{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33673/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33673","id":"gutenberg_33673","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33673","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by Chris Curnow, Johnnie Hollowell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n THE KING OF THE\n GOLDEN RIVER\n\n OR THE\n BLACK BROTHERS\n\n\n A Legend of Stiria.\n\n BY JOHN RUSKIN, M.A.\n\n ILLUSTRATED BY RICHARD DOYLE.\n\n BOSTON:\n PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY.\n 1885.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n ADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nThe Publishers think it due to the Author of this Fairy Tale, to state\nthe circumstances under which it appears.\n\nTHE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER was written in 1841, at the request of a\nvery young lady, and solely for her amusement, without any idea of\npublication. It has since remained in the possession of a friend, to\nwhose suggestion, and the passive assent of the Author, the Publishers\nare indebted for the opportunity of printing it.\n\nThe Illustrations, by Mr. Richard Doyle, will, it is hoped, be found to\nembody the Author's ideas with characteristic spirit.\n\n        *       *       *       *       *\n\n J. S. CUSHING & CO., PRINTERS, BOSTON.\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n CHAPTER I.\n\n HOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS\n WAS INTERFERED WITH BY SOUTH-WEST WIND, ESQUIRE                9\n\n CHAPTER II.\n\n OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER THE\n VISIT OF SOUTH-WEST WIND, ESQUIRE; AND HOW LITTLE\n GLUCK HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH THE KING OF THE GOLDEN\n RIVER                                                         28\n\n CHAPTER III.\n\n HOW MR. HANS SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN\n RIVER, AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN                           40\n\n CHAPTER IV.\n\n HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE\n GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN                    51\n\n CHAPTER V.\n\n HOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE\n GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN; WITH\n OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST                                     56\n\n\n\n\n LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n DESIGNED AND DRAWN ON WOOD BY RICHARD DOYLE\n\n\n SUBJECTS.                               ENGRAVERS.                PAGE\n\n South-West Wind, Esq., knocking                                Frontis-\n at the Black Brothers' door            _C. Thurston Thompson_    piece.\n\n The Treasure Valley                    _C. Thurston Thompson_    Title.\n\n Initial Letter, and Mountain Range     _G. and E. Dalziel_        9\n\n South-West Wind, Esq., seated on\n the hob                                _G. and E. Dalziel_       18\n\n South-West Wind, Esq., bowing to\n the Black Brothers                     _H. Orrin Smith_          21\n\n Storm Scene                            _G. and E. Dalziel_       25\n\n Card of South-West Wind, Esq.          _H. Orrin Smith_          27\n\n Initial Letter, and Cottage in the\n Treasure Valley                        _Isabel Thompson_         28\n\n The Black Brothers drinking and\n Gluck working                          _C. S. Cheltnam_          30\n\n Gluck looking out at the Golden River  _H. D. Linton_            32\n\n The Golden Dwarf appearing to Gluck    _G. and E. Dalziel_       36\n\n Gluck looking up the Chimney           _H. Orrin Smith_          39\n\n The Black Brothers beating Gluck       _C. S. Cheltnam_          40\n\n Hans and Schwartz fighting             _H. Orrin Smith_          41\n\n Schwartz before the Magistrate         _C. S. Cheltnam_          42\n\n Hans and the Dog                       _H. Orrin Smith_          47\n\n The Black Stone                        _G. and E. Dalziel_       50\n\n Initial Letter--Gluck\n releasing Schwartz                     _G. and E. Dalziel_       51\n\n Schwartz ascending the Mountain        _H. Orrin Smith_          53\n\n Initial Letter--Gluck ascending the\n Mountain                               _H. Orrin Smith_          56\n\n Priest giving Gluck Holy Water         _G. and E. Dalziel_       57\n\n Gluck and the Child                    _C. S. Cheltnam_          59\n\n\n\n\n THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER;\n\n OR,\n\n THE BLACK BROTHERS.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER I.\n\nHOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS WAS INTERFERED WITH BY\nSOUTH-WEST WIND, ESQUIRE.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in old time, a\nvalley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was\nsurrounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains, rising into\npeaks, which were always covered with snow, and from which a number of\ntorrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward,\nover the face of a crag so high, that, when the sun had set to\neverything else, and all below was darkness, his beams still shone full\nupon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower of gold. It was,\ntherefore, called by the people of the neighbourhood, the Golden River.\nIt was strange that none of these streams fell into the valley itself.\nThey all descended on the other side of the mountains, and wound away\nthrough broad plains and by populous cities. But the clouds were drawn\nso constantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in the circular\nhollow, that in time of drought and heat, when all the country round was\nburnt up, there was still rain in the little valley; and its crops were\nso heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so red, and its grapes so\nblue, and its wine so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel\nto every one who beheld it, and was commonly called the Treasure Valley.\n\nThe whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, called\nSchwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,\nwere very ugly men, with over-hanging eyebrows and small dull eyes,\nwhich were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into _them_, and\nalways fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the\nTreasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed everything\nthat did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, because they\npecked the fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they should suck the\ncows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs in the kitchen;\nand smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all summer in the lime\ntrees. They worked their servants without any wages, till they would not\nwork any more, and then quarrelled with them, and turned them out of\ndoors without paying them. It would have been very odd, if with such a\nfarm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got very rich; and very\nrich they _did_ get. They generally contrived to keep their corn by them\ntill it was very dear, and then sell it for twice its value; they had\nheaps of gold lying about on their floors, yet it was never known that\nthey had given so much as a penny or a crust in charity; they never went\nto mass; grumbled perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of\nso cruel and grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom\nthey had any dealings, the nickname of the \"Black Brothers.\"\n\nThe youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both\nappearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined\nor desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and kind\nin temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree\nparticularly well with his brothers, or rather, they did not agree with\n_him_. He was usually appointed to the honourable office of turnspit,\nwhen there was anything to roast, which was not often; for, to do the\nbrothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon themselves than\nupon other people. At other times he used to clean the shoes, floors,\nand sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was left on them, by\nway of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, by way of\neducation.\n\nThings went on in this manner for a long time. At last came a very wet\nsummer, and everything went wrong in the country around. The hay had\nhardly been got in, when the haystacks were floated bodily down to the\nsea by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the hail; the\ncorn was all killed by a black blight; only in the Treasure Valley, as\nusual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain no where else,\nso it had sun when there was sun no where else. Every body came to buy\ncorn at the farm, and went away pouring maledictions on the Black\nBrothers. They asked what they liked, and got it, except from the poor\npeople, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at their\nvery door, without the slightest regard or notice.\n\nIt was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when one day the\ntwo elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning to little\nGluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let nobody in, and\ngive nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it was\nraining very hard, and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or\ncomfortable looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got nice and\nbrown. \"What a pity,\" thought Gluck, \"my brothers never ask any body to\ndinner. I'm sure, when they've got such a nice piece of mutton as this,\nand nobody else has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it would do\ntheir hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them.\"\n\nJust as he spoke, there came a double knock at the house door, yet heavy\nand dull, as though the knocker had been tied up--more like a puff than\na knock.\n\n\"It must be the wind,\" said Gluck; \"nobody else would venture to knock\ndouble knocks at our door.\"\n\nNo; it wasn't the wind: there it came again very hard, and what was\nparticularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not to\nbe in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went to the window,\nopened it, and put his head out to see who it was.\n\nIt was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had ever seen\nin his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-coloured; his\ncheeks were very round, and very red, and might have warranted a\nsupposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last\neight-and-forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long silky\neyelashes, his moustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each\nside of his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt\ncolour, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four feet six in\nheight, and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,\ndecorated with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet was\nprolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of\nwhat is now termed a \"swallow tail,\" but was much obscured by the\nswelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must\nhave been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling\nround the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders to\nabout four times his own length.\n\nGluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the singular appearance of his\nvisitor, that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the old\ngentleman, having performed another, and a more energetic concerto on\nthe knocker, turned round to look after his fly-away cloak. In so doing\nhe caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the window, with\nits mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.\n\n\"Hollo!\" said the little gentleman, \"that's not the way to answer the\ndoor: I'm wet, let me in.\"\n\nTo do the little gentleman justice, he _was_ wet. His feather hung down\nbetween his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella;\nand from the ends of his moustaches the water was running into his\nwaistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.\n\n\"I beg pardon, sir,\" said Gluck, \"I'm very sorry, but I really can't.\"\n\n\"Can't what!\" said the old gentleman.\n\n\"I can't let you in, sir,--I can't, indeed; my brothers would beat me to\ndeath, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?\"\n\n\"Want?\" said the old gentleman, petulantly. \"I want fire, and shelter;\nand there's your great fire there blazing, cracking, and dancing on the\nwalls, with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I only want to warm\nmyself.\"\n\nGluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window, that he\nbegan to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned, and\nsaw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing long bright\ntongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the savoury\nsmell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it should\nbe burning away for nothing. \"He does look _very_ wet,\" said little\nGluck; \"I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour.\" Round he went to\nthe door, and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, there\ncame a gust of wind through the house, that made the old chimneys\ntotter.\n\n\"That's a good boy,\" said the little gentleman. \"Never mind your\nbrothers. I'll talk to them.\"\n\n\"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing,\" said Gluck. \"I can't let you stay\ntill they come; they'd be the death of me.\"\n\n\"Dear me,\" said the old gentleman, \"I'm very sorry to hear that. How\nlong may I stay?\"\n\n\"Only till the mutton's done, sir,\" replied Gluck, \"and it's very\nbrown.\"\n\nThen the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himself down on\nthe hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for it\nwas a great deal too high for the roof.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"You'll soon dry there, sir,\" said Gluck, and sat down again to turn the\nmutton. But the old gentleman did _not_ dry there, but went on drip,\ndrip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, and sputtered,\nand began to look very black, and uncomfortable: never was such a cloak;\nevery fold in it ran like a gutter.\n\n\"I beg pardon, sir,\" said Gluck at length, after watching the water\nspreading in long, quicksilverlike streams over the floor for a quarter\nof an hour; \"mayn't I take your cloak?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" said the old gentleman.\n\n\"Your cap, sir?\"\n\n\"I am all right, thank you,\" said the old gentleman rather gruffly.\n\n\"But,--sir,--I'm very sorry,\" said Gluck, hesitatingly; \"but--really,\nsir,--you're--putting the fire out.\"\n\n\"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then,\" replied his visitor drily.\n\nGluck was very much puzzled by the behaviour of his guest; it was such a\nstrange mixture of coolness and humility. He turned away at the string\nmeditatively for another five minutes.\n\n\"That mutton looks very nice,\" said the old gentleman at length. \"Can't\nyou give me a little bit?\"\n\n\"Impossible, sir,\" said Gluck.\n\n\"I'm very hungry,\" continued the old gentleman: \"I've had nothing to eat\nyesterday, nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a bit from the\nknuckle!\"\n\nHe spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite melted Gluck's\nheart. \"They promised me one slice to-day, sir,\" said he; \"I can give\nyou that, but not a bit more.\"\n\n\"That's a good boy,\" said the old gentleman again.\n\nThen Gluck warmed a plate, and sharpened a knife. \"I don't care if I do\nget beaten for it,\" thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice out of\nthe mutton, there came a tremendous rap at the door. The old gentleman\njumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly become inconveniently warm.\nGluck fitted the slice into the mutton again, with desperate efforts at\nexactitude, and ran to open the door.\n\n\"What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?\" said Schwartz, as he\nwalked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face. \"Ay! what for, indeed,\nyou little vagabond?\" said Hans, administering an educational box on the\near, as he followed his brother into the kitchen.\n\n\"Bless my soul!\" said Schwartz when he opened the door.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Amen,\" said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off, and was\nstanding in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible\nvelocity.\n\n\"Who's that?\" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, and turning to\nGluck with a fierce frown.\n\n\"I don't know, indeed, brother,\" said Gluck in great terror.\n\n\"How did he get in?\" roared Schwartz.\n\n\"My dear brother,\" said Gluck, deprecatingly, \"he was so _very_ wet!\"\n\nThe rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head; but, at the instant, the\nold gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed with a\nshock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What was very\nodd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap, than it flew out of\nSchwartz's hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell into the\ncorner at the further end of the room.\n\n\"Who are you, sir?\" demanded Schwartz, turning upon him.\n\n\"What's your business?\" snarled Hans.\n\n\"I'm a poor old man, sir,\" the little gentleman began very modestly,\n\"and I saw your fire through the window, and begged shelter for a\nquarter of an hour.\"\n\n\"Have the goodness to walk out again, then,\" said Schwartz. \"We've quite\nenough water in our kitchen, without making it a drying house.\"\n\n\"It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my grey\nhairs.\" They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.\n\n\"Ay!\" said Hans, \"there are enough of them to keep you warm. Walk!\"\n\n\"I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of bread before\nI go?\"\n\n\"Bread, indeed!\" said Schwartz; \"do you suppose we've nothing to do with\nour bread, but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?\"\n\n\"Why don't you sell your feather?\" said Hans, sneeringly. \"Out with\nyou.\"\n\n\"A little bit,\" said the old gentleman.\n\n\"Be off!\" said Schwartz.\n\n\"Pray, gentlemen.\"\n\n\"Off, and be hanged!\" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he had\nno sooner touched the old gentleman's collar, than away he went after\nthe rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the corner\non top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old gentleman\nto turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him, when away he went\nafter Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against the wall as he\ntumbled into the corner. And so there they lay, all three.\n\nThen the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the opposite\ndirection; continued to spin until his long cloak was all wound neatly\nabout him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one side (for it\ncould not stand upright without going through the ceiling), gave an\nadditional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and replied with perfect\ncoolness: \"Gentlemen, I wish you a very good morning. At twelve o'clock\ntonight I'll call again; after such a refusal of hospitality as I have\njust experienced, you will not be surprised if that visit is the last I\never pay you.\"\n\n\"If ever I catch you here again,\" muttered Schwartz, coming, half\nfrightened, out of the corner--but, before he could finish his sentence,\nthe old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a great bang:\nand there drove past the window, at the same instant, a wreath of ragged\ncloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley in all manner of\nshapes; turning over and over in the air; and melting away at last in a\ngush of rain.\n\n\"A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!\" said Schwartz. \"Dish the\nmutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again--bless me, why,\nthe mutton's been cut!\"\n\n\"You promised me one slice, brother, you know,\" said Gluck.\n\n\"Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all the\ngravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again. Leave the\nroom, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal-cellar till I call\nyou.\"\n\nGluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much mutton\nas they could, locked the rest in the cupboard, and proceeded to get\nvery drunk after dinner.\n\nSuch a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without\nintermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all the\nshutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They usually\nslept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were both\nawakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a violence\nthat shook the house from top to bottom.\n\n\"What's that?\" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Only I,\" said the little gentleman.\n\nThe two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the darkness.\nThe room was full of water, and by a misty moon-beam, which found its\nway through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the midst of it an\nenormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and down like a\ncork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined the little old\ngentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it now, for the\nroof was off.\n\n\"Sorry to incommode you,\" said their visitor, ironically. \"I'm afraid\nyour beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your brother's room:\nI've left the ceiling on, there.\"\n\nThey required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wet\nthrough, and in an agony of terror.\n\n\"You'll find my card on the kitchen table,\" the old gentleman called\nafter them. \"Remember, the _last_ visit.\"\n\n\"Pray Heaven it may!\" said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globe\ndisappeared.\n\nDawn came at last, and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's little\nwindow in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and\ndesolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle, and\nleft in their stead, a waste of red sand and grey mud. The two brothers\ncrept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water had gutted\nthe whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movable thing had been\nswept away, and there was left only a small white card on the kitchen\ntable. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved the\nwords:--\n\n[Illustration: SOUTH WEST WIND ESQUIRE]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nOF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER THE VISIT OF SOUTH-WEST\nWIND, ESQUIRE; AND HOW LITTLE GLUCK HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH THE KING OF\nTHE GOLDEN RIVER.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSouth-west wind, Esquire, was as good as his word. After the momentous\nvisit above related, he entered the Treasure Valley no more; and, what\nwas worse, he had so much influence with his relations, the West Winds\nin general, and used it so effectually, that they all adopted a similar\nline of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley from one year's end to\nanother. Though everything remained green and flourishing in the plains\nbelow, the inheritance of the Three Brothers was a desert. What had once\nbeen the richest soil in the kingdom, became a shifting heap of red\nsand; and the brothers, unable longer to contend with the adverse skies,\nabandoned their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek some means of\ngaining a livelihood among the cities and people of the plains. All\ntheir money was gone, and they had nothing left but some curious\nold-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of their\nill-gotten wealth.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Suppose we turn goldsmiths?\" said Schwartz to Hans, as they entered the\nlarge city. \"It is a good knave's trade; we can put a great deal of\ncopper into the gold, without any one's finding it out.\"\n\nThe thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired a furnace, and\nturned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances affected their trade:\nthe first, that people did not approve of the coppered gold; the second,\nthat the two elder brothers, whenever they had sold anything, used to\nleave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and drink out the money\nin the ale-house next door. So they melted all their gold, without\nmaking money enough to buy more, and were at last reduced to one large\ndrinking mug, which an uncle of his had given to little Gluck, and which\nhe was very fond of, and would not have parted with for the world;\nthough he never drank anything out of it but milk and water. The mug was\na very odd mug to look at. The handle was formed of two wreaths of\nflowing golden hair, so finely spun that it looked more like silk than\nmetal, and these wreaths descended into, and mixed with, a beard and\nwhiskers of the same exquisite workmanship, which surrounded and\ndecorated a very fierce little face, of the reddest gold imaginable,\nright in the front of the mug, with a pair of eyes in it which seemed to\ncommand its whole circumference. It was impossible to drink out of the\nmug without being subjected to an intense gaze out of the side of these\neyes; and Schwartz positively averred, that once, after emptying it,\nfull of Rhenish, seventeen times, he had seen them wink! When it came to\nthe mug's turn to be made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck's\nheart; but the brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the\nmelting-pot, and staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual,\nto pour the gold into bars, when it was all ready.\n\nWhen they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old friend in the\nmelting-pot. The flowing hair was all gone; nothing remained but the red\nnose, and the sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than ever.\n\"And no wonder,\" thought Gluck, \"after being treated in that way.\" He\nsauntered disconsolately to the window, and sat himself down to catch\nthe fresh evening air, and escape the hot breath of the furnace. Now\nthis window commanded a direct view of the range of mountains, which, as\nI told you before, overhung the Treasure Valley, and more especially of\nthe peak from which fell the Golden River. It was just at the close of\nthe day, and, when Gluck sat down at the window, he saw the rocks of the\nmountain tops, all crimson and purple with the sunset; and there were\nbright tongues of fiery cloud burning and quivering about them; and the\nriver, brighter than all, fell, in a waving column of pure gold, from\nprecipice to precipice, with the double arch of a broad purple rainbow\nstretched across it, flushing and fading alternately in the wreaths of\nspray.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Ah!\" said Gluck aloud, after he had looked at it for a while, \"if that\nriver were really all gold, what a nice thing it would be.\"\n\n\"No, it wouldn't, Gluck,\" said a clear, metallic voice, close at his\near.\n\n\"Bless me, what's that?\" exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. There was nobody\nthere. He looked round the room, and under the table, and a great many\ntimes behind him, but there was certainly nobody there, and he sat down\nagain at the window. This time he didn't speak, but he couldn't help\nthinking again that it would be very convenient if the river were really\nall gold.\n\n\"Not at all, my boy,\" said the same voice, louder than before.\n\n\"Bless me!\" said Gluck again, \"what _is_ that?\" He looked again into all\nthe corners and cupboards, and then began turning round and round as\nfast as he could in the middle of the room, thinking there was somebody\nbehind him, when the same voice struck again on his ear. It was singing\nnow, very merrily, \"Lala-lira-la;\" no words, only a soft running\neffervescent melody, something like that of a kettle on the boil. Gluck\nlooked out of the window. No, it was certainly in the house. Up stairs,\nand down stairs. No, it was certainly in that very room, coming in\nquicker time and clearer notes every moment. \"Lala-lira-la.\" All at once\nit struck Gluck that it sounded louder near the furnace. He ran to the\nopening and looked in; yes, he saw right, it seemed to be coming, not\nonly out of the furnace, but out of the pot. He uncovered it, and ran\nback in a great fright, for the pot was certainly singing! He stood in\nthe farthest corner of the room, with his hands up and his mouth open,\nfor a minute or two, when the singing stopped, and the voice became\nclear and pronunciative.\n\n\"Hollo!\" said the voice.\n\nGluck made no answer.\n\n\"Hollo! Gluck, my boy,\" said the pot again.\n\nGluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the crucible,\ndrew it out of the furnace, and looked in. The gold was all melted, and\nits surface as smooth and polished as a river; but instead of reflecting\nlittle Gluck's head, as he looked in he saw meeting his glance from\nbeneath the gold, the red nose and sharp eyes of his old friend of the\nmug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever he had seen them in\nhis life.\n\n\"Come, Gluck, my boy,\" said the voice out of the pot again, \"I'm all\nright; pour me out.\"\n\nBut Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.\n\n\"Pour me out, I say,\" said the voice, rather gruffly.\n\nStill Gluck couldn't move.\n\n\"_Will_ you pour me out?\" said the voice, passionately. \"I'm too hot.\"\n\nBy a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took hold of\nthe crucible and sloped it, so as to pour out the gold. But, instead of\na liquid stream, there came out, first a pair of pretty little yellow\nlegs, then some coat tails, then a pair of arms stuck a-kimbo, and\nfinally the well-known head of his friend the mug; all which articles,\nuniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically on the floor, in the\nshape of a little golden dwarf, about a foot and a half high.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"That's right!\" said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs, and then\nhis arms, and then shaking his head up and down, and as far round as it\nwould go, for five minutes without stopping, apparently with the view of\nascertaining if he were quite correctly put together, while Gluck stood\ncontemplating him in speechless amazement. He was dressed in a slashed\ndoublet of spun gold, so fine in its texture, that the prismatic colours\ngleamed over it as if on a surface of mother of pearl; and, over this\nbrilliant doublet, his hair and beard fell full half way to the ground\nin waving curls, so exquisitely delicate, that Gluck could hardly tell\nwhere they ended; they seemed to melt into air. The features of the\nface, however, were by no means finished with the same delicacy; they\nwere rather coarse, slightly inclining to coppery in complexion, and\nindicative, in expression, of a very pertinacious and intractable\ndisposition in their small proprietor. When the dwarf had finished his\nself-examination, he turned his small sharp eyes full on Gluck, and\nstared at him deliberately for a minute or two. \"No, it wouldn't, Gluck,\nmy boy,\" said the little man.\n\nThis was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected mode of commencing\nconversation. It might indeed be supposed to refer to the course of\nGluck's thoughts, which had first produced the dwarfs observations out\nof the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had no inclination to\ndispute the dictum.\n\n\"Wouldn't it, sir?\" said Gluck, very mildly and submissively indeed.\n\n\"No,\" said the dwarf, conclusively, \"no, it wouldn't.\" And with that the\ndwarf pulled his cap hard over his brows, and took two turns, of three\nfeet long, up and down the room, lifting his legs up very high, and\nsetting them down very hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to collect\nhis thoughts a little, and, seeing no great reason to view his\ndiminutive visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosity overcome his\namazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar delicacy.\n\n\"Pray, sir,\" said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, \"were you my mug?\"\n\nOn which the little man turned sharp round, walked straight up to Gluck,\nand drew himself up to his full height. \"I,\" said the little man, \"am\nthe King of the Golden River.\" Whereupon he turned about again, and took\ntwo more turns, some six feet long, in order to allow time for the\nconsternation which this announcement produced in his auditor to\nevaporate. After which, he again walked up to Gluck and stood still, as\nif expecting some comment on his communication.\n\nGluck determined to say something at all events. \"I hope your Majesty is\nvery well,\" said Gluck.\n\n\"Listen!\" said the little man, deigning no reply to this polite inquiry.\n\"I am the King of what you mortals call the Golden River. The shape you\nsaw me in, was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from whose\nenchantments you have this instant freed me. What I have seen of you,\nand your conduct to your wicked brothers, renders me willing to serve\nyou; therefore, attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall climb to the\ntop of that mountain from which you see the Golden River issue, and\nshall cast into the stream at its source, three drops of holy water, for\nhim, and for him only, the river shall turn to gold. But no one failing\nin his first, can succeed in a second attempt; and if any one shall cast\nunholy water into the river, it will overwhelm him, and he will become a\nblack stone.\" So saying, the King of the Golden River turned away and\ndeliberately walked into the centre of the hottest flame of the furnace.\nHis figure became red, white, transparent, dazzling,--a blaze of intense\nlight,--rose, trembled, and disappeared. The King of the Golden River\nhad evaporated.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney after him; \"Oh,\ndear, dear, dear me! My mug! my mug! my mug!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nHOW MR. HANS SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW HE\nPROSPERED THEREIN.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe King of the Golden River had hardly made the extraordinary exit\nrelated in the last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz came roaring into\nthe house, very savagely drunk. The discovery of the total loss of their\nlast piece of plate had the effect of sobering them just enough to\nenable them to stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily for a quarter\nof an hour; at the expiration of which period they dropped into a couple\nof chairs, and requested to know what he had got to say for himself.\nGluck told them his story, of which, of course, they did not believe a\nword. They beat him again, till their arms were tired, and staggered to\nbed. In the morning, however, the steadiness with which he adhered to\nhis story obtained him some degree of credence; the immediate\nconsequence of which was, that the two brothers, after wrangling a long\ntime on the knotty question, which of them should try his fortune first,\ndrew their swords and began fighting. The noise of the fray alarmed the\nneighbours, who, finding they could not pacify the combatants, sent for\nthe constable.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid himself; but\nSchwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for breaking the peace,\nand, having drunk out his last penny the evening before, was thrown into\nprison till he should pay.\n\nWhen Hans heard this, he was much delighted, and determined to set out\nimmediately for the Golden River. How to get the holy water, was the\nquestion. He went to the priest, but the priest could not give any holy\nwater to so abandoned a character. So Hans went to vespers in the\nevening for the first time in his life, and, under pretence of crossing\nhimself, stole a cupful, and returned home in triumph.\n\nNext morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy water into a\nstrong flask, and two bottles of wine and some meat in a basket, slung\nthem over his back, took his alpine staff in his hand, and set off for\nthe mountains.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOn his way out of the town he had to pass the prison, and as he looked\nin at the windows, whom should he see but Schwartz himself peeping out\nof the bars, and looking very disconsolate.\n\n\"Good morning, brother,\" said Hans; \"have you any message for the King\nof the Golden River?\"\n\nSchwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars with all his\nstrength; but Hans only laughed at him, and advising him to make himself\ncomfortable till he came back again, shouldered his basket, shook the\nbottle of holy water in Schwartz's face till it frothed again, and\nmarched off in the highest spirits in the world.\n\nIt was, indeed, a morning that might have made any one happy, even with\nno Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched\nalong the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains--their lower\ncliffs in pale grey shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating\nvapour, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, which ran\nin sharp touches of ruddy colour, along the angular crags, and pierced,\nin long level rays, through their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above,\nshot up red splintered masses of castellated rock, jagged and shivered\ninto myriads of fantastic forms, with here and there a streak of sunlit\nsnow, traced down their chasms like a line of forked lightning; and, far\nbeyond, and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, but\npurer and changeless, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the\neternal snow.\n\nThe Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower and snowless\nelevations, was now nearly in shadow; all but the uppermost jets of\nspray, which rose like slow smoke above the undulating line of the\ncataract, and floated away in feeble wreaths upon the morning wind.\n\nOn this object, and on this alone, Hans' eyes and thoughts were fixed;\nforgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set off at an imprudent\nrate of walking, which greatly exhausted him before he had scaled the\nfirst range of the green and low hills. He was, moreover, surprised, on\nsurmounting them, to find that a large glacier, of whose existence,\nnotwithstanding his previous knowledge of the mountains, he had been\nabsolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source of the Golden\nRiver. He entered on it with the boldness of a practised mountaineer;\nyet he thought he had never traversed so strange or so dangerous a\nglacier in his life. The ice was excessively slippery, and out of all\nits chasms came wild sounds of gushing water; not monotonous or low, but\nchangeful and loud, rising occasionally into drifting passages of wild\nmelody, then breaking off into short melancholy tones, or sudden\nshrieks, resembling those of human voices in distress or pain. The ice\nwas broken into thousands of confused shapes, but none, Hans thought,\nlike the ordinary forms of splintered ice. There seemed a curious\n_expression_ about all their outlines--a perpetual resemblance to living\nfeatures, distorted and scornful. Myriads of deceitful shadows, and\nlurid lights, played and floated about and through the pale blue\npinnacles, dazzling and confusing the sight of the traveller; while his\nears grew dull and his head giddy with the constant gush and roar of the\nconcealed waters. These painful circumstances increased upon him as he\nadvanced; the ice crashed and yawned into fresh chasms at his feet,\ntottering spires nodded around him, and fell thundering across his path;\nand though he had repeatedly faced these dangers on the most terrific\nglaciers, and in the wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive\nfeeling of panic terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flung\nhimself, exhausted and shuddering, on the firm turf of the mountain.\n\nHe had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, which became a\nperilous incumbrance on the glacier, and had now no means of refreshing\nhimself but by breaking off and eating some of the pieces of ice. This,\nhowever, relieved his thirst; an hour's repose recruited his hardy\nframe, and with the indomitable spirit of avarice, he resumed his\nlaborious journey.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHis way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red rocks, without a blade\nof grass to ease the foot, or a projecting angle to afford an inch of\nshade from the south sun. It was past noon, and the rays beat intensely\nupon the steep path, while the whole atmosphere was motionless, and\npenetrated with heat. Intense thirst was soon added to the bodily\nfatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glance after glance he cast\non the flask of water which hung at his belt. \"Three drops are enough,\"\nat last thought he; \"I may, at least, cool my lips with it.\"\n\nHe opened the flask, and was raising it to his lips, when his eye fell\non an object lying on the rock beside him; he thought it moved. It was a\nsmall dog, apparently in the last agony of death from thirst. Its tongue\nwas out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, and a swarm of\nblack ants were crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye moved to the\nbottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised it, drank, spurned the\nanimal with his foot, and passed on. And he did not know how it was, but\nhe thought that a strange shadow had suddenly come across the blue sky.\n\nThe path became steeper and more rugged every moment; and the high hill\nair, instead of refreshing him, seemed to throw his blood into a fever.\nThe noise of the hill cataracts sounded like mockery in his ears; they\nwere all distant, and his thirst increased every moment. Another hour\npassed, and he again looked down to the flask at his side; it was half\nempty; but there was much more than three drops in it. He stopped to\nopen it, and again, as he did so, something moved in the path above him.\nIt was a fair child, stretched nearly lifeless on the rock, its breast\nheaving with thirst, its eyes closed, and its lips parched and burning.\nHans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed on. And a dark grey cloud\ncame over the sun, and long, snake-like shadows crept up along the\nmountain sides. Hans struggled on. The sun was sinking, but its descent\nseemed to bring no coolness; the leaden weight of the dead air pressed\nupon his brow and heart, but the goal was near. He saw the cataract of\nthe Golden River springing from the hill-side, scarcely five hundred\nfeet above him. He paused for a moment to breathe, and sprang on to\ncomplete his task.\n\nAt this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned, and saw a\ngrey-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes were sunk, his\nfeatures deadly pale, and gathered into an expression of despair.\n\"Water!\" he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried feebly, \"Water! I am\ndying.\"\n\n\"I have none,\" replied Hans; \"thou hast had thy share of life.\" He\nstrode over the prostrate body, and darted on. And a flash of blue\nlightning rose out of the East, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice\nover the whole heaven, and left it dark with one heavy, impenetrable\nshade. The sun was setting; it plunged towards the horizon like a\nred-hot ball.\n\nThe roar of the Golden River rose on Hans' ear. He stood at the brink of\nthe chasm through which it ran. Its waves were filled with the red glory\nof the sunset: they shook their crests like tongues of fire, and flashes\nof bloody light gleamed along their foam. Their sound came mightier and\nmightier on his senses; his brain grew giddy with the prolonged thunder.\nShuddering he drew the flask from his girdle, and hurled it into the\ncentre of the torrent. As he did so, an icy chill shot through his\nlimbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The waters closed over his cry.\nAnd the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed\nover\n\nTHE BLACK STONE.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nHOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW\nHE PROSPERED THEREIN.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPoor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house, for Hans'\nreturn. Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened, and\nwent and told Schwartz in the prison, all that had happened. Then\nSchwartz was very much pleased, and said that Hans must certainly have\nbeen turned into a black stone, and he should have all the gold to\nhimself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all night. When he got up\nin the morning, there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so Gluck\nwent, and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so hard, and\nso neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money enough\ntogether, to pay his brother's fine, and he went, and gave it all to\nSchwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then Schwartz was quite\npleased, and said he should have some of the gold of the river. But\nGluck only begged he would go and see what had become of Hans.\n\nNow when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen the holy water, he\nthought to himself that such a proceeding might not be considered\naltogether correct by the King of the Golden River, and determined to\nmanage matters better. So he took some more of Gluck's money, and went\nto a bad priest, who gave him some holy water very readily for it. Then\nSchwartz was sure it was all quite right. So Schwartz got up early in\nthe morning before the sun rose, and took some bread and wine, in a\nbasket, and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for the\nmountains. Like his brother he was much surprised at the sight of the\nglacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving his\nbasket behind him. The day was cloudless, but not bright: there was a\nheavy purple haze hanging over the sky, and the hills looked lowering\nand gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock path, the thirst came\nupon him, as it had upon his brother, until he lifted his flask to his\nlips to drink. Then he saw the fair child lying near him on the rocks,\nand it cried to him, and moaned for water. \"Water indeed,\" said\nSchwartz; \"I haven't half enough for myself,\" and passed on. And as he\nwent he thought the sunbeams grew more dim, and he saw a low bank of\nblack cloud rising out of the West; and, when he had climbed for another\nhour, the thirst overcame him again, and he would have drunk. Then he\nsaw the old man lying before him on the path, and heard him cry out for\nwater. \"Water, indeed,\" said Schwartz, \"I haven't half enough for\nmyself,\" and on he went.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and he looked\nup, and, behold, a mist, of the colour of blood, had come over the sun;\nand the bank of black cloud had risen very high, and its edges were\ntossing and tumbling like the waves of the angry sea. And they cast long\nshadows, which flickered over Schwartz's path.\n\nThen Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his thirst returned;\nand as he lifted his flask to his lips, he thought he saw his brother\nHans lying exhausted on the path before him, and, as he gazed, the\nfigure stretched its arms to him, and cried for water. \"Ha, ha,\"\nlaughed Schwartz, \"are you there? remember the prison bars, my boy.\nWater, indeed! do you suppose I carried it all the way up here for\n_you_?\" And he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed, he thought he\nsaw a strange expression of mockery about its lips. And, when he had\ngone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure was not there.\n\nAnd a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not why; but the thirst\nfor gold prevailed over his fear, and he rushed on. And the bank of\nblack cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of spiry\nlightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heave and float between their\nflashes, over the whole heavens. And the sky where the sun was setting\nwas all level, and like a lake of blood; and a strong wind came out of\nthat sky, tearing its crimson clouds into fragments, and scattering them\nfar into the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by the brink of the\nGolden River, its waves were black, like thunder clouds, but their foam\nwas like fire; and the roar of the waters below, and the thunder above\nmet, as he cast the flask into the stream. And, as he did so, the\nlightning glared in his eyes, and the earth gave way beneath him, and\nthe waters closed over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly\ninto the night, as it gushed over the\n\n TWO BLACK STONES.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nHOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW\nHE PROSPERED THEREIN; WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back, he was very sorry, and\ndid not know what to do. He had no money, and was obliged to go and hire\nhimself again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard, and gave him\nvery little money. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew tired, and made\nup his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden River. \"The little\nking looked very kind,\" thought he. \"I don't think he will turn me into\na black stone.\" So he went to the priest, and the priest gave him some\nholy water as soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck took some bread in his\nbasket, and the bottle of water, and set off very early for the\nmountains.\n\nIf the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers,\nit was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so\npractised on the mountains. He had several very bad falls, lost his\nbasket and bread, and was very much frightened at the strange noises\nunder the ice. He lay a long time to rest on the grass, after he had got\nover, and began to climb the hill just in the hottest part of the day.\nWhen he had climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty, and was\ngoing to drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming down the\npath above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on a staff. \"My son,\"\nsaid the old man, \"I am faint with thirst, give me some of that water.\"\nThen Gluck looked at him, and when he saw that he was pale and weary, he\ngave him the water; \"Only pray don't drink it all,\" said Gluck. But the\nold man drank a great deal, and gave him back the bottle two-thirds\nempty. Then he bade him good speed, and Gluck went on again merrily.\nAnd the path became easier to his feet, and two or three blades of\ngrass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began singing on the bank\nbeside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard such merry singing.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him so\nthat he thought he should be forced to drink. But, as he raised the\nflask, he saw a little child lying panting by the road-side, and it\ncried out piteously for water. Then Gluck struggled with himself, and\ndetermined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle to\nthe child's lips, and it drank it all but a few drops. Then it smiled on\nhim, and got up, and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked after it, till\nit became as small as a little star, and then turned and began climbing\nagain. And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers growing on the\nrocks, bright green moss, with pale pink starry flowers, and soft belled\ngentians, more blue than the sky at its deepest, and pure white\ntransparent lilies. And crimson and purple butterflies darted hither and\nthither, and the sky sent down such pure light, that Gluck had never\nfelt so happy in his life.\n\nYet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became intolerable\nagain; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw that there were only\nfive or six drops left in it, and he could not venture to drink. And, as\nhe was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw a little dog lying on\nthe rocks, gasping for breath--just as Hans had seen it on the day of\nhis ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at it, and then at the Golden\nRiver, not five hundred yards above him; and he thought of the dwarf's\nwords, \"that no one could succeed, except in his first attempt\"; and he\ntried to pass the dog, but it whined piteously, and Gluck stopped again.\n\"Poor beastie,\" said Gluck, \"it'll be dead when I come down again, if I\ndon't help it.\" Then he looked closer and closer at it, and its eye\nturned on him so mournfully, that he could not stand it. \"Confound the\nKing and his gold too,\" said Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured\nall the water into the dog's mouth.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail disappeared, its\nears became long, longer, silky, golden; its nose became very red, its\neyes became very twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, and\nbefore Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of the Golden River.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the monarch; \"but don't be frightened, it's all\nright;\" for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternation at this\nunlooked-for reply to his last observation. \"Why didn't you come\nbefore,\" continued the dwarf, \"instead of sending me those rascally\nbrothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of turning into stones?\nVery hard stones they make too.\"\n\n\"Oh dear me!\" said Gluck, \"have you really been so cruel?\"\n\n\"Cruel!\" said the dwarf, \"they poured unholy water into my stream: do\nyou suppose I'm going to allow that?\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Gluck, \"I am sure, sir--your majesty, I mean--they got the\nwater out of the church font.\"\n\n\"Very probably,\" replied the dwarf; \"but,\" and his countenance grew\nstern as he spoke, \"the water which has been refused to the cry of the\nweary and dying, is unholy, though it had been blessed by every saint in\nheaven; and the water which is found in the vessel of mercy is holy,\nthough it had been defiled with corpses.\"\n\nSo saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his feet.\nOn its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. And the dwarf\nshook them into the flask which Gluck held in his hand. \"Cast these into\nthe river,\" he said, \"and descend on the other side of the mountains\ninto the Treasure Valley. And so good speed.\"\n\nAs he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. The playing\ncolours of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic mist of dewy\nlight: he stood for an instant veiled with them as with the belt of a\nbroad rainbow. The colours grew faint, the mist rose into the air; the\nmonarch had evaporated.\n\nAnd Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its waves were\nas clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun. And, when he cast the\nthree drops of dew into the stream, there opened where they fell, a\nsmall circular whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a musical\nnoise.\n\nGluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed, because\nnot only the river was not turned into gold, but its waters seemed much\ndiminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend the dwarf, and\ndescended the other side of the mountains, towards the Treasure Valley;\nand, as he went, he thought he heard the noise of water working its way\nunder the ground. And, when he came in sight of the Treasure Valley,\nbehold, a river, like the Golden River, was springing from a new cleft\nof the rocks above it, and was flowing in innumerable streams among the\ndry heaps of red sand.\n\nAnd as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams, and\ncreeping plants grew, and climbed among the moistening soil. Young\nflowers opened suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap out when\ntwilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and tendrils of vine,\ncast lengthening shadows over the valley as they grew. And thus the\nTreasure Valley became a garden again, and the inheritance, which had\nbeen lost by cruelty, was regained by love.\n\nAnd Gluck went, and dwelt in the valley, and the poor were never driven\nfrom his door: so that his barns became full of corn, and his house of\ntreasure. And, for him, the river had, according to the dwarf's promise,\nbecome a River of Gold.\n\nAnd, to this day, the inhabitants of the valley point out the place\nwhere the three drops of holy dew were cast into the stream, and trace\nthe course of the Golden River under the ground, until it emerges in the\nTreasure Valley. And at the top of the cataract of the Golden River, are\nstill to be seen TWO BLACK STONES, round which the waters howl\nmournfully every day at sunset; and these stones are still called by the\npeople of the valley\n\n THE BLACK BROTHERS.\n\n\n PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, BOSTON.\n\n\n\n\n WENTWORTH & REED'S\n\n FIRST STEPS IN NUMBER.\n\n _A PRIMARY ARITHMETIC._\n\n FROM PREFACE TO THE TEACHER'S EDITION.\n\nThe object of this book is to provide teachers with a record of the work\ndone in number in the primary schools of to-day.\n\nThere has been no attempt at novelty in the subject-matter, in the\narrangement of work, or in the manner of presentation. The whole is on a\nconstructive basis. Numbers are chief; processes subordinate. What has\nbeen found to be more easily understood precedes the more difficult,\nwithout respect to its scientific relation. Fractions present no greater\ndifficulty than wholes, so they accompany the teaching of integral\nnumbers from the beginning. The law of dependence has been carefully\nobserved, although at first glance the arrangement may not seem to\nwarrant this assertion.\n\nThe object of every teacher is so to present numbers that the mind of\nthe child may grasp firmly the facts concerning them, and hold these\nfacts tenaciously by the law of association. Success lies in requiring\nthe child to _show_ what he is talking about, and in following the \"step\nby step\" rule. The book illustrates these two principles. It abounds in\nexamples which have not before appeared in print, and which are\ncalculated to interest the child from their close connection with his\nvaried experiences. It gives suggestions for versatility of drill, and\nillustrates in detail the teaching of a hundred topics.\n\nIt is expected that the work to the number ten will be taken in one\nyear, the work to twenty in another year, and the remainder of the\ncourse outlined in the book will be covered in two years more.\n\n=A child's book accompanies this edition, which the child may use with\ngreat advantage after he becomes acquainted with figures.=\n\nIt is hoped that this book will find a welcome among all persons\ninterested in leading children by easy and sure paths to a knowledge of\nnumbers.\n\n        *       *       *       *       *\n\n GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS,\n BOSTON, NEW YORK, AND CHICAGO.\n\n\n\n\n\n WENTWORTH'S\n\n GRAMMAR SCHOOL ARITHMETIC,\n\n 350 Pages,\n\nIs designed to give pupils of the grammar-school age an intelligent\nknowledge of the subject and a moderate power of independent thought.\n\nWhether Arithmetic is studied for mental discipline or for practical\nmastery over the every-day problems of common life, mechanical processes\nand routine methods are of no value.\n\nPupils can be trained to logical habits of mind and stimulated to a high\ndegree of intellectual energy by solving problems adapted to their\ncapacities. They become _practical_ arithmeticians, not by learning\nspecial business forms, but by founding their knowledge on reasoning\nwhich they fully comprehend, and by being so thoroughly exercised in\nlogical analysis that they are independent of arbitrary rules.\n\nThis Arithmetic contains a great number of well-graded and progressive\nproblems, made up for youths from ten to fourteen years of age.\nDefinitions and explanations are made as brief and simple as possible.\nIt is not intended that definitions should be committed to memory, but\nthat they should be simply discussed by teacher and pupils. Every\nteacher, of course, will be at liberty to give better definitions, and\nto make a better presentation of methods, than those exhibited in the\nbook.\n\nIn short, the chief object in view will be gained if pupils are trained\nto solve the problems by neat and intelligent methods, and are kept free\nfrom set rules and formulas.\n\nA great many number-problems are given in the first pages of the book,\nso that the necessary facility and accuracy in computing under the four\nfundamental rules may be acquired; as want of accuracy and rapidity in\nmere calculations distracts the attention which should be given to the\ninvestigation and correct statement of numerical exercises.\n\nThe Appendix contains a short chapter on the Metric System, a chapter on\nMensuration, and Miscellaneous Problems. The Metric System is treated\nhere because the great majority of grammar-school pupils have no time\nfor the subject, while those who have can as well learn the system at\nthis stage of their progress as earlier. The chapter on Mensuration is\nsuited to the ability of beginners. The intention is not to give a\nsystem of Geometry, but to render familiar those notions of Geometry\nthat are indispensable for practical purposes. The whole subject has\nbeen illustrated and enforced by numerous practical examples.\n\n\n GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS,\n BOSTON, NEW YORK, AND CHICAGO.\n\n\n\n\n ELEMENTARY LESSONS IN ENGLISH.\n\nThese admirable books harmonize and utilize to a surprising degree most,\nif not all, of the practical advantages of conflicting theories.\n\n     --Dr. G. STANLEY HALL, _Johns Hopkins University_.\n\nTheir universal use would raise many schoolmasters to the rank of\n=teachers=.\n\n     --_State Supt._ M. A. NEWELL, _Md_\n\nNeed only their presence to recommend them.\n\n     --F. W. PARKER, _Prin. Cook Co. Normal School, Ill._\n\nThe brightest and most practical book on the subject yet published.\n\n     --_Supt._ J. O. WILSON, _Washington, D.C._\n\nNone more suggestive and helpful to the young teacher.\n\n     --_Supt._ GEO. HOWLAND, _Chicago, Ill._\n\nBetter than any other.\n\n     --_Supt._ JOHN B. PEASLEE, _Cincinnati_.\n\nThe =only= books that meet the wants of our elementary schools.\n\n     --E. V. DE GRAFF, _Institute Conductor_\n\n\n        *       *       *       *       *\n\n GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS,\n BOSTON, NEW YORK, AND CHICAGO.\n\n\n\n\nMusical Instruction is the most practical instruction given in schools;\nfor music, unlike other branches, becomes immediately useful.\n\n_The Primary or First Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 18 cts.;\nAllowance for old book in exchange, 5 cts.\n\n_The Second Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 20 cts.; Allowance for\nold book, 5 cts.\n\n_The Third Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 20 cts.; Allowance for old\nbook in exchange, 5 cts.\n\n_Intermediate Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 40 cts.; Allowance for\nold book, 10 cts. Consists of the _Second and Third Music Readers_ in\none volume.\n\n_Teacher's Manuals_ Are published in two volumes to accompany\nrespectively the First Reader and Series of Charts, and the Second and\nThird. Introduction Price, 40 cts. each.\n\n_The Independent Music Reader._ Introd. Price, 70 cts.; Allowance for\nold book, 20 cts.\n\n_The Abridged Independent Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 60 cts.;\nAllowance for old book in exchange, 20 cts.\n\n_Fourth Music Reader._ Introduction Price, 94 cts.; Allowance for old\nbook in exchange, 30 cts.\n\n_Abridged Fourth Music Reader._ Introd. Price, 75 cts.; Allowance for\nold book, 30 cts.\n\n_The National Music Charts._ Introduction Price, $5.50; Easel, $1.00.\nSample-leaf sent free to any address.\n\n_High School Music Reader for Mixed Voices._Introduction Price, 94 cts.;\nAllowance for old book in exchange, 30 cts.\n\n_Girls' High School Music Reader._ Introd. Price, $1.25; Allowance for\nold book, 30 cts.\n\n_Hymn and Tune Book for Female Voices._ Introduction Price, 60 cts.\n\n_Hymn and Tune Book for Mixed Voices._ Introduction Price, 60 cts.\n\n_Independent Music Reader and Hymn and Tune_ =Book for Mixed Voices,=\ncombined. Introduction Price, 94 cts.; Allowance for old book, 30 cts.\n\n        *       *       *       *       *\n\n_A valuable pamphlet on Musical Instruction in Schools mailed free on\napplication to the publishers_,\n\n GINN & COMPANY, BOSTON, NEW YORK, AND CHICAGO.","title":"The King of the Golden River; or, the Black Brothers: A Legend of Stiria.","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":10821}