WfW 14.10 - On the way to Unicorn Island - 2

I wrote that I did not know where in the Unicorn Farm timeline this was fitting in, and that I was going  to wait with the archaic words until Susan has arrived at the Farm. But now both issues have been resolved. Here we go:

God’s acre -a churchyard
Larcener -thief
Weed - garment or outfit worn during mourning


In the morning, Mum said that today they would have no time for the pancakes. Grandma had invited them for a reunion.
  "But I have to be at Unicorn Farm at three!" Susan said.
  "You can make it," Ma said, "we'll be at Grandma's at 11 then Dad, Elin or Kurt can drive you to the Farm. Is it really that important?"
  "Oh yes," Susan said emphatically. "Today is the Grand Opening of the Easter holidays. I have to be there!"
  "Now get dressed," Mum said, "and you as well," she added looking sternly at Linda who still lay in her bed with only half an eye open.

At Grandma's place everybody had already arrived when finally Mum, Dad, Linda and Susan got there. Mum hugged her brother and three sisters, said hello to their spouses and her father, Granddad, who as usual sat in the big armchair by the desk, then she went into the kitchen to help Grandma set the table.  Linda was soon involved in a discussion about the latest fashion and music with Auntie G.s three girls, Susan felt left out. The two oldest cousins, two dour men, one long and thin, one squat and fat, sat discussing something monetary with Mum's brother, Frans, and the two smallest cousins, his daughters, were too young to really be any fun just yet, and clung to their mum's skirts. Granny came in, carrying a huge basket of bread. "Susan, have you ever seen my Autograph Album?"
  "No," Susan answered, "I did not even know you had one."
  "Oh yes, it was a total craze when I was young. These things seem to come and go. But I've misplaced it. Could you search for it, please?"
  "Of course, Grandma!" Susan said and got up. Grandma did not have very many books, a smallish bookcase in the best room, where they were to eat, had ample space for all of them. The topmost shelf contained cookbooks, books on herbs and spices and illnesses in animals. Susan put them in order, after subject, and continued. The middle shelf held assorted books, penny dreadfuls, romances and novels, all badly printed and on cheap paper. The names in the books were those of Mum and her siblings, and the dates from their youth. Susan also placed them nicely in their shelf. The bottom shelf held newspapers, photo albums and a big, old Bible, Susan looked inside. The first page was filled up with names and dates, Susan could not read more than a letter here and there. She turned to the printed text. It looked strange as well. "Have I forgotten how to read, or did somebody cast a spell on this book?" Susan thought to herself. She glanced at the newspaper, It was readable as usual. "Phew, I have not forgotten how to read." Auntie G cam in, carrying a tray. "Oh you've found the old Bible. Unfortunately it's not our family's names written there. It was given to Granny by an old friend."
  "Can you read this?" Susan asked. "Because I can't."
  "Oh, yes I can. But I see why you can't. This is the way everybody wrote before the turn of the century, but some places people continued to write like this. In rural communities in particular the change to Latin was slow. You see that last line there and the date 1918, it's still written like that. It's called Deutshce Schrift or Current, It's not that hard when you know the letters. Wait a sec. I'll get a book from my place."

As Auntie G lived in a modern house on the same plot, it was only a matter of minutes before she returned. But in the meantime Susan had stacked the newspapers neatly and found the Album. It had slid down the newspapers, and wedged itself between shelf and backing. It was a slim, rose-coloured book, with slightly indented multi-coloured roses and forget-me-nots in the corners, and the word "Poesibog" printed in gold in the middle of the page, in big flowing letters, also indented to protect the gold. Susan was reminded of Laura Ingalls and her book in Little Town on the Prairie. It must have looked something like this. And it proved to Susan, that Grandma's dad, a merchant on an island not far from where Grandma now lived, had been rather well off. But the book was a huge disappointment for Susan when she opened it. It was written in that very same scribble as the names in the Bible.

Auntie G returned, holding a slim, worn schoolbook. "This is the original book," she said, "You can borrow it for today, but later on you'll have to buy your own, modern copy. These can - thanks to the rampant genealogy craze - be had very cheap in any book-store. It's called Hanebogen. (The Rooster Book) for the picture on the front page." She opened the book at the marker. "Here's the alphabet in Current and the printed version too, it's called Blackletters, Fraktur or normally Gothic. Earlier two different types of letters existed side by side. Gothic and what we now think of as normal letters, called Antiqua, or Latin type. And they fought for supremacy. In the end Antiqua won everywhere, last of all in Germany, where some old people even today use Deutshce Schrift. Now you can study the letters, and after dinner, I'll help you read some of the poems in that Album."
  Susan sat down outside in the sunshine and copied the strange-looking letters from the book into her diary-cum-notebook, that she always carried with her. When Grandma called them all in to eat, she could read several of the learning verses in the schoolbook.

A page from Hanebogen

Dinner was nice, but Susan could not really enjoy it. She wanted to read Grandma's Album, and she wanted to be at Unicorn Farm in time for the opening.
  Auntie G sensed her discomfiture, and rose and came over to her. "Let's get started on the reading," she said. And to Grandma: "Would you please excuse us. We have some learning to do!"
  "Off you go!" Grandma said. I'll send someone for you when the coffee is ready."
Auntie G and Susan sat down at a bench in the garden in the sunny nook, Auntie G and her girls had built with all the stones from the garden. It was a lovely place on a cool spring day.

Susan and Auntie G slowly read the faded letters and found these poems on the first page of the album.

                Saturday 12 October 1918.
When widow's weed once you'll wear,
and in God's Acre sit and cry
Remember that I am not there
I wait for you in heaven's sky
        Peter, forever yours

                Monday 14 October 1918
When Death, ultimate larcener
Has taken all that you hold dear.
Remember we'll in Heaven meet
Though death is bitter, life is sweet.
            Olrik, your friend forever

  "Those two are rather morbid," Susan said.
  "Look at the dates," Auntie G said. "Grandma was 14 years old, and they were written during WWI and the Spanish Flu. Those two boys maybe died.  Grandma has told me of classmates and beaus, who never made it."

  "What's the time?" Susan asked suddenly.
  "Half past one." Auntie G answered.
  "Oh!"  Susan exclaimed. "I got to run. I wonder if I really can make dad take me there."
  "Take you where?" Auntie G asked.
  Susan told of the Unicorn Farm, the official part, that is, and of the festive opening planned for today.
  "Know what, Susan?" Auntie G said. I'll drive you. I've borrowed a car from a friend of mine this week, because I'm working night shift at the hospital during the holidays. Go in and say your goodbyes while I get the keys."

Continued in Unicorn Farm - Easter Holidays from June 2019