing of the Guardian Angels.

      Feix crossed himself and stood up. But he was still expecting someone . Nevertheless, he pushed forward the board that served as the door and leaned against it a large cross made of reed, which was supposed to prevent the evil spirits and the temptations of the devil from entering the hut.

      The moonlight fell through the cracks into the narrow, low room, which of course seemed big enough for him, which was small and thin like a young lad. Of the cone-shaped reed and rush roof because s covered s rohgemauerten walls and had in the middle a hole for removal of smoke, consecrated palm and olive branches, a colorful wax floor, a sickle hanging from cords strung onions and dried herbs tufts down to Protection against the werewolf and a bag of barley to protect against the panas , the erring souls of women who died in childbed . With every breeze, all these things moved, and the cobwebs glittered in the moonlight. The clay jug with the large handles lay on the floor, and next to it lay the overturned kettle.

       Efix shook up the straw sack but did not lie down. Again and again he thought he heard the light, swinging step . Surely someone was approaching there , and suddenly the dogs started beating the neighboring estates, and the whole country, which only recently fell asleep under the murmur of the nocturnal voicesseemed to be, echoed with muffled

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