“A fine showing, my Gretli! Thou hast provision for many winters there.”
Gretli beamed with modest pride. “We do our possible!” she said. “Atli is indeed a marvel of strength and industry; and we have our Zitli!” she added, glancing at the lame boy, a lovely look in her face. “Without Zitli, where should we be? He turns the hams, he keeps the fire at the proper height, he stuffs the sausages; unaided he does it! As for the cheese--it is well known that he is called the little Prince of Cheesemakers. Let my gracious Ladies descend, if they will have the condescension, and inspect the cheese room!”
The cheese room was dark and cool--and dripping! No ice in mountain châlets, but through the middle of the room ran a little crystal stream whose water needed no ice.
“It comes down from the Alps!” Zitli explained. “My brother persuaded it, with a wooden conduit; my faith, the good Nix was willing enough; ever since then she sends her stream; in the dryest summer, it never fails. No other châlet has such a stream. It is because of the virtue of my brother and sister!” he added simply.
“Zitli!” Gretli spoke in gentle reproof. “These are not words to say before honorable guests, though I love thee for them, my little one. See, my ladies! here stand the pans, thus, on either side the stream; these are for the cream cheeses, the other for those of milk alone. Observe now the cheeses!”
She led the way proudly to the end of the room--it was really more like a cavern--where, on broad shelves, stood the great round cheeses, tier on tier, all neatly marked with date and weight.
“I didn’t suppose there was so much cheese in the world!” said Honor.
Gretli laughed merrily. “My faith, mademoiselle! Twice in the year we send forth this quantity, from this one châlet, by no means one of the largest of this Alp.”
“But assuredly one of the best!” said Madame Madeleine.
“Madame is kindness in person! We do our possible. Consider then, mademoiselle, that in fifty châlets on this single Alp, equal numbers or larger are made, are sent out twice in the year; and that there are countless Alps in our dear country; mademoiselle sees, without doubt, that there is no danger of the world being without cheese. Look! on this shelf, behold the little cheeses of cream, called _Neufchatel_ from that good town where first they were produced. If Madame permits, we would like, Zitli and I, to present to each of the demoiselles one of these small objects.”