{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_77279/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_77279","id":"gutenberg_77279","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77279","summary":null,"tags":["Fairy tales"],"text":"THE DWARF\u2019S SPECTACLES\n                                  AND\n                           OTHER FAIRY TALES\n\n\n\n                                TOLD BY\n                               MAX NORDAU\n\n                     TO HIS MAXA FROM HER FOURTH TO\n                          HER SEVENTH BIRTHDAY\n\n                             TRANSLATED BY\n                            MARY J. SAFFORD\n\n                             ILLUSTRATED BY\n               H. A. HART, F. P. SAFFORD, AND R. McGOWAN\n\n\n\n                                New York\n                         THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n                     LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd.\n                                  1905\n\n                          All rights reserved\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF TITLES\n\n\n                                                   PAGE\n    Why the Rose-bush has Thorns                      1\n    Last Year\u2019s Fly                                  11\n    Like seeks Like                                  25\n    The Proud Doll                                   35\n    The Grateful Sparrows                            53\n    The Six Little Glow-worms                        71\n    The Dwarf\u2019s Spectacles                           87\n    The Golden Beetle that went on His Travels      111\n    The Gold Braids                                 133\n    The Cats that wouldn\u2019t catch Mice               149\n    The Elf Child                                   171\n    The Rich Dog and the Poor Dog                   199\n    The Little Girl who travelled in the Big Ship   219\n    The Naughty Brother and the Clever Sister       239\n    The Master                                      257\n    The Heart Thread                                279\n    The Secret Empire                               301\n    The Tame Lion                                   337\n    The Flower Prison                               357\n    Life and Death                                  381\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE ROSE-BUSH HAS THORNS\n\n\nThe rose-bush in the garden is beautiful. But the naughty thorns which\noften pricked your fingers till they bled, when you wanted to pick a\nbud! \u201cThe horrid rose-bush!\u201d I suppose you said, and perhaps even\nstruck at it with a stick. Don\u2019t say that, little girl. When you know\nwhy the rose-bush is covered with thorns from top to bottom, you will\nsee that it is not horrid, but very good.\n\nDo you remember how the nightingale sung during the May nights, when\nthe moon was shining brightly, and the roses were so sweet, and the\nlittle glow-worms glittered in the grass? It sounded like a loud wail,\noften almost like sobbing, so that you felt very sorrowful, and asked\nus, \u201cWhat is the matter with the little nightingale, that she sings so\nmournfully?\u201d\n\nNow I will tell you, as the evening will be long and we have plenty of\ntime.\n\nThere was once a nightingale, the grandmamma of all the nightingales in\nthe country. She came from a hot province in Africa, because it was too\nwarm for her there, and she wanted to live here, where it is cool and\nshady. She looked about in the woods and meadows, and in the great\ngardens behind the houses, to find a tree or bush where she could build\nher nest. All the trees were very kind, offered her a branch or a twig,\nand promised that she should be well taken care of with them. Every one\nwould have been glad to have her for a guest, for she had sung merrily\nas she flew around, so that they all admired her beautiful voice and\nnever wearied of listening to it.\n\nThe nightingale searched long and carefully, perched sometimes on one\ntree, sometimes on another, found one thing here, and something else\nthere, which did not exactly suit her, and finally decided upon the\nrose-bush. It was not too high and it was not too low, its foliage was\nneither too thick nor too thin, no one lived there except a few neat\nand quiet golden beetles, and, above all, it was wonderfully adorned\nwith its roses and completely surrounded by the most delicious\nfragrance. At that time it had no thorns. Its stem was perfectly\nsmooth, so that you could have passed your hand up and down over it\nwithout scratching yourself in the least.\n\nThe nightingale was very much pleased with her choice, and, in her joy\nat having found such a beautiful, suitable dwelling, sang and trilled\nso clearly that all the buds on the rose-bush opened from delight, and\nit was covered in a single night with magnificent full-blown roses.\n\nThe nightingale at once began to build her nest, a beautiful little,\nround nest, under a shady roof of light-green leaves, with big, pale\npink roses in front of the little windows, and, after it was well lined\nwith grass and soft down, she laid several tiny eggs, and brooded over\nthem until the nightingale children were hatched out,\u2014dear little soft\nthings, with black eyes and yellow-gray rough little heads, and yellow\nbeaks, which were always open and always wanted to eat.\n\nMamma Nightingale was so happy that she hardly knew what to do with\nherself, and nursed and fed her little ones\u2014there were three of\nthem\u2014and sang the sweetest lullabies. The neighbor birds came flying\nfrom far and near, perched on the branches of the trees, listened to\nthe young mother\u2019s singing, and flapped their wings,\u2014that\u2019s the way the\nbirds clap applause, because they haven\u2019t any hands.\n\nBut the rose-bush stood near a house where a gray cat lived,\u2014an ugly\ncreature with green eyes, a long, bristling mustache, and big sharp\nclaws. This cat was on bad terms with everybody on account of her\nstealing and evil tricks. She dared not be seen in the day, because the\ndogs would have chased her, and the washerwomen would have thrown hot\nwater on her. She always stayed in a dark cellar, and came out only at\nnight to do all sorts of mischief.\n\nThe wicked cat heard the nightingale singing and was angry, as wicked\npeople always are when they hear or see anything beautiful. The\nsquealing of the mice, before whose holes she watched for hours, seemed\nto her much more musical than the joyous trilling and sweet lullabies\nof the bird-mother. Stealing out of her dark cellar, she crept through\nthe grass and under the bushes to a place from which she could see the\nrose-bush, looked up with her green eyes, and when she discovered the\nnest and the three little birds with their busy mother, she said to\nherself: \u201cOh! that rabble! Those miserable vagabonds! Screaming and\nmaking a racket as if they were the only people in the world. Just\nwait; I\u2019ll teach you to wake respectable folks out of their afternoon\nnap.\u201d Waving the end of her tail to and fro, she crept back again to\nher cellar and waited until it grew dark. Then she came out, walked\nslowly and noiselessly to the rose-bush, and peered up at it.\n\nThe nightingale had just flown away for a short time, as was her\ncustom, to bring her little ones their supper, that is, a few soft\ncaterpillars, and little moths which only fly about after sunset.\nMeanwhile the nightingale children were left alone, twittering happily\nto one another, and rejoicing that mamma would soon come back with\nsomething good to eat.\n\nSuddenly over the edge of the nest appeared a terrible head, with\nfierce green eyes and a frightful mustache. It was the wicked cat,\nwhich, like a true thief, had climbed up the smooth stem of the\nrose-bush, and now fell upon the poor defenceless brood. The little\ndowny birds were so frightened that they did not even find strength to\nutter a feeble cry for help. At least their mortal terror did not last\nlong. Before one could count three, the wicked cat had seized the three\nsisters by the neck, one after another, and killed them with a single\nbite. She threw their little warm bodies out of the nest with her paws,\nand then leaped after them, to eat them at the foot of the rose-bush.\n\nOnly a few crows in a neighboring linden tree had witnessed the murder.\nIt had been done so quickly that they could not prevent it. But now\nthey rushed with loud cries upon the murderess, and pecked her so\nfuriously with their beaks, that she left the little dead nightingales\nlying on the ground and ran back to her cellar, where the crows could\nnot follow her.\n\nMeantime the nightingale came back with her beak full, and put her head\nthrough the roof of rose-leaves above her nest. She saw with terror\nthat it was empty. Dropping the worms and moths, she called so that her\nvoice echoed a long distance through the evening air: \u201cMy children!\nWhere are you? My children!\u201d\n\nThe crows flew up sorrowfully, surrounded her, and told her as gently\nas they could what a misfortune had befallen her. Her little heart\nalmost broke with despair. She let the crows take her to her children,\nand covering them with her wings, mourned over them, and would not\nleave them, until the beetles which are called grave-diggers carried\nthem to the grave. It was a beautiful funeral procession; all the ants,\nmany beetles, and most of the birds in the neighborhood followed in the\ntrain, all mourning and lamenting. But this did not console the poor\nmother, and when, after the burial, she sat alone in her deserted nest,\nshe sobbed aloud and asked the rose-bush in a half-stifled voice,\n\u201cRose-bush, O Rose-bush, why did you allow it, why did you not guard my\nlittle ones better?\u201d\n\nThe rose-bush said nothing, but it was so troubled that all the petals\nfell from its blossoms, and it thought and planned how in the future it\ncould better protect the beloved guest and her family. And then it had\na bright idea. All night long it worked softly, but busily, and when\nday came, it was set from top to bottom with thorns, as sharp and\npointed and crooked as the claws of the wicked cat, and it said in a\nsoothing voice to the grieving nightingale: \u201cCheer up, dear, lovely\nnightingale, lay more eggs, brood over them again, no harm will befall\nthem: you see, no wicked cat can attack your little ones. My thorns\nwill protect them and you.\u201d The nightingale could not bear her\nsolitude. She laid more eggs, brooded over them, and when again several\nsweet little round creatures in gray down filled her nest, she began to\nsing once more, but the song was a different one. No joyous trilling,\nno gay melodies, but the mournful, sobbing tones, which almost always\nmove you to tears. She cannot forget her first little ones, and she\nstill remembers them with sweet sadness, though she is very happy with\nher new darlings.\n\nSince that time the rose-bush has had thorns, and the nightingale sings\nher mournful lament, but at least the cats cannot attack her nest when\nshe flies away for a little while, to get caterpillars and night-moths\nfor her babies.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLAST YEAR\u2019S FLY\n\n\nYou know what becomes of the flies in autumn. As soon as it begins to\ngrow cold, they are weak, stay on the window-panes, don\u2019t fly off even\nwhen you touch them with your finger, and some morning they stick\nmotionless and are dead.\n\nNow once upon a time there was a big brown fly, whose name was\nBuzz-Buzz. One warm summer day, when the window stood open, she had\nflown into the kitchen and did not leave it again; for it was a\ncomfortable place, and suited her very well. There were always grains\nof sugar in the cupboard, and milk and dregs of coffee on the table, so\nthat she had plenty to eat and drink. When she was not licking and\nnibbling, she was cleaning her wings and back with her fore-legs; and\nwhen she was not making herself beautiful, she was watching, curious to\nsee what Marie was doing at the hearth, how she lighted the fire, put\non the pots, salted and spiced, stirred and beat, and tried to guess\nwhat nice things there would be to taste that day.\n\nWhen Marie was not in the kitchen, she chatted with the cricket that\nlived in a crack of the chimney, with whom she had quickly made\nfriends. The cricket was a very lively creature, and never grew tired\nof talking and gossiping, asking questions, and telling stories. There\nwere plenty of visitors, too. As soon as Marie opened the window in the\nmorning, whole swarms of flies flew in,\u2014sisters, cousins, and\nneighbors,\u2014who told Buzz-Buzz all the news, while she politely offered\nthem coffee and cakes. She had them, and could easily do it. It was a\nperpetual feast, and, before she knew it, summer had passed and autumn\ncame.\n\nAt first Buzz-Buzz did not notice it. She was too comfortable. Why\nshould she care, if the frost fell night after night outside? It was\npleasant in her warm kitchen. But she gradually found that some change\nhad taken place in the world. Marie opened the window more and more\nseldom, and the relatives and acquaintances no longer came to call. If\na friend flew in now and then, she seemed strangely dull, scarcely\ntouched the dainties Buzz-Buzz offered, answered questions\nindifferently, and sometimes, to the horror of Buzz-Buzz, suddenly\ndropped down in the middle of a word and did not stir again.\n\nBuzz-Buzz asked the cricket what this meant, but the cricket made no\nanswer. When Buzz-Buzz crawled to the crack and peeped in, she saw the\ncricket lying stretched out, asleep. It slept all the time now, from\nmorning till night, and from night till morning. Buzz-Buzz could not\nunderstand it and began to feel very uneasy. She waited till Marie went\nout, and flew out with her, to look about a little and perhaps discover\nwhy no more visitors came, and why the few who did were so dull and\nfeeble, why they so often grew sick and died while they were sitting in\nthe kitchen with her, drinking coffee.\n\nOut of doors Buzz-Buzz came near faring very badly. She had scarcely\nhad time to notice how different everything looked from usual, when the\ncold chilled every limb, her wings grew heavy, her legs became stiff,\ndarkness surrounded her, and she had barely enough strength left to\nlight on Marie\u2019s cap, and let her carry her home. If Marie had not been\nthere, Buzz-Buzz would never have reached her kitchen alive.\n\nIt was some time before Buzz-Buzz recovered entirely. By degrees the\nrecollection of what she had and had not seen, during her brief flight,\ncame back to her. Why did it look so dreary out of doors? True, there\nwere no terrible swallows, always trying to kill the poor flies, but\nthere were no flies, no gnats, no butterflies, no sign of the usual gay\nlife of noonday. There was not even a patch of blue sky, not a sunbeam,\nnot a single green leaf. Bare trees, gray clouds, and an icy air, which\npierced through the unprotected body like a knife. How fortunate that\nshe had the warm kitchen! There the closed windows did not let the cold\nenter, and it was as comfortable by the hearth as on the most beautiful\nsummer day, only one mustn\u2019t go too near the fire. Buzz-Buzz took care\nnot to do that.\n\nShe had escaped a great danger. This Buzz-Buzz knew very well. She\nrejoiced over it, and rubbed her fore-legs together with much\nsatisfaction. But she did not think only of herself. She remembered the\nothers,\u2014the sisters, cousins, aunts, neighbors, friends, and\nacquaintances with whom, in fair weather, she had spent so many\npleasant hours. They must all be dead. Otherwise, one or another would\nsurely come to visit her. But no one called. This made Buzz-Buzz very\nsad, and though she herself was comfortable, she often sat still in a\ncorner, sighing and grieving for the dead. Perhaps she often wept, too;\nbut I can\u2019t say so positively, because a fly\u2019s tears are so small that\nwe cannot see them unless we watch very carefully.\n\nBuzz-Buzz ate and drank well, and she slept well, too, only a little\ntoo much, so that she grew fat and lazy, and would rather sit quiet or\ncrawl a little on the wall or ceiling than to fly. Flying was growing\ntoo hard for her. She wondered why, after being so nimble, she was now\nsuch a clumsy person, but gradually became used to it. People get used\nto everything\u2014even to loneliness. True, that is the hardest of all. The\nwinter was long and, though the days were short, Buzz-Buzz had more\nthan time enough to think over everything. Especially whether there\nwould ever again be flies in the world. To live all alone in the wide\nworld is surely worse than death. It would be altogether too terrible,\nif she were always to be the only fly. True, she still had one dear\nfriend, the cricket. But the cricket just slept and slept, and she\ncould make nothing of it. Would the lively little creature ever wake up\nagain? Even if it did, though a beloved friend, the cricket was no\nrelation, and could not take the place of one\u2019s own flesh and blood.\nWhen she pondered over these sad thoughts, her heart grew heavy, and\neven sugar cakes and coffee did not taste right. What is the use of\nwealth, if we can share it with no one?\n\nAt last the winter was over, spring came, the sun again shone\nbrilliantly, and there was a shade of green on the dry branches of the\ntwo trees in the garden.\n\nThen one morning a strange thing happened. Marie threw the kitchen\nwindow wide open, a cool, fragrant breeze blew in, which at first made\nBuzz-Buzz shiver, but soon gave her new strength and vigor. After some\nhesitation, she ventured to leave her corner between the wall and the\nceiling and fly to the open window\u2014and lo! almost before she reached\nit, she heard around her the beloved buzzing of her relatives, which\nshe had missed so long. A whole swarm of beautiful, glittering young\nflies were whirling, dancing, and playing in the sunshine, and\nBuzz-Buzz, wild with joy, rushed into the circle and, with outspread\nwings, darted from one to another that were nearest, trying to clasp\nand kiss them, exclaiming in a half-stifled voice: \u201cSisters, dear\nsisters! Oh, how glad I am that I have lived to see you again!\u201d\n\nBut the flies scattered, circling around at a distance, and staring at\nher. Then one cried out, \u201cWho is this scarecrow?\u201d And another giggled,\n\u201cLook at the fat pigeon,\u201d while a third called, \u201cMadam, your wings\nhaven\u2019t been brushed to-day.\u201d Then they all laughed.\n\nBuzz-Buzz was puzzled and offended. It was hard for her to stay in the\nair so long, and she rested on the window-sill, saying mournfully: \u201cDo\nnone of you know me? I am Buzz-Buzz.\u201d And she named many sisters,\ncousins, and friends who had been young and enjoyed life with her the\nyear before.\n\nBut the new generation of flies had no knowledge of these names, and\nthe more poor Buzz-Buzz mentioned, the more suspicious and unfriendly\nthe young flies became. They buzzed together, \u201cLet us take care, she is\na swindler.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, come! Do believe me!\u201d Buzz-Buzz coaxed anxiously. \u201cI had so many\nsisters and friends last year. Then we were a great swarm, as you are\nnow. And I was the gayest one of all. But the autumn came and they all\ndied, and then the winter followed and I was left all alone, and\nbelieved the world had gone to ruin. But now spring has returned and I\nsee my relatives again, and they are just as merry as ever. I am so\nglad to see you, why are you so unkind, and keep away, and do not want\nto own me for your sister?\u201d\n\nThe young flies had come nearer, and listened with greater and greater\nastonishment. They let her go on until her breath failed and she began\nto cough. Then one fly, with gold and ruby eyes, that seemed to be the\nsauciest of them all, answered: \u201cMadam, you\u2019re talking nonsense. You\nthink us more stupid than we are. We are not to be fooled. What do you\nmean by last year? Every fly knows that the world began with us. There\nwas nothing before us. And no one ever saw a fly die, unless a swallow\nor a sparrow ate it. Autumn and winter? Nobody ever heard of such\nthings. As far as flies can remember, everything has always been just\nas it is now. You ought to be ashamed of yourself for trying to impose\nupon us.\u201d\n\nThe others buzzed approvingly, and one called loudly: \u201cDon\u2019t you see\nthat she is crazy? Let the silly chatterbox alone, and come back to our\ndance.\u201d They all waved their gleaming mother-of-pearl wings, and buzzed\naway.\n\n\u201cSisters! Dear sisters!\u201d pleaded Buzz-Buzz, panting for breath, but not\na fly listened and, in an instant, she was alone on the window-sill,\nand the others were far away whirling about in the golden sunshine.\nBuzz-Buzz sat still a short time, as if she was dazed. She could not\nunderstand why her young sisters were so unkind to her, when she had\nbeen longing for them all winter. At last she determined to go back to\nher kitchen and see whether the cricket was awake, so that she could\ntell her adventures and bewail her troubles.\n\nThe cricket really was awake, but another cricket had called, and the\ntwo were chirping busily to each other, so, when Buzz-Buzz came to the\nchimney and put in her head, her friend called somewhat roughly: \u201cWhat\ndo you want here? Don\u2019t you see I have a visitor? I\u2019ve no time for you\nnow!\u201d\n\nBuzz-Buzz, without saying a word, went back to her old corner between\nthe wall and the ceiling, and sat there quietly with drooping wings.\n\nSomething had again changed in the world, and it was full of new life.\nBut what did it avail poor Buzz-Buzz?\n\nShe had grown old and did not suit this new world. I ought to have died\nin the autumn, like all my sisters, she thought sorrowfully, staring at\nthe thin column of smoke which rose from the fire, whirling upward\nthrough the chimney out above the roof, above the house, into the sunny\nair, to the blue sky. She gazed at the floating bluish pillar, and a\ngreat longing seized her to mount upward with the smoke, and be borne\nby its soft, warm breath out into the sunny air, to the blue sky. She\ncrept nearer and nearer. Suddenly she could resist no longer and, with\none bound, leaped into the midst of the pillar of smoke and\ndisappeared.\n\nShe did not know what had happened, she grew dazed, her senses failed,\nshe sank down, and the next moment was a little heap of ashes on the\nburning coals. She had felt no pain, for she was senseless when she\nfell into the fire.\n\nThe cricket in the chimney chirped secrets to the visitor, and outside\nthe open window danced the flies, sure that they would live forever,\nunless a swallow ate them.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIKE SEEKS LIKE\n\n\nOne birthday, a little girl, besides many other beautiful presents,\nreceived from an uncle who always had queer ideas, the gift of a white\nmouse. It was a dear little thing, with soft fur which shone like\nsilver, eyes like rubies, and a fine stiff mustache. It lived in a\npretty, roomy cage, where it had a soft, white cotton-wool bed, the\nvery best food,\u2014that is, large grains of wheat and peeled hazel nuts in\ntwo glass dishes,\u2014and a wheel which could be turned from the inside or\noutside, and on whose spokes it could ride.\n\nThe little girl was very much pleased with the white mouse, for she\nloved all harmless animals. She was not even afraid of it, like other\nchildren, who scream when they see a poor little mouse run across the\nfloor, but took it bravely in her hand and stroked it. The mouse was\nforced to permit this, but seemed to find no pleasure in it, for the\nlittle creature trembled in every limb, and its heart beat so quickly\nwith fright that one could not count the throbs.\n\n\u201cCome, don\u2019t be afraid,\u201d said the little girl. \u201cI\u2019m not a cat, and I\nwon\u2019t eat you.\u201d She put it back into the cage. \u201cYou are still shy, but\nyou\u2019ll get used to me. I\u2019ll love you dearly and treat you well; then\nyou will love me, too, and be my grateful little friend.\u201d\n\nShe insisted upon taking care of her little mouse herself. Every day\nshe cleaned its cage, changed the cotton-wool, filled the glass dishes,\nand, during the warm hours of the day, placed the cage on the\nwindow-sill, covering the outside with a piece of green cloth so that\nthe sunshine should not make the mouse\u2019s red eyes ache. While doing\nthis, she said all sorts of soothing words to it in a sweet, coaxing\nvoice. \u201cYou are well off, my little mouse,\u201d she told it. \u201cYou need not\ncreep into small, dark holes, where it must be dirty and cold, and\nwhere bugs and roaches live. Brrr!\u201d She shivered with fear at the bare\nthought. \u201cYou have a beautiful house; you are kept as warm and clean as\na princess; I give you dainties which you could not have unless you\nstole them at the risk of your life\u2014sweet grapes, raisins, nuts,\nmilk-bread, and bits of bacon. No cat can harm you. You need not be\nafraid of any trap. You are a real favorite of fortune among the mice.\u201d\n\nBut the mouse did not think so. It remained sulky, and showed no\ngratitude for its mistress\u2019s care and affection. When it thought no one\nwas looking, it played happily enough with the wheel or the cotton-wool\nin its nest, or combed and brushed itself with its handlike fore paws\nas carefully as a soldier before parade. But as soon as the little girl\nwent to its cage, it suddenly stopped its cleaning or its play, and\ncrept under the cotton-wool. When its mistress put her hand in the cage\nto take it out and pet it, the mouse darted into every corner of its\nhouse to escape the searching hand, and when it was caught, uttered a\nterrified squeaking, and struggled as violently as its feeble strength\nwould permit.\n\n\u201cFoolish thing,\u201d said the little girl, but she did not lose patience.\n\u201cYou will see in time how kindly I mean by you.\u201d\n\nWhether the mouse really did see this, is hard to say. Perhaps it only\nfound out that it was of no use to resist. It struggled less when its\nmistress touched it, and therefore seemed tamer. But it did not answer\nto the name of Snow-White which the little girl had given it, obeyed no\ncall, and pressed close against the back of the cage if any one looked\nthrough the grating of its house. In time it even lost its appetite, so\nthat it grew thin and miserable. At last it also gave up turning in its\nwheel, crouched sadly in one corner, and became so weak that it could\nscarcely drag itself about.\n\nThis grieved the little girl to the heart. She ran to her mother,\nsaying: \u201cOh, mamma, come and see what is the matter with Snow-White. It\ndoesn\u2019t eat, it doesn\u2019t play, and it is always cross. I can\u2019t cheer it\nup at all.\u201d\n\nHer mother smiled. \u201cWhat do you do to cheer it up?\u201d\n\n\u201cI stroke it, I talk to it, I even sing my prettiest songs, for which\nyou all kiss me. But Snow-White doesn\u2019t take any notice of them at all.\nThe little thing is certainly ill. We must give it something.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would do no good,\u201d her mother answered. \u201cI think your little\nmouse is tired because it is always alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it has me,\u201d cried the little girl.\n\n\u201cYou are not enough, apparently. It wants another mouse for company.\u201d\n\nThe eccentric uncle was told how matters stood, and he immediately\nbrought a second mouse, which was put into little Snow-White\u2019s house.\n\nSnow-White received the newcomer in the most generous way. It made a\nbroad, comfortable place for the stranger in the very middle of the\ncotton-wool nest, where it was softest and warmest, while mousie itself\nwas content with the narrowest edge; brought out the most delicious\ndainties; and after the guest was rested and refreshed, went through\nthe house, showing everything, even the wheel, on which it performed\nits tricks outside and inside; then, sitting down by the visitor, nosed\nand licked it, as dogs nurse their puppies. Snow-White seemed\ncompletely changed, no longer dull, but excited, moving about as\nswiftly and busily as a housekeeper who suddenly receives a welcome\nguest.\n\nThe little girl watched the pair happily, and, after a while, wanted to\njoin the two mice. As usual, she put her hand into the cage to catch\nthem. But the newcomer leaped out of the nest with one bound and sought\nshelter in the wheel, and Snow-White was extremely angry, squeaked\nfuriously, and snapped at the hand. If the little girl had not drawn it\nback quickly, the mouse would certainly have bitten her. At first the\nchild wanted to punish Snow-White. She had already seized her penholder\nto beat the little creature\u2019s white fur with it, but she controlled her\ntemper, let the animal run, and put down the stick which she had\nalready lifted for the first blow.\n\n\u201cGo, I\u2019ll do you no harm,\u201d she said. \u201cYou know no better. You are a\nnaughty, ungrateful thing, but that is probably only your stupidity, so\nI\u2019ll forgive you.\u201d\n\nShe had scarcely uttered these words in a very low tone, when she\nsuddenly saw a wonderfully beautiful woman with fair hair and blue\neyes, in a light blue dress, on which glittered a great number of\nsilver stars. She had no time to wonder how the lovely lady could have\ncome in unseen, for she said to her in a voice like sweet music: \u201cThat\nwas right, dear child. We must always be kind and indulgent to the\nweak. As a reward, you shall understand the language of the white\nmice.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose you are a fairy?\u201d asked the little girl, timidly.\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d replied the lovely lady, smiling. Then, bending down, she\nkissed the child gently on the forehead, and suddenly disappeared,\nthough the little girl did not see her pass through the door. The child\nthought she had been dreaming, but a delicious fragrance of roses,\nwhich remained in the room, proved that she was awake, and really had\ntalked with the fairy.\n\nShe turned quickly to the cage to find out whether she actually did\nunderstand the language of the mice. At first she heard nothing except\na very low humming, like the distant buzzing of flies, in which she\ncould catch no words. But when she listened longer and more intently,\nher ears became accustomed to the faint noise, and, yes\u2014after a few\nminutes she heard more and more distinctly two little voices talking to\neach other.\n\n\u201cMy poor, poor friend!\u201d said one voice.\n\n\u201cYou are right to pity me,\u201d replied the other. \u201cI have had a hard time,\nI can tell you; I\u2019ve led a life here which I would not wish my worst\nenemy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet the food and lodging seem to be very good,\u201d answered the first\nvoice.\n\n\u201cThere is no reason to complain of them,\u201d remarked the second, \u201cif one\ncould only enjoy one\u2019s life. But how is that possible, when one is\nconstantly tormented, and frightened, and abused?\u201d\n\nThe little girl listened intently. Who could have tortured and\nfrightened and abused Snow-White?\n\nThe delicate little voice went on: \u201cThere is a frightful monster here,\neven more terrible than a cat. Whenever this horrible creature comes\nnear my house, I think that my last hour has come. It is as big as a\nmountain. You can\u2019t even imagine it. It has paws in which we two, and\nthree or four sisters and cousins, would have plenty of room. Each toe\nis as long as I am from my nose to my tail. The claws are as wide and\nthick as the doors of a house. The monster grasps me with these huge\ntoes, so that I grow faint, and cannot help screaming with pain and\nterror. But what is the use of my moaning? The monster has no heart. It\nenjoys my suffering. It passes its huge paw down my back, and then I\nfeel as if a heavy wagon were rolling over me. I don\u2019t understand how a\nsingle bone in my body remains whole under this cruel torture. The\nmonster raises me to its head, which is misshapen,\u2014round, and perfectly\nflat in front, without a sign of a muzzle. It has no mustache, either,\nonly on the upper part of the skull a forest of thick yellow hair. Its\neyes are as big as my head. I really don\u2019t exaggerate. And when it has\nme close to these fierce, pitiless eyes, it opens a huge mouth, and\nutters such a terrible roar that I feel as if the world were going to\nruin. After this torture, the monster puts me back in my house again,\nbut then I am more dead than alive, as you may suppose, and it is a\nlong time before I can recover. In a little while, the bone-breaking,\nthe thundering roar, and the terrible staring with the enormous eyes\nbegin once more, and I spend my life, with aching limbs, remembering\nthe last attack, and trembling at the thought of the next one.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what does this monster want of you?\u201d asked the first voice. \u201cDoes\nit want to eat you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think so,\u201d answered the other, \u201cor it would have done it\nbefore now. It only wants to play with me. It takes a cruel pleasure in\ntormenting me, in killing me by slow torture.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sister, how you frighten me!\u201d said the first voice. \u201cMust this be\nmy fate, too?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d replied the other; \u201cbut, at any rate, I now have you,\nand you have me, and we can bear our misery more easily together.\u201d\n\nThe little girl wanted to hear no more. Deeply grieved, she ran to her\nmother, told her everything, complained of Snow-White\u2019s ingratitude,\nand exclaimed, \u201cIf I am a monster, if my fingers are like posts, and my\nvoice is a roar, I won\u2019t trouble myself about her any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat will be the best way,\u201d said her mother. \u201cContent yourself with\nfeeding the little creature. A mouse, even if it is a white one, cares\nnothing for your society and your love. A mouse is always a mouse, and\npeople can be happy only with their equals.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE PROUD DOLL\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little girl named Aennchen. She was very\npretty and good-natured, but a little spoiled, and therefore capricious\nand quick-tempered; for she was the only child of wealthy people, and\nher parents gave her her own way in everything. From the time Aennchen\nwas a year old, she had been loaded with presents of all kinds at every\nopportunity. First there were india-rubber animals, then little houses\nand gardens with green trees, then small pails, sieves, cake shapes,\nand shovels to work in the sand, then rocking-horses and big donkeys on\nwheels, and finally dolls, small and large, fair and dark, unbreakable\nwooden ones and very fragile china ones, simply and richly dressed. But\nthe one which was given to her by her aunt, on her fifth birthday, was\nmore beautiful than any she had ever had before.\n\nThis was a very aristocratic lady, almost as large as Aennchen herself,\nand dressed like a princess. She had a satin cloak, a silk gown with\nseveral flounces, gold buckles at her little waist, white leather\nshoes, embroidered underclothes, and a magnificent velvet and lace hat,\nwith an ostrich plume. A mother-of-pearl fan hung from her belt, and\nshe carried in her hand a dainty sunshade. She wore bracelets, a\nnecklace, and earrings, the only things which Aennchen did not like;\nfor her mother had told her that only savages bore holes in the ears,\nnose, and lips to hang jewels in them. The doll had long, silky light\nhair, which was waved, braided, and artistically arranged with hairpins\nand little tortoise-shell combs. When she was laid down, she instantly\nshut her big blue eyes, and fell asleep. When she was lifted up, she\nopened her eyes and was awake again at once. She could say Papa, Mamma,\nand many other things distinctly, but usually maintained a well-bred\nsilence, and spoke only when she was invited to do so by a pressure on\nher body. She did not come to Aennchen like a person who has nothing\nexcept what she carries on her back, but brought with her a magnificent\noutfit, a chest of clothes, a bureau full of under linen, a sideboard\nsupplied with china, glass, and metal dishes, and table damask. At\nfirst Aennchen felt really embarrassed when her new playmate was\nintroduced to her. She could not take her in her arms and carry her\nabout, she was too large and too heavy. She was told that she must not\nundress and dress her, lest she should spoil her beautiful clothes, and\nundressing and dressing her doll is the greatest pleasure a little girl\ntakes in it. Aennchen admired her, but she did not really love her, and\ndid not grow intimate enough with her to speak to her familiarly. When\nshe first became better acquainted with her, she discovered a very\nserious fault\u2014the new doll was extremely proud.\n\nAennchen had wanted to call her Minna. This was the name of her nurse,\nwhom her parents had kept in the house after the child outgrew milk,\nand to whom Aennchen was deeply attached. But the doll would not have\nthe name. She did not hear it. She did not turn her head, when Aennchen\ncalled her by it, but remained sitting as stiffly as if she was made of\nwood. And yet she had been manufactured of the finest, most pliable kid\nand china, and her limbs moved at every joint. This obstinacy provoked\nAennchen so much that she struck the doll. Then the latter said dryly:\n\u201cPardon me. People do not strike me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you don\u2019t want to be struck,\u201d replied Aennchen, angrily, \u201canswer\nwhen you are called by name.\u201d\n\n\u201cMinna is no name for me,\u201d replied the doll, coldly.\n\n\u201cWhat do you want to be called, then?\u201d asked Aennchen, bewildered.\n\n\u201cAt least Kunigunde,\u201d answered the haughty doll.\n\nAt first Aennchen was greatly inclined to box her ears, and say: \u201cA\nname that is good enough for my dear nurse is far too good for a\nstupid, puffed-up thing like you,\u201d but the doll\u2019s cool audacity awed\nher. She yielded, and the doll received the name of Kunigunde.\n\nAennchen had trouble with Kunigunde in another way. She had three\nfavorite dolls. They were small and easily handled, simply dressed, and\nvery dear to the little girl, because she had had them a long time, and\nbecause she was allowed to dress and undress them as much as she\nwished. Their clothes were no longer perfectly fresh, and showed here\nand there a ripped seam, a loose button, or even a rent, and their\nfaces and hands could not be considered exactly models of cleanliness,\nthough Aennchen, who was very fond of splashing in the water, often\nscrubbed them with soap, sponge, and brushes.\n\nShe wanted to make Kunigunde acquainted with these three older dolls,\nand invited her to a coffee party. She put Kunigunde\u2019s handsomest\ntable-cloth on the table, set out her beautiful dishes, and brought out\nthe three dolls. When Kunigunde saw the little shabby figures, she sat\nup as straight as a dart, and stared into vacancy with her big blue\neyes, taking no more notice of the three dolls than if they had been\nempty air. Aennchen put her three friends into little chairs, and was\ngoing to do the same for Kunigunde. But the latter refused to take the\nplace. \u201cI am not used to sitting at the same table with common people,\u201d\nshe said.\n\n\u201cMay I at least have the honor of drinking coffee in your lofty\nsociety?\u201d asked Aennchen, scornfully.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Kunigunde, condescendingly, pretending not to notice the\njeer.\n\nThis was too much for Aennchen. Seizing Kunigunde violently, she was\ngoing to press her by force into the chair. The conceited doll made\nherself perfectly rigid, and said in a defiant, rattling voice, \u201cYou\ncan break me, if you are strong enough, but you cannot compel me to sit\nat the same table with these people.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will not force our company upon the lady,\u201d said the three modest\ndolls, rising at the same moment.\n\n\u201cOh, nonsense,\u201d cried Aennchen, \u201cstay quietly here, children, we won\u2019t\ntrouble ourselves any further about this puffed-up creature.\u201d Grasping\nKunigunde by the arm, she threw her into the corner so hard that she\nbounced.\n\n\u201cI thank you for your courteous treatment,\u201d Kunigunde\u2019s voice was heard\nsaying, after she had recovered a little from the fall. \u201cI beg you not\nto feel under the slightest restraint, but to use my coffee set just as\nif it belonged to you.\u201d\n\nThis was strong, so strong that it almost took away the three modest\ndolls\u2019 breath. No doll had ever before ventured to speak to her\nmistress in such a way. Aennchen could not allow such lack of respect.\nShe hastened to Kunigunde, screaming: \u201cNow my patience is gone. Your\ncoffee set belongs to me, and you belong to me, and if you don\u2019t keep\nquiet at once, you\u2019ll fly out of the window. Then you can hunt in the\ngutter for society that is good enough for you.\u201d\n\nKunigunde now remained silent, but though she did not speak, she shut\nher eyes to show that she wished to have nothing to do with anything\nthat was going on around her. Aennchen did not take any notice of her\ndefiant sulking, left her lying in the corner, and entertained the\nthree modest dolls with coffee and cakes, which they enjoyed, while\nKunigunde received neither drop nor crumb.\n\nJust at that time Aennchen\u2019s foster sister, her old nurse\u2019s daughter,\nhad been very ill and was beginning to recover. While the sickness was\nserious, Aennchen had not been allowed to see her. Now, after several\nweeks, she was permitted to go into the sick room for the first time.\nThe two little girls threw their arms around each other\u2019s necks, and\nrejoiced that they could be together again.\n\nThe foster sister had heard, from her mother, that Aennchen had had a\nwonderful doll on her birthday, and she was very curious to see it.\nAennchen instantly ran to her room and, with some difficulty, dragged\nKunigunde to the bedside. At the sight of her, the foster sister\nuttered a little cry, exclaiming: \u201cOh, she really is too beautiful! I\nnever thought there were such lovely dolls.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you admire her so much?\u201d asked Aennchen.\n\n\u201cMore than I can tell,\u201d replied her foster sister, her eyes wandering\nfrom Kunigunde\u2019s velvet and lace hat to her satin cloak, and from her\nsilk gown to her necklace.\n\n\u201cWould you like to have her?\u201d Aennchen went on.\n\nThe foster sister did not dare to answer.\n\n\u201cSay whether you want her,\u201d Aennchen urged.\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d replied the child in the bed softly, \u201csurely you are not in\nearnest. She is too elegant for me. And your mother will not let you.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy mamma lets me do everything I ask her,\u201d cried Aennchen, and ran off\nas fast as she could go to her mother, to tell her that she wanted to\ngive Kunigunde to her foster sister for a present on her recovery.\n\nShe received permission and, highly delighted, returned to the little\ngirl to give her the beautiful doll for her very own.\n\n\u201cYou know,\u201d she said, \u201cshe can open and shut her eyes, and say Papa and\nMamma, and all sorts of other things.\u201d And she wanted to show her the\ndoll\u2019s skill. But Kunigunde kept her eyes obstinately shut, and did not\nutter a sound.\n\n\u201cHave you suddenly grown deaf and dumb?\u201d cried Aennchen, impatiently,\nafter she had vainly laid her down and sat her up again, shaken and\njerked her, squeezed and thumped her.\n\nKunigunde groaned under this rough treatment, and at last made up her\nmind to utter the words, \u201cI am not to be given to any servant\u2019s child.\u201d\n\nThis provoking answer made Aennchen furious. \u201cI\u2019ll teach you to insult\nmy foster sister,\u201d she cried, and threw the haughty doll on the floor\nwith all her strength. There was a rattling sound, the child in bed\nscreamed, Kunigunde squeaked, \u201cMamma!\u201d The worst had happened. The\ndoll\u2019s head was broken; small pieces, to which her beautiful fair hair\nstill clung, were lying on the floor, and the back of Kunigunde\u2019s head\nshowed a large, gaping hole.\n\nAennchen was obliged to tell her mother of the misfortune. Her mother\nwas very angry and scolded her little daughter for her quick temper. As\na punishment, she should have no dessert that evening. Aennchen cried,\nand was still more enraged against Kunigunde, on whose account she was\nnow punished. Her mother spoke of sending the severely wounded doll to\na doll surgeon for treatment, and having a new head put on. But\nAennchen would not hear of it. \u201cThrow her away,\u201d she said; \u201cI don\u2019t\nwant to see her any more.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be better so,\u201d muttered Kunigunde, who, though stunned, had\nheard everything. \u201cI have nothing to expect here except vulgar abuse.\u201d\n\nAennchen perceived that even the hole in her head had not yet taught\nKunigunde modesty. Instead of answering, she took her up, stripped off\nher ornaments, her hat, her rich garments, and her underclothes and,\nwhen the doll lay perfectly naked, she called her nurse and said,\n\u201cThrow this thing into the garbage can.\u201d\n\nThe nurse hesitated, but Aennchen stamped her feet and screamed, \u201cThrow\nher into the garbage can, I tell you.\u201d Then the nurse yielded to her\nfoster child\u2019s whim and carried the doll out of her sight.\n\nWhen Kunigunde again opened her eyes, which until then she had\nobstinately kept closed, she found herself in a corner of the kitchen,\nin the deep garbage can, among bones, refuse, and sweepings. This\nhumiliation gave her more pain than the hole in her head, and filled\nher with great bitterness. She was certain that sharp injustice, a\nterrible wrong, had been done her. She had been severely injured,\nrobbed of all her property, and thrown into the dirt. And why? Because\nshe would not give up her self-respect. \u201cVery well,\u201d she murmured, \u201cyou\ncan commit every violence and every crime upon me, for you are stronger\nthan I; but you have not yet been able to force me to associate with\npeople who are beneath me in rank.\u201d\n\nThe next morning, before the garbage wagon drove by, the rag-picker and\nhis wife came, as usual, to rummage in the can. \u201cLook here!\u201d he\nexclaimed, when he saw the big doll; \u201cshe is dirty and broken, it is\ntrue, but the dealer will give something for her.\u201d\n\nHis wife turned Kunigunde round, and then said: \u201cWhat we can get for\nher isn\u2019t worth talking about. We\u2019ll take the thing to our little one.\u201d\nThey did so. Kunigunde was quickly thrown into the sack which the woman\ncarried on her back, and taken to the rag-picker\u2019s hut. The bag, as\nusual, was emptied on the floor, and the little daughter peeped\ncuriously at the contents. Kunigunde, it is true, felt the deepest\naversion to the people who had picked her out of the garbage can, the\nhorribly dirty hut in which she found herself, and the ragged, greasy\nchild, to whom she was now to be given; yet in her conceit she imagined\nthat the little girl would be so astonished and delighted at the sight\nof her that she would not dare to come near her, and this thought\nflattered her. So she was deeply offended and humbled, when she was\nsoon forced to see that she made no impression on the rag-picker\u2019s\nchild at all. The little girl picked her up, turned her over and over,\nnoticed the hole in her head and the sweepings in the tangled hair\nwhich still remained, and only said contemptuously, \u201cI don\u2019t care,\u201d\nwhen her mother asked if she would like to have the doll.\n\nThe child owned one doll, which she had made herself, certainly a very\nodd one. It was a long cork from a claret bottle, which the little girl\nhad dressed in several pieces of cotton rags and scraps of newspaper,\ntied on with a bit of string. On the piece which appeared above the\npaper and the rags she had marked, with a lead pencil, two eyes, a\nnose, and a mouth. This little monster she loved and petted, talked\ntenderly to it, and pressed it to her heart. When she retired with\nKunigunde to a corner of the hut, she laid her on the floor, took out\nher own cork-stopper doll, kissed it, and said: \u201cLook at this long\nstring of a doll! How much prettier you are! I love you far, far\nbetter. I\u2019ll tell you what, I\u2019ll give her to you for a servant. She is\nbig and strong. She shall carry you out to walk, and do everything that\nyou order her.\u201d\n\nShe put Kunigunde down, and laid the little scarecrow in her arms. But\nnow it did not suit her that her darling\u2019s servant should be naked, and\nshe prepared to dress her. She searched for rags and paper, but all the\nscraps she found were far too small for the huge Kunigunde. After she\nhad worked in vain for a long time, she grew impatient and cried,\n\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to be done with the stupid thing.\u201d As she spoke, she\nstruck her so violently against the wall that she broke both of her\nlegs. The child stared at her a moment, then she said: \u201cNow she is\ndead. We will bury her.\u201d\n\nKunigunde thought that her last hour had come, and she was glad. \u201cI\nwould rather lie under the ground than to be the maid of a horrible\ncork-stopper,\u201d she said to herself. She closed her eyes, that she might\nnot see the dirt and wretchedness surrounding her, and sought\nconsolation for her terrible fate in the remembrance of her former\nbeauty, the wealth of which she had been robbed, and her aristocratic\norigin, which had really destined her to be the playmate of a princess.\n\nMeantime, the rag-picker\u2019s cruel child was preparing to dig a hole in a\nheap of rubbish behind the hut with the sharp edge of an old sardine\nbox. Her older brother found her busy at this work, and when, in reply\nto his question, he learned that she was making a grave for the\nill-treated doll, which lay with closed eyes and broken limbs, he said:\n\u201cYou can\u2019t dig so large a grave as this big creature needs. Come, we\u2019ll\nthrow the ugly wretch into the water.\u201d\n\nThey at once set off together for the bridge which crossed the river\nnear by. \u201cOne, two, three,\u201d cried the boy, and flung Kunigunde far over\nthe railing. The little girl looked after her, pressed her cork-stopper\ndoll to her heart, and said lovingly, \u201cI don\u2019t want any doll except\nyou.\u201d\n\nKunigunde had considered it a last happiness that she was not to be\nburied alive, but drowned, for this seemed to her a quicker and\npainless end. \u201cNow all will be over. These good-for-nothing human\nbeings were not worthy to possess so noble a creature as I,\u201d she\nthought, as she fell into the water and sank nearly to the bottom.\n\nBut all was not over. She did not drown, but was borne to the surface\nagain and floated gently down the stream. She opened her eyes and, in\nspite of the hole in her head, in spite of her broken limbs, in spite\nof her beggary, her courage revived. Then she suddenly felt sharp teeth\nseize her. A large water rat caught her by one foot and dragged her to\nits nest, which was on the shore, close beside the water. In it was a\nlitter of young rats, who wanted to play with the doll drifting in the\nriver. They all came out of the hole and swarmed around the doll which\ntheir mother had brought. The thought darted through Kunigunde\u2019s broken\nhead, \u201cI would not play with a servant\u2019s child, and now I must serve\nthese vermin for a toy!\u201d This thought gave her such anguish that she\ngrew unconscious and died.\n\nDeath came at the right time to spare her the worst suffering. The\nyoung rats wanted to drag her into their hole, the entrance was too\nsmall, and when the horrible animals had pulled her to and fro a long\ntime in vain, they grew angry and began to tear her to pieces with\ntheir teeth. They ate all the parts of her which were made of kid and\nfilled with bran, and the china portions found their last resting place\non the bottom of the river.\n\nThis was the sorrowful end of the proud Kunigunde. Aennchen\u2019s three\nmodest dolls, on the contrary, fared well with their friend. They\nstayed with her until Aennchen became a tall, beautiful young lady, and\nwhen she married and had a little girl herself, she gave her her three\nfaithful playmates, that they might afford the child as much pleasure\nas they had the mother.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRATEFUL SPARROWS\n\n\nOnce upon a time a little girl, who loved all animals and plants, lived\nin a house in town with a small garden in front of it. Her older\nbrother was a wild, mischievous lad, like most boys. He liked to catch\nflies and pull off their wings and legs, put pins through beetles, or\ntie yarn, wrapped with bits of paper, to their legs, and let them fly\naway with the burden. When his sister was there, she would not allow\nsuch naughty tricks. Although she was the smaller of the two, he was\nobliged to do what she wanted or she would not speak to him, and the\nboy could not stand that. She would not let any animal be hurt. Her\nbrother was not even permitted to tread upon the ugly, hairy\ncaterpillars, though they ate the leaves off her bushes and flowers. He\nhad to put them in a piece of paper and carry them into the street.\n\n\u201cBut they will die out there just the same,\u201d the brother said.\n\n\u201cWe need not take care of them,\u201d his sister answered; \u201ctheir parents\nmust do that, or they themselves. But we ought not to kill them.\u201d\n\nIn the front garden stood four trees, in whose branches many sparrows\nhad built their nests. They could not be called pleasant neighbors.\nThey soiled the fence along the street, and the door, and the ground\nunder the trees, so that the maid-servant had hard work to keep the\nentrance clean, and she scolded about the dirty sparrows, and often\nthreatened to beat down their nests with her broom stick. In the warm\nseason of the year, they woke very early, long before sunrise, and made\na deafening noise for an hour or more. There was such a hopping and\nfluttering, and flying to and fro, such greeting and quarrelling,\nchattering and scolding, that it seemed like a school of children at\nrecess. The father of the little girl and boy, who was a light sleeper,\nwas regularly roused by the noise made by the birds, and grew so angry\nover it that he talked of buying a rifle and killing all the sparrows\nwithout mercy. In the spring, when the grass and the flower-beds were\nsowed, they ate the seeds out of the earth, so that there was the\ngreatest trouble in protecting the seed by scarecrows and threads woven\naround short wooden pegs stuck into the ground. Everybody had some\ngrievance against the sparrows, and the poor birds had not a single\nfriend in the house except the little girl, who pleaded for them\nwhenever her father and the maid-servant wanted to vent their anger\nupon them.\n\nShe did not rest satisfied with defending the sparrows against the just\nindignation of the members of the household. She showed them other\nfavors. In the summer they fared well. Then they could find food\neverywhere. They only needed to fly out into the street, or a\nmarket-place, to fill their little stomachs with the nicest things. But\nthe winter was a hard time for them. Then they sometimes suffered such\nbitter want that they came to the windows and pecked on the panes with\ntheir beaks, begging piteously for a few crumbs. Ever since the little\ngirl had been large enough to understand what the birds wanted, when\nthey crowded around the windows in this way, she always fed them.\nDuring the cold season, she swept the snow off the window-sill and\nscattered bread crumbs and seeds, on holidays even bits of apple,\nraisins, and sugar, then she closed the windows and pressed her little\nnose against the panes, to see how her feathered guests liked the meal.\nIn time they grew used to thinking that the sill outside the little\ngirl\u2019s room was their ever ready table, and did not hesitate to remind\ntheir friend by pecking impatiently on the panes, if she delayed giving\nthem their breakfast.\n\nHer brother thought this was very saucy. \u201cThe impudent sparrows,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cto act as if we owed them something.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe do owe them something,\u201d answered the little sister, \u201cfor we are\nrich and they are poor; we are strong and they are weak; we are big and\nthey are little.\u201d\n\nHer brother was not to be convinced. \u201cThey are good for nothing,\u201d he\nmuttered.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s fun to watch their merry play,\u201d said his sister. \u201cBesides, who\ncan tell whether they may not be good for something?\u201d\n\nShe continued her kindness to her little prot\u00e9g\u00e9s. She put bread\ncrumbs, soaked in milk, into the beak of a young sparrow which had left\nthe nest rather too early and stayed crouching in a corner of the\nwindow-sill, because he could not fly away, and made a soft bed for him\nwith cotton-wool in a box, so that he would be comfortable until his\nmother came and took the half-fledged runaway home. Another time the\nhouse cat was watching on the wall under the window-sill, and, when the\nsparrows came to be fed, she made a great leap and caught one of the\nbirds by the wing. The others scattered with cries of fright, the\ncaptured sparrow peeped piteously in the cat\u2019s mouth, and thought its\nlast hour had come. But the little girl had seen the whole from the\nwindow, hastily seized a ruler which lay near, and gave the cat such a\nblow on the paw, that she had to open her mouth to mew with pain. The\nsparrow took advantage of it to fly away, and the cat, punished and\nashamed, could do nothing except steal off limping on one forefoot.\n\nA third time a naughty boy in the street was throwing stones at the\nbirds\u2019 nests in the trees behind the fence. The little girl ran down at\nonce, and reproached him for his bad behavior. But when he would not\nlisten to her, only mocked at her and went on throwing them, she\nscreamed so loudly for help that the maid-servant came out of the\nkitchen, and even a policeman from the street, and drove the naughty\nboy away.\n\nAs the little girl attended to the sparrows every day, watched them on\nthe window-sill, and listened while they chattered, jested, and\nquarrelled with one another, she gradually learned to understand their\nlanguage. This is not so difficult as people suppose, because the\nsparrows have only a few words, and they talk about very simple things,\nwhich most grown-up persons have forgotten, but which a child knows\nvery well. The little girl could listen for hours while one mother\nsparrow told tales about another, praised all her own children, made\nfun of the wise old sparrows, and talked of the dainties they had\nstolen from the fruit women in the market-place. She even tried to talk\nthe sparrow language herself, that she might share their conversation,\nand ask all sorts of things; but she could not make the high tones of\ntheir twittering and peeping, so she was obliged to be satisfied with\nlistening.\n\nOne day the whole family went to a fair, which was held in a meadow\noutside of the city. There were a great many booths and side-shows, and\nan enormous crowd of people, who pressed around the jugglers, clowns,\nand merry-go-rounds. A dealer in a strange, perhaps Oriental costume\nwas loudly offering lozenges for sale. They were beautifully colored\nand looked tempting enough, so the little girl begged for some, for she\nwas fond of sweets. Her mother did not want to buy them; she did not\nlike the dealer\u2019s crafty brown face. \u201cWho knows what the stuff is?\u201d she\nsaid. But the father answered, \u201cYou are over-anxious,\u201d and bought a\nlozenge for his little daughter, and one for his son, too, that he\nmight not be jealous.\n\nThe little girl was just putting the lozenge into her mouth, when a\nsparrow suddenly darted down upon her, straight at her hand, so that\nshe was startled and dropped the candy. The bird caught it skilfully in\nthe air, and flew away with it. The little girl looked after it with\nher mouth wide open, hardly knowing how it had been done. But her\nbrother laughed, saying: \u201cNow you see! That\u2019s the way with your dear\nsparrows. Shameless thieves and nothing else.\u201d But the little girl\nwould hear nothing against her prot\u00e9g\u00e9s, and declared it was her own\nfault\u2014she had awkwardly dropped the lozenge out of her hand. She asked\nfor another, but it was impossible to reach the dealer, the crowd was\nso great that they could not get through it. She looked ready to cry,\nand her brother good-naturedly offered her his own lozenge. She took\nit, but just as she was lifting it to her lips, a sparrow again darted\nat her hand and pecked her forefinger so hard with its beak that she\nuttered a cry of pain and opened her hand. The bird seized the lozenge\nand vanished with it before the little girl and her relatives had\nrecovered from their astonishment.\n\nThe father was expressing his surprise at the extraordinary boldness of\ncity sparrows, when suddenly there was a great shouting and running to\nand fro in the crowd. They asked what had happened, and, after some\ntime, learned that many children who had eaten the brown-skinned\ndealer\u2019s lozenges had been taken ill. The candy was colored with\npoisonous things, and those who had eaten it were writhing in pain and\nin danger of their lives. The crowd wanted to kill the rascally dealer,\nbut he took to flight. People pursued him with loud shouts, there was a\ngreat tumult, and the little girl\u2019s parents had the utmost trouble in\nescaping with their children from the confusion. They hurried on along\nthe road, to find a free space where there were no more booths and the\nthrong was less dense; but the little girl could not keep step with her\nfather; she had to run, and, stumbling over a stone, fell on the\nground. Her mother sprang forward to lift her up, when, behind the\nchild lying in the road and her parents, cries of terror were heard,\nand they saw a frightened horse come dashing toward them at full\ngallop. The next instant the foaming animal must have trampled upon the\ngroup. It seemed as if nothing could save them. At the last moment,\nwhen the hot breath of the frantic creature was already fanning the\nface of the terrified father, a sparrow flew suddenly straight at the\nhorse\u2019s right eye with so much force that the animal neighed loudly\nwith pain, reared high in the air, and made such a spring aside, that\nit lost its balance, rolled in the ditch, and was caught by the people\nwho came running up.\n\nThe little girl, in spite of her fright, had seen very well what the\nsparrow had done, and said, \u201cSo the sparrows are good for something.\u201d\nBut the others were so benumbed in every limb by fear that they did not\nanswer. All the pleasure of the fair had been destroyed by the\nexcitement, and they decided to go home. Unless they went a very long\nway round, they were obliged to return past the booths, and enter the\ncrowd. The little girl stopped an instant to look at a big picture of\nwild beasts, giraffes, and elephants, which hung in front of a show\nwhere animals were exhibited, and when she looked around, she\ndiscovered that she had been separated from her family by the throng.\nShe was very much frightened, and tried to run forward to overtake\nthem. But the crowd stood like a wall before her on every side, and she\ncould not pass. She pushed against the people among whom she was\nwedged, the rough men pushed back, and the little girl began to cry\nbitterly, partly because she was hurt, partly because it frightened her\nto be all alone, among so many strangers. Then a hand clasped hers and\ndrew her quickly and skilfully out of the throng in front of the animal\nshow, where she was penned. She looked up and saw through her tears an\nold dame with a brown face and rough gray hair, who resembled the\nrascally lozenge seller, and said in a harsh voice and foreign accent:\n\u201cCome, little one, come with me quick. Don\u2019t be afraid!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d asked the little girl, timidly, trying to stop.\n\n\u201cCome, come,\u201d repeated the old woman, who looked like a witch. \u201cAway\nfrom here. Out of the crowd. Then I will take you home. To your\nparents.\u201d\n\nWhen the little girl heard of her parents, she followed willingly. Yet\nit seemed to her that the old woman was not leading her toward the\ncity, but in the opposite direction.\n\n\u201cWe don\u2019t live there,\u201d she said, \u201cbut on the other side!\u201d\n\n\u201cI know, I know,\u201d replied the old woman. \u201cWe are going to my cart. It\u2019s\ntoo far for you to walk home.\u201d\n\nIn a few minutes they reached a cart, which stood by the side of the\nroad. It was a queer old vehicle, with a faded cover made of darned\nlinen, drawn by two little nags, which were so thin that their bones\nseemed to be coming through their skins. The little girl would not get\nin, so the brown witch seized her quickly round the waist, lifted her\nlike a light bundle, flung her into the cart, and jumped in after her.\nThe little girl called for help, but the cart was filled with men and\nwomen, and little half-naked brown children, who all began to scream\nlouder still, so that her voice was not heard at all. At the same time\nthe old witch urged up the half-starved horses, and the rattling cart\nrolled off in the midst of a cloud of dust with astonishing speed.\n\nThe little girl had fallen into the power of a band of gypsies, who\nwanted to carry her away. When she began to cry bitterly, the old witch\nsaid to her: \u201cKeep still. No harm will befall you. You will fare well\nwith us. You shall have nice things to eat, and a gown with gold\nspangles. You shall learn to dance and tell fortunes, and always have\nplenty of fun. So be quiet.\u201d\n\nThe little girl did not know what to do. Drawing back into the farthest\ncorner of the cart, she wept silently, thinking of her parents and her\nbrother, who were now searching for her so anxiously.\n\nThe gypsy band must have done a good business at the fair. Men and\nwomen were drinking from big bottles of wine, singing, laughing, and\ntalking in a strange language. They soon stopped in a wood, where they\nlighted a fire and prepared a camp for the night. They cooked in large\nkettles an ample meal, and wanted to give the little girl some of it,\ntoo; but, though she was very hungry, she refused with disgust.\n\nAfter the wild, brown vagabonds had finished their supper, they all lay\ndown to sleep, some around the fire, others under the cart, the women\nand children in it. The little girl was obliged to get in, too, and lie\nbeside the other children; but she kept awake, and when she saw that\nall were in a sound slumber, she rose softly, climbed down from the\ncart, slipped out of the circle of snoring gypsies, and began to run as\nfast as her little legs would carry her, until she was so far from the\ngypsy camp that she could no longer see the light of their camp-fire.\nThen she stopped for breath and found herself in the midst of a dark\nwood, where she did not know which way to turn. She dared not call out,\nso she sat down in the thick moss at the foot of a tall tree and began\nto cry piteously.\n\nSuddenly she heard a small voice at her side, twittering in the\nwell-known sparrow language: \u201cDon\u2019t cry, friend. Come. Follow me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d asked the little girl, also in the sparrow language,\nwhich she tried to speak as plainly as possible.\n\n\u201cOh, how stupid you human beings are!\u201d was the merry answer. \u201cDon\u2019t you\nknow me? I am your neighbor, and you feed me every day.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d cried the little girl, joyously, putting out her hand to her\nfeathered friend.\n\nBut the sparrow fluttered quickly away. \u201cDon\u2019t touch me,\u201d it chirped;\n\u201cwe don\u2019t like that. But now let us go home. I\u2019ll fly very slowly. Keep\nyour eyes on me.\u201d\n\nThe bird fluttered in front, just at the height of her head, and the\nlittle girl followed trustfully. There were a few stumbles and falls in\nthe darkness, a few bumps and bruises, but, after half an hour\u2019s walk,\nshe came out of the woods into the high-road, and then it was easy to\nmove forward. Near the city she met a policeman, who was very much\nastonished to find a little girl alone on the road so late at night,\nand questioned her. She told him the whole story, her name, and where\nshe lived, and the worthy man took her by the hand and led her home.\n\nHer parents, who had been searching for her in vain for hours, and\nnotified the police without finding any trace of their missing child,\nhad not gone to bed, and were sitting in despair around the table,\nvainly trying to comfort each other. When, long after midnight, the\npoliceman rang and brought back their little daughter, there was such\nrejoicing that the whole neighborhood was roused. The sparrow which had\nguided the girl back was perched on the window-sill, gazing through the\npanes into the room, flapping its wings and twittering at the joy of\nthe parents, who could not stop kissing their recovered child, although\nshe was very tired and only wanted to go to bed.\n\nThe father was very grateful to the sparrows for having saved his\nlittle daughter\u2019s life three times in one day. The next morning he made\na regular feast for them. On every window-sill in the whole house he\nspread cakes and raisins, fruit and honey, and the sparrows came and\nbanqueted, and invited their friends and relatives from far and near.\nThere was a great fluttering and chirping, twittering and screaming,\nbut nobody complained of it. And, from that time, food was always\nscattered for the house sparrows and strangers, too, and human beings\nand sparrows remained the best of friends to the end of their lives.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIX LITTLE GLOW-WORMS\n\n\nDuring the June nights the meadow at the edge of the forest was as\nmerry as a peasant wedding or a country fair. The nightingales sang,\nthe crickets chirped, the plover drummed, the night wind whistled, old\nMay and young June bugs lay in their taverns in the grass, the bushes,\nand the foliage of the trees, and drank dew till they were full, and\neven the sober ladybugs, which usually lead no gay lives, were\npersuaded to share the lively meetings of the idlers. As soon as it\ngrew dark, the six little glow-worms that lived in the meadow crept out\nof their tiny room in the earth and lighted their lanterns, so that the\nplace was brightly illuminated by their shining, bluish white light.\nSo, when the revellers broke up at as late an hour as possible, thanks\nto their living lamps, they found their way as easily and safely as if\nit had been noonday, without striking against roots and stones, or\nfalling into moleburrows. Then, standing in front of the glow-worms,\nthey cheered them with their hoarse throats, and sang this little\nverse:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cLittle worm, that kindly lights\n        The reveller\u2019s steps in the dark nights,\n        As to his home he gropes his way,\n        Our thanks we pay! Our thanks we pay!\u201d\n\n\nThe little glow-worms said nothing, only let their light shine softly.\nThey were indulgent to the harmless gayety of the revellers, and\nenjoyed the merry life which surrounded them during the short festival\nseason of the year.\n\nNot far from the meadow, where there were such gay doings, stood an old\ncastle with a lofty tower. Here lived an aristocratic owl family, with\na numerous colony of bats for servants. The mistress of the house, an\nowl of mature years, was a very learned lady, who had one son, whom she\nurged to study. But the young gentleman was an idler and sluggard, who\nwould rather wander about than learn. Whenever he could, he stole away\nfrom his books and slipped out of the tower, to rob nests, catch birds,\nor, with the young noblemen from the owl-eyries in the neighborhood,\njoin in hunting hares and marmots.\n\nThis troubled his mother greatly, and she remonstrated earnestly with\nhim.\n\n\u201cThe examination is close at hand, and you are not preparing yourself.\nDo you mean to disgrace me by failing?\u201d\n\nThe young owl obstinately remained silent and looked sulky.\n\n\u201cAnswer me, you unmannerly scapegrace!\u201d cried the owl, angrily. \u201cWhat\nam I to do with you? All your ancestors are lights of learning and\nmembers of the academy. You alone wish to remain an idle, ignorant\nblockhead. Are not you ashamed of yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt isn\u2019t my fault,\u201d replied the owl nobleman, defiantly.\n\n\u201cNot your fault?\u201d asked the owl in astonishment. \u201cWhose fault is it,\nthen?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Mamma,\u201d cried the youth, boldly, \u201cdo have some consideration.\nWhen am I really to study? During the day, as a member of a respectable\nowl family, I must sleep, and at night it is so dark in this confounded\nlumber room that I can\u2019t see a line. I\u2019m near-sighted already. If I\nmust strain my eyes over my books in this pitch-black darkness, I shall\nbe blind entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat nonsense are you talking?\u201d replied the owl, sternly. \u201cWe have\nlived here a hundred years and more, and no one ever complained of our\nhome before. They all found it comfortable. On moonlight nights, it is\nalmost too light and, when the moon doesn\u2019t shine, you have our roof\ncat, by whose eyes you can read easily.\u201d\n\nThe youth remained obstinate. \u201cPardon me, Mamma,\u201d he said defiantly.\n\u201cThere are so few clear moonlight nights that they don\u2019t count, and our\ncat\u2019s eyes may have been enough for our ancestors, but in our days of\nelectricity it is no light at all. Besides, we have so much more to\nlearn now than you did in old times. So either give me some decent\nlight, or don\u2019t complain if I cannot prepare for my examinations.\u201d\n\nAnd, without waiting for his mother\u2019s answer, the rude youth vanished\nthrough the tower window, to amuse himself with his companions in the\nusual way and let study alone.\n\nThe owl called the oldest of her bats, and said anxiously: \u201cThere is no\nliving with the young people any longer. Hasn\u2019t my good-for-nothing son\ntaken it into his head that it isn\u2019t light enough here, and therefore\nhe cannot study?\u201d\n\n\u201cFoolish talk, Mrs. Professor,\u201d squeaked the bat.\n\n\u201cI know that just as well as you do,\u201d answered the owl; \u201cbut I must not\nlet him have the excuse for his idling. What shall we do to get a\nbetter light for the lazy fellow?\u201d\n\n\u201cOur roof cat\u2014\u201d began the bat.\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t enough,\u201d interrupted the owl. \u201cBetween ourselves: it really is a\ndim light, and I wonder whether our eyes are not constantly growing\nworse because, up to this time, we have been satisfied with our cat\u2019s\nlight. We must find something else.\u201d\n\nThe bat reflected a little while, then she said: \u201cHow would it do to\ntry glow-worms, Mrs. Professor? They give a good, steady light, do not\nheat the head, and are not dangerous on account of fire.\u201d\n\n\u201cA clever idea,\u201d said the owl. \u201cBring some here as soon as possible.\u201d\n\nThe bat obediently flew away and hurried to the meadow on the edge of\nthe forest, where the spring festival was in full course. From all the\ntree-tops, bushes, and grasses echoed the notes of fiddles, the sound\nof flutes, and merry drinking songs; everywhere there was dancing,\nplaying, and dew drinking, and the little glow-worms, with quiet\npleasure, held the light for these gay doings. Without troubling\nherself in the least about the company, the owl\u2019s faithful servant\nseized one of the glow-worms with her teeth, and carried it in a swift\nflight to the tower, where she put it on a beam. It was trembling in\nevery limb with fright, and in its terror almost let its lantern go\nout.\n\nThe owl looked at the little creature closely, and said discontentedly,\n\u201cThis light, too, is not enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Mrs. Professor,\u201d replied the bat; \u201cit shone far more brightly in\nthe meadow outside. These glow-worms are queer creatures. Alone they\nare not good for much. There must be several of them together. Then the\nrascals want to outshine one another, each tries to do his best, and\nthe result is something very acceptable.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen get several,\u201d ordered the owl.\n\nThe bat called her relatives, they went to the meadow together and\nbrought away the other five glow-worms. When all six sat side by side\non the beam in the tower, they were so glad that no harm had happened\nto them, and that they were together again, that they quickly forgot\ntheir fright, and let their lanterns shine with full brilliancy. The\nwalls of the tower chamber glittered and sparkled as if they were hung\nwith silver cloth and adorned for a royal festival. It was a very\nbeautiful sight, which pleased even the bat, though usually she cared\nlittle for wealth and magnificence.\n\n\u201cWonderfully pretty,\u201d she said; \u201cbut too dazzling. I could not bear it\nlong.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor I, either,\u201d answered the owl, sighing. \u201cBut what can we do? The\nyoung folks will have it so.\u201d\n\nThe six little glow-worms shone conscientiously until the approach of\ndawn, then they turned off their light, crept close to one another on\nthe beam, fell asleep, tired out, and dreamed of the merry fair, from\nwhich they had been stolen to serve in the owl tower.\n\nWhen the first flush of dawn was appearing in the sky, the young owl\nreturned, laid a hare at his mother\u2019s feet, and wished her a pleasant\nsleep.\n\n\u201cVery well, you idler,\u201d she muttered before she went to her bed. \u201cYou\nshall have a surprise to-night.\u201d\n\nIn fact, when darkness came, the owl went to the lie-a-bed and shouted\ninto his ear: \u201cGet up, you sluggard. Up with you quick, and go to\nwork!\u201d\n\nThe young owl opened his eyes, but instantly shut them again to escape\nthe glare which met him. The six little glow-worms had lighted their\nlanterns, and were shining as brightly as they could.\n\n\u201cNow you can no longer tell me that you cannot see plainly enough,\u201d the\nowl went on. \u201cI have given you a light which will make your eyes water.\nNow bring your books, and study steadily.\u201d\n\nThe young owl was obliged to get up, whether he liked it or not. He\nmade his toilet, ate something, and sat down with his books. But he had\nno love for study, and only waited until his mother, accompanied by two\nyoung bats, flew away to attend to some business. Then he went quickly\nto the little glow-worms, and said in a subdued voice, yet very\nimpressively: \u201cYou vagabond lantern-bearers, what do you want here? Who\nsent for you? If you don\u2019t put out your worthless eye-spoilers, I\u2019ll\nbreak your bones for you.\u201d\n\nThe little glow-worms were terribly frightened, and lowered their light\nalmost entirely, so that it only glimmered very faintly. But the bat,\nwho, in her corner, had seen and heard all this, shot out, hissing:\n\u201cJust wait, sir, I will tell your mother about this. And you glow-worms\nwill turn up your light again at once, or you\u2019ll have to deal with me.\u201d\n\nThe little glow-worms did not know what to do. The young owl threatened\ntheir lives if they shone, and the bat if they put their light out. But\nthey understood that the young owl had more authority here than the\nbat, and the bravest of them summoned courage to say to him, as he\nstood before them with angry eyes and ruffled feathers: \u201cMy young lord,\nwe should be very glad to obey you, if we only could. We did not come\nhere voluntarily. Your servants dragged us by force from our home and\nfamily. We would like nothing better than to return to our own people.\nBut how are we to get out of this terrible high tower, and reach the\nearth? We can never do it alone. Help us, my young lord, and we will be\ngrateful to you all our lives.\u201d\n\nThe young owl was a rough fellow, yet he had a kind heart. He pitied\nthe frightened glow-worms, and did not want to throw them out of the\ntower window. Besides, he was afraid of his mother, who would certainly\nask where they were.\n\nHe drove the old bat rudely back into her corner, and said softly to\nthe trembling little glow-worms: \u201cNow pay attention to me. When my\nmother comes home, summon up your courage and declare a strike. My\nmamma is a little severe in her language, but she will do you no harm.\nShe doesn\u2019t eat things like you. I hope she will drive you away, and\nthen I will carry you home.\u201d\n\nThings happened just as the sly fellow had planned. When the owl came\nback, she found the room perfectly dark, and the six little glow-worms\nwere visible only as faint, bluish sparks.\n\n\u201cWhat does this mean?\u201d shrieked the owl, angrily. The bat was rushing\nout of her corner, but the young owl flow to her side and whispered\nfiercely, \u201cHold your tongue, or it will cost you your life!\u201d then,\nhurrying back to the glow-worms, he hissed: \u201cGo on now! Be brave!\u201d\n\nThe glow-worm which had spoken before again began, \u201cPardon us,\nBaroness, we cannot shine.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not, you lazy rabble?\u201d cried the owl, fiercely.\n\n\u201cBecause we get nothing to eat and drink,\u201d replied the glow-worm,\nboldly.\n\n\u201cH\u2019m,\u201d said the owl rather perplexed. She had not thought of that\nbefore, and could not deny that the glow-worm was right. \u201cWhat do you\nwant?\u201d\n\n\u201cFour meals a day, at each meal twelve fat plant-lice and a pint of\nfresh dew. That is what we are used to. Then a soft moss bed with thyme\nin the pillows, and permission to go out twice a week\u2014or we can do\nnothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be choked first, you gluttons,\u201d cried the owl, in the\ngreatest rage. \u201cHere, Bat, break these blockheads\u2019 necks! Eat them\nall.\u201d\n\n\u201cOut with your lights!\u201d whispered the young owl to them quickly, while\nthe bat was flying as fast as possible to obey her mistress\u2019s orders.\n\nThe little glow-worms instantly put out their lanterns, and were now\nperfectly invisible in the dark room, so that even a sharper-sighted\ncreature than the half-blind bat could not have found them.\n\n\u201cQuick! Sit on my claws, each on one toe,\u201d said the young owl, very\nsoftly. They crawled and crept, as fast as they could, upon the owl\u2019s\nfeet, which he had placed on the beam, and when he felt that they were\nall clinging fast with their little thin, weak legs, he sailed\nnoiselessly out of the tower window.\n\nOutside in the open air, when they knew that they were out of danger,\nall the glow-worms lighted their lanterns and shone with all their\npower, so that the young owl, in his flight, looked like a wonderful\nshining constellation. On reaching the meadow at the edge of the\nforest, the rough fellow shook his travelling companions from his claws\nwith a sudden movement, because it was disagreeable to him to feel\ntheir little thin legs on his toes, and went off without any word of\nfarewell.\n\nThe glow-worms fell to the ground from a considerable distance, and\nwere somewhat bruised. But the pleasure of being again at home with\ntheir relatives was greater than the pain. They were greeted with\nuniversal rejoicing, for it had been very dull on the meadow since the\nbats had carried away their living lanterns. The night festival had\nbeen interrupted, all the revellers wanted to hurry home and, in doing\nso, some had fallen into pools and were drowned, others had stumbled\nover roots and stones, and broken their legs or even their necks, and\ncries of pain and groans had followed the merry songs. When the\nrevellers now had their usual light once more, the fiddles and flutes\nsounded gayly, old and young May and June beetles, crickets, and\ngrasshoppers, and even the sober ladybugs, danced around the six little\nglow-worms, singing joyously:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cHow we have missed your shining spark,\n        When, wand\u2019ring through the nights so dark,\n        We\u2019ve broken limbs on paths astray,\n        And drowned in pools beside the way,\n        But now we have you here once more\u2014\n       \u2018Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!\u2019 we roar!\u201d\n\n\nAfter this trial the owl gave up her effort to make her son a learned\nman. She let him become a hunter, and in this career, for which he had\ninclination and talent, he advanced so far that his mother, after all,\nwas satisfied with him.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE DWARF\u2019S SPECTACLES\n\n\nMichel was a good lad. He was the only son of a widow, who, after her\nhusband\u2019s early death, was left alone with him and two little girls. By\ngreat sacrifices she had brought up her three children, kept them warm\nand clean, sent them to school, and educated them. Michel, from his\ntenth year, had faithfully helped her. At first he had picked up dung\non the highway and caught cockchafers, for which the parish paid him a\nfew pennies a quart. Then he had tended sheep and helped to gather the\nfruit at harvest time. When he was sixteen, he went into a farmer\u2019s\nservice, and from that hour, he not only supported himself but also\naided his mother and sisters. Several years after, both the girls\nmarried, one the village carpenter, the other the schoolmaster; for, in\nspite of their poverty, they were known and respected by all the\nvillagers for their modesty, their beauty, and their clever brains.\n\nOne Sunday, soon after his younger sister\u2019s marriage, Michel went to\nhis mother and said: \u201cMother, I am twenty-one years old, tall and\nstrong, and skilful in all farm work. Without praising myself, there is\nnot a farm hand for ten miles around who can make a straighter furrow\nor build so good a hay-rick as I, to say nothing of mowing, threshing,\nand cattle tending.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know that, my boy,\u201d replied the widow, somewhat surprised by this\nspeech; \u201cbut why do you tell me this?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I have determined to see a little of the world. I want to go\non my travels.\u201d\n\n\u201cStay in the country and support yourself honestly,\u201d warned the mother.\n\n\u201cI can accomplish nothing here,\u201d Michel answered. \u201cIn foreign countries\nI shall learn all sorts of things, save something, and if I have good\nluck, in time I shall rule as owner on my own farm.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would be fine, surely,\u201d murmured the mother; \u201cbut it is not\neasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing in this world is easy, at least for people like us,\u201d said\nMichel; \u201cbut I can try hard things, too; I have the bones for it.\u201d\n\nThe mother could not help admitting that he was right, though it was\nhard for her to part from her good son. In order not to be alone, she\nmoved into the house of her daughter, the carpenter\u2019s wife, and Michel\npromised always to send her money, whenever he had any to spare. His\nmaster, the farmer, gave him three gold coins, his brother-in-law, the\nschoolmaster, a knapsack and a hymn-book, his brother-in-law, the\ncarpenter, a stout knotted stick, and his mother her blessing, to take\nwith him on his way. Thus equipped, after a touching leave-taking with\nhis family, he left his village one sunny autumn morning and set forth\ninto the wide world. After some time a fellow joined him on the highway\nand, when they had exchanged greetings, asked: \u201cWhere did you come\nfrom, and where are you going? To what country do you belong? What is\nyour trade, and what is your name?\u201d\n\nMichel answered frankly, only he could not say where he should go. He\nwould follow his nose, he thought, and it would lead him somewhere. The\nfellow laughed and replied: \u201cJoin me, then. I am a better guide than\nyour nose. I am a printer, have wandered over the world, and know\nsomething about nearly everything. That comes from education, my dear\nfellow. One learns more behind the compositor\u2019s case than behind the\nox-plough.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll due respect to your education,\u201d said Michel, raising his eyebrows,\n\u201cbut I\u2019m content with the plough. It can always stand beside your case\nwithout shame.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right, Brother,\u201d replied the printer; \u201cthe man who will have\nnothing said against his trade is a fine fellow. Have you been in the\ncity yet?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Michel.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s fine,\u201d cried the printer, \u201cI\u2019m at home in the city and will\nshow you everything. You are lucky to have fallen in with me. For in\ntown one must open one\u2019s eyes and keep a sharp watch, unless one wants\nto be cheated at every corner. Tell me, Brother, have you any money?\nFor in the city you must pay well. There it\u2019s nothing for nothing.\u201d\n\nMichel unsuspiciously took his three gold coins from his pocket and\nshowed them to the printer. The other hastily pulled out a few silver\npieces and dirty scraps of paper, held them before Michel\u2019s face a\nmoment, and said, \u201cThis is my money; as you see, I am richer than you.\u201d\nThe truth was that Michel had seen nothing distinctly, for he had no\nskill in counting money. \u201cGive me your yellow boys,\u201d the printer went\non; \u201cwe will put our cash together and make one purse. Then you\u2019ll be\nsure that none of the city thieves will rob you.\u201d\n\nThis suited Michel. He gave his three gold coins to the printer and the\ntwo walked on, talking merrily, until they reached the city. Going into\na tavern, they drank what was good and dear. In the afternoon, the\nprinter showed Michel the sights of the city, and in the evening they\nhad a fine meal of beer and sausage. When it grew late, the printer\nsaid: \u201cNow we\u2019ll stop work. I will take a separate room. You, I\nsuppose, are an early riser. I like to stay a long time in bed, if I am\nnot obliged to get up. You would wake me, if we slept in the same room.\nSo, good night, Brother Michel.\u201d\n\nThe next morning, according to his habit, Michel rose with the cocks,\nwent to the coffee room, and said to the tavern-keeper, who was also\nthere, \u201cI suppose my companion is still in bed?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, no,\u201d replied the host, \u201che is earlier than you. He started half\nan hour ago, and left his regards for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d cried Michel, startled. \u201cHe has gone?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, indeed, bag and baggage!\u201d answered the tavern-keeper.\n\n\u201cBut my money?\u201d shrieked Michel, turning pale.\n\nThe tavern-keeper knew nothing about it.\n\nMichel told him how he had given his gold to the printer, and the\ninnkeeper grew almost angry at his story. \u201cWhat a simpleton you are!\u201d\nhe exclaimed, \u201cit serves you just right; you are more stupid than a\nnew-born calf. You have paid your apprentice money. At least let it be\na warning to you for the future. But you can\u2019t stay here, if you have\nno money. I give nothing on credit.\u201d\n\nMichel was obliged to pack his knapsack, and leave the inn and the city\nwith an empty stomach.\n\nAs he wandered sorrowfully along the highway, he saw at some distance a\npear tree, full of ripe fruit, at whose foot a man sat on the ground,\nwith his back resting against the trunk, smacking his lips over the\njuicy pears, a whole heap of which he had piled beside him.\n\nThis man was an ill-looking fellow. He was barefooted, very ragged,\nuncombed, and unwashed. But Michel\u2019s stomach was complaining, his mouth\nwatered, and he involuntarily stopped in front of him.\n\n\u201cWill you join me?\u201d asked the barefooted fellow, grinning.\n\n\u201cGladly, for I have had nothing to eat to-day,\u201d replied Michel, taking\nseveral pears.\n\n\u201cWhere are you from, and what are you doing?\u201d asked the shabby fellow.\n\nMichel told him frankly his unfortunate adventure with the printer, who\nhad basely robbed him, and complained that he did not know how he was\nto get on without money.\n\nThe tramp had pricked up his ears at Michel\u2019s story, and eyed him\nsharply with a side glance. \u201cMoney lost is nothing lost,\u201d he said, when\nthe other had finished. \u201cIt happens so that we two can now become\nequally rich. Do you see the poplar tree yonder?\u201d He pointed to a very\ntall tree, which grew a few steps farther down the road.\n\n\u201cCertainly! What of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you see the magpie\u2019s nest in the highest boughs?\u201d\n\nMichel searched for a while with his eyes, and said, \u201cYes, I see that,\ntoo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, the magpie has stolen a large gold chain, set with\ndiamonds, somewhere. I saw her just now as she carried the jewel to her\nnest. It is lying there still. I wanted to climb up at once and take it\naway; but I have rheumatism in all my bones from sleeping on the ground\nso many nights, and I can\u2019t manage climbing. But it will be child\u2019s\nplay for you. So up with you at once, and fetch the treasure out of the\nnest.\u201d\n\n\u201cChild\u2019s play\u2014that\u2019s saying a great deal,\u201d muttered Michel, measuring\nwith his eye the height of the tree. \u201cAnd besides, the chain doesn\u2019t\nbelong to us. We must give it back to the owner.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d cried the tramp. \u201cDo I look like a thief? But, at any\nrate, we can demand the reward, and that is something.\u201d\n\nMichel hesitated no longer. He took off his knapsack, rested his stick\nagainst the pear tree, and was beginning to climb the poplar.\n\n\u201cHold on,\u201d said the tramp, \u201cthat won\u2019t do. You must take off your coat\nand boots, too, or you\u2019ll never get to the top.\u201d\n\nMichel knew that this was true. He pulled off his handsome new boots,\nremoved his nice cloth coat, folded them neatly according to his\ncustom, laid both beside his knapsack, and said: \u201cTake good care of\nthem for me. I have nothing else in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cDepend upon it, Brother, depend upon it,\u201d cried the barefooted tramp,\nrubbing his dirty hands together with a grin.\n\nMichel began to climb the tall poplar. He was strong and skilful, but\nit was a hard piece of work. At last, however, he reached the nest, and\npeered in with the greatest curiosity. There were four half-fledged\nmagpies, which made a great outcry, flapped their wings violently, and\npecked his hand with their yellow beaks, as he felt for the necklace,\nbut there was no sign of a gold chain. He found a safe seat in a forked\nbranch, and called down: \u201cHolloa\u2014you must have dreamed about a gold\nchain; there\u2019s nothing here but downy feathers\u2014no necklace.\u201d\n\nAs he received no answer, he parted the branches and looked down. To\nhis horror, he saw that the tramp had disappeared, and with him his\nknapsack, staff, boots, and coat. Gazing into the distance, he\ndiscovered him with all the stolen clothes on running along the road\nfar away. \u201cStop thief!\u201d shouted Michel at the top of his lungs,\nslipping and jumping down the tree so fast that he ran the risk of\nbreaking his neck. But no living soul was in sight, no one heard his\ncalls for help, no one stopped the flying thief, and it was useless to\nfollow him, for he had a long start, and a bend in the road soon hid\nhim from Michel\u2019s sight.\n\nThere stood poor Michel, now barefoot and in his shirt sleeves, with\nnothing left, not even the cane and hymn-book which his brother-in-law\nhad given him, or the underclothes which his mother had packed in the\nknapsack. He did not know what to do. Should he go on, or simply turn\nback and again enter the service of his master, the farmer? But he was\ntoo much ashamed to go home in such a plight, after just starting out\ninto the world with such proud hopes, so he determined to try to get\nwork as he was.\n\nHe walked sadly on until he came to a broad and tolerably swift stream,\nacross which was a ford. When he went down the bank and was preparing\nto roll up his trousers and step into the water, he suddenly heard loud\nweeping, as if from a child. He looked around in surprise, but saw\nnothing. Yet the crying did not stop, and Michel had too kind a heart\nnot to wish to find the cause of the trouble. He followed the sounds,\nwhich seemed to come from a thick clump of willows, and after some\nsearching, discovered a queer little man, with a gray beard, who was\ntrying to hide from him in the moss. Taking up the tiny creature\ncarefully, that he might not hurt him, he said kindly: \u201cDon\u2019t be\nafraid, I will do you no harm. What is the matter, that you are\ngrieving so? Tell me whether I can help you?\u201d\n\nThe little man hastily took from a case which hung on his back a pair\nof horn spectacles, with round blue glasses, as big as he was himself,\nheld them before his eyes, for he could not put them on because his\nnose was far too small, and gazed intently at Michel. The examination\nseemed to satisfy him. He folded up the spectacles, put them carefully\nback in the case again, and said in a weak little voice: \u201cI must cross\nthe river, and I can\u2019t, for it is too deep.\u201d\n\nMichel\u2019s curiosity was roused, and he asked, \u201cWhat have you to seek on\nthe other side?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be too long a story to tell you,\u201d replied the little man. \u201cIn\na few words, I can give only this: I belong to a race of dwarfs, which,\nuntil now, lived in this neighborhood. But men have grown too wicked,\nand we cannot stay here any longer. My people have gone and taken their\nboats with them. I was delayed because I wanted to help a poor woman,\nwho has been kind to me, in gathering some healing herbs. They have\nleft me behind all alone, and now I don\u2019t know what will become of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d said Michel, \u201cthat your dwarf brothers are at least\nas wicked as men, since they did not trouble themselves about you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is my own fault,\u201d wailed the dwarf; \u201ca whole nation cannot wait for\none person.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I carry you across the water?\u201d asked Michel.\n\n\u201cAh, if you only would do it! Then I should be saved, for on the other\nshore I could overtake my people.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome then, little fellow,\u201d said Michel, rolled up his trousers above\nhis knees, took the dwarf in his hand, and waded carefully through the\nroaring river. When he had reached the opposite bank, he asked the\nlittle man: \u201cShall I carry you farther? You are not heavy.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the dwarf, hastily, \u201cjust put me on the ground, I can\nfind my way alone now.\u201d\n\nMichel obeyed the dwarf\u2019s wish. The little fellow took from his back\nthe case with the spectacles, laid it in Michel\u2019s hand, and said: \u201cI\nwant to show you my gratitude. We dwarfs have no money. But I will give\nyou these spectacles. When you put them on, you can read the thoughts\nof men in their heads. You already know how useful that is.\u201d\n\nMichel hesitated to accept the gift. \u201cYou will need them yourself,\u201d he\nsaid.\n\n\u201cTake them, take them,\u201d replied the dwarf, \u201cwe are going to a distant\ncountry, where we shall live among ourselves. We dwarfs say what we\nthink, and think what we say. There we shall no longer need the\nspectacles for reading thoughts. I thank you. Farewell.\u201d\n\nBefore Michel knew it, the dwarf had vanished, and Michel, who would\ngladly have talked with him a little longer, searched for him in vain.\nSo he put the blue spectacles into his pocket, and continued his way in\na very sorrowful mood. After walking some time, he came to a field of\nturnips separated from the road by a fence. Before this fence several\nmen, who looked like field laborers, were standing, and behind it a\nstout man, with the perspiration streaming down his face, was digging\nup the turnips. The workmen appeared to be laughing at the fat fellow,\nand the fat fellow was toiling as if he wanted to vent his rage on the\nearth and the turnips. Michel, curious to see what was going on,\nstopped, and the fat man called: \u201cHolloa! do you want to earn a penny\ninstead of staring at these gaping idlers? Then come. There is work\nenough here for every man.\u201d\n\nMichel noticed that the laborers looked at him angrily, and he thought,\n\u201csomething is wrong here.\u201d It occurred to him that this was a good\nchance to try the dwarf\u2019s spectacles, and he put them on his nose. The\nglasses were scarcely before his eyes when the heads of the people\nappeared to become as transparent as crystal, and he could read their\nthoughts as plainly as in a book of clear, large type.\n\nIn the fat man\u2019s head he read: \u201cYou seem to be a strong fellow, and\nvery poor; come, work for me, I will pay you as little as possible, and\nthis gang, which refuses to work for my wages, and leaves me in the\nlurch in the middle of the harvest, will pull long faces. The rascals\nwill probably break your bones because you are spoiling their game, but\nthat\u2019s your affair, not mine.\u201d\n\nMichel was troubled and turned to the laborers, who were closing round\nhim threateningly. There he read: \u201cWhat! Does a tramp like you mean to\nwork cheaper here, and serve the rich skinflint for a song? We had\nbrought him to a point where he would be obliged to add a little, and\nnow you cross our plans, and help the rich extortioner against us.\nMay\u2014\u201d\n\nMichel knew enough. \u201cIf there is plenty of work here for everybody,\u201d he\nsaid to the fat man, \u201cthen these people have more right to it than I.\u201d\nWith these words he turned to go.\n\n\u201cIdler!\u201d shouted the fat man, furiously.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d Michel answered, \u201cyou want to rob me of my day\u2019s work, and yet\ncall me an idler? For shame, you penny-squeezer!\u201d\n\nThe laborers burst into a loud laugh, and one held out his hand to him:\n\u201cClasp hands, you are a good fellow. Come and drink a glass of beer\nwith us.\u201d\n\n\u201cWillingly,\u201d replied Michel, and they all left the fat man standing in\nhis turnip field, and went on together until they came to an inn by the\nroadside, which they entered. On the way they told him that they were\nengaged in a struggle about wages with the fat man, who was the richest\nlandowner in the neighborhood, and Michel answered that he needed the\nday\u2019s wages greatly, but he would not take the bread out of their\nmouths. They now made him tell them how it happened that he was\nwandering about the world barefoot, and in his shirt sleeves, and\npitied him for having been twice outwitted by rascals. So they offered\nto get him a coat and boots on credit, and obtain work in the\nneighborhood. Michel was greatly delighted over it, the more so, as he\nsaw through his blue spectacles that their thoughts were sincere, and\nthey meant honestly by him.\n\nIn the tavern the laborers ordered food and drink to be set before\nMichel, and clothed him out of the landlord\u2019s chests and trunks, so\nthat he no longer looked like a tramp. When he was fitted out and had\neaten, he glanced around the room. In one corner he saw at a table\nthree fellows, who sat there silently, pledging each other from time to\ntime in large glasses of brandy. One had squint eyes, the second a nose\ntwisted completely on one side, the third was disfigured by a hare-lip.\nThey looked so evil, that Michel was horrified, and quickly seized the\ndwarf\u2019s spectacles. He was curious to learn what kind of thoughts\nlurked behind such ugly faces. What he read in their heads made him\nshudder. They were all three thinking of nothing except that that night\nthey would break into an old castle near the inn, murder the old\ncountess, her young daughter, and two maid-servants, who were living\nthere alone, while the old count was in attendance at court, and steal\nall their gold and silver. Behind these thoughts, which he saw with\nterrible distinctness, he read others a little less clearly. The\nsquint-eyed man was imagining how he would stab the women with his\ndagger, while they knelt before him begging for mercy. The\ncrooked-nosed man fancied he had a pile of gold, into which he was\nplunging his blood-stained hands. The hare-lipped man meant to attack\nhis two comrades in their sleep, after the crime had been committed,\nkill them, and rob them of their share of the booty.\n\nMichel asked himself in horror what he could do to prevent the crime\nand deliver the wicked fellows to punishment. Tell the laborers what he\nread in the heads of the three monsters? They would not believe him and\nperhaps think he was crazy. Go to the police and denounce the\nscoundrels? But how could he prove what they meant to do? If they\ndenied it, he would stand there like a simpleton, and the police would\nperhaps take him for a rascal who wanted to fool them. After thinking\nover the matter for a long time, it seemed to him that he could do\nnothing except deal with the three rogues all alone.\n\nHe agreed to meet the laborers the next morning, at the same inn, to go\nwith them to a place to work, took leave of them, and hurried off in\nthe direction that he supposed the castle stood. After questioning all\nthe shepherds and market women he met on the way, he at last reached a\nthick forest, and there, in a clearing, was the old castle with its\nsolid walls and small windows.\n\nHe knocked at the heavy oak door until it slowly opened a little, and\nin the crack appeared an aged maid-servant, who asked what he wanted.\nHe begged to see the countess, for whom he had an important message.\n\nHe was kept waiting a long while outside the door, but at last the maid\ncame back and sulkily invited him to follow her. Michel went behind her\nto a little tower room, where the old countess received him. Beside her\nsat her daughter, a young girl, as beautiful as an angel, whose blue\neyes were as friendly as the bright day. Michel felt his heart grow as\nwarm as if sunbeams had entered it, and he could not make up his mind\nto frighten this lovely creature by his story. He told the countess\nthat he must speak to her alone, and, after a little hesitation, she\nsent her daughter and the servant out and ordered Michel to deliver his\nmessage at once.\n\n\u201cYour ladyship,\u201d he said, \u201cthree murderers intend to attack your castle\nto-night, kill you all, and steal your treasures.\u201d Seeing her turn\npale, he added quickly: \u201cHave no fear, I will remain to defend you and,\nso long as I have a drop of blood in my body, no one shall harm a hair\nof your heads.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne against three\u2014\u201d sighed the countess, anxiously.\n\n\u201cI would fight with five, if I only had weapons.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no lack of arms here,\u201d said the countess. \u201cBut would it not\nbe wiser for us to fly to the city at once?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe road is long, it is almost dark, and the forest is not safe,\u201d\nreplied Michel. \u201cBesides, your flight would not prevent the robbery of\nthe castle.\u201d\n\nThe countess saw this. She was naturally a brave woman, and Michel\u2019s\npresence somewhat soothed her. She gave him from her husband\u2019s weapons\na gun, two pistols, and a dagger, ordered a dainty supper to be served\nfor him, sent her daughter and the two maids to bed early, and then\nkept watch with him in the castle hall. No persuasion from Michel could\ninduce her to go into her tower and protect herself behind locks and\nbolts. \u201cIf I am warned, I can defend myself,\u201d she said firmly, and so\nit was settled. Just before midnight the countess and Michel, who were\nlistening behind the oak door, heard soft, stealing steps approaching\nand whispering voices consulting about the best way of breaking into\nthe castle. Various plans were refused, and at last they agreed that\nthe most nimble robber should climb, by projecting stones, to a window\non the second story, fasten a rope wound about his waist to the\ncross-bars, and drag the others up.\n\n\u201cNow we have the rascals,\u201d Michel whispered into the countess\u2019s ear,\nand ran before her up the stairs into the room whose window the\nscoundrel meant to enter. With his gun ready to fire, he waited in the\ndark until a head appeared above the sill, and then pressed the\ntrigger. A flash, a report, a shriek, a fall, followed one another in\nan instant. The two robbers who had remained below saw, with terror,\ntheir comrade drop at their feet, and turned to fly. Michel and the\ncountess fired at the same time, and saw both fall.\n\n\u201cHurrah!\u201d shouted Michel, joyously, and, without listening to the\ncountess\u2019s warning, he ran down the stairs, seized a lantern, unbolted\nthe door, and rushed out. At the foot of the castle wall he saw the man\nwith a crooked nose lying with a broken skull, and the one with a\nhare-lip had a bleeding wound in his breast. The squint-eyed man was\nnot dead. He had received a bullet in the leg, and had fallen, but rose\nagain, and was limping off. Michel pursued him like the wind. But the\nvagabond suddenly turned and struck fiercely at him with a knife.\nMichel fired a pistol which stretched the murderer in the grass; then\nhe, too, with the blade in his breast, fell to the earth.\n\nMeanwhile the countess\u2019s daughter and the two maids, roused from their\nsleep by the firing, came hurrying down. The countess called to them\nthat the danger was over, and all four carried the wounded Michel into\nthe castle, without heeding the three ruffians, who lay dead or\nsenseless.\n\nMichel, too, became unconscious after the four women had laid him on a\ncouch. When he came to himself again, many hours had passed since the\nadventure of the night. A maid had brought a doctor from the city at\ndawn, and now the count, who had been informed by a messenger of what\nhad happened, also arrived. Michel heard the doctor tell the count that\nhe would recover, and the countess speak with the highest praise of his\ncourage, to which they all owed their lives. He wanted to raise himself\nand say that he did not deserve so much honor, but they all ordered him\nin the same breath to say nothing and keep quiet.\n\nIt was many days before Michel\u2019s wound healed. The countess and her\ndaughter nursed him tenderly, and he was always happy whenever he saw\nthe lovely girl beside his bed. His eyes rested constantly upon her,\nand when they met hers, a faint flush mounted into her cheeks. He\nlonged to know what was passing through her little head, and asked for\nhis blue spectacles. The countess and her daughter wondered at this\ndesire, and wished to know what use he could have for blue spectacles\nin a darkened sick room. But he only repeated the request, until they\nyielded and brought the spectacles. He hastily seized them, put them on\nwith trembling hands, and gazed with all his soul at the white brow of\nthe young countess. He read: \u201cWhy does he stare at me so strangely? Has\nthe poor young fellow gone crazy?\u201d And beyond were many half-distinct\nthoughts, which were something like, \u201cThat would be a great pity, for\nhe is such a dear, brave fellow, and I am so fond of him that I wish he\nwould stay here with me till the end of my life.\u201d\n\nWhen he had read this, tears filled his eyes. He took off the glasses,\nwhich were dimmed, and did not utter a word. But when the countess left\nhim alone with her daughter, he suddenly seized the lovely girl\u2019s hand\nand said in a trembling voice: \u201cBeautiful Countess, I am only a poor\npeasant boy, but I love you very, very dearly, and I know that you love\nme, too, so I dare to ask you, Will you be my wife?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I will,\u201d she answered softly, sinking into his arms. So the\ncountess found the young couple when she entered. At first she was very\nangry, and would not consent to have her only daughter marry a peasant\nlad. But the young lady said: \u201cI will have him or no one. And if you\nwill not let me marry him, it will break my heart.\u201d Then, whether\nwilling or not, the mother was obliged to consent, and even beg the\ncount to give his blessing to the union. Michel was now almost well, so\nhe was again allowed to talk, and the count inquired how he had\ndiscovered the plans of the three murderers, two of whom were dead and\nburied, and the third lay wounded in prison. Michel did not wish to\nhave any secrets from his future father-in-law. He told him about his\nmeeting with the dwarf, who had given him the blue spectacles, and what\npower these spectacles possessed. The count wanted to try their\nwonderful magic himself, and was convinced that Michel had not\nattempted to deceive him.\n\n\u201cYou must show the dwarf\u2019s spectacles to the king,\u201d said the count and,\nwhen Michel was allowed to rise, he took him to court with him and\npresented him to the king, who heard his story with amazement. He, too,\nput on the spectacles, and looked a long while at the courtiers who\nsurrounded his throne.\n\n\u201cYour most gracious Majesty, I will gladly give you the dwarf\u2019s\nspectacles, if you will accept them from me.\u201d\n\nThe king slowly shook his head, took them off, and returned them to\nMichel. \u201cNo,\u201d he said, \u201cI do not want them. I would rather not be\ncompelled to read the thoughts of men. It does not give happiness. I\nwill even try to forget what I have read. I will appoint you the chief\njudge of my kingdom. Then you can apply the dwarf\u2019s spectacles to a\nuseful purpose.\u201d\n\nMichel was now a person of importance, whom even a count would\nwillingly accept for a son-in-law. He brought his mother from the\ncarpenter\u2019s home in the village, married the beautiful young countess,\nmoved into a splendid palace in the capital, and performed his duties\nas chief justice, with the blue spectacles on his nose.\n\nNobody among the people knew their power, but soon all trembled before\nit. For through them Michel read the truth in the head of the most\nhardened criminal and most skilful sharper; no lie could stand before\nhim, and no injustice remained concealed. No innocent person was\ncondemned, and no guilty one escaped punishment; henceforward law and\njustice reigned throughout the kingdom. Michel was feared by the bad,\nhonored by the good, and praised by all as the wisest man in the whole\ncountry, and so it remained to the end of his long life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN BEETLE THAT WENT ON HIS TRAVELS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in Brazil an Atlas butterfly that was far\nmore beautiful than any which had ever been seen before. Her large\nwings shimmered with green and pale blue, and when she was flying about\nin the sunshine one could not tell whether it was a wonderful flower, a\njewel set with precious stones and pearls, or the flame of a\nwill-o\u2019-the-wisp fluttering through the air.\n\nIn the same forest there lived also brilliant little humming-birds,\nmagnificent large beetles, and friendly parrots. They formed a very\nhaughty society, and associated only with one another and the most\naristocratic orchids, around which they daily gathered for a little\ngossip with the most delicious refreshments. Among them was also a\ngolden beetle of the richest species, that seemed to be made entirely\nof the precious metal. This golden beetle had been a playmate of the\nAtlas butterfly, a young lady of noble birth, from her childhood. The\ntwo had loved each other very dearly, flew about with each other a\ngreat deal, danced together in the sunshine, and charmed every one who\nsaw them by their brilliancy and play of colors. It was generally\nbelieved in the forest that the golden beetle and the Atlas butterfly\nwere engaged to each other and would be married some day, and there was\nonly one opinion about it,\u2014that they would make a glorious pair.\n\nThen one day it happened that a European appeared in the primeval\nforest, searching for rare orchids. In his rambles he, too, saw the\nAtlas butterfly, and at sight of her he neglected the valuable flowers\nand had eyes only for the marvellously beautiful butterfly. He was on\nthe watch for her at all hours of the day, and eagerly pursued her when\nhe saw her flying by. The monkeys noticed and chattered about it; it\ncame also to the ears of the parrots, who shook their heads, saying\nthat the matter would come to no good end. The humming-birds thought it\nadvisable to warn the Atlas butterfly that she might be on her guard.\nBut they delayed too long; one noon the butterfly was missing from the\nmeeting; the golden beetle at once flew to the palm tree where the\nbeauty lived, but did not find her at home; all the animals in the\nforest helped him search, but all was in vain\u2014the Atlas butterfly had\nvanished.\n\nThe golden beetle was not to be comforted. He withdrew into a hollow\ntree, would neither eat nor drink, and saw no one. The humming-birds\ncame and, to rouse him from his grief, told him that all sorts of\nthings were being said in the forest. It was reported that the Atlas\nbutterfly had eloped with the European orchid hunter, so he need not\ngrieve for the vain creature. The humming-birds meant kindly. They\nthought such speeches would console his sorrow, but they only increased\nhis grief. \u201cYou lie!\u201d cried the golden beetle violently; \u201cmy bride is\nas good and true as she is beautiful. She would never have left me of\nher own free will. A scoundrel has certainly captured and dragged her\naway by force, perhaps even killed her. You are slandering her. Go! I\nwish to be alone.\u201d\n\nAn honest but rough Hercules beetle had heard all this. \u201cYou are a weak\nfellow,\u201d said the rude giant to the delicate golden beetle. \u201cIf you\ncare for your betrothed bride and believe in her faithfulness, don\u2019t\ncreep into your hole. Stir yourself. Do something. Search for your\nAtlas butterfly. Perhaps you will find her.\u201d\n\nThese words roused the golden beetle a little from his depression. At\nthe next meeting of the fashionable society of the forest, he again\nappeared, and received proofs of sympathy for his misfortune from all\nsides. He told a clever parrot what the Hercules beetle had said, and\nasked what he thought of it.\n\n\u201cThe rude fellow is right,\u201d said the parrot; \u201cthere is really no sense\nin giving yourself up idly to your despair. You are young, you have\nyour life before you, you are immensely rich; if you make a proper use\nof your advantages, you can recover your happiness again.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the use of my wealth?\u201d complained the golden beetle; \u201cI cannot\nbuy with my gold my Atlas butterfly if I have lost her.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the parrot; \u201cbut you can search the world, follow the\ntraces of your betrothed bride, and become united to her again. I\u2019ll\ntell you something. One of our handsomest lories is soon going to\nEurope. He has obtained a splendid position in one of the zo\u00f6logical\ngardens of the Old World. Put yourself into communication with him.\nPerhaps you can travel with him. When you are once over there, the rest\nwill take care of itself.\u201d\n\nAccording to the custom of all talkative people, the parrot had\nconsiderably exaggerated the truth. The lory had no brilliant position,\nbut had simply been captured and placed in a cage, to be sold to a\nEuropean zo\u00f6logical garden. This bird-cage was hung in the porch of a\nfarm-house at the edge of the forest, until there should be an\nopportunity to send the valuable bird to the nearest seaport. The\ngolden beetle easily found him, and creeping through the wires of the\ncage, he asked if he would take him to Europe as a travelling\ncompanion?\n\nThe lory consented with great pleasure, for now he would have a\ncountryman with whom he could talk all day long. But he advised him to\ntravel incognito, to avoid the plundering to which he would certainly\nbe exposed if he displayed his wealth. The advice was good, though the\nparrot had given it solely from vanity. He was afraid that the\nmagnificence of the golden beetle would cast his own rich colors into\nthe shade. The golden beetle cared nothing for appearances. He bought\nfrom a spider a gray overcoat, which covered him from his feelers to\nthe end of his body, and allowed no glimpse of his shining gold to be\nseen. In this plain travelling costume he was perfectly unpretending\nand attracted no one\u2019s eyes. When the lory was taken to the seaport in\nits cage, it was not noticed that he had a travelling companion, and\neven the sailors who carried the cage with the gay-plumaged, chattering\nbird to the ship and stowed it away under the deck, did not notice or\ndid not see the beetle sitting modestly in a corner.\n\nOn the journey he fared badly. He was terribly seasick, and a seasick\nbeetle is a sorry spectacle, even if he is a golden beetle. The ship\nwas swarming with cockroaches, which made their way into the cage,\ncarried on the most careless housekeeping in it, and, in spite of his\nproud reserve, treated the golden beetle with the most unpleasant\nfamiliarity, as if he were one of themselves. But he patiently endured\nthe vulgarity of the coarse, dirty brown, evil-smelling fellows,\nthinking constantly of his beautiful Atlas butterfly, for whose sake he\nexposed himself to all this discomfort.\n\nThe sea voyage lasted three weeks, then the steamer ran into the\nharbor, the parrot was taken out and carried to the zo\u00f6logical garden,\nwhere henceforth, with a thin metal chain fastened to one foot,\nattached to a shining brass ring, he was to live in the midst of a\nnoisy throng of lories, cockatoos, and other parrots. When he was taken\nout of his cage, the lory said to the golden beetle: \u201cNow we must take\nleave of each other, for I shall enter upon the duties of my new\noffice. You are now in Europe and can set out on the search for your\nbetrothed bride. I wish you much success in it. And if you need advice\nor anything else, come to this garden, and ask for the Brazilian\nambassador in the parrot-house.\u201d\n\nThe golden beetle left his countryman and continued his search alone.\nAt first he liked the foreign country very well. He had left his\nBrazilian forest in the winter, and supposed it was now winter in\nEurope. So he was surprised to find himself in the midst of summer, for\nhe did not know that it is summer in Europe when it is winter in\nBrazil, and vice versa. He wandered about on the soft turf in the\ngarden for a while, until he met a running beetle.\n\n\u201cHolloa, comrade,\u201d he called to him; \u201care there any golden beetles\naround here?\u201d\n\nThe running beetle was in a hurry as usual. Without stopping in his\ncareer, he called over his shoulder: \u201cLook for the rose-bushes. But\nnothing will be given there to-day,\u201d for he thought the gray-coated\nstranger was a tramp seeking alms from the rich.\n\nThe golden beetle followed the directions, and after some little\nsearch, found the rose-bushes. He was going to make his way through the\nbranches, still covered with thick leaves, when a stag beetle met him\nand with his horns raised threateningly, shouted roughly: \u201cHalt! Where\ndo you want to go?\u201d\n\n\u201cI want to pay my respects to the golden beetles and make their\nacquaintance.\u201d\n\n\u201cOho!\u201d replied the stag beetle, insolently, \u201cdo you suppose that a\nshabby fellow like you can be introduced to their lordships, the golden\nbeetles, so unceremoniously? Move on.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am a relative of the golden beetles, a near relative,\u201d said the\ngolden beetle, much embarrassed.\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d sneered the stag beetle; \u201crich gentlemen have a great many\nrelatives. Off with you, and quickly, or I\u2019ll make you find your legs!\u201d\n\nAs the golden beetle lingered, the stag beetle seized him roughly with\nhis horns, to throw him out. The gray overcoat tore under the rude\ngrasp, and an end of the shining gold cover of his wings appeared. The\nstag beetle let him go in astonishment, stared at him with his big\nblack eyes, shook his feelers doubtfully, and said: \u201cIf you will kindly\nexcuse me\u2014I could not know\u2014I will announce your lordship at once\u2014\u201d\nafter which he hurried away.\n\nThe golden beetle perceived that he must make it easy for his kinsmen\nto recognize him, and stripped off his spider-web overcoat entirely.\nWhen several of the golden beetles, summoned by the stag beetle,\nappeared to welcome their cousin, they stood still, fairly dazzled.\nNever had they seen such magnificence. The European golden beetles were\nsmall, and had only a few modest gold spots, streaks, and rings on\ntheir backs and wings, while this South American cousin was probably\nfour times as large, and his whole body, without a single break, was\ncovered with glistening gold. In Europe they were considered immensely\nrich, but, in comparison with this American millionaire, they seemed to\nthemselves poor. He aroused their secret envy, but they did not allow\nit to be seen, received him very cordially, begged him to come in, set\nrose dew before him, and inquired about, his affairs.\n\nHe told them that he had come from the Brazilian forest to Europe to\nfind his future wife, who had been stolen from him by a wicked\nEuropean. Perceiving very clearly that the European relatives, in\ncomparison with him, were very plain people, he did not want to mortify\nthem by a description of his palm palaces, his aristocratic\nacquaintances, his humming-birds, orchids, parrots, and Hercules\nbeetles; but his bride he described in all the magnificence of her\nbreadth of wings and shining blue and green enamel, and asked the\ncousins if they had not seen her or heard something about her.\n\nThe golden beetles looked at one another. Although their eyes convinced\nthem of their transatlantic cousin\u2019s wealth, they believed he was\nexaggerating the charms of his bride. \u201cIf the young lady is so\nremarkably beautiful and richly adorned, as you say, Cousin,\u201d replied\nthe most distinguished of the group, \u201cshe would probably have been\nnoticed here. But we have heard nothing of her. Yet, for greater\ncertainty, we will ask the butterflies.\u201d\n\nThe whole party climbed to the top branches of the rose-bushes, around\nwhich some butterflies were always hovering, and called them. They were\nonly common white butterflies, yellow ones and fox faces, who felt\nhonored to have the golden beetles condescend to enter into\nconversation with them. They were fairly stupefied with astonishment\nand admiration when they saw the gold-clad Brazilian. The latter spoke\nto them kindly and sadly, asking if they had not seen a wonderfully\nbeautiful large butterfly, which glittered with the most brilliant\ncolors, and looked as if it was set with pearls and precious stones.\n\n\u201cOh, yes, I know whom you mean,\u201d cried a pert common white butterfly,\neither to make itself important or from stupidity.\n\n\u201cWhat, dear young lady, you have seen the one whom I am seeking? Quick!\nWhere is she, that I may rush to her?\u201d urged the golden beetle.\n\n\u201cOne moment, sir,\u201d replied the white butterfly. \u201cI only want to\nannounce you.\u201d\n\nThe butterfly hastily flew away and went straight to a neighboring\nblackberry hedge, where a peacock eye was sunning itself. He imagined\nthat the golden beetle\u2019s description suited this butterfly, the most\nbeautiful one he knew in the whole neighborhood.\n\n\u201cAh, Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle,\u201d cried the butterfly, as he approached\nthe peacock eye, \u201can American prince has come, who has heard of your\nbeauty, and wants to ask your hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn American prince?\u201d asked the peacock eye, surprised and flattered,\nbeginning to flutter her richly adorned wings.\n\n\u201cYes, Mademoiselle, a prince, entirely covered with glittering gold,\nand so large, so stately, so handsome a creature I have never seen in\nforest or field. May I bring him to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, bring him to me, my dear friend,\u201d said the peacock eye, settling\nherself so that her colors appeared to the best advantage.\n\nThe white butterfly quickly returned to the rose-bush, and while still\nat a distance called to the golden beetle that was waiting impatiently,\n\u201cCome, sir, come, the young lady will be happy to receive you.\u201d\n\nThe message surprised the golden beetle, for he would have expected his\nbride to fly to him at once, when she was informed of his presence; but\nhe followed the white butterfly fluttering before him. All the moths\nand a number of golden beetles joined them, and the Brazilian\napproached the blackberry hedge with a numerous train, which the\npeacock eye saw flying toward her from quite a long distance. When the\nwhite butterfly stopped close in front of the beautiful creature, the\ngolden beetle, without noticing her, glancing impatiently in all\ndirections, asked: \u201cWhere is she? Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is sitting directly in front of you, sir; don\u2019t you see her?\u201d\nreplied the white butterfly in surprise, while the peacock eye made\npretty little movements to attract the attention of the aristocratic,\ngold-mailed suitor.\n\nThe golden beetle now saw the peacock eye and cried in a disappointed\ntone, \u201cWhat put this into your mind; the young lady certainly is not\nshe.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought you wished to be introduced to me,\u201d said the peacock eye,\nsharply.\n\n\u201cPardon me, Mademoiselle,\u201d replied the golden beetle, \u201cit is a mistake.\nI hoped to find here my betrothed bride, an Atlas butterfly from my\nhome, the most glorious, the most exquisite creature that ever\nglittered in the sun.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I cannot be compared with your Atlas butterfly,\u201d remarked\nthe peacock eye, snappishly.\n\n\u201cYou certainly cannot,\u201d answered the golden beetle with thoughtless\nsincerity.\n\n\u201cBrazilian princes are really delightfully civil,\u201d retorted the peacock\neye deeply offended, turned her back upon the golden beetle and his\ncompanions, and flew away.\n\nThe butterflies and golden beetles left the American alone. They\ndisapproved of his lack of politeness. \u201cOur most aristocratic moths are\nnot good enough for him!\u201d \u201cWhat does the dandy think he is!\u201d \u201cHe might\nat least have been more courteous!\u201d they buzzed to one another, and\nnobody defended him, no one honored his fidelity to his lost bride.\n\nBut the peacock butterfly, whom he had offended, vowed vengeance upon\nhim. Flying to the guard room of the bombardier beetles, at the foot of\nan ancient hollow oak, she told them that a foreign millionaire was\nvisiting the golden beetles in the rose-bush\u2014a millionaire who carried\nvast treasures with him. They must seize him, then they would all be\nrich.\n\nThe bombardier beetles were a disorderly company. They were always\nlying in wait, ready for any evil deed. The whole gang set off at once,\nmarched to the rose-bush and surrounded it. They saw the golden beetle,\nwhose magnificent glitter betrayed him. He had settled on a branch and\nwas sorrowfully thinking what he should do now. Suddenly a crashing\nnoise began below him, and missiles whizzed around his head. Startled\nby the attack, he looked around and discovered the bombardier beetle\u2019s,\nwho were raging around the foot of the rose-bush, firing at him. He\ncould not understand the assault, but realized that his life was at\nstake and flew away as fast as possible, to get out of range of the\nbandits.\n\nBut where should he go now? Back to the kind lory, to tell him of his\ntroubles? He found his countryman engaged in a loud, shrill\nconversation with a whole group of aras, cockatoos, and other parrots,\nwho were all swinging in their big metal rings, talking together with\nvehement screams. The lory was gossiping so fast, that he did not see\nthe golden beetle. But the attendant in the zo\u00f6logical garden, who was\njust entering the parrot-house with food for the birds, noticed him,\nflung the sack he held in his hand on the ground, threw his heavy cap\nat the golden beetle, which struck and knocked him down and, with a\nshout of joy, seized him. The beetle, stunned by the blow and the fall,\ndid not move in the hand of the attendant, who hurried with his prize\nto the superintendent of the garden, and silently placed it on the\ntable before him.\n\n\u201cA Brazilian golden beetle!\u201d cried the superintendent in joyful\nastonishment. \u201cIt probably came with our new lory. We often have these\npleasant surprises with our consignments from across the sea. We will\nput it with our Atlas butterfly.\u201d\n\nWhen the golden beetle heard the words \u201cAtlas butterfly,\u201d he instantly\nrecovered his senses. He forgot his present situation, he did not think\nthat he was a prisoner, perhaps in danger of his life; he only repeated\nwith secret joy that he should see his Atlas butterfly again. He did\nnot move a limb, a wing, or a feeler when the superintendent laid him\nin the hollow of his hand, and went with him to the Museum of Natural\nHistory, which was connected with the zo\u00f6logical garden. Entering the\ngreat hall, he went to a glass case and opened it. The golden beetle\nglanced in\u2014Oh, rapture! Oh, bliss! There sat his Atlas butterfly with\noutspread wings, though she was strangely motionless. At this sight the\ngolden beetle made a sudden effort, and, before the astonished\nsuperintendent could shut his hand over him, flew away like a flash of\nlightning. Instantly a wild chase began, the superintendent and the\nattendant in the zo\u00f6logical garden ran here and there, but dared not\nthrow anything at the golden beetle, for fear that they might break the\ncases, or damage the animals outside. He easily escaped, in his swift\nflight, the butterfly nets they waved frantically to and fro, so they\ncould only look on, while the golden beetle, buzzing loudly, flew in\nwide circles around the ceiling of the lofty hall, far beyond the reach\nof their arms.\n\nMeantime, the glass case that held the Atlas butterfly was left open.\nIn order not to injure the beautiful creature, they had not fastened\nher with a pin, but glued her down lightly with a thin varnish. They\nthought that she was dead, but it was not so. And as, just before, the\nmere mention of the Atlas butterfly\u2019s name had roused the golden beetle\nfrom his stupor, now the well-known loud buzzing of the golden beetle\nwaked the butterfly from her unconsciousness. She slowly recovered her\nsenses, saw at first, as if in a confused dream, then more and more\nclearly, what was passing around her, heard the noise of the chase,\nsuddenly recognized high up at the ceiling her beloved golden beetle,\nand with fresh courage began to make violent efforts to tear her legs\nfrom the varnish in which they were stuck. Unnoticed by the\nsuperintendent and his servant, whose eyes were fixed upon the escaped\nbeetle, the butterfly pulled and strained and jerked until she\nsucceeded in freeing herself. True, she left a leg in the varnish; but\nshe had no thought now for pain and wounds. Up she flew, straight to\nthe golden beetle, and before the wondering eyes of the two men, the\nfaithful pair from Brazil were once more united.\n\nWith the speed of an arrow, both flew out of the open door into the\ngarden and alighted on the top of a tall tree. The golden beetle could\nnot contain his joy, as he stroked and petted the Atlas butterfly. But\nshe said: \u201cAlas, how I look! My wings have lost their brightness, and I\nwas obliged to leave a leg with those wicked men. Now I am so ugly and\nyou are so handsome.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t grieve about that,\u201d replied the golden beetle. \u201cYour wound will\nheal and your wings will shine again, and you will be now as always\nmore beautiful than any other creature in the world.\u201d At the same\nmoment, he began with zeal and strength to brush the gold from his own\nwings, and to scatter it over his bride\u2019s. Soon she was completely\ncovered with glistening gold, and again as magnificent to behold as a\njewel, but the golden beetle was as plain and colorless as on the\njourney, when he hid his splendor under the spider-web overcoat.\n\nA starling, whose nest was in the tree, had seen and heard everything.\nPerching beside the couple on the bough, he soothed them in regard to\nhis intentions, and begged them to tell him their story. They did so,\nand the starling was so touched by it, that he flew around the garden,\nrelating to all the birds and free animals the incidents of the cruel\nseparation, and the wonderful reunion of the two faithful Brazilians.\nBirds, squirrels, butterflies, and beetles came flying from all\ndirections, brought the foreigners the best honey that could be had\nfrom the modest autumn flowers of Europe, and advised them to have\ntheir wedding.\n\nBut they did not want to marry until they had returned home. It was too\ncold for them here, and they were homesick for the forest and the\nhumming-birds, and orchids, and parrots, and monkeys. Their new friends\nput their heads together and discussed what they could do for the\nbeautiful creatures. The starling undertook to carry them to the\nnearest seaport, and put them on a ship sailing for South America.\nTrue, the young couple would be obliged to hide in the dark hold, and\nbe annoyed by the intrusive, vulgar cockroaches; but after what they\nhad experienced, this was a small annoyance, easily endured, which they\nwould bear with firmness till they reached the end of their journey.\n\nThe golden beetle, meanwhile, had covered himself with new gold, and\nthe Atlas butterfly had regained her former magnificent colors, only\neven more beautiful from the gold scattered over them, so when they\nagain appeared in the forest they were more glorious than ever. Every\none welcomed them with the greatest joy; they remained from that time\nunited, without ever separating, and in the hours of gossip with the\nlories over the honey, the company never grew tired of hearing repeated\nagain and again the story of their sorrowful journey to Europe and\nhappy return.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLD BRAIDS\n\n\n\u201cOh, mother,\u201d cried the little girl, \u201cI am so hungry!\u201d\n\n\u201cBe quiet, my darling, pray be quiet,\u201d said the mother, trying to\nsoothe her.\n\n\u201cBut, mother,\u201d the child began again, after a short pause, \u201cwhy don\u2019t\nwe have something to eat?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause there is no food,\u201d was the answer. Then the little girl began\nto sob bitterly, and her mother took her in her arms, and wept, too,\nrocking and kissing the little one.\n\nThe mother was a beautiful young woman, whose husband had died a short\ntime before, leaving her alone in the world with her child. She had no\nmoney, so she was obliged to work to earn a living for herself and her\nlittle daughter. She was a good seamstress and very industrious; but\nshe could not always find work, and then they had a hard time. For the\nbaker and the butcher are not rich people; they can neither give nor\nlend long, and if customers cannot pay them, they can get neither\ncoffee nor sugar, neither meat nor bread, neither potatoes nor lard,\nneither coal for stoves and hearths nor oil for lamps.\n\nNow another time without work had come, the last money the widow could\nsave had been spent, and for two days no fire had burned in the stove,\nthough it was winter and very cold; and no oil in the lamp, though it\ngrew dark early. The little girl had eaten nothing all day, and her\nmother had tasted no food for two days.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t wait any longer,\u201d said the child, in a faint voice. \u201cIf I\ndon\u2019t have a piece of bread, I shall die.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried the mother, \u201cyou shall not die. Come, I\u2019ll put you to bed,\nso that you may keep warm, and then I\u2019ll go and get you some bread.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, do, dear mother,\u201d whispered the little girl, while the mother was\nundressing and putting her to bed. \u201cOnly soon, please.\u201d\n\nThe mother went to the neighbor who lived in the second story. She was\na very rich woman, but hard-hearted and miserly. Besides, she envied\nthe young widow because, in spite of her poverty, she was far handsomer\nand more elegant.\n\nThe rich woman listened impatiently, and answered sullenly: \u201cI lend\nnothing. If people were always giving, they would have nothing left for\nthemselves. And I have no work for you, either. Go, in heaven\u2019s name.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen must I leave my child to starve?\u201d cried the mother, wringing her\nhands.\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you pawn or sell something?\u201d asked the woman harshly.\n\n\u201cI have nothing more to pawn or sell,\u201d was the answer.\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d replied the neighbor, with a spiteful smile. \u201cAt least, you\nhave your long, fair braids. What does a poor beggar want with such a\nquantity of hair? You can certainly get quite a little sum for it.\u201d\n\nThe poor mother looked silently at her cruel neighbor a moment, then\nshe left the room without a word.\n\nShe really did have wonderfully beautiful hair, long, thick, soft as\nsilk, yellow as spun gold. When she let it down, it covered her like a\nroyal mantle; when she brushed it, sunbeams seemed to be playing around\nthe comb and her hand.\n\nWhen the envious neighbor had told her to cut off her hair, her one\nornament, it cut her to the heart. But when she stood in the street,\nand thought of her starving child up in a cold, dark, little garret\nroom, she quickly resolved to make the hard sacrifice.\n\nAt the street corner was a hairdresser\u2019s shop, in whose show windows\nwere the wax busts of ladies with hair beautifully and elaborately\narranged, wigs of various colors, and oddly shaped bottles of perfume.\nOn the panes was pasted a notice bearing the words, \u201cWomen\u2019s blond and\nwhite hair bought here at the highest prices.\u201d\n\nTo this shop the young mother went. At the door she hesitated, but not\nlong. Summoning all her courage, she entered.\n\n\u201cWhat do you wish?\u201d asked the hairdresser, a little hunchbacked man\nwith sharp, black eyes.\n\n\u201cExcuse me, sir,\u201d replied the poor mother, timidly, \u201cbut I think you\nbuy women\u2019s blond hair?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, certainly. Have you any to sell?\u201d\n\n\u201cMine, sir, if you want it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes\u2014h\u2019m, h\u2019m,\u201d said the little hunchback, fixing his sharp eyes\non her. \u201cLet me see it.\u201d\n\nHe took her into the back shop, and she quickly drew out her comb and\nlet the heavy braids fall. They hung to her feet.\n\nThe hairdresser uttered a cry of surprise. \u201cWhat! Do you want to have\nthese braids cut off?\u201d\n\nShe only nodded; her throat felt choked, so that she could not make a\nsound, and she turned her head away to keep the little man from seeing\nthe tears which filled her eyes.\n\n\u201cDo you know that they will never grow so beautiful again?\u201d\n\nShe only shrugged her shoulders.\n\n\u201cBut why do you commit this sin against yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I must,\u201d she answered, and began to sob violently. \u201cI have a\nlittle child who is starving and freezing. I have neither money nor\nwork, and no one will help me. There is nothing else left.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes\u2014h\u2019m, h\u2019m,\u201d he said again, fixing his keen eyes on her, as if\nhe was trying to read her thoughts. He seemed to reflect a short time;\nthen he suddenly said, harshly: \u201cIf you have decided to do it, I am\nsatisfied. Sit down. How much do you ask?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know the value of it. I depend upon you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, we\u2019ll see.\u201d He rummaged a short time among the scissors and\nrazors that lay on the marble-topped table; but, instead of taking any\nof them, pulled out a drawer and seized something which the young widow\ncould not see very distinctly, though it looked like a long leather\ncase. \u201cShut your eyes,\u201d said the hunchback, authoritatively. She\nobeyed. But even through the closed lids she saw a sudden light\u2014like a\nflash of lightning a flame appeared to glide over her head. She\nscreamed and fainted. When she recovered, the little man was sprinkling\nher with cologne, muttering: \u201cWhat nonsense! Do be sensible.\u201d\n\nShe raised both hands to her head. It was perfectly bare. Her two\nbraids were lying on the marble table. Light seemed to flicker from\nthem. The hairdresser placed them in a scale and put silver coins into\nthe other until the two balanced exactly. He used twenty-eight thalers,\nfor the hair weighed more than a pound.\n\n\u201cLive and let live,\u201d he said when he had finished. \u201cThese braids really\nought to be outweighed with gold, instead of silver, but I must earn\nsomething, too.\u201d\n\nHe counted the money into her hand, then took back one coin, saying\nwith a queer smile, \u201cI am deducting this piece\u2014you will learn for\nwhat.\u201d\n\nWhen the mother went out into the street again, her head was as\nconfused as if she had just waked from a dream. But she felt the heavy\nsilver in her pocket, and knew it was not that.\n\nNow she was rich, and at least could do something for her child.\nRunning into the nearest shops, she bought not only bread and coal,\ncoffee and sugar, but also cakes, butter, and an egg. She was in such a\nhurry that she did not notice how people stared at her shaved head.\nThen, laden with her packages, and followed by a man carrying coal, she\nrushed up the stairs to her room. Her rich neighbor stood at the\nthreshold of her door, watching her spitefully. She saw at once that\nthe young widow had lost her magnificent hair, and cried, with a\nmalicious smile: \u201cYou have taken my advice. That was right. In future\nyou will lose no time in combing it.\u201d\n\nThe mother did not stop to answer. But when she reached her door at the\ntop of the stairs, she put her packages on the floor and tied her shawl\naround her head, that the little girl might not notice anything.\n\nThe child had not gone to sleep. Hunger had kept her awake. Her first\nwords, when her mother came in, were, \u201cMother, have you brought the\nbread?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my darling,\u201d cried the mother, and in an instant she was beside\nthe bed, covering the child with kisses, \u201cand cakes, and butter, and\nmany other good things. There.\u201d She gave her a slice of bread, which\nthe little girl bit eagerly; then she made a fire in the stove, lighted\nthe lamp, boiled the coffee, and cooked the egg, and it was bright and\nwarm and cosey in the little attic room, and the child was happy and\nlaughed and talked. So the mother no longer grieved because she had\nsacrificed her beautiful hair. When they had eaten until they were\nfully satisfied, the little girl fell asleep at once, and the mother\nlay down by her side. The next morning she was roused by her child\u2019s\nclear voice, exclaiming in surprise, \u201cMother, why didn\u2019t you braid your\nhair last night?\u201d She started\u2014yes, her hair, long, thick, and soft as\nsilk, was spread over the pillows and falling on the coverlet. She\nsprang out of bed, but she did not need to go to the little dim mirror\non the wall to perceive that she really did have her hair again; for\nwhen she stood on the floor, it fell around her in the usual way,\nveiling her from head to foot like a royal mantle of spun gold. She\nswiftly braided it, dressed hurriedly, and ran to the hairdresser.\n\n\u201cMr. Barber, what does this mean? Are you a juggler? Or a magician?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be troubled,\u201d said the little hunchbacked man, and his keen gaze\nseemed to pierce her through and through. \u201cThere is no witchcraft here.\nI make a preparation for the hair, which has not its equal anywhere.\nThe hair grows out in one night, only thicker and more beautiful than\nbefore. I washed your head with it when you fainted, and that is why I\ndeducted the money. Do you understand?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow shall I thank you?\u201d said the mother, softly, trying to take his\nhand to kiss it.\n\n\u201cWhat are you thinking of!\u201d cried the hairdresser, harshly, drawing\nback a step. \u201cGo away. I have no time.\u201d\n\nBut when she had reached the door, he called her back. \u201cOne thing more,\nmy good woman. If you should be badly off again, you need not sell your\nbraids. Just cut a piece a finger wide from the end\u2014not a bit more, do\nyou hear?\u2014and carry it to the nearest goldsmith. He\u2019ll buy it of you,\nfor it is spun gold. It will grow again, too. But you must do all this\nonly if you really need it, and can obtain help in no other way. Mark\nthis. And now, farewell.\u201d\n\nAs she went home, lost in thought, she met in the entry her greedy\nneighbor who was just getting into her carriage to take a drive, as she\ndid every day. The envious woman stood as if she were rooted to the\nground, opened her eyes in amazement, and cried: \u201cWhy, my good woman,\nwhat ails you? Didn\u2019t you have your braids cut off last evening?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, they were,\u201d replied the young widow, \u201cbut they grew again in the\nnight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are making fun of me,\u201d snarled the hard-hearted rich woman. \u201cHow\ncould that be possible?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe barber washed my shaven head with a wonderfully strong tonic, and\nit made the hair grow out so quickly again, only still thicker and\nlonger than before.\u201d\n\nThe angry miser did not say a word, but cast a spiteful glance at her\nneighbor, who was again so much more beautiful than she, left her\nstanding in the entry, and ran straight to the hunchbacked hairdresser.\n\n\u201cWill you buy my hair?\u201d she asked, after entering the shop without any\ngreeting.\n\nThe little hunchback looked at her angrily with his sharp, black eyes,\nand answered: \u201cYour hair isn\u2019t worth anything. I can give you nothing\nfor it.\u201d\n\nShe controlled her rage, and said: \u201cNo matter. I will give it to you.\nOnly cut it off.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBecause I want it to grow out much longer and thicker, like my\nneighbor, the seamstress\u2019s. It isn\u2019t right that such a needy wretch\nshould be more beautiful than a wealthy, aristocratic lady like me.\u201d\n\n\u201cOho?\u201d growled the little hunchback. \u201cWell, as you please.\u201d\n\nHe told her to sit down in a chair, but did not take the mysterious\ncase out of the drawer. Instead, he seized a pair of scissors which lay\non the marble top of the table, and grasped her little thin braid,\nwhose color was a dull, brownish black. Snip, snap, and he held the rat\ntail in his hand and flung it contemptuously into the corner. Snip,\nsnap, and her skull was shaved so smooth that no one who looked at her\ncould help laughing.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve finished,\u201d he said roughly. \u201cYou can go.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the hair tonic?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat hair tonic?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe one which makes the hair grow out again so quickly, only more\nbeautiful than before.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt costs eighty-one marks,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo matter,\u201d she answered haughtily. \u201cI have it.\u201d\n\nHe took the money, then opened a bottle, and sprinkled over her head a\nfew drops of liquid, which smelled like pitch and sulphur. It itched\nand burned horribly, but she stifled the pain. \u201cOne can suffer a little\nfor the sake of being beautiful,\u201d she thought, and went off very well\npleased, while the hairdresser, smiling scornfully, shut the shop door\nbehind her.\n\nWhen she reached home, and her husband and servants saw her, they\nclasped their hands in horror. \u201cJust wait,\u201d she said, and going to her\nchamber, she lay down in bed like a sick person. She remained there\npatiently all day long, and fell asleep late in the evening, firmly\nbelieving that her discomfort would be over the next morning. She woke\nvery early, for her impatience would not allow her to sleep longer. The\nfirst thing she did was to seize her head with both hands\u2014alas! it was\nas bare as when it left the hands of the hunchbacked hairdresser.\n\n\u201cPerhaps it doesn\u2019t grow so fast,\u201d she thought, and stayed in bed\ntwenty-four hours longer. But the next day she was just as bald as\nbefore. Then, in a rage, she hurried on her clothes, wrapped her head\nin a veil and hat, and rushed off to the hunchbacked hairdresser.\n\n\u201cMan, you have cheated me!\u201d she screamed.\n\n\u201cThat is not so. How?\u201d he answered roughly.\n\n\u201cYour tonic is a swindle. The hair does not grow out again.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you children? Or at least one child?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my tonic helps only mothers. You ought to have known that. Leave\nmy shop.\u201d\n\nIt was of no use. If she did not wish to remain as ugly and ridiculous\nas a scarecrow, she was obliged to buy a wig, and as her hair never\ngrew out again, she had to wear this wig to the end of her life. But\nthe young mother fared better and better. She had plenty of work, so\nshe was soon able to leave her attic room and move to the second story.\nShe never needed to cut off an end of her gold braids. She brought up\nher little daughter, and when the daughter was a beautiful, educated,\ncharming girl twenty years old, she married a fine young man; they had\na large family of children, and if they are not dead, they are living\nstill.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATS THAT WOULDN\u2019T CATCH MICE\n\n\nIn an old library there once lived a cat, kept to protect the books and\ntheir leather bindings from the teeth of the mice. She was descended\nfrom a long line of ancestors, who had all held the same office, and\nshe was the mother of five charming kittens: a black one named Miese, a\nwhite one named Lise, a black and white one called Purr, one spotted\nwith brown and yellow named Murr, and one striped with black and gray,\ncalled Hinz. Purr, Murr, and Hinz were tom-cats, the other two were\npussies. The brothers and sisters were old enough to study, and had an\nhour\u2019s lesson from their mother every day. They could already purr,\nspit, and mew, make velvet paws, clean their fur, and wash their faces\nwith their wet paws. Now their mother began to introduce them to the\nhigher knowledge, that is, she taught them to catch mice. This was not\nat all easy. Behind and under the book shelves were a number of holes,\nwhich the mice used for hiding-places and refuges, where no grown cat\nand not even a kitten could possibly reach them. The chase could only\nbe successful in the clear open space in the centre of the library. So\nit was necessary to watch patiently until a mouse ventured out, and\nthen catch it at one spring, before it had time to slip back into its\nhole. The kittens were obliged to decide quickly and to act at once. If\nthey hesitated even a second, their prey escaped.\n\nOne morning the lesson was in full course. Mother and children had\nchased a mouse, but it had darted past fat Purr and slipped under a\nbook shelf before the clumsy fellow could stop it. For this awkwardness\nhis mother cuffed his ears several times, and his sisters Miese and\nLise laughed at him for being such a blockhead. After some time a\nmouse, the same one or another, put its sharp nose out from under a\nbook shelf, and looked around it. The mother and teacher instantly saw\nit with her keen eyes, and motioned to her children to keep quiet. As\neverything remained still, the mouse, from imprudence or bravado, came\nout entirely. Like a flash of lightning the old cat was between the\nmouse and the book shelf, cutting off its retreat. A wild running and\nleaping began. The mouse, which could do nothing else, ran up the\nbooks, the kittens followed, and so eagerly that they upset a pile of\nbooks which had been carelessly arranged. It fell to the floor with a\ngreat clatter, and behind it appeared a mouse\u2019s nest, where ten\nhalf-grown mice were tumbling over one another, vainly trying to escape\nby flight. The mother stunned them by swift blows with her paws, and\ngave them, struggling, to her kittens, that they might play with them\nbefore killing them with teeth and claws. Hearing the squeaking of the\nlittle mice in their pain and terror, their mother came out from the\nrows of books still standing on the shelves. She could only scream with\nfright, but could not help her little ones. Yet, when she was obliged\nto watch the massacre, the horrible spectacle was more than she could\nbear. Rushing as if crazed to the nearest little mouse, which Purr was\ncuffing right and left with his clumsy paws, she ran straight into the\nold cat\u2019s claws. There was a joyful mew, a blow of the paw, and the\nmouse mother lay dead beside her ten dead children.\n\nThe cat put them all in a row, called the librarian, to show him her\nprey, and then dismissed her children to take a long nap.\n\nThe kittens did not follow their mother\u2019s example. Instead of going to\nrest, they gathered in a corner of the library, where Miese began:\n\u201cThose poor mice! They are really very pretty little creatures!\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense!\u201d growled Purr. \u201cHow can people think mice pretty!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a cannibal!\u201d hissed Miese, angrily. \u201cDidn\u2019t you feel sorry for\nthe mother who came so bravely to help her little ones?\u201d\n\nPurr was silent in confusion, and Murr muttered: \u201cThat\u2019s true. The\nmother was a little heroine. I\u2019m sorry for her.\u201d\n\n\u201cI must say,\u201d remarked Hinz, \u201cthat I am not at all proud of what we\nhave done. It\u2019s really a cowardly thing for us, who are so big and\nstrong and active, besides being so terribly armed with teeth and\nclaws, to attack the weak, defenceless creatures.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe ought to be ashamed of ourselves,\u201d said Lise.\n\n\u201cWe all saw it,\u201d said Miese. \u201cThe spectacle will haunt me a long time.\nThere before us was the peaceful nest. The ten brothers and sisters\nwere lying comfortably together enjoying their young lives. Their\nmother\u2019s love watched over them. Suddenly destruction came. We killed\nand slaughtered. Now the mother and children are gone; the nest is torn\nto pieces. Why do we commit such cruelties? By what right? For what\npurpose?\u201d\n\n\u201cBravo! You speak from the soul!\u201d cried the vivacious Hinz. He admired\nhis sister very much. She was the brightest, most eloquent, and best\neducated of them all. She had not been born and brought up in a library\nfor nothing; she did not boast in vain of an endless line of learned\nancestors. She stood high above the ordinary roof and cellar cats, and\npromised to be an ornament to the cat family.\n\n\u201cI could cry when I think of those little mice,\u201d said Lise.\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t do it again,\u201d Hinz declared resolutely.\n\n\u201cBut if mother orders us,\u201d objected Purr.\n\n\u201cWe are no longer children,\u201d replied Miese, vehemently; \u201cwe ought to\nand must act according to our own views. We will tell mother so\nfrankly.\u201d\n\nIn fact, when the old cat called her children in the afternoon to take\ntheir lesson, Miese stood boldly before her and said, \u201cMother, we have\ndetermined not to catch any more mice.\u201d\n\nThe cat could hardly believe her ears. Putting them back angrily, she\nanswered: \u201cYou have determined? Why, that sounds very fine! True, it is\nmore comfortable to be lazy. Now begin, or you\u2019ll have your ears\ncuffed.\u201d\n\nMiese did not allow herself to be frightened. \u201cIt isn\u2019t for the sake of\nlaziness. Only we will not again commit the crime of murdering an\ninnocent family of little mice.\u201d\n\n\u201cMur-der-ing!\u201d repeated the old cat, fairly stammering in her\namazement. \u201cHave you gone crazy?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I have never been more sensible than I am now,\u201d said Miese,\nquietly but firmly. \u201cWe have agreed to keep peace with the mice in the\nfuture. Their lives and property shall be sacred to us.\u201d\n\nThe cat could not yet understand. \u201cAre you my children or changelings?\nNo true cat ever talked so before. We are here to catch mice, and that\nyou will do too, or I\u2019ll punish you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI deny that we are here for that,\u201d replied Miese, boldly. \u201cWe are here\nto love one another. The mice, too, are our brothers, like everything\nthat lives and enjoys life.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! The mice must be my brothers? Stop all this.\u201d The cat was not\npatient. She made a spring at Miese, to punish her, but the kitten\nescaped the threatening paw, ran into the corner, and cried defiantly:\n\u201cLong live justice! Long live brotherhood!\u201d\n\nThe mother tried persuasion and entreaties. \u201cChildren, this foolish\njest has lasted long enough. Let us lose no more time. To work. I will\ntrain you to be capable cats. You must become good mousers, like your\nmother and all your ancestors back to time immemorial.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do we care what our ancestors have done!\u201d replied Miese,\nobstinately. \u201cWe will break with the humdrum old ways. We are\nprogressive cats.\u201d\n\nThe brothers purred approvingly.\n\nThe old cat cast furious glances at them. \u201cProgressive cats! The word\nseems to please you, simpletons. No doubt you think yourselves far more\nclever than your narrow-minded old mother. Have you asked yourselves\nhow you are to live, if you don\u2019t catch mice?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe don\u2019t eat the mice,\u201d retorted Hinz, pertly.\n\n\u201cNo, because we have other food. But why are we fed? Because we catch\nmice. If we no longer caught mice, people would no longer feed us, or\neven let us stay in our library. Then we should see how we could\nmanage.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is food for everybody in the wide world,\u201d said Lise.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d screamed the cat, furiously. \u201cBegin\u2014or woe be unto\nyou!\u201d\n\nThe five kittens did not stir. Their mother sprang upon them, but they\nall ran through the open door, and kept on till the old cat stopped\nchasing them.\n\nThey rested in a meadow near a farm-house.\n\n\u201cWe will begin a new life, a more beautiful, more just, and better\none,\u201d said Miese, when she had recovered her breath a little.\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d said Purr; \u201cbut meanwhile I am hungry, and would like to\nhave my supper.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou never think of anything but eating,\u201d replied Lise, reproachfully.\n\nMurr came to his brother\u2019s support. \u201cI will gladly live for fraternity\nand justice. I will gladly be a progressive cat; but the stomach wants\nits rights, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right,\u201d said Miese. \u201cOnly have a little patience. You\u2019ll see\nthat your virtue will not fail to have its reward. I have confidence in\nour good cause. Follow me.\u201d\n\nShe had seen a barn in the meadow, and quickly led her brothers and\nsisters to it. They entered without any trouble through an open window.\nInside was a perfect mountain of wheat, over which countless mice were\nswarming. At the sudden entrance of the five cats, they scattered,\nsqueaking with fright, and vanished under, behind, and within the\nmountain of wheat, in mouse holes, and between the beams of the roof.\n\nPurr looked after them with sparkling eyes, Murr made a movement to\nfollow, but Hinz stopped him with a sharp \u201cMew.\u201d Miese climbed slowly\nup the wheat mountain, and when she had reached the top, solemnly\nbegan: \u201cHonored mice! Dear fellow-creatures! You have fled from us. We\ncan understand this, after the experiences you have had with our race.\nBut we come without any hostile designs upon you. We are no mouse\nhunters. We are progressive cats. We lament all the evil which our\nrelatives have done you, and would like to atone for their wickedness\nduring thousands of years. Dear mice, let us be brothers. We offer you\nthe paw of friendship. Clasp it. Join hands. A bond of love shall unite\nus in the future, and we will work together until there is light in the\nworld, till the innocent blood no longer flows, till cats and mice\nbeautify each other\u2019s short lives according to their powers.\u201d\n\nDuring Miese\u2019s speech many mice had put their sharp noses out of their\nhiding places and listened with increasing astonishment. When she had\nfinished, all was still for a time. At last an old mouse spoke. \u201cI have\nlived a long while and had many experiences,\u201d she said; \u201cbut I have\nnever heard such words from the mouth of a cat. If we could only\nbelieve you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour distrust is unfair,\u201d replied Miese. \u201cWhy should we pretend to\nfeelings we do not possess?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d answered the old mouse. \u201cTo lull us into security, so that you\ncan eat us comfortably when we are so stupid as to obey your call.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear brothers,\u201d said Miese, \u201cyou are doing us grave injustice. Our\nhearts are full of love for you, and we only wish there might be an\nopportunity to show it in other ways than by mere words.\u201d There was so\nmuch warmth in her voice, that it made an impression upon the mouse.\n\n\u201cDo you speak in the name of the whole cat people?\u201d asked the old\nmouse.\n\n\u201cFor the present we can speak only in our own name,\u201d replied Miese.\n\u201cThere is still much prejudice among us. Our old people will not give\nup their wicked customs. But the young ones are with us. I am sure of\nthat. The future will be ours. We will set an example, which all our\nrace will soon follow enthusiastically. Come, brothers, come, dear\nmice! Let us embrace one another. Let us celebrate the festival of\npeace and fraternity.\u201d\n\nThe mice began to whisper and mutter. Some wanted to accept Miese\u2019s\ninvitation, others hesitated. Suddenly a young mouse squeaked: \u201cI\u2019ll\nrisk it! Fraternity is so grand a thought that I will gladly stake my\nlife to learn whether the progressive cat means honestly.\u201d And, in\nspite of the anxious squeaking of the timid ones, it came boldly out of\nits hole. Miese went very gently up, that she might not startle it by\nhasty movements, stroked its back with a velvet paw, licked its nose\nwith her rough tongue, and said, \u201cCome to my heart, brother, this is\nthe happiest day of my life.\u201d\n\nThe mouse was terribly frightened, but did not show it, and bravely\nendured the caresses of the cat, even timidly returned them. At this\nsight the mice burst into cheers, and a large number of them boldly\napproached the cats. A few minutes later old and young mice were\ncrowding eagerly around the cats, exchanging embraces and kisses with\nthem, racing merrily through the barn, and calling to the more timid\nones, who were cautiously watching this new spectacle from their holes:\n\u201cOut with you all, cowards! The cats are our best friends! You will\noffend them by your reserve! Long live the cats! Hurrah for\nfraternity!\u201d\n\nThis went on for some time, then a young mouse began: \u201cDear brothers\nand sisters! Love for love! Faith for faith! Since the cats have seen\ntheir injustice, we will forgive them without reserve. We will bear\nthem no grudge and, in future, we will be one heart and one soul. Let\nus appoint them honorary mice. Let the difference in parentage be\nforgotten. Let us never reproach them for their origin. We will always\ntreat our honorary mice like brothers, and admit them to the full\nrights of citizenship among us.\u201d\n\nPurr and Murr looked at each other in bewilderment, but Miese cried\nenthusiastically, \u201cWe will always try to show ourselves worthy of the\nname of honorary mice.\u201d An old mouse protested against undue haste, and\nasked that the honorary mice should have their claws gnawed off, before\nthey were admitted to citizenship in the mouse nation; but the young\nmice cried down the old fogy slow coach, reproached him for his\ndistrust, told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, the mouse nation\nmust not be outdone in generosity by the cats, and the motion to bestow\nthe rights of citizenship upon the cats was passed by a very large\nmajority.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d cried several young mice, \u201cwe will celebrate this historic\nhour by a great festival. Come, dear honorary mice, we will share what\nwe have fraternally with you.\u201d\n\nThis invitation greatly pleased the cats, especially Purr, whose\nstomach was complaining, for it was long after his usual hour for\neating. He looked eagerly around, switched his tail to and fro, and\nasked earnestly, \u201cWhere is there anything to nibble?\u201d\n\nThe mice squeaked merrily, and one answered: \u201cDon\u2019t you see it? You\ncertainly have plenty of everything before you.\u201d\n\nPurr sniffed and peered around in all directions, then he answered\nangrily, \u201cI smell nothing, and I see nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it possible?\u201d replied the mouse. \u201cYou are standing in front of a\nwhole mountain of the finest wheat; you see how our whole people are\nfeasting, and you find nothing to satisfy your hunger?\u201d\n\nPurr looked provoked and began to spit. \u201cI suppose you take me for a\nfool,\u201d he growled.\n\nMiese interposed. \u201cDear fellow-citizens,\u201d she said to the mouse, \u201cwe\ncan do nothing with your wheat. It is no food for us.\u201d\n\n\u201cSee the despisers of our fare!\u201d cried a saucy mouse. \u201cYou don\u2019t know\nwhat is good,\u201d exclaimed another. \u201cWhat would you like? Probably a\nyoung mouse?\u201d shouted a third, snappishly. But other mice reproved them\nfor these unfriendly speeches, and turning to the cats, said: \u201cForgive\nthis rudeness, and don\u2019t be offended by it. All sensible mice condemn\nthem. We do not yet know your taste. What do you eat, if you cannot\ntake wheat?\u201d\n\n\u201cCould we perhaps have some beef liver?\u201d asked Miese.\n\nThe mice looked at each other, and answered: \u201cBeef liver? What\u2019s that?\nWe don\u2019t know it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOr a little milk?\u201d said Lise.\n\n\u201cMice do not drink. There is no milk here,\u201d was the reply. \u201cWould you\nperhaps like nuts? They are the most delicious food there is; we\nhaven\u2019t many of them, but we will give them to you gladly.\u201d\n\n\u201cNuts? No,\u201d answered Hinz; \u201cpeople play with nuts, but they don\u2019t eat\nthem.\u201d\n\nThe mice smiled, and one of them said, \u201cPerhaps, if you prefer bacon\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cBacon! Capital! Bring it out!\u201d cried all five of the kittens at once,\njoyously holding their tails straight up in the air.\n\nThe mice eagerly collected a few scraps of bacon, on which the cats\nsprang with such haste that the mice were startled, and ran into their\nholes. In an instant it was devoured, and Purr cried, \u201cMore!\u201d\n\nThe mice, who had looked on in horror, answered: \u201cIs it possible! That\nwas our whole supply for the winter. And you have eaten it at one\nmeal!\u201d\n\n\u201cHold your tongues, you louts!\u201d cried Murr in a rage.\n\nMiese soothed him and, turning to the mice, said: \u201cNo offence. We are\nsomewhat hungry after our long walk. And, to tell the truth, we are\nstill. If you could perhaps tell us where this nice bacon is\u2014\u201d\n\nFor a long time there was no reply. The mice put their heads together\nand whispered. At last an old one said, \u201cIn the farm-house over yonder\nis a garret filled with flitches of bacon.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuick! Let us run over there!\u201d cried Purr.\n\n\u201cGently,\u201d replied the old mouse, \u201cthat won\u2019t do. You can\u2019t get in, for\nthe door is locked. We have dug a passage into the room, but it is too\nnarrow for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen do us the favor to go over yourselves and bring us some bacon,\u201d\nsaid Miese.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll take precious good care not to do that,\u201d cried several mice at\nonce. \u201cThere are two abominable cats in the garret, and we can only\nventure in when these two bloodthirsty murderers have gone out.\u201d\n\nThe cats made wry faces when they heard their relatives spoken of in\nthis way. A mouse noticed it, and said quickly: \u201cYou see, we are doing\nyou the honor of considering you entirely as mice. A harsh word against\ncats cannot offend you, for you certainly have nothing more in common\nwith those miserable bandits.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true,\u201d said Miese. \u201cBut I thought that, for our sakes, you\nwould think somewhat more kindly of the cats and admit that they are\nnot all miserable bandits.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely you would not wish to defend the horrible cat tribe\u2014you, whom\nwe have just made honorary mice?\u201d screamed several mice, excitedly.\n\nMiese saw that the conversation threatened to take a bad turn, and\nremained silent. Meanwhile the mice had finished their banquet and,\ngoing back to their holes well satisfied, bade the cats good night.\nThey were left alone in the barn and, looking at each other in\nperplexity, made all sorts of unpleasant reflections.\n\nHinz was the first to break the silence, \u201cWell, dear honorary mouse,\u201d\nhe asked Miese, \u201chow do you like our new countrymen?\u201d\n\n\u201cPretty fellows,\u201d replied Lise in the same subdued tones; \u201cI would like\nto eat them.\u201d\n\nPurr laughed grimly, \u201cSo would I.\u201d And Murr added, \u201cMiese, you are the\nmost clever one of us all; but to-day, I\u2019m afraid, you have done a very\nfoolish thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me alone,\u201d Miese spit angrily. \u201cOf course, the old humdrum way is\neasier than the bold, progressive one. We are treading entirely new\npaths. We have undertaken a great educational work. So we must have\npatience, and bear some discomfort without grumbling. The poor mice are\nnot lacking in good-will. If some of them still doubt the purity of our\nintentions, we must not wonder at it. This will soon pass away.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut just now my stomach is hollow,\u201d growled Purr.\n\n\u201cWe will learn to eat wheat,\u201d said Miese, and resolutely taking some\ngrains in her mouth began to chew them. But, in spite of the most\ndesperate efforts, she could not swallow them, and secretly spit them\nout. Meanwhile there was no quiet in the holes of the mice. In every\npassage and room they put their heads together, talking in low but\neager tones about the great event. Some said, \u201cThis will come to no\ngood end,\u201d others, \u201cCats will be cats, even if we appoint them honorary\nmice,\u201d and others added, \u201cPerhaps they are spies.\u201d\n\nA young mouse defended the new friends and said, \u201cThe leader of the\nprogressive cats is really a noble creature,\u201d but was interrupted by\ncries from all sides, \u201cIf she isn\u2019t a swindler, if she isn\u2019t sneaking\nin among us with evil designs, she is surely crazy.\u201d\n\nSeveral voices added: \u201cHer brothers have regular murderers\u2019 faces. They\nare tramps, who want us to feed them. All our bacon is gone already; if\nwe could only get rid of them pleasantly.\u201d\n\nBut the mice finally fell asleep; for they were tired and in a safe\nplace. The five hungry cats on their hard beds found the night very\nlong. All thought of their mother\u2019s warm fur and their ample meals, and\nMiese asked herself if the whole mouse nation was worth so much\nprivation and hardship.\n\nWhen day dawned, the rested mice came out of their holes and began to\nattend to their business, without troubling themselves about the five\nsulky kittens. Some were peeling grains of wheat for breakfast, others\nwere cleaning themselves, others still were playing. Lise watched the\nbustle awhile, then she asked impatiently: \u201cWhat does this mean? Are we\nto have no breakfast?\u201d\n\nA mouse answered rudely: \u201cI suppose we ought to feed you with pap, poor\nlittle things?\u201d The others laughed.\n\n\u201cPardon me,\u201d said Miese, gently. \u201cWe belong to you. You cannot let us\nstarve to death.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bore us!\u201d screamed a mouse. \u201cIf you won\u2019t eat wheat, steal some\nmeat from the farmer, or catch birds on the trees and roofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not in earnest,\u201d replied Miese. \u201cTo kill birds would be a\ncrime. Surely we want to have fraternity, love, and virtue reign in the\nworld.\u201d\n\nAll the mice laughed. \u201cTo kill mice is murder; but to catch birds is\nearning one\u2019s living honestly.\u201d\n\n\u201cBravo!\u201d shouted Hinz, in a terrible voice, sprang with a single bound\nupon the mouse which had made this remark, killed it with one bite, and\ndevoured it in an instant, before Miese could prevent him. The mice\nscattered in terror, pursued by Purr and Murr, who each seized a victim\nbefore they could escape into their holes. Scarcely were they safe when\nthey all began to shriek: \u201cTraitors! Murderers! Bandits! Robbers! May\nyou all break your necks! May you be drowned! Vagabond rabble!\nPestilent pack!\u201d\n\nThis was too much for Miese, and she dashed furiously toward the holes,\nbut could not catch a single mouse. \u201cLet us go,\u201d she said, turning to\nher brothers and sister; \u201cnothing sensible can be done with these\nuneducated creatures.\u201d\n\nThey set out on the way to their library, and, after a long walk,\nreached home weary, ashamed, starved, and downcast. The old cat\nreceived them on the threshold with the exclamation: \u201cWhy, here come\nthe runaways! Have you converted the world to your reforms already?\u201d\n\n\u201cMother, give us something to eat; we are almost starved,\u201d said Miese,\nhumbly. \u201cThe world is not yet ripe for our grand thoughts. And the\nmice, especially, are an infamous set of wretches, who must be\nexterminated. We will catch them again to your heart\u2019s content.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ELF CHILD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a large clearing in the midst of a thick\nbeechwood, and in the middle of this clearing was a big, deep pond, on\nwhose shores grew rushes, and on whose surface floated water-lilies. In\nthis pond lived many elves, who slept all through the day on a bed of\nfine sand and soft plants, but in the evening came up to breathe the\nair of the upper world. Then they sat down on the grass in the glade,\nparted and braided their golden hair, wrapped themselves in\nrainbow-colored veils, adorned themselves with pearls and precious\nstones from little mother-of-pearl caskets, ate fruit and honey, drank\ndew and sweet flower juices, and played forfeits and blindman\u2019s-buff.\nDuring the weeks when the nightingale sang and also at other times,\nwhen there was a full moon, they formed into a large ring and danced\nuntil the cock crowed. The gnomes, too, often came from the neighboring\nmountains, and if they were very well behaved, and the elves were in a\ngood humor, they were allowed to dance and play with them until the\ngray dawn drove them home, too. In the meadow where the elves held\ntheir summer festivals, the grass grew more luxuriantly and more\nbeautiful, flowers bloomed in the places where their silver-white feet\nhad floated in dancing. The inhabitants of the wood knew that the glade\nwas used by the elves of the pond for a playground, and timidly avoided\nit; for they were aware that the beautiful water women, though they did\nnot usually trouble themselves about mortals, and did them no harm,\ngrew very angry if they were impertinently watched, or even surprised\nby accident at their games.\n\nNow it happened that there lived in the village at the edge of the wood\na young fellow, who thought of nothing but mischievous tricks and\npractical jokes. When he was a little boy he used to let loose in the\nschool-room and church, beetles, to whose legs he had tied bits of\npaper with pieces of thread. When he grew larger, he sawed the back\nlegs of the schoolmaster\u2019s chair three-quarters through, so that it\nbroke down when the teacher sat in it. When he was a half-grown lad, he\ntied dogs and cats together by their tails, and laughed maliciously\nwhen the poor animals fought furiously with one another. Of course such\na fellow always robbed birds\u2019 nests, and stole fruit from the trees.\nThis rascal had often heard of the elves of the pond in the forest\nmeadow, their dances in the moonlight summer nights, and their sports\nwith the gnomes, and he could not rest until he had seen the merry\npastime with his own eyes. One warm June evening, when the moon was\nfull, he stole through the forest and across the glade to a spot on the\nshore of the pond, where the rushes grew thick, and, hidden among them,\nwaited with some little anxiety for what would happen.\n\nDuring the first hours after sunset he heard nothing except the\ncroaking of the frogs near by, and the bell-like tones of the more\ndistant bullfrogs, and saw in the twilight owls and bats flying\nnoiselessly hither and thither. Just after midnight the moon rose, the\npond and the woodland meadow were lighted almost as brilliantly as day,\nand suddenly the impudent scoundrel cowering among the rushes started,\nalmost frightened to death. Close beside his hiding place a silvery\nlaugh rang out and, at the same moment, a young elf rose from the water\nand clapped her hands loudly. Instantly dozens of other elves appeared\nin the pond, surrounded the first one, shouted joyously, splashed the\nwater till it foamed, dashed drops and streams into one another\u2019s\nfaces, and at last swam swiftly, in a long line, to the shore. There\nthey had apparently concealed clothes and jewels in the bushes, or in\nholes in the ground, for in a short time they glided out of the reeds,\nclad in shimmering, floating veils, and glittering with gems, and\nfrolicked about on the meadow.\n\nThe first elves were young girls. After them came young mothers with\nlittle elf children, many of whom could already walk alone; others fell\ndown when they tried to stand on their small fat legs, and not a few\nwere still on pillows. The mothers who had children at the breast\nnursed them, rocked them in their arms till they fell asleep, laid them\nin the tall grass on the shore, and hurried back to their companions to\njoin their games and ring dancing. One baby in long clothes was laid by\nits mother among the rushes so near the spy that he could almost touch\nit with his outstretched hand. It was as beautiful as the angels in the\npictures of Paradise, more beautiful than any mortal child he had ever\nseen. But he did not look at it long, for the scene in the meadow\nattracted his attention far more strongly. Some were playing\nblindman\u2019s-buff, others tag, others still were dancing or striking\nshuttlecocks, then they all joined in songs with choruses, which\nsounded so sweet that even the hardened rascal in the reeds felt his\neyes fill with tears, and finally they sat down in the grass and amid\njests and laughter began to feast. At this part of the nocturnal\nfestival the gnomes appeared, queer little men with long beards, who\ncame tripping along laden with all sorts of dainties, and were received\nby the elves with shouts of joy. They were allowed to sit on the grass\nbeside them and share their banquet, to which they contributed sweet\nfruit juices and delicious fruit. The water and mountain folk talked\ntogether for several hours, during which time an elf mother ran once or\ntwice to the baby that lay near the rascal, to see if it was sleeping.\nThen the gnomes turned up their noses, beckoned to each other, pointed\nto the sky, where the first dim light of dawn was appearing in the\neast, took leave of the elves with many bows, and skipped hastily off\nto the forest, in which they vanished. The elves, too, felt the morning\nair and prepared to depart. Just at that moment the young rascal was\npossessed by the idea that he would play them a trick. At first he had\nhad such a dread and horror of them that it almost stifled his breath.\nBut after he had watched them awhile, and found them so beautiful and\nmerry, so delicate and dainty, all fear had vanished and he did not\nbelieve that they could do him any harm. So, yielding to his natural\nspitefulness, he crept gently to the elf child, which was sleeping\nsweetly near him with its little fists tightly shut, hastily picked it\nup, and ran with it as fast as he could out of the rushes, across the\nclearing to the edge of the wood.\n\nThe elves saw him as soon as he stood up, and uttered a loud cry. Some\nsprang nimbly into the pond, others hastened to their children to\nprotect them. A shriek of horror told the fugitive that the young elf\nmother had discovered the theft of her child. He turned his head and\nsaw that several elves were pursuing him. Laughing scornfully, he\nincreased his speed in order to reach the forest. Then there was a\nrushing noise in the air, fierce shouts echoed through the glade and\nacross the pond, a strange whistling and hissing were heard, the rascal\nlooked back again, and now he saw a large number of terrible serpents,\nwhich dashed out of the water and chased him with tremendous bounds.\nTerror seized him, he dropped the stolen child, and ran as if Satan and\nall his imps were at his heels.\n\nThough the little elf fell softly on the moss, it was waked by the\nshock, and began to cry piteously. At the same moment a lively cock\nbegan to crow in the distant village, a heart-rending shriek answered\nhim from the woodland meadow, then all was still. The wicked youth ran\non with all his might, and did not stop until he had come out of the\nforest and saw his village before him. He was glad that he had escaped\nfrom the serpents, and did not trouble himself at all about the elf\nchild whom he had left in the woods.\n\nThe cock\u2019s crow had risen on the morning air before the mother had\nreached it, and the elf, in spite of her despair, was obliged to return\nto the pond without her child. The baby remained all alone on its bed\nof moss, weeping loudly, the forest animals came running from every\ndirection to guard it, warm it, and lull it to sleep again. The hares\nsat close about it, the roes surrounded it in close ranks, the\nsquirrels fanned the flies away from it, even a few lynxes which were\nleft in the wood forgot their usual bloodthirstiness against the other\nforest creatures, passed their rough tongues tenderly over the child\u2019s\nlittle face, that they might not hurt its silken-soft skin, and kept\nguard against foxes and badgers, which they would not allow to come\nnear the infant. A hind gave the little elf its milk to drink, and\nafter it was satisfied, it fell asleep.\n\nThe sky gradually brightened and began to glow with the hues of dawn,\nas two dogs, barking violently, ran up to the slumbering child. The\nanimals that were lying and standing around it ran away from the\nbaying, and were pursued for some distance by the dogs, until a shout\nbrought them to a stand. A young forester, who had come into the wood\nwith them before daybreak, called them back, for it was mating time and\nagainst the law to hunt game. The dogs returned and found the elf\nchild, before which they stood a long time, snuffing it, and then, with\nuplifted forepaw, from time to time, giving a loud \u201cwuff.\u201d\n\nThe forester thought that they had found some kind of game, hurried to\nthem, and was greatly surprised to see a sleeping child in the moss. He\nhoped at first that its mother was near, and had the neighborhood\nsearched by his dogs. But, after circling around for a long distance,\nthe intelligent animals returned without having discovered any human\ncreature, so the forester took the child in his arms and carried it\ncarefully to the forest house, five miles away.\n\n\u201cWhat sort of prey are you bringing there?\u201d cried the chief forester in\nastonishment, when his assistant entered his room with the child. The\nyoung man told him that he had found it in the forest, near the elf\npond, and asked what he should do with the foundling.\n\nThe chief forester, who had a sickly wife, numerous children, and a\nsmall house, looked troubled, and said: \u201cIt is certainly a beautiful\nbaby, and I would gladly rear it, but that won\u2019t do; there are plenty\nof us here already. The child must be taken to the orphan asylum.\u201d\n\nAs soon as he spoke, he had his carriage brought, drove to the city\nwith the child, and left it at the asylum. He had not looked at it on\nthe way, that his heart might not be too heavy when he was obliged to\npart with it.\n\nAt the orphan asylum they found that the baby was a little girl.\nEverybody admired its beautiful little face, its dainty limbs, its fine\ncoverlet, pillow, and clothes, and supposed it belonged to an\naristocratic family. No distinction was made between the children in\nthe institution, all were treated alike. The elf child was named Irene,\nfor the saint of the day on which she was found, the garments which\nlooked as if they had been woven from moonbeams were taken from it, a\nlittle shirt and jacket made of coarse, brownish yellow cloth, woollen\nsocks, and a small cap were put on, and she was laid in a very hard bed\nwith another child.\n\nIrene felt the harsh touch of the coarse clothes on her tender skin,\nand began to cry violently. But no one came to her. The children were\nallowed to cry until they were tired and fell asleep. So Irene soon saw\nthat it was useless to grieve, and gradually became used to the rubbing\nof the hard cloth. She was obliged to grow used to many other things\nbesides: to the bottle which she received, instead of her mother\u2019s\nbreast, to being washed rarely and not thoroughly, to being left alone\nfor hours, to having no loving arms clasp, carry, and rock her, or\ntender glances meet her blue eyes, when she gazed around seeking\nsomething, she herself did not know what.\n\nWeeks, months, and years passed away. Irene grew in the usual way. She\ncould soon stand, walk, and run, in doing which she often fell down,\nbumped her forehead, and made her little nose bleed. She learned to\ntalk, and to make dolls out of rags and shavings; for there were no\nplaythings in the orphan asylum, and, before she was five years old,\nshe was obliged to do regularly light tasks, such as picking over\ncoffee beans, shelling peas, and washing vegetables.\n\nThe nurses, teachers, and children in the asylum had always noticed\nthat Irene\u2019s eyes sparkled strangely, as if blue flames were blazing in\nthem; but they thought it was a disease, and had the oculist of the\ninstitution examine them. He gazed a long time into the shining blue\neyes, shook his head, prescribed a harmless eye wash and said it would\npass away in time; the child would outgrow the trouble.\n\nIrene, of course, had not the slightest remembrance of her origin; for\nshe had been too small when the wicked rascal dragged her away. She did\nnot know what it was to rest on a mother\u2019s breast, to be embraced by a\nmother\u2019s arms, to feel the kisses of a mother\u2019s lips. But when on fine\ndays, at recess, she was in the courtyard of the orphan asylum, and\nwent to the fence which separated it from the street, she saw little\ngirls passing by holding their mothers\u2019 hands, and such a longing\nseized upon her that her little heart quivered, and tears ran down her\ncheeks. The other children who were there called her a cry-baby, and\nthe matron threatened not to let her go outdoors any more if she wept\nin that way without any reason; for people in the street would think\nthat the orphan children were badly treated, and the institution would\nget an ill name.\n\nSomething else was noticed, which brought many scoldings and even\npunishment upon Irene. As soon as she went outside of the door, either\nto breathe the fresh air in the courtyard or to walk in a long, dreary\nline with the other orphans, the birds of the sky flew from every\ndirection,\u2014sparrows, swallows, doves, singing birds, crows, even the\nmost timid little birds of prey, such as hawks, sparrow-hawks, and\nkites, fluttered around her head with low cries, swept past her ears as\nif they wanted to whisper something quickly to her in their flight, and\nwould not be driven away from her. The throng of birds frightened the\nother children, so that they scattered screaming. The matron reproved\nIrene for the disturbance, for she was certain that the child did\nsomething to draw the birds, and did not believe her when she protested\nthat it was not her fault. She was considered a sneak and a liar, who,\nin some unknown way, had learned sly, secret arts; and one day the\nsuperintendent of the institution said that Irene was probably a\ngypsy\u2019s child, who was obeying the promptings of her nature; they must\nkeep a sharp eye on her, or she would never amount to anything good;\nthe teachers distrusted her, the children shyly avoided her and, in\nspite of her gentle disposition and her beauty, she was eyed askance by\neverybody in the institution and always left to herself.\n\nLonely, unhappy, and silent, she had nearly reached her eighth year\nwhen one day a little girl of her own age, who in a great railway\naccident had lost father, mother, brothers, and sisters, and was the\nonly one of her family left, was brought to the asylum.\n\nLittle Elizabeth\u2014this was the poor child\u2019s name\u2014was already wise enough\nto understand fully her cruel fate. She had been the spoiled darling of\nher parents, and now she met with nothing but indifference. She had\nlived in comfort, and now learned the meaning of poverty. Instead of\nher pretty clothes, she wore the coarse, shapeless uniform of the\ninstitution. Instead of being dressed and undressed by her loving\nmother, she was obliged to do this for herself, and was scolded if she\nwas clumsy at it. She wept quietly and constantly, until it almost\nbroke Irene\u2019s heart. Timid and reserved as she was to others, she went\nto little Elizabeth, spoke gently to her, and begged her to cheer up.\nBut Elizabeth only shook her head, sobbing: \u201cOh, I cannot, I cannot!\nWhy wasn\u2019t I killed, too? Then I would now be with my mother. I cannot\nlive without my mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, you can,\u201d replied Irene; \u201csee, I have never known my mother; I\nbelieve I never had any. Yet I live.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you have had no mother,\u201d said Elizabeth, through her streaming\ntears, \u201cthen you do not know what it is to lie in her arms, or how it\nfeels when she is gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I do not know,\u201d replied Irene, sadly.\n\n\u201cBut I know,\u201d cried Elizabeth, with a fresh outburst of grief, \u201cand I\ncannot live without my mother. What is the use of living, if nobody\nloves me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will love you,\u201d said Irene, earnestly. Elizabeth looked at her with\nher wet eyes, and threw herself impetuously into her arms.\n\nThis had happened in the dormitory, before the children went to bed.\nOthers had seen how the two hugged each other, and the next day at\nrecess they went to Elizabeth, took her aside, and warned her against\nintimate friendship with Irene. Some called her the little girl with\nthe diseased eyes, others the bird witch, a third the gypsy child. All\nsaid that she was a queer, unsocial creature, whom the teachers and\nmatron did not like. Elizabeth, it is true, did not allow herself to be\nmisled by the little slanderers, but she repeated everything to her new\nfriend. Irene took the evil gossip and the enmity of her companions so\nmuch to heart that she could neither eat nor sleep, and was constantly\nin tears, which prevented her from doing neatly the sewing on which she\nwas now engaged. In punishment the matron locked her up in a dark room.\nElizabeth would not be separated from her, and wept and screamed so\nviolently that she was whipped and also locked up in a room. When she\nwas let out again, she was forbidden to walk or talk with Irene in the\nfuture, and threatened with severe punishment if she did not obey.\n\nIrene met Elizabeth for the first time after her release from the dark\nroom in the dormitory. When she rushed up to her and threw herself into\nher arms, Elizabeth whispered in her ear: \u201cWe must take care, the\nteacher has forbidden me to talk or walk with you or I shall be\npunished. But I will not give you up, even if I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall not be punished on my account,\u201d said Irene, and went away\nfrom her, weeping silently. Both children were unable to sleep that\nnight from sorrow. When all the others were in a sound slumber,\nElizabeth rose softly from her hard bed, stole to Irene\u2019s, and saw that\nshe, too, was lying awake.\n\n\u201cI can bear it no longer,\u201d said Elizabeth, in a low tone.\n\n\u201cNor I,\u201d replied Irene, in the same voice.\n\n\u201cIrene, let us get up and go away.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut where, Elizabeth?\u201d\n\n\u201cWherever our feet may carry us, sister; any place is better than\nthis.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow? This very moment? In the dark night?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. The house is locked now. We cannot get out. But early to-morrow\nmorning when we are dressed. Then it will be light, and the door will\nbe opened and we can run away. Directly after breakfast. Will you,\nIrene?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will, Elizabeth,\u201d said Irene. The two children hugged each other\naffectionately. Elizabeth went back to bed comforted; Irene was\nsomewhat consoled, too, and both fell asleep.\n\nLittle attention was paid in the morning to the children who were large\nenough to dress themselves alone, so it was not difficult for Irene and\nElizabeth to slip unnoticed out of the wash room, beside the dormitory,\ninto the courtyard, and from there into the street. When they were\noutside, they began to run, and kept on straight ahead until they were\ncompletely out of breath. Dogs chased them barking; but when they\nreached Irene, they snuffed at her, wagged their tails, and turned\nback. The two little girls had left the city behind them, and found\nthemselves in the open fields. Seeing that no one was pursuing them,\nthey went more slowly in order to recover their breath.\n\n\u201cOh, dear Irene,\u201d said Elizabeth, \u201chow hungry I am!\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot give you your breakfast, sister,\u201d replied Irene, sadly.\n\nThey were just under a tall tree, where many crows had built their\nnests. Irene had scarcely spoken when the whole flock of crows flew up\nscreaming and vanished in the direction of the city. The children had\nnot gone much farther when they heard above them a great rustling of\nwings and loud bird calls. It was the crows, which, returning from the\ncity, dropped all sorts of things before the children and flew back to\ntheir tree again with the speed of lightning. Elizabeth stooped and\npicked up in paper horns small cakes and juicy cherries. She did not\nstop long to wonder, but divided lovingly with Irene, and both ate till\nthey were satisfied. Then they walked on and on, the sun rose higher in\nthe heavens, it was almost noon, and Elizabeth again began to complain,\n\u201cOh, dear Irene, I am so warm!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo am I, sister,\u201d answered Irene.\n\n\u201cAnd I am so hungry and tired!\u201d Elizabeth went on.\n\n\u201cSo am I,\u201d answered Irene.\n\n\u201cI can go no farther, Irene.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see a wood over there, Elizabeth; let us go to it. We shall find\nshade, and can rest a little while.\u201d\n\nIrene held out her hand to her little friend and, with her help, she\ndragged herself to the edge of the wood, where they threw themselves\ndown in the soft moss under the shade of the first tree. Irene sat down\nby her side, exclaiming, \u201cIf the crows would only come back now, and\nbring us more little horns of cakes and cherries!\u201d\n\nShe had hardly spoken the words when there was a cracking and rustling\nin the underbrush, the bushes parted, and a hind sprang out and stood\nbeside Elizabeth. The child started up with a cry of terror; but Irene\nsaid soothingly: \u201cDon\u2019t be frightened, sister, the animals will do us\nno harm. They have kinder hearts than human beings.\u201d\n\nIn truth, the hind licked Elizabeth\u2019s face with her big tongue, lay\ndown by her side on the ground, and showed her full udder, from which\ndrops of milk were trickling. Then Elizabeth understood that the kind\nanimal wanted to feed her, and she began to suck the teat. When she was\nsatisfied, Irene followed her example. Refreshed by the milk, and\nwearied by the unusually long walk, the heat, and the wakeful night,\nthe two children lay down on the moss, and in a few minutes were sound\nasleep.\n\nWhen they opened their eyes again, they saw the hind, which had kept\nfaithful watch beside them all the time, and now knelt before Irene,\nturned her head toward her, and seemed to be inviting her to get upon\nher back.\n\n\u201cThe dear friend wants to carry us,\u201d said Irene; \u201cwe will ride a\nlittle, Elizabeth.\u201d She helped the little girl to mount the hind. Irene\nclimbed up behind her, and when the animal felt the children on its\nback, it rose and trotted carefully, that they might not lose their\nbalance, into the forest.\n\n\u201cOh, this is nice,\u201d said Elizabeth, sighing; \u201cI could not have walked\nany farther. My legs ache so, and my feet are so sore.\u201d\n\nThey had slept many hours without knowing it, and now the sun was low,\nand the summer day was drawing to a close. The hind pressed farther and\nfarther into the forest, the air grew cooler, the shadows became\ndarker, and suddenly the children reached the wide clearing, where lay\nthe broad pond as smooth as a mirror. The hind knelt down on the shore,\nshook herself a little, so that the children could not help sliding\ngently from her back into the grass, then sprang up, and in a few\nbounds was again in the forest, where she vanished.\n\n\u201cWhat shall we do now?\u201d asked Elizabeth, anxiously.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d replied Irene, softly.\n\n\u201cI am so frightened,\u201d Elizabeth added, hiding her face on her little\nfriend\u2019s breast.\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d asked Irene, stroking her hair caressingly.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s so still and lonely here, and the mists are rising from the\nwater. Night will soon come, and then we shall be all alone in the wild\nwoods. What will become of us? Who will give us anything to eat\nto-morrow? And where shall we find a house and a bed?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be troubled, sister. Perhaps I am really a gypsy child, as our\nnaughty companions called me. I am not afraid in the forest. We shall\nfind our way through it, and the kind animals will help us do so.\u201d\n\nBut Elizabeth shuddered and began to cry. \u201cI am too miserable, sister,\u201d\nshe said, \u201cand life is too hard. I wish I was with my mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere you want to be, I want to be, too,\u201d replied Irene, embracing her\nwarmly.\n\nOwls and bats began to fly noiselessly over the children, and the\nbell-like tones of the bullfrogs were heard.\n\n\u201cIrene,\u201d said Elizabeth, \u201cI will not suffer any longer. Look, the water\nbefore us is deep and cool. I shall sleep well at the bottom. I want to\ngo down there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I will go with you,\u201d answered Irene.\n\nThe two little girls rose, kissed each other, clasped hands, and let\nthemselves slip from the shore into the pond.\n\nJust at this moment the sun set, and at the same time countless elves\nrose with loud shouts from the still water, caught the two children in\ntheir arms, and carried them to the shore.\n\n\u201cAn elf child!\u201d cried one, when she had looked into the sparkling eyes\nof Irene, who was gazing at her in timid surprise. \u201cYour lost little\none, Woglinde,\u201d exclaimed a second. Then Woglinde, with a piercing cry,\nrushed forward, cast one glance at Irene, clasped her impetuously in\nher arms, and, laughing and weeping, covered her with a thousand\nkisses.\n\nIrene now learned for the first time how a child feels in its mother\u2019s\narms. It was so warm! It was so soft! It was so happy! And it was so\nsweet to feel her mother\u2019s kisses on cheeks and lips, eyes and hair,\nand to return them. She understood poor little Elizabeth\u2019s grief at\nlosing this joy, after she had once known it; and after the first\nexchange of caresses with her new-found mother, she gently released\nherself from her arms, saying, \u201cBeautiful mother, let me go to my\nsister Elizabeth, she is all alone.\u201d\n\nThe child was sitting on the shore, dripping wet and trembling, weeping\nquietly. Several elves were standing near, staring at her, and not\nknowing exactly what to do with the little girl. Irene made her way\nbetween them, hurried to Elizabeth, embraced her, and said, \u201cAh,\nElizabeth, I am so happy; just think, I have found my mother in the\nwater.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did not I, too?\u201d wailed Elizabeth, weeping still more violently.\n\n\u201cBe calm, sister,\u201d replied Irene, trying to comfort her. \u201cMy mother\nwill take you, too, and then she will have two children.\u201d\n\nThe elf Woglinde smiled, patted the wet cheeks of the mortal child, and\nwas preparing to take off her dripping garments, as well as her\nIrene\u2019s, clothe them in the glittering elf veils, adorn them with\npearls and rubies, and refresh them with sweet juices. The nightingales\nwere singing, the crickets chirped, the elves stood watching curiously,\nand the gnomes also came up, shaking their bearded heads in\nastonishment and dissatisfaction at this strange adventure.\n\nMeanwhile the elf queen had also risen from the pond with her little\ngold crown in her hair, and while her subjects were dressing her and\nadorning her with jewels, they told her that Woglinde\u2019s stolen child\nhad returned and, with her, a little mortal.\n\nThe queen ordered the two little girls to be brought before her, kissed\nIrene kindly, and said to her in her silver-toned voice: \u201cWelcome to\nyour home, little daughter. We will keep you in the palace below until\nyou have lost the unpleasant human odor. But you must send this little\nmortal child back to her relatives; for we will have no human beings\nwith us.\u201d\n\nWhen Elizabeth heard this, she clung to Irene and whispered in her ear:\n\u201cI will go back into the water again. That is the best place for me.\u201d\n\nBut Irene threw her arm around her neck, and said to the queen: \u201cI will\nnot leave my Elizabeth. If she cannot stay here, I will go with her.\nAnd you will come with us, won\u2019t you, beautiful Mother?\u201d\n\nWoglinde flushed and paled, struggled with herself, and suddenly threw\nherself at the elf queen\u2019s feet. \u201cQueen Mother,\u201d she entreated, \u201cbe\ngracious, make an exception for once. Permit the mortal child to live\namong us.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I cannot do,\u201d replied the queen, raising Woglinde. \u201cIt is against\nthe law of nature, which is our law. No mortal can live among us. Your\nlittle daughter has the choice of parting from her playmate, or giving\nup her elfin rank.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will give it up,\u201d cried Irene, firmly.\n\n\u201cAnd so will I,\u201d said Woglinde, clasping both children in her arms.\n\nA great wailing and lamenting arose among the elves, and a murmur of\ndisapproval among the gnomes. No one thought that night of dancing,\ngames, and banquets. The elf queen tried to change Woglinde\u2019s\nresolution; but when she saw that the elf would not lose her child for\nthe second time, she ordered the gnomes to provide her with an outfit.\nThey obediently hurried away, and instantly returned with a large\nquantity of gold and gems, handsome new mortal clothes, a carriage, and\ntwo splendid horses. The treasures were packed on the carriage,\nWoglinde entered it with the two children, the elf queen, after having\ntaken leave of her, gave her permission to come to her sisters\u2019 summer\nnight festivals, but without the mortal child, and, just before dawn,\nall the elves kissed Woglinde and Irene for the last time, and went\nsorrowfully back into the pond. At the first cock crow the wise horses\nstarted, and, when the sun rose, they were outside of the wood with the\ncarriage and its inmates. They needed neither curb nor whip, but\ntrotted straight to the city and stopped in front of a beautiful house,\nwith a fine garden, which was just for sale. Woglinde bought it with\nher gold, and, when she moved into it, all the birds in the garden flew\nup and greeted her as their mistress. The kitchen tenants, too,\u2014the\nmice and other vermin,\u2014came timidly and wanted to pay their respects to\nher; but as Elizabeth was afraid of these creeping, swarming creatures,\nWoglinde ordered them to leave the house, which they humbly did at\nonce.\n\nThe gnomes\u2019 treasures had made Woglinde a rich lady and, as she was so\nbeautiful and looked so aristocratic, the neighbors thought she was\nsome foreign countess who had moved to their city, invited her to their\nhouses and tried to become acquainted with her. She was soon the most\ncourted lady in the city, was presented at court, and one of the king\u2019s\ncourtiers wanted to marry her. But she only smiled at it, and replied\nthat she did not wish to marry again, but desired to devote herself to\nthe education of her children.\n\nShe used her connections and her influence, however, to discover the\nmalicious rascal, who, years before, had stolen her child. And she\nsucceeded. The youth, meantime, had grown to manhood, and continued to\ndo all the mischief that was possible in the village. Woglinde\ndetermined to punish him as he deserved. Going alone to the forest\nmeadow one night, she begged the queen for more gold. The gnomes again\nbrought a load of it, and Woglinde placed it in the garden of a widow,\nwho was said to be the most spiteful, quarrelsome, shrewish woman in\nthe village. This hateful creature found the treasure in the morning,\nand rejoiced loudly over it. Everybody learned, with the speed of\nlightning, that she had grown enormously rich in a single night, and\nseveral fearless young men hastened, in spite of her evil reputation,\nto sue for her hand. Among them was the good-for-nothing, who thought,\n\u201cI can probably manage you.\u201d She preferred him to the others, married\nhim, and then he was soon made to see that he could not cope with her.\nShe ruled the house, kept him under strict discipline, beat him with\nfists and cane, and tormented him day and night till he was often tired\nof life. This was his punishment for all the miserable tricks which he\nhad played in his youth.\n\nBut Irene and Elizabeth grew up into beautiful girls, and, when they\nwere twenty years old, the elf child married a great artist and\nElizabeth a prince, and though Woglinde often longed for the fairy\npalace at the bottom of the pond, she was on the whole happy in the\nhappiness of her children, both of whom had become equally dear to her.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE RICH DOG AND THE POOR DOG\n\n\nHe was called Rough-leg, and he deserved the name.\n\nHe was probably the very ugliest dog that ever was seen: long-legged,\nrough-haired, with pointed ears lopping down a little at the ends, a\nlong nose, and yellow eyes. Nobody could have told to what breed he\nbelonged. He had the head of a wolf, the legs of a hound, the body of a\nbull-dog, the hair of a Spitz, the bushy tail of a setter, and the\ncolor of a badger dog. He was thin as a herring, and as dirty as a\nsewer cleaner. Matted tufts of hair hung from his body like the rags of\na tramp. His torn ears told tales of many a fierce fight. The violence\nand perseverance with which he bit and scratched showed what an\nunpleasant multitude of hopping brown guests he had in his dirty hide.\n\nBut under this ugly hide Rough-leg had excellent qualities. He was as\nstrong as a bear and as brave as a lion, but he was also faithful as a\ngood dog ought to be, and good-natured, even though he fared very\nbadly, and had every reason to complain of his fate.\n\nFortune certainly did not favor him. He belonged to an old\nscissors-grinder, who went with his cart from village to village. He\nhad to help drag the things for him, and his master gave him very\nlittle to eat, because he usually had nothing himself, but plenty of\nkicks and blows when he wanted to vent on somebody his rage for earning\nso little.\n\nYet Rough-leg always forgave his master for everything. When the old\nfellow was drunk,\u2014and that happened every time he had a few pennies to\nbuy a drop of something strong,\u2014he was kind to Rough-leg, patted him,\nand talked to him like a sensible, beloved companion. And when he had\npoured out his heart to him, he lay down wherever he was, in the grass,\nthe moss in the forest, or in the ditch by the road, and began to\nsnore, while Rough-leg stretched himself beside him, and watched his\nsleep and the cart, which was everything in the world that his master\ncould call his own.\n\nOne evening the old scissors-grinder, after a carouse, again fell\nasleep in the ditch, and did not wake any more, for he was dead.\nRough-leg perceived that there was something strange about his master,\nwhen he no longer heard him snore. He snuffed at him, licked his face,\npushed him with his muzzle, scratched his breast with his paws, and\nwhen the old man, in spite of everything, still lay silent and\nmotionless and began to grow cold, Rough-leg set up such a terrible\nhowling that all the dogs for miles around answered, and very early in\nthe morning people came running up, who saw that the old man had died\nin the night.\n\nThey wanted to take away the body and the cart, but Rough-leg thought\nhe must not allow it, and rushed furiously at everybody who came near.\nThe constable drew his sword, and would certainly have killed him if he\nhad not jumped away from his blows and thrusts. But he did not escape\nthe sticks and stones of the peasants, who beat him unmercifully until\nhe saw that he could do nothing against them. So he no longer tried to\nprevent their taking the body away, and dragged himself off a short\ndistance, badly hurt, whining and moaning as they carried his master to\nthe village churchyard.\n\nThere was not much ceremony over the poor scissors-grinder. After a few\nofficial inquiries, and a little writing, he was put into a grave, and\nthen nobody thought any more about him. Rough-leg had dragged himself\nto the churchyard, and watched behind a tombstone, as they laid his\nmaster in the earth and filled up the grave. When all the people had\ngone, he crept out of his hiding place, went to the fresh mound, and\nbegan with the greatest energy to dig his master out. He had already\nmade quite a large hole when the grave-digger saw him and ran forward\nwith uplifted shovel and loud shouts. Rough-leg saw that he could do\nnothing against the angry armed man, so he limped out of the\nchurchyard, and the grave-digger locked it. It was impossible to jump\nover the wall again, it was too high. He could not stay with his\nmaster\u2019s body, so he went back to the place where he had died, and lay\ndown on the edge of the ditch, determined not to leave the spot.\n\nNear by was a castle with a large garden in front, separated from the\nroad by a fence. Here, surrounded by her servants, lived an old\ncountess, who had a pug-dog, of which she was extravagantly fond. His\nname was Darling; he was yellow, with a black face, and a little short,\nstubby figure. He was a very aristocratic dog. His hair looked well\nkept, for he was bathed, perfumed, brushed, and combed every day. On\nhis left forepaw he wore a gold bracelet, around his neck a white\ncollar with a light blue border, and when he went out, he had a fine\ncloth blanket with a silk lining, on one corner of which a coronet was\nembroidered. If it had rained before his walk, he wore rubber shoes to\nkeep his paws from being wet or muddy.\n\nHe was very handsome in his rich clothes and costly jewelry, but all\nthese fine things gave him no pleasure. They were only troublesome. How\ngladly he would have run barefoot through the puddles, and trotted\nalong in the dust. How gladly he would have shaken off the heavy\nclothes and, with nothing but his smooth skin, raced about like the\nother dogs, whom he envied when he watched them through the fence of\nthe castle courtyard running, jumping, rolling, and romping with each\nother to their hearts\u2019 content. He was not allowed to join them. A\nservant of his own constantly watched to prevent his having any\nacquaintance with strange dogs. His prison was his mistress\u2019s room.\nOnly twice a day would she let him go out a short time in the castle\nyard, under the care of a man, usually on a leash, to get a little\nexercise, breathe the fresh air, etc. These walks were so tiresome that\nhe preferred to stay with the old countess. From lack of exercise, and\nan oversupply of dainties and rich food, he became a shapeless lump of\nfat, grew short-breathed, gouty, and had a perpetual itching of the\nskin, so that, though he was kept so clean, he was obliged to scratch\nas often and as hard as poor Rough-leg, who had never made acquaintance\nwith brush and comb, warm bath or soap.\n\nThe discovery of the dead scissors-grinder in the ditch had brought a\ngreat crowd before the castle fence, and the castle servants had also\nrun out to look. Darling was there, too, pressing his black face, with\nits snub nose and short muzzle, against the rails to see what was going\non. When the people set upon Rough-leg with clubs and swords, and\nalmost broke his bones, the pug was furious, and barked as loud as his\nshort breath would permit. The human beings did not understand, but he\nknew Rough-leg\u2019s faithful heart, and would have gone to help the dead\nman\u2019s friend, whom they so unjustly abused, if he had only been able.\n\nLying on his dark blue velvet cushion in his mistress\u2019s room, he\nthought all day long of the scene which he had witnessed the day\nbefore. The dog outside there was shamefully abused; he was apparently\nof the most humble origin, he was certainly ill-bred, rough, not even\nclean; he was dirty and ragged. But he was much better than he, the\naristocratic pug, the trained and wealthy pet.\n\nThe strange fellow owed his master nothing, for he had not even fed\nhim, his leanness showed that. And yet he was faithful to him unto\ndeath; he would not leave his lifeless body; he would rather endure the\nmost cruel treatment than to neglect his duty as guard. Would he,\nDarling, have been capable of such heroic steadfastness? He perceived\nwith shame that it was doubtful. His mistress spoiled him. She was rich\nand titled. Her rank made every one treat her with respect, and on her\naccount he, too, received the honor due to the pug of a lady of\nquality. She fed him with cake and roast beef. And yet, if she should\ndie, he would not show his teeth at everybody who came near, and he\nwould not expose himself to any special danger of being beaten with\nswords and clubs. These thoughts filled him with self-reproach and, at\nthe same time, with admiration for the ugly cur on the high-road, who\nseemed to him a model of faithful duty.\n\nWhen Darling, attended by his servant, was allowed to go out again into\nthe castle courtyard that evening, he waddled to the fence as fast as\nhis fat and shortness of breath would let him. He at once saw\nRough-leg, who had returned from the churchyard, and was lying in the\nditch with closed eyes, his nose between his forepaws, moaning.\n\n\u201cHere! You! Come over to the fence!\u201d called Darling. Rough-leg took no\nnotice.\n\n\u201cYou are a brave dog! You have my full respect and friendship!\u201d Darling\nwent on. \u201cI must have a chance to press your paw. Unluckily I can\u2019t get\nout to you.\u201d\n\nHe was so unused to talking loud, that it made him cough and at the\nsame time the itching began, which tortured him so much that he fairly\nwrithed, because his fine blanket and handsome collar and harness\nprevented him from scratching to his heart\u2019s content.\n\nRough-leg now raised his head, opened his eyes, and blinked at him.\n\u201cDoes anything ail you?\u201d he asked in his hoarse voice.\n\n\u201cOh, dear, I am so miserable!\u201d replied Darling, piteously, when he had\nrecovered his breath. He took no offence at plebeian Rough-leg\u2019s\nfamiliarity. \u201cBut don\u2019t let us talk about me, but you. I suppose you\nloved your master very much?\u201d\n\n\u201cI had no one but him, and he had no one but me in the whole world. I\nwill not outlive him.\u201d\n\n\u201cListen to reason, my dear fellow,\u201d cried Darling, in horror. \u201cSurely\nyou don\u2019t mean to kill yourself?\u201d\n\nRough-leg made no answer.\n\n\u201cYour master was a poor tramp,\u201d Darling continued.\n\n\u201cLike me,\u201d interrupted Rough-leg, growling.\n\n\u201cWell, then, surely you owe him nothing. He has not been able to do\nanything for you. He is dead. You can\u2019t change that. Now think of\nyourself. What are you going to do?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing. I shall stay here.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the night? On the bare ground? Under the open sky?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m used to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have no rheumatism and no asthma, like me. I should die. And who\nwill give you your food?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody. I want to starve to death.\u201d\n\nDarling pitied the despairing fellow more and more. \u201cBe sensible, dear\nfriend and cousin,\u201d he said. \u201cWe must learn how to find comfort. What\nwould become of us if people took everything so much to heart? I pity\nyou. I\u2019ll do what I can for you. Wait, I\u2019ll bring you something to eat\npresently.\u201d He waddled away from the fence, back into the castle, and\nup to his old countess, from whom he begged. She gave him, as usual,\nwith many pats and loving words, a piece of nice cake. He scarcely\nthanked her by a hasty lick of the hand and a quick wag of the tail,\nand hurried back to the fence, which he reached panting for breath.\n\n\u201cHere, friend, I have something good for you. But you must come into\nthe courtyard to me. I can\u2019t get out,\u201d he called to Rough-leg, who was\nstill lying just where he had left him.\n\nRough-leg rose and came slowly forward. Darling\u2019s sympathy cheered him\na little in his loneliness. When he reached the fence, Darling pushed\nthe bit of cake under it and wagged his tail eagerly. He was rejoicing\nto think how nice the dainty would taste to the poor, starved fellow.\nRough-leg drew it out with his paw, snuffed at it, and then left it.\n\n\u201cWho can eat such stuff as that?\u201d he growled.\n\n\u201cBut that\u2019s cake, my dear fellow!\u201d cried Darling, in astonishment;\n\u201cthat\u2019s the very nicest thing there is!\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know anything about it. It\u2019s not fit for sensible dogs. If you\nhave a bone, I should like it. If not, leave me alone.\u201d\n\nDarling shook his head, but went back into the castle, looked into the\ngarbage pail, which he usually was not allowed to meddle with, and\nfound a big bone, which he dragged to the fence. \u201cHere is a bone, since\nyou want it,\u201d he said; \u201cbut I can\u2019t understand how you can do anything\nwith this dry, hard thing.\u201d\n\nRough-leg made no reply. He raked the bone out from under the fence\nwith his strong paws, broke it in two with one bite, cracked and\nsplintered it, and, in the shortest possible time, reduced it to very\nsmall pieces and swallowed it. Darling watched the work of his new\nfriend\u2019s powerful wolf jaws with mingled admiration and horror. When\nthe latter had finished, he turned toward the fence, licked Darling\u2019s\nmuzzle with his big tongue, and muttered: \u201cThank you. You are a good\nfellow.\u201d\n\nDarling\u2019s heart leaped with joy. \u201cAh, if I could only get out to you!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, then,\u201d answered Rough-leg.\n\n\u201cI dare not,\u201d whined Darling, looking round anxiously for his servant\nwho, luckily for him, was just talking with one of the countess\u2019s\ncoachmen, without noticing the pug placed in his care.\n\n\u201cAre you not ashamed to be such a timid fellow?\u201d cried Rough-leg. \u201cThe\nidea of a dog\u2019s allowing himself to be forbidden a little run.\u201d He\nturned as if to go away.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go,\u201d called Darling. \u201cI will try to slip out.\u201d\n\nHe went cautiously to the gate, which was only ajar, and, seeing that\nthe servant was still talking, he ventured to steal out.\n\n\u201cNow run,\u201d said Rough-leg, breaking into a long, swift trot. Darling\ntried with all his might to keep up with him. But he could not do it.\nAfter a few minutes he fell breathless on the ground and writhed there\npanting and moaning. Rough-leg looked at him a moment scornfully, and\nyet compassionately, seized him by the skin of the neck, and carried\nhim along in his mouth, as a mother dog does her puppies. It seemed to\ngive him no more trouble than if Darling had been a feather. He ran on\nuntil the castle was entirely out of sight, then set him on the ground\nand wagged his tail kindly.\n\n\u201cHow good you are,\u201d sighed Darling, who had recovered his breath while\nin his friend\u2019s mouth. But now the excitement brought on the itching\nagain, and he scratched piteously, yet without success, on account of\nthe cloth blanket and other things he had on his body.\n\n\u201cBooby,\u201d growled Rough-leg, after watching him awhile.\n\nHe rushed upon Darling so violently that he frightened him and, with a\nfew bites, tore the fine blanket and collar from his body in ribbons,\nbroke the bracelet from his paw with one snap, and said, \u201cThere, now\nyou look like a decent dog again, and I need not be ashamed of being\nseen in your company.\u201d\n\nDarling had never felt so comfortable since he could remember. He could\nscratch himself to his heart\u2019s content, and already the itching was\nless because he was entirely undressed and the fresh air blew freely\nall around him. Yet, glad as he was, he thought with a few pangs of\nconscience of his old mistress, and murmured\u2014\u201cWhat will they say at the\ncastle?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can go back there, if you repent,\u201d replied Rough-leg, harshly,\nmoving as if he were going to trot along.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go away,\u201d Darling begged anxiously. \u201cDon\u2019t leave me alone, I\nshall be lost without you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen hold your tongue, and come.\u201d\n\nIt had grown dark. Rough-leg\u2019s bones still ached from the beating he\nhad had, he was tired out, and he saw that his companion was exhausted.\nSo leading him to a hay-rick in a ploughed field, he said, \u201cWe\u2019ll spend\nthe night here.\u201d He dug out a hole in the hay, pushed the tender\nDarling in, and lay down before him. Darling slept better than he had\never done before. It was very different lying on the hay from being on\na velvet cushion in a curtained, closed apartment. He scarcely felt\neven the pains in his limbs, because his friend had warmed him with his\nbig, strong body.\n\nWhen he woke early in the morning, he felt like another dog. \u201cYou are a\nwonderful fellow, Rough-leg,\u201d he said, licking his long, rough muzzle\ngratefully. \u201cBut I don\u2019t know what ails me\u2014I feel so queer around my\nstomach\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are hungry, simpleton, and so am I,\u201d replied Rough-leg.\n\nHungry! That was a feeling which Darling had never known, or had\nforgotten long ago. It gnawed very sharply, but it was far, far\npleasanter than the repugnance which his rich, costly food at the\ncastle had inspired.\n\n\u201cWhere shall we find anything to eat?\u201d asked Darling.\n\n\u201cYou must go and look,\u201d was the short answer. He snuffed a little\naround the hay-rick, then suddenly made a spring and drew out of a\nhidden sparrow\u2019s nest a peeping young bird, which he killed with one\nbite and tossed to the wondering Darling.\n\n\u201cThere, eat it,\u201d he cried, and himself devoured the rest of the brood,\nwhich still remained in the nest.\n\nThen the two went to a neighboring farm-house, and Rough-leg began to\nrummage in the dung-heap.\n\nDarling was just going to follow his example, when out rushed the house\ndog, barking furiously, and threw himself on the pug, which with a cry\nof terror, fell on the ground under the shock. In an instant Rough-leg\nwas by his side, and a fierce fight began, in which the farm dog was\nsoon beaten. Off he ran with bleeding ears and lips, howling piteously.\n\n\u201cYou have saved my life,\u201d groaned Darling, as they hurried out of the\nyard.\n\n\u201cNonsense!\u201d said Rough-leg, but he ran his tongue tenderly over the\npug\u2019s black face.\n\nA new life, which he had never known before, began for Darling. He\ncould do just as he pleased, he was always in the open air, he trotted\nuntil he was tired, and lay down to rest wherever he happened to be. He\noften fared badly in regard to food. He had to take just what he could\nget! in the best case boiled turnips some cow had dropped from her\ntrough; in the worst, bones picked up on some dung-heap. But this poor\nand scanty living, from which he would formerly have turned aside with\nloathing, seemed excellent, and even dainty, because he saw how much\nRough-leg enjoyed it. The two friends were often obliged to fight the\nvillage curs; but this no longer frightened Darling, for he knew that\nhe could depend on Rough-leg. His health daily improved. His rheumatism\nand the intolerable itching disappeared, he lost flesh, and, with the\nextra flesh, his shortness of breath vanished; he could vie with\nRough-leg in running, and soon made such progress that, to his joyful\nsurprise, he could help a shepherd, who was driving a flock of sheep\nover a cross-road, as well as his nimble Pomeranian, which could not\nmanage the work alone. The shepherd wanted to keep him, but this did\nnot suit Darling. \u201cWhen I want to enter service, I will go back to my\nmistress,\u201d he said, and went off with Rough-leg. In the castle the\npeople were inconsolable over Darling\u2019s disappearance, the servant who\nhad not watched him properly was dismissed at once, and the countess\nadvertised that she would pay a large reward to any one who returned\nher pug. But no one brought him, because he was not recognized from the\ndescription which mentioned his fine blanket, collar, and bracelet. But\nDarling thought of the old countess, and Rough-leg of his dead master,\nand, after about a fortnight, the pug said one morning, \u201cSuppose we\nshould go and see how things are at the castle.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d Rough-leg answered, and the two trotted straight toward\nthe castle. They were obliged to run many hours before they reached it.\nWhen they arrived, the gate stood open, and Darling walked boldly in.\nThe servants did not recognize him, for he was as slender and active as\na greyhound, and as dirty as a pig which had just come out of the mire.\nBut his eyes were bright, his nose was moist, and his bark was as loud\nand long as the alarm bell in the steeple. They tried to drive him\naway, but he rushed upstairs to the old countess\u2019s room and scratched\nat her door. When she heard the familiar sound, she uttered a cry of\njoy, started up, and opened it as quick as she could. Darling jumped up\non her and, barking loudly in his delight, licked her face. But she\npushed him away in horror, for he smelled so badly and was so terribly\nneglected. She called for perfume and a warm bath, but Darling ran\nswiftly away. He would not have them any more, nor his fine clothes,\ngingerbread, and velvet cushions.\n\nRough-leg was lying outside in the ditch, waiting to see whether his\nrich friend would forget him or come back to him. In a few minutes\nDarling returned. \u201cWon\u2019t you go into the castle with me?\u201d he cried\njoyously.\n\n\u201cYes, so that they can break my limbs or chain me up,\u201d growled\nRough-leg.\n\n\u201cThey must kill me first,\u201d answered Darling, urging him along.\n\nAt first the people in the courtyard wanted to ill-treat the ugly tramp\ndog. But Darling covered him with his body, and they saw that he was\nhis friend. The case was reported to the countess, who looked out of\nher window at the ugly, strong, strange dog; the affection her pug\nshowed him touched her, and she ordered the servants to let him stay\nwith Darling. The pug was obliged to allow himself to be thoroughly\ncleaned, but he would not lead his former life. So he was permitted to\nwander about the courtyard and high-road with Rough-leg, and only came\nfor a quarter of an hour every morning and evening to the countess,\nwho, however, could not bear his smell, and in spite of his caresses,\nwas glad when he went away again. Darling and Rough-leg always remained\nthe best of friends, and the former often said: \u201cI, the insolent rich\ndog, owe to you, the poor fellow, health and life. If the rich would\nonly always make the poor their friends!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be a good thing for both,\u201d growled Rough-leg, in his deep\nvoice.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE GIRL WHO TRAVELLED IN THE BIG SHIP\n\n\nOnce upon a time a steamer was going from Hamburg to South America. The\nship was as large as a street of sixty houses. Hundreds of people were\nin her: sailors and stokers, poor emigrants, and rich ladies and\ngentlemen. Among them, too, was a little girl about five years old,\nwith the dearest little round face and two short braids. Her name was\nRieke, and she was the child of a young couple, who had not been very\nwell off at home in Mecklenburg, and were going to Argentina. The\nfather was sitting on a coil of rope in one corner of the ship, where\nhe was out of the way of the sailors moving to and fro, studying\nSpanish, and the mother was busy nursing a very little sister of Rieke.\nDuring the first two or three days after leaving the Elbe, Rieke stayed\nwith her mother. She did not yet feel at home on the ship, and was a\nlittle afraid of the engines, the various things she had never seen\nbefore, and all the strangers. Besides, she had been a little seasick,\nand was obliged to keep quiet, that she might not be ill. When she felt\nbetter and the cargo was stowed away, everything in order, and the\nsteamer far out in the open sea, she ventured to leave her mother\u2019s\nside and look about on board.\n\nClimbing carefully up the iron stairs, she reached the deck. In the\nbow, that is, at the front end, she stood still and let her bright blue\neyes wander curiously from the water to the sky, and from the masts to\nthe wheel. The sailors did not trouble themselves about her, for they\nhad other things to do. Only one old man suddenly noticed her, fixed\nhis eyes sharply upon her, and cried, \u201cHello, little girl, what are you\ndoing here?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am travelling, and this is my ship,\u201d she answered fearlessly.\n\nThe man burst into a loud laugh, slapped his thigh with the palm of his\nhand till it smacked, and cried over and over again: \u201cJust look at the\nHop-o\u2019-my-Thumb! Such a little girl needs such a big ship to travel\nin!\u201d\n\nThen, taking her by the arm, he led her to the foremast to measure her.\nRieke did not even reach to the iron ring which surrounds it near the\nfoot. She was no taller than the leg of a riding-boot.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s enough to make one laugh till one is crooked,\u201d said the old\nsailor. And the mast, which had looked on, really began to laugh itself\ncrooked and rocked to and fro, creaking and groaning, and the flag\nwhich waved at the top, that is, at the masthead, also shook with\nmerriment, and both of them, in their rustling, squeaking language,\ntold the wheel about the little girl who was travelling in the big\nship. The wheel laughed till it turned and rolled so that two steersmen\ncould hardly keep it steady, and it told the news to the davits,\u2014the\ncurved iron rods from which the life-boats hang over the edge of the\nship,\u2014and the davits told the boats which they carried, and the boats\ntold the fat, merry porpoises which were swimming beside the ship to\nsnap up any scraps, and the porpoises gossiped about it, and so it was\ntalked over far and wide in the sea, till the merman and his daughters\nheard of it too; and they were all curious to see the funny little girl\nwho was travelling in the big ship. But they had to wail till night,\nfor so long as it is light, they cannot come up, because they don\u2019t\nwish to be seen by grown people. They don\u2019t mind children.\n\nMeantime, little Rieke had no idea that there was so much talking about\nher on the ship, in the air, and in the water. So she left the old\nsailor, who laughed heartily as he looked after her, to continue her\nvoyage of discovery on board. She gazed in astonishment at the\nsmoke-stacks, which looked as wide and as high as towers; she peeped\ntimidly down the engine shaft, where huge steel rods were moving\nnoisily up and down; glanced at the bridge, and at last reached a\nstaircase in the middle of the ship\u2014a staircase with a costly carpet,\nand shining gilt railings on both sides.\n\nRieke hesitated a moment, then she boldly went down the steps and into\na large room, more beautiful than any she had ever seen in all her\nlife. Mirrors and pictures hung on the walls; a thick carpet, into\nwhich the feet sank as if it were soft moss, covered the floor. Ladies\nand gentlemen were sitting in easy chairs or on sofas talking together,\nor reading books and newspapers. Rieke was standing near the door,\ngazing at all the splendid things she had never seen before, when a man\nin uniform, apparently a servant, came up and asked roughly, \u201cWhom do\nyou want here?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody,\u201d replied Rieke, shyly.\n\n\u201cThen be off. No one is allowed here except the first-cabin\npassengers.\u201d The man saw very plainly that the little girl was not\ntravelling first-class, for she wore poor, shabby, though clean,\nclothes.\n\nRieke did not instantly understand what the cross servant wanted her to\ndo, so she made no movement to leave the cabin. The rough man seized\nher rudely by the arm to lead her out. Rieke was not used to such\ntreatment; for she was so pretty and gentle and polite that people were\nalways kind to her. She began to cry, and said, \u201cLet me go, you hurt\nme.\u201d\n\nAn elderly lady, sitting on the sofa, had seen all that had happened,\nand called to the child, \u201cCome to me, little one.\u201d\n\nNow the servant had to release her. Rieke went to the lady, who patted\nher fair little head, wiped her eyes and cheeks with a fine lace\nhandkerchief, and questioned her about her home and her parents. Rieke\nwas not at all shy, but answered plainly and sensibly. Other passengers\ncame up, and, pleased with the brightness of the beautiful child, they\nall wanted to talk with and pet her. Among them was an Argentine\nlandowner, who was going home with his wife. Their only child had died,\nand they went to Europe to try to escape from their sad thoughts.\n\n\u201cIt is strange,\u201d said the gentleman to his wife, who wore deep\nmourning, \u201cthat poor people have such beautiful, healthy children, and\nwe rich ones such delicate, frail darlings, whom we cannot bring up.\u201d\n\nThe lady in mourning made no answer, but she thought of her dead child,\nher eyes filled with tears, and, drawing the little one to her side,\nshe kissed her again and again.\n\nAn hour passed. Rieke\u2019s parents became anxious because she did not come\nback, and her father went to look for her. He asked here and there if\nany one had seen her, and, after many questions, he found out that she\nwas in the first cabin. He knew that a poor steerage passenger, like\nhimself, would not be allowed to enter it, so he asked a sailor to\nbring his little girl. The sailor told the cross servant, and the cross\nservant went into the cabin and said to Rieke, \u201cYou must come to your\nfather, he is waiting for you outside.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, what a pity!\u201d murmured the old lady who had first noticed the\nchild.\n\n\u201cCome back again very soon, directly after dinner,\u201d added the lady in\nmourning.\n\n\u201cThe little girl mustn\u2019t come in; it is strictly forbidden,\u201d answered\nthe servant, sharply. His words caused a great uproar, especially among\nthe ladies. \u201cWe won\u2019t allow it!\u201d cried one. \u201cWe will have the child\nhere!\u201d exclaimed a second. \u201cThree weeks without a single child is far\ntoo long,\u201d said a third.\n\n\u201cThen you must go into the steerage, or speak to the captain,\u201d replied\nthe man, trying to lead Rieke away.\n\n\u201cLet her go,\u201d said the Argentine landowner, and, taking Rieke by the\nhand, he went upstairs where her father was waiting. He wanted to see\nhim. He found a respectably-dressed young man who pleased him at once.\nEntering into conversation with him, he perceived that he had to deal\nwith a modest, sensible, well-educated person.\n\n\u201cWhat are you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI am a farmer.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what do you want to do in Argentina?\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall look for a position as manager of an estate. If I prosper, and\nmake a little money, I shall perhaps later buy or lease a farm of my\nown.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s the very thing,\u201d said the landowner. \u201cI want a capable manager,\nand I prefer a German. If you suit me, you can do well in my employ.\u201d\n\nThe little girl\u2019s father gladly accepted the offer. It relieved him\nfrom all anxiety, especially as the Argentine gentleman promised a\nlarger salary than he had hoped to receive, and proposed to have a\nwritten agreement made at once. He wanted to hurry off to his wife to\ntell her the good news, but the landowner stopped him.\n\n\u201cOne thing more. My wife wants to have your little girl with her while\nwe are on the ship. But we do not wish to separate her from her\nparents. So you must all move over to us. You will permit me to make\nyour little Rieke a present of the necessary tickets?\u201d\n\nThe change was quietly arranged with the captain, the little girl\u2019s\nparents were moved to a largo, airy stateroom, with a round window\nlooking out upon the sea, and at dinner sat like princes at the\nfirst-cabin table, Rieke beside the lady in mourning, who put the\ndaintiest morsels on her plate and gave her almost too much, so that\nher mother was obliged to watch carefully, that she might not be made\nill.\n\nAfter dinner all the passengers amused themselves with the child, who\nwent from one to the other, talking with everybody whose language she\nunderstood. Among them was the head of a museum of ethnology, who had\ncome to Europe to buy curiosities for his collections. He invited the\nwhole company into his stateroom to show them his treasures. He\nexplained the weapons, utensils, and ornaments of the ancient and\nmodern peoples; but modestly confessed that he also had many things\nwhose use he did not know. Taking up an oddly shaped bit of ivory,\ncovered with carved lines, he said: \u201cLook, I don\u2019t know what this is.\nProbably it may be a porridge spoon; but perhaps it is the badge of\nsome unknown rank.\u201d\n\nRieke began to laugh, exclaiming, \u201cWhy, that\u2019s a shoe-horn.\u201d\n\n\u201cA shoe-horn?\u201d replied the scholar in astonishment. \u201cThat is\nimpossible. The people who made this article probably wore no shoes.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it is a shoe-horn,\u201d Rieke persisted, and the ladies all agreed\nwith her. The director, shaking his head, examined the article again\nvery carefully, and saw in one corner a drawing which he had not\nnoticed before. It represented a savage, with feathers in his hair and\nshoes on his feet, which probably could not have been put on without\nthe help of a horn.\n\n\u201cYou are right, little one,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd since you are so clever,\nperhaps you can tell me what this one is, too.\u201d He gave her, with a\nsmile, a wooden object which looked like an ordinary cross.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s a cross,\u201d remarked a passenger, who was standing near.\n\n\u201cIt can\u2019t be,\u201d replied the scientist, \u201cfor it is a thousand years older\nthan Christianity.\u201d\n\nRieke took the mysterious article in her hand, looked at it a moment,\nand said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThat is a winder.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is a winder?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know? It\u2019s the cross people wind yarn on to make a ball.\nElse how can you knit?\u201d\n\n\u201cBe polite,\u201d her mother said; but the scholar cried joyfully, \u201cNever\nmind, the child is perfectly right to laugh at me a little because I am\nso ignorant.\u201d And, turning to Rieke, he added, \u201cI thank you, little\ngirl; I have learned from you gladly.\u201d\n\nAfter supper Rieke and her parents went back to their stateroom, where\nit was so much more pleasant than in the steerage. As the sea was calm,\nand the weather warm, Rieke\u2019s mother let her open the little round\nwindow and put out her head. As soon as her face appeared, a voice\noutside called, \u201cThere is the little girl who travels in the big ship.\u201d\n\nShe looked around curiously, and saw the merman with his long beard\ncalling his daughters out of the water, that they might see the little\ngirl, too. Three, four, five girls\u2019 heads appeared, shaking back long,\nwet, green hair; their hands came above the surface of the sea, too,\nand clapped, and the mermaids cried, \u201cLook at the pretty little girl\nwho travels in the big ship.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll give her something,\u201d said the merman.\n\n\u201cYes, yes, yes,\u201d screamed the mermaids, diving down so quickly that the\nwater gurgled. The next minute they were back again, and handed their\nfather all sorts of things, which he passed up to the window on the\nforked end of a long piece of coral.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid,\u201d he said; \u201ctake them for a keepsake from my\ndaughters. They were once little girls like you.\u201d\n\nThe first one gave her a mother-of-pearl shell, the second a branch of\nred coral, the third a pearl, the fourth a long, curved narwhale tooth,\nand the fifth a soft, wet, shapeless thing, which at first she did not\nwant to touch. But the merman pushed it quickly through the window with\nhis coral staff; then there was loud laughing outside by many voices,\nafter which all became still, and nothing more was heard of the merman\nand his daughters.\n\nRieke\u2019s father pulled the wet thing into the window, and, looking at\nit, saw that it was the rolled-up skin of some unknown creature. He\nopened it, and was astonished at its great length and width. It had\nqueer green and black spots, long spines on the back, a red crest on\nthe neck, and the head ended in a snout like a turtle\u2019s. He rolled it\nup again, intending to show it to his fellow-passengers.\n\nThe next day, when they heard that the merman had talked with the\nlittle girl the night before and given her all sorts of beautiful\nthings, everybody wanted to see the presents. The ladies particularly\nadmired the pearl, but when the snakeskin was unrolled, a young man\nfairly leaped into the air, exclaiming:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe sea-serpent! The famous sea-serpent, in which people would not\nbelieve. Now we have it! Hurrah! We have the sea-serpent!\u201d This young\nman was a naturalist, on his way to South America to try to make some\ndiscovery in the vast forests. He wanted to become a professor, so that\nhe could marry a young girl, whose father would not give his consent\nbecause the lover was not a famous man, and had neither office nor\ntitle. The young naturalist told Rieke\u2019s father this, and begged him to\nsell him the sea-serpent\u2019s skin. For if he could describe and make a\npicture of it, and have a book published about it, he would become\nfamous at once, and would certainly be a professor, and could marry the\ngirl to whom he was engaged.\n\n\u201cTake the serpent\u2019s skin,\u201d said Rieke\u2019s father; \u201cI will give it to you,\nand may it bring you good fortune.\u201d\n\nThe young man insisted upon paying for it, until Rieke\u2019s father grew\nalmost angry. \u201cI will not sell the skin for money. Every one ought to\nhelp his neighbor as he can.\u201d\n\nThe young man already saw himself sure to win his bride, and could not\nkeep his happiness secret. He told every one of the change in his fate,\nand what he owed the little girl who was travelling with them. A\ngentleman who had been very silent and did not join the others, drew\nRieke to his side, smoothed her fair hair, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cTell me, what shall I do to get a little girl just like you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHaven\u2019t you any?\u201d answered Rieke.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the gentleman.\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I am not married.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, get married,\u201d cried Rieke, so loud that everybody heard\nher and began to laugh.\n\n\u201cYes, but whom shall I marry?\u201d\n\nRieke looked around, pointed to a young lady sitting modestly in a\ncorner, and said: \u201cMarry her. She is beautiful and good.\u201d\n\nThe young lady blushed, the passengers laughed, and the gentleman went\nup to her and begged her pardon for having unintentionally embarrassed\nher. In this way they became acquainted. It turned out that the\ngentleman was a very rich man who had nothing to do, and did not know\nhow to dispose of all his money, so he went travelling over the world\nto pass away the time. The young lady was an orphan, going to an aunt\nin Brazil, so that she might not have to live alone. When they had\ntalked together, and become better acquainted, they liked each other,\nand, three days later, the gentleman called the little girl and said:\n\u201cWell, Rieke, I have taken your advice. I am going to marry the\nbeautiful, good young lady.\u201d Rieke ran joyfully to her parents and told\nthem the news, so everybody heard of the engagement, in whose honor the\ngentleman gave the sailors a great feast, with singing and dancing, so\nthat pleasure reigned through the steamer, and people said, \u201cIt\u2019s very\nplain that there is a little girl travelling on the big ship.\u201d\n\nThe elderly lady who had first taken little Rieke\u2019s part when the cross\nservant tried to put her out of the cabin continued to be her best\nfriend, and wanted to have her always near, so that the lady in\nmourning really grew jealous and said very seriously: \u201cYou must let me\nhave the little girl part of the time. Her company consoles me a little\nfor the child I have lost.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have lost my only child, too,\u201d replied the old lady, sadly.\n\nThe wife of the Argentine landowner wished to hear about it, but at\nfirst the other would not speak freely. At last, however, she was\npersuaded to tell the whole story. She had an only child, a grown\ndaughter. And she had lost her, but not by death. The daughter had\nmarried, against her mother\u2019s will, a man whom she did not want for a\nson-in-law. In punishment for such disobedience, she would have nothing\nmore to do with her, and told every one that she no longer had a child.\nBut she knew very well that this was not right, and she secretly longed\nfor her only daughter, whom she had treated so harshly. True, she would\nreceive no letters from her nor hear anything else about her, yet she\nhad learned that she had a little girl with fair hair and blue eyes.\nThe child must now be just about Rieke\u2019s age, and doubtless quite as\npretty and amusing. The old lady could not help thinking constantly\nabout this grandchild, when Rieke was playing by her side and talking\nwith her, and whenever she embraced and kissed the child, which she did\nvery often, she fancied she clasped her own little grandchild in her\narms.\n\nWhen the lady in black had heard this story, she urged her to forgive\nher daughter at once; and Rieke, who had heard everything that was\nsaid, and understood most of it, exclaimed at the same time: \u201cYes, yes,\nyou must forgive your daughter and let your grandchild come here. I\nwant to see her and play with her. I\u2019ll give her something, too,\u2014my\nshell, or my pearl, or my coral, or whatever she wants. Only not my\nnarwhale tooth. I suppose that\u2019s too big for her.\u201d\n\nTears filled the old lady\u2019s eyes, and, clasping Rieke in her arms, she\nsaid: \u201cYou are right, dear. I will do what you ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut this very minute!\u201d said Rieke.\n\n\u201cThat cannot be,\u201d replied the lady, smiling through her tears, \u201cbut as\nsoon as we land.\u201d\n\nRieke was satisfied, and the lady in mourning congratulated the old\nlady because she would now find her lost daughter and have a dear\nlittle grandchild, too. The story of the mother\u2019s forgiveness of her\nonly daughter became known among the passengers, and the gentleman who\nwas engaged to the orphan said: \u201cRieke, you are surely the angel of\npeace. Suppose you try to make peace for some one else.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom?\u201d asked the child.\n\n\u201cDo you see those two gentlemen over there, one in the right corner and\nthe other in the left?\u201d\n\nRieke looked and answered, \u201cYes.\u201d She had known them a long time, and\nhad noticed that they never spoke to each other, never went near each\nother, and always managed to have the whole length or width of the\ncabin between them.\n\n\u201cWell, those two gentlemen are the presidents of two South American\nrepublics.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d asked Rieke.\n\n\u201cIt would take too much time to explain it,\u201d said the gentleman. \u201cThe\ncountries of those two presidents have been enemies a long while, many\nyears, and people say that they want to make war on each other. Then a\ngreat many men will be wounded and killed.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle girls, too?\u201d asked Rieke, in terror.\n\n\u201cLittle girls, too,\u201d replied the gentleman. \u201cSo go and beg the two\npresidents not to make war, but be friends with each other.\u201d\n\nRieke did not wait to be asked twice. She went to the younger one, who\nlooked more good-natured and had smiled at her once, and told him how\nterrible it would be to wound and kill people, especially little girls,\nand he ought not to make war. Rieke spoke German, and the gentleman\nunderstood nothing but Spanish, so he listened, smiling, and asked his\nneighbors what the pretty child wanted. An interpreter was at once\nfound, who faithfully translated the little girl\u2019s words. Then the\ngentleman patted Rieke\u2019s cheeks, saying, \u201cTell all that to my colleague\nover there.\u201d\n\nRieke seized the president\u2019s hand and, though at first he resisted, she\ndrew him with her to the other corner, and repeated to the second\ngentleman her entreaty for peace. The second gentleman was old, and\nlooked gloomy. At first he frowned when the little girl\u2019s words were\nrepeated to him. But as the first gentleman had bowed politely when he\ncame up, he was obliged to return it, and Rieke would not go until she\nhad received some kind of a reply. The eyes of all the passengers were\nfixed upon him, and unless he wanted them to take him for a very rude\nfellow, he could do nothing except stroke Rieke\u2019s hair, too, and say\nwith rather a sour smile, \u201cLittle girls don\u2019t understand such things.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d Rieke persisted, taking hold of the gloomy man\u2019s hand and\nputting it into the other president\u2019s. The two began to talk together,\nat first stiffly, then more and more cordially, and, after some time,\nthey both went to the older one\u2019s stateroom. From that hour they were a\ngreat deal in each other\u2019s company, sat side by side at table, and\nafter several days the good news spread through the steamer that the\ntwo presidents had become friends, and there would be no war between\ntheir countries. The captain ordered a salute to be fired in honor of\nthe event, the crew had another feast and more presents, and everybody\non board, both passengers and sailors, perceived that the little girl\nwas the most important person on the big ship.\n\nThe carpenters hammered and carved for the little girl in the big ship\na small ship with a big girl in it, and when, a few days after, the\nsteamer reached South America, they gave it to her for a remembrance of\nher first sea voyage, on which she had won the good-will of the merman\nand his daughters, obtained a good place for her father, explained to\nthe director of a museum the use of his ancient things, helped a\nscholar to secure fame, a professorship, and a wife, aided an old\nbachelor to become engaged to a beautiful orphan girl, persuaded a\nmother to forgive her daughter, and made peace between two hostile\ncountries. Was not that a voyage well worth remembering?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE NAUGHTY BROTHER AND THE CLEVER SISTER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were two children, a little boy and a little\ngirl, who belonged to poor people, a locksmith, who worked in a\nmachine-shop, and his wife, who attended to her housekeeping and took\nin washing. The father was never at home, except on Sundays and\nholidays, and the mother had too much to do to look after the children.\nSo they were usually left to themselves, and grew up like nettles on a\nrefuse heap. The boy was wild and careless, and would not do as he was\ntold. He wandered far outside of the city, and did not come home at\nmeal times. He climbed trees and tore his trousers. He joined street\nurchins, fought with them, and came back with his nose bleeding and his\nbody covered with black-and-blue spots. Who knows what might have\nhappened to him, how often village curs would have bitten him, gypsies\nstolen him, or automobiles run over him, if he had not had his little\nsister.\n\nTrue, she was a year younger than he, but she was far more sensible,\nalways stayed with him, and prevented him from doing too much mischief.\nAs he loved her dearly, he usually obeyed her, though not always, and\nthus was saved from worse injuries.\n\nOne summer day the brother again invited his little sister to ramble\nwith him through the fields and woods. The little sister did not want\nto go, because their mother had forbidden them to stray far from home.\n\u201cWell, if you won\u2019t come with me, I\u2019ll go alone,\u201d said the sly fox,\npretending to set off. He knew very well that she would not let him.\n\n\u201cYou are a regular ne\u2019er-do-weel,\u201d she replied, but she went with him.\n\nThey walked gayly along, soon left the city behind them and were on the\nhigh-road, among farms and hedges, running in the meadows through the\ntall grass and clover, picking cherries, gathering flowers, and\ncatching white and blue butterflies. So, still playing and walking\nhappily on, they reached a wood, passed through it, and at last came to\nthe bank of a rushing river, where they could walk no farther.\n\n\u201cNow we will turn back,\u201d said the little sister.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the brother; \u201cit is too beautiful here.\u201d He took his\nlittle sister by the hand, and drew her along by the water. At a bend\nin the shore he suddenly saw a little boat, tied to an old willow.\nShouting with delight, he instantly sprang into the skiff, which began\nto rock dangerously.\n\n\u201cYou must get out at once,\u201d screamed the little girl in terror.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve no idea of it,\u201d replied the rascal; \u201cit rocks so gloriously that\nI feel like a bird in the air. Jump in quick, little sister, we will\nhave a row.\u201d\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t do it,\u201d said the little girl; \u201cthe boat doesn\u2019t belong to us.\nIf the owner catches you, he will box your ears. And mother always\nforbids us to go on the water.\u201d\n\n\u201cMother won\u2019t see; come with me, come,\u201d said the naughty boy, untying\nthe boat. Unless the little sister wanted to stay alone on the bank,\nshe was obliged to follow him, whether she liked it or not.\n\nShe timidly put first one foot and then the other in the boat,\ntrembling a little as it rocked. Her brother laughed at her, pulled her\ndown on the seat, and pushed the oar against the shore. The skiff moved\noff, at first slowly, then faster and faster. Before the children were\naware of it, they were in the middle of the river, where the current\nwas the strongest, shooting along with the utmost speed. The banks\nfairly flew past them. Each bend in the stream showed them new\npictures: at first flowery meadows, then dark woods, finally lofty\nmountains, which constantly drew nearer together and cast gloomier\nshadows over the surface of the water. The stream flowed with\ntremendous force through a narrow ravine between high cliffs, its waves\ndashing against the rocks with a thundering roar.\n\n\u201cIt frightens me,\u201d said the little sister, softly.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not afraid,\u201d replied the brother; \u201cit is so wild here, and the\nwater sings so merrily.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut where are we going?\u201d asked the little sister.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, and that\u2019s just the beautiful part of it,\u201d the boy\nanswered; \u201cwe will shut our eyes and let ourselves go\u2014we shall land\nsomewhere.\u201d\n\nThe little girl did so, for she was afraid of the mountains, towering\nso close at hand, and the raging river. Again the stream curved sharply\naround a projecting cliff, and both brother and sister screamed with\nfright. They had felt a violent shock, and were flung headlong into the\nbottom of the boat.\n\nOpening their eyes quickly, they saw that an invisible power had jerked\ntheir boat out of the water and was lifting it high in the air. They\nraised themselves as well as they could, and now saw that the boat was\nin a huge net as thick as one\u2019s arm, hanging from a pole as big as a\ntree. This pole was held by a terrible giant, who sat on the top of one\nof the high, steep cliffs that lined the shore, dangling legs ten times\nas long as a man\u2019s. In a trice the net was drawn up and thrown on the\nrock so roughly that every seam in the boat creaked. A hand so large\nthat there was plenty of room in the palm for the little skiff reached\nin for it, disentangled it from the confusion of meshes, and held it\nbefore two eyes as big as cart wheels. A mouth like a barn-door opened,\nand a voice which echoed through the river valley like thunder said: \u201cA\ngood catch at last! My old woman will be pleased with it.\u201d The hand\nclosed around the boat, and the two children saw between the fingers,\nas if looking through the chinks in the rafters of a steeple, that the\ngiant rose, shouldered his net, and began to walk away. His head\ntowered above the tallest trees, and his walk was faster than the\nswiftest railroad train.\n\nThe brother was half dead with fright, he howled at the top of his\nlungs and stammered almost unintelligibly: \u201cOh, dear! Oh, dear! It\u2019s\nall over with us.\u201d\n\nThe little sister, too, did not feel very comfortable; but she kept up\nher courage and reproached her brother for his useless whining. \u201cYou\nhave brought us into the scrape,\u201d she said, \u201cnow at least keep quiet.\nPerhaps all giants do not eat human beings.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did he fish us out of the water, unless he meant to eat us?\u201d\nwailed the boy.\n\n\u201cHe is carrying us home to his wife,\u201d said the little sister,\nsoothingly; \u201cwe will beg the giantess very prettily to let us go home\nto our mother. I don\u2019t believe a woman would do children any harm, even\nif she is a giantess.\u201d\n\nThe brother was only half comforted; he nestled close to his sister,\nthrew both arms around her neck, and sobbed: \u201cOh, little sister, help\njust this time. I will never be naughty again.\u201d\n\nIt was not long before the giant reached his house, built on a high,\nwooded mountain, and larger than the largest church that the children\nhad ever seen. Before the door stood the giantess, smiling at her\nhusband.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m bringing you something!\u201d he shouted in his thundering voice, while\nstill at a long distance, waving the hand that held the boat to and fro\nbefore his face, till the children grew dizzy.\n\n\u201cWhat can it be?\u201d asked the giantess, curiously, and went quickly into\nthe sitting room.\n\nThe giant followed her, set the boat on the table, took the boy between\nhis thumb and forefinger, and held him up before his wife\u2019s face: \u201cJust\nlook at this little Hop-o\u2019-my-Thumb! He was floating along very happily\nwith this other pygmy on our water, in a little nutshell, and I fished\nout the whole cargo of food.\u201d\n\nThe boy struggled with all his might in the fingers that held him,\nroared as if he were being put on the spit, and twisted his face into\nsuch ugly shapes that his little sister cried out, \u201cDon\u2019t behave so,\nlittle brother, the master and mistress are not eating you yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot yet, little Miss Pert, not yet,\u201d said the giant, and began to\nlaugh loudly.\n\nThe giantess took the struggling boy out of his hand, put him on the\ntable, where he again fell on his little sister\u2019s neck and hid his face\nin her bosom, and scrutinized the little pair. Her eyes, in spite of\ntheir size, looked kind, and her face was mild and gentle, which the\nlittle sister noticed very plainly. The giantess had no children\nherself, and her heart grew soft when she saw these two little human\ncreatures so near her.\n\n\u201cI haven\u2019t tasted any human flesh for a long time,\u201d cried the giant.\n\u201cPrepare the little ones for my supper. I\u2019ll have them baked.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the giantess, quickly, covering the children with her\nhand. \u201cThey are too small. Both wouldn\u2019t make you a mouthful. We must\nfatten them first. We have four roebucks for to-night, besides two\npecks of potatoes and a hundred weight of cherries. Let me have the\nchildren awhile for playthings.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, for aught I care,\u201d growled the giant, and went out to put away\nhis fishing tackle.\n\nThe giantess, when she was left alone with the children, sat down\nbefore the table, looked at the two a long time in silence, then as the\nboy was the larger, leaned nearer to him, and said in a voice which she\ntried to make very gentle: \u201cDon\u2019t be frightened, little mouse. I will\ndo you no harm if you are very good and sensible. Will you be?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Lady Giantess,\u201d replied the boy, whining, and trembling from head\nto foot, \u201cI\u2019ll do my best. But my sister is much nicer and more\nsensible than I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this true, little one?\u201d asked the giantess.\n\n\u201cWe ought not to praise ourselves, Lady Giantess,\u201d answered the little\nsister, making a pretty courtesy.\n\nThe reply and the little girl\u2019s manner greatly pleased the giantess.\nShe smiled and said: \u201cWe will see presently which of you two is the\nsmarter. I will ask you three questions, and if you answer them\ncorrectly, you shall have your liberty.\u201d\n\nThe little sister clapped her hands, and, taking one of the huge\nfingers of the kind giantess, pressed a kiss on the tip. True, it\nseemed as if she had kissed the end of a log, but it pleased the\ngiantess.\n\n\u201cNow pay attention,\u201d she said. \u201cYou too, boy. Why do we eat fruit for\ndessert, and not at the beginning of the meal?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause fruit is so good,\u201d replied the brother, quickly.\n\nThe giantess shook her head. \u201cThe fruit is just as good at the\nbeginning of the meal as it is at dessert. A bad answer. Do you know\nany better, little one?\u201d\n\nThe little sister nodded, saying, \u201cBecause we could eat nothing more if\nthe fruit did not give us fresh appetite.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s something in that,\u201d said the giantess. \u201cSo go on. Why is there\na cock instead of a hen on the top of the church steeple?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause the cock is bigger,\u201d replied the boy, \u201cso it can be seen\nbetter.\u201d\n\nThe giantess shook her head again. \u201cThe hen can be made as large as we\ndesire. A bad answer. Do you know a better one, little girl?\u201d\n\nThe little sister said without hesitation: \u201cA hen cannot be on the top\nof the steeple. If she lays eggs, they would fall down, and be broken\ninto a thousand pieces.\u201d\n\n\u201cRather good,\u201d said the giantess. \u201cNow for the third question. Collect\nyour thoughts, boy. Why do women have long hair and men short, or none\nat all?\u201d\n\n\u201cI needn\u2019t collect my thoughts much for that,\u201d replied the boy, boldly;\n\u201cbecause the men have their hair cut, and the women don\u2019t.\u201d\n\nThe giantess shook her head for the third time. \u201cYou would have done\nwisely to think the matter over. Why do not women have their hair cut?\nThat is just the question. You have answered badly. We will see whether\nyour sister can do better.\u201d\n\nThe little sister remembered an exclamation which she had often heard\nfrom her sorely tried mother, and said precociously, \u201cWomen must have\nlong hair so that they can tear it out when the men commit follies.\u201d\n\nThe giantess burst into a loud laugh, ran to her husband, called him\nin, and told the little girl to repeat her answer. The little sister\ndid so bravely, and now the giant laughed, too, till he had to hold his\nsides. \u201cA woman will be a woman,\u201d he shouted, \u201cwhether she is as small\nas a mouse or as big as a house.\u201d\n\nWhen the kind giantess saw that her husband was in a good humor, she\nsaid, \u201cWe will let the little ones go; there is really nothing to them\nyet.\u201d\n\n\u201cI caught them for you; do what you please with them,\u201d replied the\ngiant, shrugging his shoulders, and he went back to his work.\n\nHe had scarcely left the room when the giantess took the brother and\nlittle sister by the hand, went quickly out of the house and into the\nwood with them, and when she had reached the foot of the mountain she\nput them on the ground, saying: \u201cGet away before my husband changes his\nmind. And since you are such a clever child, little girl, I will give\nyou something.\u201d\n\nDrawing out of her pocket a small silk purse, she handed it to the\nlittle sister. \u201cTake this, and keep it carefully. Whenever you have a\nclever idea, you will find a gold piece in it. I think you will be a\nrich girl.\u201d\n\nThe little sister wanted to thank her, but the giantess hurried off\nwith her huge strides and was out of sight in an instant.\n\nThe children were now free; that was certainly delightful, but they\nwere all alone in the deep forest, saw no path, and did not know where\nthey were or which way they ought to go. The brother sat down in the\nmoss, and again began to weep bitterly. \u201cOh, dear, little sister, what\nis to become of us! How shall we ever get home to mother!\u201d\n\nThe little sister sat down by his side and tried to encourage him; but\nshe herself was on the point of crying, and was wondering whether the\nwolves might not eat them, now that they had so fortunately escaped\nfrom the giants.\n\nJust at this moment she saw a stork flying high above them. \u201cStork!\nHey! Stork!\u201d she called as loud as she could, started up, and beckoned\nwith all her might. An idea had flashed through her brain. At the same\nmoment she felt something hard in the soft little purse which she held\nin her hand. She opened it, a glittering gold coin shone before her. So\nshe had had a good idea.\n\nThe stork flew slowly down, alighted on the bough of a neighboring\ntree, and clapped: \u201cWhat is it? What do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cStork,\u201d said the little sister, \u201cyou have already brought us to our\nmother once. Take us to her again. We are lost and cannot find our way\nhome.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe never take a child to its mother twice,\u201d clattered the bird,\npreparing to fly away.\n\n\u201cBut surely you will not leave us here to die,\u201d screamed the little\nsister in terror. \u201cPlease, please, be kind, we will love, you very,\nvery dearly.\u201d\n\nThe stork reflected, as is its custom, then it said: \u201cYou are too heavy\nfor me. I\u2019ll bring a companion.\u201d\n\nOff it flew with the speed of an arrow, but in a few minutes the\nchildren heard a great rustling in the air, and saw seven storks, which\nswooped straight down to them. Four seized the brother by the arms and\nlegs, three took the little sister by the sleeves and belt, and away\nthey went, up and down, through the blue air, over forest, and field,\nmountain and valley, so swiftly that the children closed their eyes,\nthat they might not grow dizzy. This lasted for some time; the children\ndid not know how long, then suddenly there was a crashing, a fall, a\nrushing noise. They opened their eyes quickly and found themselves\nlying in their mother\u2019s bed, while the storks were soaring out of the\nopen window.\n\nTheir mother, who had been very anxious about them, screamed with joy\nwhen she saw them, and forgot to punish them as she had intended when\nthey did not come home to dinner. She forgave them fully when the\nlittle girl told her about the giants and showed her the giantess\u2019s\ncostly gift, and the gold piece which had rewarded her first bright\nidea.\n\n\u201cNow we shall be rich,\u201d said the boy, who admired his little sister\nmore than ever; \u201cyou will have lots of good ideas every day.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think so, too,\u201d replied the little sister, with a touch of conceit.\nShe now devoted herself to finding good ideas. She made all sorts of\nsmart, affected speeches, which seemed to her very clever; and whenever\nshe thought she had said something extremely bright, she secretly felt\nfor the little silk purse in her pocket. Only, to her surprise and\nanger, she found no gold piece there, and she consoled herself by\nthinking that the giantess had fooled her. Yet she had once found a\ngold piece in the purse, so it could not be a mere hoax on the part of\nthe giantess. She thought about the matter a long time, and suddenly\nthe idea darted through her head, \u201cWhat if all the smart sayings, of\nwhich I have been so vain, were not clever ideas at all, but stupid\nnonsense?\u201d\n\nAt the same moment she felt something hard in her pocket, opened the\npurse with a trembling hand, and there was another beautiful glittering\ngold piece. So this was her first good idea since the one with the\nstork. From this she learned to be modest and natural, no longer\nstruggled to force herself to think up bright ideas, which, however,\nnow came of themselves,\u2014sometimes many, sometimes only a few,\u2014but\nalways some, so she never lacked shining gold coins; and her father no\nlonger had to go to the machine-shop, but could build a factory of his\nown; and her mother no longer needed to take in washing; and her\nbrother became a fine, well-educated young fellow, and they were all\nhappy and remained so as long as they lived.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MASTER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little girl whose name was Maxa. She was a\npretty child, always happy, and very inquisitive. The word which people\nheard Maxa say more often than any other was \u201cWhy?\u201d She wanted to know\nwhere everything came from, and who made everything,\u2014the flowers, the\nbirds, the golden beetles, and the gay butterflies. When she saw a\nviolet on which a ladybug rested, or a rose-bush with a butterfly\nfluttering about it, she exclaimed, \u201cOh, if I could only make something\nlike that!\u201d But her mother said, \u201cHuman beings cannot make such\nthings.\u201d\n\nOne spring day, Maxa was playing in the garden alone. She drove her\nhoop to the fence that separated it from the next meadow. There she\nsuddenly saw a man sitting on a little folding stool, with his back\nagainst the fence. Before him was an easel, supporting an unframed\ncanvas on which he was painting. She did not feel afraid, for she was\nin the garden and he in the meadow, with a thick hedge between them;\nand, besides, he did not notice her or trouble himself about her. So\nshe stood still, rested the hoop against the fence, kept as quiet as a\nlittle mouse, and watched. The meadow was very large and rather marshy,\nwith a low, white wall at the far end. Neither man nor beast was\nvisible, and buttercups were almost the only flower that covered the\nbrown earth. The canvas before the artist was still blank. He was just\npreparing to paint the sky. Under his brush appeared a beautiful\nexpanse of blue, on which floated several fleecy white clouds.\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d thought Maxa, \u201cthat isn\u2019t right. The sky is perfectly clear.\u201d And\nshe looked up to compare them. But behold\u2014the heavens, which had just\nbeen cloudless, now showed here and there a few thin cloudlets, just as\nthe artist had painted them.\n\nHe worked on industriously with his nimble brush. Maxa saw the meadow\nappear, but at its end in the picture, instead of the white wall, there\nwas a green river, from which the sunshine was reflected. She glanced\nquickly in that direction\u2014what did it mean? The well-known white wall\nhad vanished, and in its place flowed a stream which she had never seen\nthere.\n\nThe little girl wondered and watched even more eagerly than before. Now\nthe man was painting a row of tall poplar trees along the river bank.\nYes, there in the distance rose the poplars. He scattered over his\ncanvas red and blue flowers which she had never seen. A swift glance at\nthe meadow showed her that everywhere, among the yellow buttercups, the\nstrange blue and red flowers had sprung in great numbers from the brown\nearth. Maxa watched still more closely, and when the artist painted in\none corner of his canvas a flock of shining sheep and lambs, in whose\nmidst was a shepherd with a broad-brimmed hat and long staff, and a\nblack dog with a white head, and in the meadow also appeared a shepherd\nwith a broad-brimmed hat and long staff, and a lively dog with a flock\nof sheep and lambs, she could contain herself no longer, and cried out,\n\u201cWhy, everything you paint grows out of the earth!\u201d\n\nThe artist turned quickly and looked at her. She wanted to run away,\nbut she could not do it. She was forced to stay; she did not know why.\nMaxa had already noticed that he wore long hair. Now she saw that he\nhad a long beard, and blue eyes which sparkled like the brightest stars\nat night.\n\n\u201cWhat! Do you see that everything I paint grows out of the earth?\u201d he\nasked.\n\n\u201cOf course I see it. Why shouldn\u2019t I?\u201d replied Maxa.\n\n\u201cThen you are a Sunday child,\u201d said the artist.\n\n\u201cSo I am,\u201d Maxa answered. She knew this, for her mother had often told\nher that the stork had brought her one Sunday afternoon.\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d the artist murmured, his eyes resting kindly on the\nbeautiful little girl. \u201cSunday children see what forever remains\ninvisible to others.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you,\u201d asked Maxa, who had grown familiar,\u2014\u201cwhat are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am an artist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is an artist? A painter?\u201d\n\nHe laughed. \u201cNot every artist is a painter, and not every painter is an\nartist. I am an artist who paints.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you don\u2019t merely paint\u2014you make a river, and trees, and little\nwhite lambs, and even a shepherd with a hat and cane and a dog. Is all\nthis real, too?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is real, since you see it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you are the one who makes the flowers and the birds, the golden\nbeetles and the butterflies?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not the only one who makes them, but I make them too. The artist\nmakes whatever he wishes, and what he makes is really there, whether it\nis things or flowers, animals or human beings.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do they live?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey live if there is anything living in them, and they live much\nlonger than what nature has created, and always remain as young and\nbeautiful as the artist has formed them.\u201d\n\nThen Maxa clapped her hands, crying: \u201cOh, if I could only make them\ntoo! Won\u2019t you teach me, dear artist?\u201d\n\nThe man with the long beard looked thoughtfully at her a little while\nwith his sparkling blue eyes, then he said: \u201cEvery one cannot learn.\nBut you are a Sunday child, and you have bright eyes. Perhaps I can\nteach you. Come, child, we will go to your mother, and ask if she will\nallow you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how can you get over the hedge? It is so thick, and it pricks so\nterribly.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be troubled,\u201d replied the artist, as he rose from his stool and\nwaved his hand. The hedge parted and let him pass through; his stool,\neasel, and paint-box followed like dogs, and when they were all in the\ngarden, the hedge closed again. So they went to the house together,\u2014the\ntall man walking in front with the little girl, the easel striding\nstiffly along on its three legs, the folding-chair hobbling before, and\nthe paint-box jumping in short hops like a toad. On the way the\nthrushes, wrens, and blackbirds, whose nests were in the garden, flew\nabout them, singing a joyous greeting to the artist, which he answered\nwith a friendly nod, and the acacias and horse-chestnuts scattered\nblossoms on his long hair as he passed under their boughs. The cat,\nhowever, which was sunning herself on the door-step, ran hastily away.\nShe knew nothing about art, and was afraid of the easel, and\nfolding-chair, and paint-box, which she thought were hostile animals.\n\nThe little girl ran on before and told her mother about the stranger,\nas well as the easel, folding-chair, and paint-box, which had come\nshambling and hopping with them. But the artist left them all outside,\nand went in alone. He told the mother that her little daughter wanted\nto learn to paint; she seemed to have the right eyes for it, and she\nwas a Sunday child, too, so she would probably succeed. He was ready to\nteach her until she knew as much as he did. Her mother did not object,\nonly there must be no expense. The artist relieved her economical mind\non that score, and it was settled that Maxa should become his pupil.\n\n\u201cWhere will you have your studio?\u201d the mother asked.\n\n\u201cWherever you wish,\u201d replied the artist; \u201cin your garden.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the open air, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. If you will allow it, I\u2019ll build a little house.\u201d\n\nThe mother looked troubled. \u201cH\u2019m,\u201d she said, \u201cthat will take months,\nand all the masons, carpenters, and locksmiths, with their noise and\ndirt.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing of the sort,\u201d interrupted the painter. \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid of\neither dirt or disorder. Everything will be finished in an hour, and I\ncan invite you to inspect the building.\u201d\n\nThe artist went away, and Maxa followed him. She wanted to know how he\nwould manage to build a house in an hour.\n\nHe found a sunny, grass-grown spot near the hedge, without trees, sat\ndown on his folding-chair, took from his paint-box a small, new canvas,\nput it on the easel, reflected a moment, and then began to paint a\nwonderfully pretty house, which looked like a jewel box. The walls were\nmarble, pillars stood at the right and left of the entrance, the roof\nwas made of green copper, and through the clear panes of the large\nwindows gleamed yellow silk curtains. And what the artist painted on\nthe canvas actually appeared; so when the house in the picture was\nfinished, it was also ready in the garden, and taking Maxa by the hand,\nthe painter went in with her, sat down again, and began to paint\nsuitable furniture, beautiful old tapestries of silk and gold threads,\nTurkish carpets in soft, faded hues, low, broad sofas, light gilded\nchairs, tall, carved, ebony wardrobes, and, for the corners and niches,\ncoats of mail, bronze statues, and large porcelain vases. He did not\nforget his little friend either. For her he painted six dolls, each one\nin a different costume, and the prettiest of all was a fair-haired\nSwiss, with a silver chain on her bodice. When Maxa saw her, she fairly\nshouted for joy, ran to her, and, clasping her in her arms, exclaimed,\n\u201cI want to show her to mamma.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the artist, \u201cyou must carry nothing out. You can only play\nwith your dolls here in the studio, and when your mother comes, she\nwill see them.\u201d\n\nBut he had not yet finished. When the room was magnificently furnished,\nhe painted two young negro women in striped silk gowns, with red\nkerchiefs on their heads. After the last stroke of the brush, they\nstood alive in the studio, approached the artist, and bowed low before\nhim and Maxa. \u201cThey are to do the work here,\u201d said the painter. \u201cThey\nwill obey you if you order anything sensible. But they will answer only\nwith their eyes, for they are dumb.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you make them speak, too?\u201d asked Maxa.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he answered, \u201cI can\u2019t do that. I should have to beg other\nartists, the poets, to help me. But, for these negro girls, it isn\u2019t\nnecessary.\u201d\n\nThe hour was not over by several minutes when the painter went back to\nMaxa\u2019s mother and invited her to visit his house in the garden. The\nmother was very much astonished to see the charming little marble\npalace, the costly furniture, the black maid-servants in their gay silk\ngowns, and Maxa\u2019s six dolls, and said: \u201cYou are a clever man. I will\ntrust my Maxa to you. She will learn something worth knowing.\u201d\n\nMaxa came to the studio every morning. If the day was cloudy, or the\nmaster in a bad humor, he sent her away. If he was in a good mood, and\nthe weather was sunshiny, he gave her a lesson. She went to work\neagerly, and wanted to paint with brush and colors on the canvas at\nonce. But the artist would not allow this. \u201cYou must first learn to\ndraw well,\u201d he said, and gave her ordinary paper and a lead pencil. She\ndrew with an untrained hand all sorts of crooked marks, looking up\neagerly from the board to see whether what she was scrawling on the\npaper would actually appear. But nothing came. Then she threw the\npencil down, exclaiming impatiently: \u201cIf I can\u2019t make anything real, it\nisn\u2019t worth while. You must teach me your art, and nothing else.\u201d\n\nThe artist looked at her gravely, and replied: \u201cArt cannot be learned\nin a day. People must work long and patiently.\u201d\n\n\u201cEven a Sunday child?\u201d\n\n\u201cEven a Sunday child. A person who is not cannot learn it at all. You\nmust begin at the beginning, as we have all done. You must not open the\npaint-box until you know how to use the pencil perfectly. Just think,\nchild, if I should allow you to paint before you were able to draw\nfaultlessly, and you should make a monster, when the unfortunate\ncreature stood alive before you, crooked, misshapen, and crippled, what\nwould you say then?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should be very sorry,\u201d said Maxa, sadly.\n\n\u201cThat wouldn\u2019t help the poor cripple. So you are strictly forbidden to\ntouch the paint-box until you can draw perfectly.\u201d\n\nMaxa was a sensible child, and saw that the master was right. She drew\ndiligently, though at first it wearied her, and soon gained a taste for\nit. She wanted to reach quickly the point where she could use the\npaint-box; but the master was strict, and nothing except what was\nperfectly correct, the very best, would satisfy him. Many months passed\nbefore she had made so much progress that he said one day, \u201cIt will do\nnow.\u201d Maxa blushed with pleasure, and asked, \u201cMay I have the\npaint-box?\u201d\n\nThe artist looked at her for a while silently and thoughtfully, then he\nsaid: \u201cVery well. We will try.\u201d\n\nMaxa, in great delight, sprang up to bring the paint-box from the\ncorner, but the master stopped her and beckoned. The easel stalked\nforward, the paint-box hopped to its side, and the negro girls brought\na mahl-stick, a canvas, and a new palette, and set everything in order.\nThe little girl took the magic brush from the box, squeezed a few bits\nof color from the tubes upon the palette, and stepped before the\ncanvas. Her hand trembled, her little heart beat violently, and her\neyes grew dim. It was a great moment. Now, for the first time, she was\nto accomplish, as a real artist, the miracle of creation.\n\nShe was just touching the brush to the canvas when the artist caught\nher arm.\n\n\u201cStop, child. No hurry. What do you want to paint?\u201d\n\n\u201cA little girl,\u201d she answered firmly.\n\nThe master smiled and shook his head. \u201cNo, not yet. That is too\ndifficult. Try something lifeless first.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I want to make a living creature!\u201d cried Maxa, stamping her foot\nimpatiently.\n\n\u201cNo one must do that until he is perfectly sure of himself,\u201d replied\nthe master. \u201cTry something lifeless first.\u201d\n\nA mischievous idea darted into the child\u2019s head. With a few swift\nstrokes of the brush she painted in the middle of the canvas a gray\ncloud of smoke. Instantly a thick vapor filled the room, and the two\nblack maids began to cough pitifully. The master laughed and quickly\npainted the cloud over with the ground color, the smoke vanished as\nsuddenly as it had come, and the artist said reprovingly: \u201cNo nonsense,\nchild, or I shall take away the paint-box. Art is too lofty for sorry\njests.\u201d\n\nShe begged forgiveness, promised to be good and sensible, and now began\nto work earnestly. \u201cI\u2019ll paint a doll,\u201d she said, and the master\nconsented. Oh, wonder! The Alsatian peasant girl, with the big\nbutterfly bow on her fair hair, which she began to paint, grew before\nher on the floor of the studio, just as it did under her brush. When\nshe saw the doll\u2019s head and body lying there, she wanted to throw down\nthe painting implements and rush to it, to convince herself by feeling\nthat it was real. Again the artist sternly reproved her.\n\n\u201cKeep on, you restless butterfly. What has been begun must be finished.\nFirst complete the doll, then you can play with her.\u201d\n\nMaxa added the arms and legs, but she did it rather carelessly, and\nthey were incomplete. She would not take the time to paint shoes and\nstockings, so the poor Alsatian remained barefooted. The master shook\nhis head, but did not prevent her running to the doll and lifting it\ntenderly in her arms. Maxa would not notice that the limbs were\nstrangely crooked and pitifully thin, and it was by no means as pretty\nas the six dolls which the artist had made for her. She liked it\nbetter, because she had created it herself.\n\nThe artist let her play with the work of her hands, locked away the\nbrush and palette, sent the paint-box back to its corner, and said:\n\u201cNow you know how an artist feels when he has created something.\nWhoever has done it once will do it again. But I forbid you to touch\nthe paint-box in my absence. You can use it only when I am here.\u201d\n\nMaxa came to the studio even more eagerly every day, and was happy when\npermitted to paint with the magic pencil. She never grew tired of\nfilling the room with the works of her imagination. First, she made\ntoys of every description; then vases, china figures, and bronze busts;\nthen she ventured upon foliage, plants, and flowers; and finally even\non all sorts of flying and creeping things, gay caterpillars, ladybugs,\nlittle beetles, and butterflies of the most magnificent colors; and\nwhen the beetles ran over the leaves, and the butterflies were hovering\nin the air, she exclaimed: \u201cSee what I can do! Now I want to paint some\nliving people.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot yet,\u201d said the master. \u201cBeware of pride; it is the greatest foe of\nthe artist.\u201d\n\nMaxa would not understand, and begged and coaxed him to let her paint\nhuman beings. But he would not permit it. This vexed her, and she\nthought: \u201cJust wait! I\u2019ll give him a surprise.\u201d She watched in the\ngarden until the master went out, slipped into the studio, and seized\nthe paint-box. The negro girls hastily placed themselves in front of\nit, warning her by gestures not to disobey the master\u2019s command; but\nMaxa cried, \u201cBegone, you black creatures, or I\u2019ll paint a dog that will\nbite you.\u201d Then the mute maid-servants drew back in terror, while Maxa\nopened the paint-box, placed a large new canvas on the easel, thought\nfor a moment, and then resolutely began to paint a young girl.\n\nShe had long been planning what she desired to make\u2014just the girl she\nwished to be herself, tall and beautiful, with loose golden hair and\nshining gray eyes, in a pink dress with a long train.\n\nThe first strokes of the brush she made boldly, without hesitation. She\nbegan with the head, and was completely absorbed in the work. But when\nit was successfully finished and looked out at her from the canvas with\nshining gray eyes, she could not refrain from glancing into the studio\nbeside the easel to see what was being done. Her eyes instantly met two\nsparkling gray ones, gazing at her with an unspeakably loving, longing\nexpression.\n\nThis look was an electric shock, and confused her so that she did not\nventure to glance there again, but hastily painted on. But she no\nlonger had her former sure touch. Now she had seen it: what her brush\npainted became actual life, and every stroke was part of a living\ncreature\u2014if it failed, the creature was injured. Maxa\u2019s hand trembled,\nand she felt inclined to throw down the brush. But dared she do that?\nShe could not leave unfinished what she had commenced\u2014how terrible it\nwould be to have half a human being lying in the studio! She trembled\nwith fear at the bare thought, and painted on hurriedly. The master\nmight come back at any moment. Only let her finish\u2014quick\u2014quick\u2014\n\nBut alas! Nothing perfect can be accomplished by over haste. The young\ngirl\u2019s body would not succeed like the head. It was crooked and\nmisshapen, the shoulders were uneven, and the folds of the pink dress\nwith the long train showed that the material covered very ill-formed\nlimbs. Maxa perceived, with increasing fear, that she had bungled, and\nshe was just going to try to correct some of the most faulty lines in\nthe sketch when the door suddenly opened and the master entered.\n\nMaxa screamed and ran behind a curtain to hide. The artist saw at once\nwhat had happened: the picture with the beautiful head and the\nmiserable body, the poor crippled girl in the studio, the negro maids\nwho stood in the corner as if paralyzed by fear, and he called in a\nterrible voice, \u201cMaxa, what have you done?\u201d\n\nMaxa came out of her hiding place, clasped her hands, and pleaded:\u2014\n\n\u201cForgive me, master, I could not help it. I had to do it.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook at your work, you disobedient child! All that lives for you is a\nmonster, with a pretty face and crippled limbs.\u201d\n\n\u201cMake amends for what I have done,\u201d Maxa begged, beginning to cry.\n\n\u201cI cannot do that,\u201d said the master, sadly. \u201cYour creation lives. It\nbelongs to you alone. Will you destroy it, and make another?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d shrieked Maxa in horror, hurrying to the girl as if to save her\nfrom destruction. The young girl knelt before her, laid her head in her\nlap, and looked at her very mournfully. Maxa, being a Sunday child,\nwas, without knowing it, a poetess, so she could give the mute girl\nspeech, and she began to say in sorrowful tones:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cLittle mother dear, why\n        Crooked, ugly, am I,\n          Not pretty like you?\n        Since thou madest me live,\n        Why didst thou not give\n          Joy and loveliness, too?\u201d\n\n\nMaxa hugged and kissed her, and tried to comfort her. She was not ugly,\nshe whispered into her ear, but beautiful as the day; no one could help\nloving her, and she would give her the handsomest clothes and the most\nsplendid jewels. But the young girl, shaking her head, answered:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cGems bright and rare,\n        Silk and velvet fair,\n        No joy bestow.\n        Little mother, I pray, leave me not so.\u201d\n\n\nMaxa, in her distress, turned to the master, who stood with folded\narms, gazing sadly at her and the complaining girl. \u201cMaster, dear\nmaster, help me just this once. I will never be disobedient again. I\ncannot bear to have the creature I have made so unhappy. Help me, or\nkill us both.\u201d The master made no reply, but paced up and down the\nstudio several times, absorbed in thought. Some minutes passed in this\nway, while Maxa followed him anxiously with her eyes. At last he\nstopped and said, \u201cYour girl must remain as she is, but I will do what\nI can to make her happy.\u201d Going to the canvas, he began to paint. He\nmade a young prince, handsome as the day, slender as a fir tree, with\nkindly eyes and smiling face, who stretched both hands toward the girl\nand gazed at her tenderly. And there, too, stood the young prince in\nreality, stretching both hands toward the girl as he did in the\npicture. Then the master said: \u201cHe loves you, and will marry you, and\nalways be your faithful husband. He cannot speak, but you can talk\nenough for both. If you like him, give him your hand.\u201d\n\nThe young girl, blushing, rose and went slowly toward the prince. She\nlimped slightly, but the prince did not seem to notice it. Gazing\njoyously into her sparkling gray eyes, which she cast down, he clasped\nher in his arms. The negro maids clapped their hands in delight and\ndanced around the pair. The easel stalked along shakily, the paint-box\njumped merrily, but Maxa said mournfully:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat good will all this do? The lover won\u2019t make the girl more\nbeautiful.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t understand,\u201d said the master. \u201cWhen one loves anybody with\nall one\u2019s heart, one thinks her more beautiful than anything else in\nthe whole wide world. Ask the bride what she says about it.\u201d Maxa cast\na searching glance at the young girl, who nestled closely to her\nprince, saying with a happy smile:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cHis love is true beyond compare;\n        Just as I am he finds me fair.\n        His heart is now my happiness;\n        I need not beauty life to bless.\u201d\n\n\nThe prince nodded and kissed his future bride.\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d said Maxa, \u201cif you are both satisfied, I will be, too,\nand I thank you, master, for having made everything turn out for the\nbest.\u201d\n\nBut the artist answered: \u201cI could help once, but never again. Let this\nbe a lesson to you. Great power is given to the artist. But woe betide\nhim if he uses it recklessly! Farewell. I can teach you nothing more.\u201d\n\nBefore she could speak a word, he had vanished, and with him the\nlovers, the black maid-servants, the easel, and the paint-box; but the\nstudio and all its contents remained, including the picture with the\nprince and the girl. Whenever Maxa saw it afterward, her heart grew\nboth sad and joyous\u2014sad because the girl she had created had\ndisappeared, and joyous because she felt that she must be happy with\nher prince. Maxa herself grew up into a tall, beautiful girl, whom\neverybody recognized as a Sunday child. She continued to paint, but no\nlonger with a magic brush, and this was well for her.\n\nWho can be sure that his work will always succeed?\u2014and it is far too\ndangerous to make a mistake when, for each error, a living being must\nsuffer all through life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEART THREAD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in an old palace by the sea a beautiful\nyoung queen, who was richer and more powerful than any other, far or\nnear, in that region or across the water. She had many big ships, which\nbrought to her from the most distant quarters of the globe valuables of\nevery description. She possessed cities and castles, fields and flocks,\nand everything that the heart can desire. Her mints stamped gold from\nher mines, her mills ground wheat from her fields, her furnaces burned\nwood from her forests, the materials of her clothes were woven from\nsilk from her silkworms and wool from her sheep, and, when she wanted\nto be merry, she had fools enough in her own country at whom she could\nlaugh. Only one thing was lacking to make her happy: children, or at\nleast one child. For, though she had been married several years,\nhitherto she had vainly longed for the joys of a mother.\n\nWhen year after year passed away without the gift of a little one, the\nbeautiful young queen lost her cheerfulness, and became more and more\nsorrowful. Her riches gave her no pleasure, she scarcely glanced at the\nprecious things her ships brought from the most distant countries. She\ndid not laugh at her jesters, no matter what funny things they might\nsay. Shutting herself up in her most distant tower, she played with the\ndolls she had had when she was a little girl, dressed and undressed\nthem, washed and petted them, rocked them in her arms and sang them to\nsleep, or ordered very young babies to be brought, treated them in the\nsame loving way, and covered them with kisses and tears before she\nallowed them to be carried back to their mothers.\n\nThe queen no longer had her mother, but she had her nurse, a good and\nwise woman. One day she asked her, \u201cTell me, nurse, does the stork\nnever come into my country?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, my beautiful queen,\u201d replied the nurse; \u201che probably comes\nevery day and every night.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why doesn\u2019t he enter my palace?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I do not know, my beloved queen, old as I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think that I could have him caught as he is flying past the\npalace?\u201d\n\nThe nurse shook her head doubtfully. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t advise that. If the\nstork is frightened, I have heard, he drops the child from his beak,\nand the baby\u2019s little limbs are broken, and it is found dead. Then you\nwill have nothing, and the mother who is expecting it will have no baby\neither.\u201d\n\nThe queen could say nothing in answer to this. Yet she could not give\nup the thought of snatching a child from the stork, if he did not bring\nher one voluntarily. She commanded her hunters to climb every night\nwith nets to the roofs of the houses and the tops of the steeples, to\nthe summits of the mountains and the branches of the trees, and seize a\nstork carrying a child if he flew past within reach of their arms. But\nthey were strictly ordered not to frighten or injure the bird, and,\nabove all, to take care that the child was not hurt.\n\nThe hunters obeyed the queen\u2019s orders, and, night after night, went to\ntheir stations in the tree-tops, on the mountain peaks, towers, and\nroofs. They saw, by the light of the moon and stars, plenty of storks\nflying by with babies in their beaks, but they did not come near enough\nto have the nets thrown over them, and the hunters were obliged to\nleave their lofty posts with empty hands. The queen was very much\ndispleased with them for their lack of skill, but the storks, too, were\nvery angry. They complained to the fairy of the children, that they\ncould not go their way through the kingdom of the beautiful young queen\nunmolested, but were startled by sudden shouts and throwing of nets, so\nthat they almost dropped the children intrusted to them. Besides, these\nmalicious attacks disturbed the children, who sometimes began to cry,\nand they ought not to open their little mouths in the chill night air;\nthey might get sick.\n\nThe fairy of the children listened to the grievances of her messenger\nbirds with a frown, and determined to go to the bottom of the mischief.\nShe went with the storks, who set out after sunset, and, as soon as she\nhad crossed the frontiers of the beautiful young queen\u2019s kingdom, she\nsaw at once, on the first wooded mountains, in the tops of the tallest\ntrees, a large number of hunters, with nets in their hands, watching\nfor the storks. Flying as swiftly as an eagle to one of them, she\ngrasped him by both shoulders, crying in a terrible voice, \u201cMan! why\ndon\u2019t you let my storks alone?\u201d\n\nThe hunter jumped so that he would certainly have fallen from the tree\nif the fairy had not held him. So he only dropped his net, and answered\ntrembling, \u201cBecause I was ordered to do it.\u201d\n\nIn reply to other questions, the fairy of the children was told that\nthe hunters were acting by the commands of their queen, and that their\nmistress was angry with them when, after watching vainly all night\nlong, they appeared at the palace in the morning without stork or\nchild.\n\nThe fairy of the children ordered the frightened hunter to leave his\npost immediately, go home, and tell all his companions to let the\nstorks alone in the future if they valued their lives. He obeyed, but\nthe next morning, instead of the expected hunters, the fairy of the\nchildren came to the palace, entered the young queen\u2019s room, and,\nwithout a word of greeting, said in a harsh voice, with a stern face,\n\u201cWhat does it mean that you have commanded your huntsmen to catch the\nstorks as they fly past carrying children?\u201d\n\nThe queen looked in astonishment at the tall stranger in the blue robe,\nwith the sparkling eyes and the little white lace cap on her gray hair,\nand answered with dignity: \u201cYou evidently do not know to whom you are\nspeaking. Or you would not dare\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense!\u201d interrupted the fairy of the children; \u201cthese high and\nmighty airs are out of place with me. I know very well that you are the\nqueen of this kingdom, but no sovereign is of any account in my\npresence. I hold the most sacred office. The future of the human race\nis confided to me. I watch over the rising generation. I am the fairy\nof the children, who sends the storks to the mothers, and I forbid\nyou\u2014\u201d\n\nThe fairy of the children could say no more. Scarcely had the queen\nheard who stood before her when, forgetting all pride, she threw\nherself at the fairy\u2019s feet, clasped her knees, and pleaded, \u201cDear,\ngood fairy of the children, give me a little child.\u201d\n\nThe fairy looked at her thoughtfully a short time, then raised her\nkindly, saying in a far more gentle voice, \u201cNo, dear queen; I cannot\ngrant your request.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why not, dear fairy? Why should a happiness which the humblest\nmother among my subjects may enjoy be denied to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cChildren bestow not only happiness, but sorrow, too, dear queen.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will gladly take the sorrow into the bargain, dear fairy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know what you wish to undertake, good little queen. A child\nfalls ill easily and often, then the mother watches in terrible anxiety\nthrough nights of pain beside its little bed. A child often dies very\nyoung, and then the mother will never again enjoy her life. And, even\nif the child grows up, it finally marries and leaves the mother alone\nin her old age.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll this does not frighten me, dear fairy. Only give me a little\nchild, I beseech you from my heart. I will nurse it if it is sick; I\nwill not survive it if it dies; I will rejoice in its happiness if it\nmarries; but give me a little child, dear fairy of the children.\u201d\n\nThe fairy reflected a little while. \u201cWait,\u201d she said. \u201cI will see if I\ncan do anything for you.\u201d Going very close to the queen, she looked at\nher sharply, murmuring: \u201cWhy! she really has the heart thread. I have\nnot often found it in queens.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the heart thread?\u201d asked the queen, very curiously and rather\nanxiously.\n\n\u201cHave you never seen it?\u201d replied the fairy of the children.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the queen. \u201cI don\u2019t know what you mean.\u201d\n\nThen the fairy grasped something and held it before the queen\u2019s eyes,\nand the queen saw with surprise a long thread, as fine as the finest\ncobweb, which looked as if it had been spun from gold. Seizing it, she\npulled it somewhat hastily, and felt a sudden pain in her heart, so\nthat she uttered a little scream. She now perceived that the thread\ngrew from her bosom, and she asked the fairy of the children if she had\nhad it long.\n\n\u201cYou have always had it,\u201d answered the fairy of the children; \u201cbut you\ndid not notice it, and therefore did not see it. I will now send you a\nchild, which will have a heart thread, too. Fasten it to yours, then\nnothing and no one can part you.\u201d\n\nThe queen began to weep for joy, but, before she could express her\ngratitude, the fairy of the children had flown out of the window and\nwas floating through the air like a blue cloud. The queen called her\nnurse, and told her joyously that the stork was going to come to her.\nInstantly there were great preparations in the palace; forty skilful\nseamstresses sewed on the child\u2019s clothing, twelve jewellers made a\ncradle of gold, silver, and gems, a young nurse was summoned from the\nmountains, and, when all was ready and in order, they waited eagerly.\n\nThey did not wait long. The evening after the nurse reached the palace,\na clattering was heard at the tower window. They hurried to open it and\na big stork dropped a little child into the nurse\u2019s arms, and flew off\nlike an arrow. The nurse ran with the baby into the chamber of the\nqueen, who, with a cry of joy, clasped it in her arms and covered it\nwith kisses. The child was a wonderfully beautiful little girl, white\nand rosy, with round limbs, golden hair, and blue eyes. The queen\nlooked at it quickly. Yes, from the little bosom grew a marvellously\nfine thread like gold, which seemed so delicate that a breath must tear\nit; but it was so strong that the queen could not separate the tiniest\nend, either with all the strength of her hands or with the scissors.\nUnnoticed by her women, she knotted the child\u2019s heart thread to her\nown, and felt a gentle warmth streaming from the little heart into\nhers, which filled her with delight.\n\nFrom that time the beautiful young queen was always with her little\ngirl, whom she named Hilda. At first the two knotted heart strings were\nso short that the mother could scarcely go a few arms\u2019 lengths from her\nchild. Hilda was obliged to follow the queen wherever she went, and if\nthe nurse, who carried the child, did not move quickly enough, it\npulled so painfully at her heart that she stopped with a scream. But as\nthe child grew larger, the heart thread lengthened too. When Hilda\nbegan to run, it had become long enough for her to trot and creep\nthrough all the halls in the palace, without disturbing the queen; and\nwhen she was two years old, it reached from the farthest end of the\npalace park, so that Hilda could frolic on the grass without hurting\nher mother; and when she had gained her fifteenth year, the length of\nthe heart thread allowed her to drive three hours in a carriage drawn\nby spirited horses, without pulling the hearts of the mother and child.\nBut Hilda did not exceed this distance, for if the heart thread grew\ntight, it hurt her little heart, and she impetuously insisted on being\ntaken back to her mother.\n\nHilda grew finely, the heart thread constantly lengthened, the mother\nand child were one, and yet independent of each other, when one day it\nhappened that the queen was sitting in her tower chamber, while Hilda\nand her nurse were walking on the seashore. Suddenly the queen felt a\npain in her heart such as she had not had for a long, long time.\nShrieking, she rushed out on the balcony, to look for her child; for\nfrom there she could get a view of the whole palace park, the shore,\nand the sea. She instantly discovered the nurse, who was running up and\ndown the beach screaming and wringing her hands, and saw on the sea a\nship moving swiftly away with all her sails spread. The queen knew, by\nthe way the ship was built, that she was a pirate craft. Pirates had\ncome, seized the Princess Hilda, and were now carrying her to their\ndistant country.\n\nThe queen called despairingly for her admirals, sailors, and soldiers.\nWhen they came hurrying in the greatest consternation, she commanded\nthem to put to sea at once with the strongest warship in her navy. The\nhasty preparations did not occupy much time, it is true; but when the\nvessel weighed anchor, the pirates were no longer in sight. The queen\nhad sailed too. She stood beside the helmsman, and as she felt\ndistinctly and painfully where the pull at her heart was, she could\ntell him the exact direction in which to steer the ship.\n\nThe queen\u2019s man-of-war was larger, stronger, and swifter than the\npirate craft. After a chase of two hours, the pursued vessel hove in\nsight. The queen urged her men to set every sail, her ship cut swiftly\nthrough the water, the distance between the two constantly lessened,\nthe pull at the queen\u2019s heart diminished, her pain ceased, and she soon\ncame so near the pirate vessel that she could see Hilda, guarded by two\npirates, sitting on the forward deck, weeping.\n\n\u201cYield!\u201d the queen commanded her captain to shout through the speaking\ntrumpet to the pirate, \u201cyield, and we will show you mercy.\u201d\n\nBut the pirates only laughed scornfully, and sailed on as fast as they\ncould, to escape their pursuers. But the queen\u2019s ship came nearer and\nnearer, and already they could calculate how soon they would be\novertaken.\n\nWhen the queen\u2019s man-of-war was within a few cable lengths of the\npirates, they seized the Princess Hilda and threw her overboard. The\nqueen\u2019s people uttered a cry of horror. Only the queen herself remained\ncalm. She stood erect beside the railing of the ship, moving her arms\nand hands, as if she was drawing something invisible. The sailors\nthought that the queen was practising some magic; for they did not see\nwhat she was pulling. But she drew quickly and strongly on the heart\nthread, and the Princess Hilda followed it and soon reached the side of\nthe ship, where the sailors could fish her out of the water and place\nher in her mother\u2019s arms. The pursuit of the pirates was continued with\ndouble zeal, the pirate craft was soon overtaken and sunk in the sea\nwith all on board, so that from that time the shore of the queen\u2019s\nkingdom was safe from their attacks.\n\nWhen the queen returned to her palace with her rescued child, she\nordered a great banquet to be prepared for her admirals, soldiers, and\nsailors. But the fright, excitement, and plunge into the cold sea had\nmade Princess Hilda ill, so that she had to go to bed. Her mother\nremained by her side to nurse her. During the night she fell asleep\nfrom weariness, and then Death came stealing softly in to take Hilda.\nHe was already stretching his bony arms toward the little girl when he\nsaw the heart thread which went from her to her mother, and shone like\ndull gold in the light of the night lamp. He hesitated, cautiously\ngrasped the thread, and tried to break it in two. But it resisted, and\nDeath accomplished nothing by his struggle except to wake the mother\nand child, and be seen by them.\n\nPrincess Hilda hid her head under the bedclothes, but the queen seized\nher heavy gold sceptre, which stood in the corner, and struck Death\nwith all her might, screaming, \u201cBegone, monster, begone!\u201d\n\nDeath was ordered to bring only Hilda, not the queen. As he could not\nget one without the other, he was obliged to be off with his errand\nunfinished. Tearing himself away from the queen\u2019s blows, which almost\nbroke his rattling bones, he vanished in the darkness. Hilda recovered\nand continued to grow until she became a beautiful, tall young lady,\nand the queen\u2019s old nurse said that the princess ought to marry. But\nthe queen would not hear of it, saying impatiently, \u201cThere is plenty of\ntime, nurse, there is plenty of time.\u201d\n\nIt happened, however, that a prince from a neighboring country came to\nvisit the palace, saw Hilda, and, dazzled by her beauty, exclaimed,\n\u201cThis lovely princess must become my wife; she or no one.\u201d He pleased\nHilda, too, and when he asked her if she would make him happy by giving\nhim her hand, she answered, \u201cYes.\u201d\n\nThe young pair went to the queen and begged for her consent to the\nmarriage, but the queen said, \u201cNo, it cannot be.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d asked Hilda, bursting into tears.\n\nHer mother clasped her in her arms, kissed her tenderly, and answered\ngently: \u201cDon\u2019t ask why; only believe me, it cannot be. Stay quietly\nwith me. Nowhere can you be happier than with your mother.\u201d\n\nBut Hilda did not see this, and when the prince urged her to fly with\nhim to his kingdom and marry him there, she allowed herself to be\npersuaded, mounted his horse at nightfall, and dashed away with him.\nFor several hours they rode at full gallop, without Hilda\u2019s repenting\nher disobedience. But long as the heart thread was, it was not endless,\nand toward midnight, when she had almost reached the frontiers of her\nmother\u2019s kingdom, it grew tight, and would stretch no farther. Hilda\nfelt a violent pull at her heart, and began to suffer intense pain. Yet\nher love for the prince was so strong that she bravely bore her torture\nand rode on with him, though at every step of the horse she suffered\ncruelly.\n\nBut the queen in her castle also felt the pulling of the heart thread,\nand knew by it that her child had fled. So, in the midst of the dark\nnight, she prepared for pursuit as quickly as possible; she could not\nbear the pain in her breast. She rode like the wild huntsman, she rode\nlike the wind, she rode like the lightning, and in the gray dawn of\nmorning she reached the pair, who could not go forward as quickly,\nbecause it was hard for the horse to carry two. \u201cStop, stop!\u201d called\nthe queen, and when she had overtaken the fugitives she said\nreproachfully: \u201cHilda, you have left your mother. Your mother could\nnever have brought herself to desert you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the way of the world,\u201d replied the prince; \u201cwe were sure that\nyou would forgive us, your Majesty.\u201d\n\nHilda dismounted from the horse, hid her face on her mother\u2019s bosom,\nand said softly: \u201cMy heart gave me great pain, and drew me violently\nback to you. But I cannot leave the prince.\u201d\n\nThe queen embraced her and answered tenderly: \u201cWe two must not part.\nYou will not wish me to leave my kingdom and follow you into a foreign\nland. Turn back, both of you. You shall marry the prince, and after my\ndeath he shall become monarch of my kingdom.\u201d\n\nThen the prince and Hilda joyously embraced each other and kissed the\ngood queen\u2019s hand, and they all went back, and the inhabitants of the\ncountry crowded around their carriage, rejoicing. When they were again\nin the palace, festivals were held for the court, the servants, and the\nsubjects, which lasted three weeks; then Hilda and the prince were\nmarried, and when Princess Hilda stood at the altar in her bridal veil,\nshe threw her arms around her mother\u2019s neck and whispered in her ear,\n\u201cThough I have a husband, I will never, never leave you.\u201d\n\nAnd she never did leave the queen, who always loved her just as dearly\nas when she was a little child in her arms. The heart thread remained\nso fine that no one except the queen could see it; it was so long that\nPrincess Hilda never felt it when she was in the kingdom; but if she\ntravelled in foreign countries, her mother always went with her, so\nthat the heart thread was never pulled.\n\nYears passed away, the queen grew older and older, till at last she was\nso aged that life became a burden. Now she herself called Death, whom\nshe had once driven away, and when he appeared before her somewhat\ntimidly, said to him: \u201cFriend Death, you can take me now. I am ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the heart thread?\u201d Death objected. \u201cI cannot tear it, and I have\nno instructions to take the princess with me.\u201d\n\nThen the weary queen thought of again appealing to the fairy of the\nchildren, who had so kindly aided her a long, long time ago. She went\nup on the tower of her palace after sunset, and when the storks\ncarrying the children began to fly past, she called one and begged him\nto tell the fairy of the children that the queen earnestly desired to\nspeak to her.\n\nThe stork delivered the message on his return home, and the next day\nthe fairy of the children appeared before the queen. The fairy had not\nchanged at all. She still had the same tall figure, sparkling eyes, and\ngray hair, was robed in blue, with a little white lace cap on her noble\nhead; but the queen was no longer the beautiful young woman of former\ndays, but a shrivelled old dame, with dull eyes and snow-white hair.\nThe fairy gazed compassionately at her a little while, then she stroked\nher white head and wrinkled cheeks, asking gently, \u201cWhat do you want of\nme, dear child?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear fairy of the children,\u201d pleaded the queen in a faint voice, \u201cthe\nheart thread has lasted well, but now it is time to break it. You alone\ncan do it. Please part it, that Death may lead me to rest. For I am\ntired.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy child,\u201d replied the fairy of the children, \u201cthe heart thread no one\ncan unbind, I no better than Death. But you need have no anxiety on\nthat account. Go trustfully to rest, and rely on me. Your child shall\nhave no discomfort from it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do trust you,\u201d said the queen, kissing the kind hand of the fairy of\nthe children. The fairy pressed a kiss upon her forehead, nodded, and\nvanished from her sight.\n\nAbout midnight Death appeared again, and said curtly: \u201cIt is all\narranged. You can come with me.\u201d In the morning the queen was found\ndead in her bed. The Princess Hilda, who was now queen, grieved very\ndeeply, but was gradually comforted, as children always are when they\nlose their parents. Yet from that time she could never resolve to leave\nher kingdom, for if she crossed the frontiers, her heart began to ache\nstrangely and drew her back to her mother\u2019s marble tomb, which she\nvisited daily. And when she, too, grew very old, and at last died, she\nwas buried in the same grave beside her mother, and the gold heart\nthread, unseen by human beings, extended forever from the heart of the\ndead mother to the heart of the dead daughter.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECRET EMPIRE\n\n\nEarly one morning, after a stormy night, the workmen in a great seaport\nfound a little girl upon the shore. She was lying with nothing on but a\nlittle shirt, dripping wet upon the sands, and gave no sign of life. At\nsome distance from the beach they saw the top of a mast rising from the\nwater. A large ship had gone down with all on board, and the waves had\nbrought to land only this one little girl.\n\nA compassionate laborer took her up, wrapped her in his cotton blouse\nand carried her quickly to the neighboring office of a tidewaiter,\nwhere her wet shirt was removed. She was laid on a bench and covered\nup. As soon as she grew warm, she opened her eyes, and began to cry.\n\nEverybody in the office admired the child\u2019s delicate form, beautiful\nlittle rosy face, big blue eyes, and fair silken curls. The little\nshirt was made of the finest cambric, and embroidered with a gold\ncoronet. Even without this mark it was evident that the child cast by\nthe shipwreck on a foreign shore was of aristocratic birth, and had\nbeen carefully tended.\n\nWhen the baby cried, the men standing around were very sorry, but they\ndid not know what to do, for they did not understand how to take care\nof little children; and, besides, they did not have on hand what was\nnecessary to satisfy its wants. The child had not yet cut all its\nteeth, and could only stammer a few words in an unknown tongue.\n\nThe men consulted together, and soon agreed that the baby must be\nhungry and need, first of all, food and clothes. There was nothing in\nthe office except some horrible brandy. But close by there was a\nsailors\u2019 tavern, where they could get some milk and biscuits, which the\nlittle girl ate readily. When she had had some food, she stopped crying\nand fell asleep.\n\nThe tidewaiter was obliged to attend to his duties and could not stay\nwith the child. The kind laborer who had carried her into the office\nalso had to work, for he was a poor man, and if he lost a day\u2019s work,\nhe and his family would have nothing to eat the next day. Yet he could\nnot make up his mind to leave the lovely little girl. Rolling up the\nwet shirt, he put it carefully in his big blue calico handkerchief, and\nslipped it into the wide pocket of his trousers. Then he again wrapped\nthe poor, naked little creature in his blouse and in a woollen blanket,\nwhich the tidewaiter lent him, and went home with his precious burden\nin his shirt sleeves, though he did not consider it quite the proper\nthing for a respectable workingman and the father of a family.\n\n\u201cHitherto you have given me children,\u201d he said to his wife, as he\nplaced the little one in her hands, \u201cnow I will give you one.\u201d\n\nThe woman gazed at the present with astonishment and no special\npleasure; she thought that her own five children were enough. But when\nher husband told her how he had found the little girl, her mother heart\nwas touched with pity and she said: \u201cWhere five are fed, a sixth can\neat too. We will keep the little one, if no one claims her.\u201d\n\nSo the little girl was adopted into the workman\u2019s family, and the next\nSunday he went to report it. The magistrate pondered over the name that\nshould be given to the stranger child. A gale from the north had driven\nher ship on the shore. It had probably come from the north. Yet the\nchild might have been born in the south. So he called her by a name\nhalf Greek, which is a southern, and half Danish, which is a northern\nlanguage, Margarita B\u00f6lgebarn, that is, Pearl, the child of the waves,\nand urged her foster-father to take great care of the little shirt,\nwith the tiny embroidered gold crown, in which she was found, as with\nits help perhaps the child\u2019s relatives might some day be discovered.\n\nMany ships had been wrecked during that stormy night, and it was never\nknown which one had carried the child. No one appeared to claim it, so\nit remained with the workman and grew up with his children. Rita\u2014as\nthey called Margarita to shorten her name\u2014grew finely, although she did\nnot fare well with him. It was very hard for the man to support himself\nand his family. They were often on short commons, and when there was\nnot enough to eat for all, Rita had to wait until the others left\nsomething for her, and frequently went without entirely. Her\nfoster-mother was not a bad woman, but poverty had made her hard, and\nher own flesh and blood came nearer to her than the foundling whom she\nhad adopted. She did not grudge her a little place in the miserable\nhome, but she was not allowed to cost anything; for the father\u2019s scanty\nearnings did not permit it.\n\nRita slept in the same bed with the two youngest children, who pulled\nthe scanty coverlets over them and left Rita half uncovered, so that in\nthe winter nights she was bitterly cold, and nestled closely to her\nfoster-sisters to get some warmth from their bodies. She turned over\noften, because this was the only way she could warm her right and left\nside in turn; but this disturbed her bed-fellows, and they cuffed and\nkicked her. She bore it, and only wept secretly, because it was still\ndark, and no one could see her. She was dressed in the clothes of her\nfoster-sisters, after they could not or would not wear them any longer.\nSo she usually went barefoot, and wore shabby, patched, shapeless\ngarments. But though she looked like a scarecrow, every one who saw her\nnoticed her remarkable beauty. Her little bare feet, though sunburnt\nand soiled by the mud of the streets, were as exquisite in form as if\nchiselled by the hand of a skilful sculptor; her face was fair, rosy,\nand lovely; her large blue eyes were soft and dreamy, and her silken\ncurls, carelessly as they were arranged, seemed like sunbeams playing\naround her beautiful head. Wherever she went, people stood still in the\nstreets and looked after her. They thought she must be some\naristocratic girl, who, for a whim, had disguised herself as a beggar\nchild.\n\nThis did not escape the notice of her foster-sisters, and they envied\nher for her beauty, and because she attracted attention wherever she\nappeared. They made her feel more and more plainly that she was a\nfoundling living on their charity. Everybody vied in giving her orders,\nand required her to obey them. Everybody made her serve as a\nmaid-servant waits upon strict employers. She had to sweep the rooms,\nand once a week scrub and polish the floor. She had to light the fire\nin the kitchen every morning, and every evening, until late at night,\nclean the shoes of her foster-parents, her four foster-sisters, and\neven her foster-brother. She was obliged to do all the errands, and if\nthere was no money in the house, let herself be scolded because she did\nnot pay the debts and beg them to let her have still more on credit.\nShe was so scantily dressed that the neighbors took pity on her and\ngave her all sorts of things, some shoes, another a skirt, a third a\nwaist, a fourth a shawl, each one what she had and could spare. She\nwent hungry, too, and when they saw it, people secretly gave her in the\nhouses, the shops, and at school, a bit of bread and end of sausage, an\napple, or a piece of Dutch cheese. As she was always gentle and kind,\nnever spoke in a loud voice, never quarrelled, never uttered an\nimproper or a coarse word, her foster-sisters jeered at her and\nscornfully called her the princess. For they all knew that she was\nfound in a fine little shirt with a small gold crown embroidered on it;\nthey had seen the pretty garment themselves, though their father kept\nit carefully wrapped in paper in a drawer, and did not often bring it\nout to show any one, and when they thought that perhaps Rita really was\na royal child, they were provoked, yet at the same time it gave them a\nspiteful pleasure to have a princess subject to the children of a plain\nworkman, and obliged to do the most menial tasks for them.\n\nFrom the time Rita was old enough to understand her position, she, too,\nthought constantly about her origin, and busied herself waking and\nsleeping about the secret of the little gold crown embroidered on her\nshirt. She had an eager longing to see and touch the dainty linen; but\nshe did not dare to ask, for once, when she did so, her foster-father\nroughly refused, saying harshly, \u201cDon\u2019t think about it; it would only\nfill your head with silly notions.\u201d\n\nShe had gradually learned where she had been found, and often went to\nthe shore, sat down on the sand, and gazed out over the sea to the spot\nwhere the ship which had brought her here had sunk, and where perhaps\nher parents were resting at the bottom of the water. Then deep sorrow\noverwhelmed her, and tears filled her eyes. She felt as if she must\nplunge into the waves, go down into the depths to her own kindred, and\nnever return to her poverty and toil. She did not long for wealth and\nsplendor, only for a mother\u2019s love. How wonderfully delightful it must\nbe to be embraced by a mother\u2019s arms, allowed to kiss and caress her,\nand know that she was her own little girl! This joy she had never\nknown, and she envied her foster-sisters who, in other ways, had so\nlittle for which to be envied.\n\nWhen she was fourteen years old she had to begin to earn something. At\nfirst she sewed jute coffee-bags, but after a few days the\nsuperintendent herself said to her, \u201cRita, this labor is too coarse for\nyou, you can do something better,\u201d and without consulting her\nfoster-family she sent her to a milliner, where Rita liked her work\nvery much, for there she had to make, of fine straw or lace, pretty\nhats for women, with velvet and silk, ribbons, flowers, and feathers,\nwhich she had much natural taste in arranging. They tried the hats on\nher for customers to see, and as everything was becoming, and the most\nexpensive the most so, the ladies bought them very readily. She soon\nreceived good wages, which she took home honestly to her foster-mother,\nwho in return treated her somewhat more kindly.\n\nRita was reserved and always liked to be alone. Her foster-sisters and\nher companions in the workroom thought this was pride, and resented it.\nShe was only absorbed in her own thoughts, because her mind was\nconstantly dwelling upon the little gold crown, the ship at the bottom\nof the sea, and those who were drowned in it. On Sundays and holidays\nshe either stayed in a corner of the room, dreaming, or went to walk\nalone, usually on the shore, but often, too, in a little wood not far\nfrom the city. The other members of the family did not trouble\nthemselves, but took their pleasure without her, and this suited her\nexactly.\n\nOne Sunday, soon after Easter, she again went into the wood to enjoy\nthe early spring. A short time after leaving the road and passing under\nthe trees, she saw a squirrel playing merrily in the top of a tree,\njumping from branch to branch, peeping at her with its bright eyes, and\nthen leaping to the next tree. Rita followed, that she might enjoy his\ngraceful sport longer. The little creature sprang on before her, Rita\npursued, and without knowing it, still led by the squirrel, reached the\nmiddle of the wood, a place where the trees grew very close together,\nwhich she had not yet seen. Suddenly she no longer saw the squirrel,\nand searched everywhere for him with her eyes, unable to imagine where\nhe could be. While turning her head in every direction, she saw at the\nfoot of a large beech a hole, half hidden by moss and large ferns. Rita\ncautiously approached to peep in, when the treacherous covering of\nplants gave way under her feet, and with a cry she slipped down the\nopening. She closed her eyes and thought this would be the end of her.\nShe fell a long, long distance, till it seemed as if she was resting on\na warm bosom, and clasped by loving arms. Rita opened her eyes, and\nwhat she saw astonished her so greatly that she thought she must be\ndreaming.\n\nShe was standing on the threshold of a lofty, spacious hall, more\nmagnificent than anything she had ever seen or believed possible. The\nwalls were covered with white silk tapestry, countless chandeliers\nfilled the whole space with brilliant light, and she did not know which\nto admire first: the huge mirrors, the gilded chairs with white silk\nseats, the tables with mosaic tops inlaid with gems, or the throng of\npeople in glittering uniforms and magnificent costumes who filled the\nhall. Rita had no time to inspect all this splendor. By her side stood\na tall lady with a very proud bearing and a wonderfully beautiful face,\ndressed in a white silk gown, embroidered with silver threads, and a\nveil fastened with a diadem on her golden hair, which fell over her\nback to the edge of her skirt. This lady had caught Rita in her arms\nwhen she fell into the depths. She bent the knee before her three times\nin low curtseys, bowed her head, then rose, took Rita by the hand, and\nled her into the hall.\n\nAt the moment she crossed the threshold, solemn music sounded, an\nofficer of gigantic height uttered a command, halberds were dropped\nwith a loud noise on the polished floor, and between two ranks of tall\nsoldiers of the guards in splendid uniforms, who stood like walls, Rita\nwalked slowly with her companion through the whole length of the hall\nto a golden throne at the end, which stood on a platform covered with\ncloth of gold beneath a purple canopy. The white-robed lady, by a wave\nof her hand, invited Rita to ascend the three steps of the platform and\nseat herself upon the throne. When the young girl had taken her place,\nthe music ceased, the lady lifted from a small table, which stood\nbeside the throne, a silk dress, embroidered with silver, which she put\non Rita, a blue velvet mantle, lined with ermine, which she threw over\nher shoulders, and a crown of gold and diamonds the size of a pigeon\u2019s\negg, which she set on her head. Then, again bending the knee before\nher, she said in a voice which sounded like a silver bell, \u201cWelcome to\nyour kingdom, royal mistress.\u201d\n\nShe moved aside, and now ladies in rich court dresses, with long trains\nand brilliant jewels, and gentlemen in uniforms covered with gold lace,\nwearing swords by their sides and orders on their breasts, approached\nand paid homage to Rita. The ladies kissed her hand, the gentlemen\npressed their lips to the edge of her ermine mantle. About a hundred or\nmore ladies and gentlemen greeted Rita in this submissive manner.\n\nFor a long time Rita did not dare to open her lips. At last, when the\ncourtiers had paid their homage, she turned to the white-robed lady\nstanding beside the throne and asked timidly: \u201cWhere am I? What does\nall this mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are in your kingdom, royal mistress,\u201d replied the lady, \u201cand your\nloyal subjects are happy to be permitted to offer you their homage.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d answered Rita, bewildered; \u201cyou are mistaken. I\nam only a poor milliner\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so, royal mistress,\u201d said the lady; \u201cwhatever you may be\nconsidered in a foreign country does not matter. Here you are our\nillustrious young empress, and at heart you know it perfectly well, and\nhave always known it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen the little gold crown on my shirt\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cIs the sign of your rank, royal mistress.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut explain to me\u2014what does it all mean\u2014who are you?\u201d\n\nThe lady made a sign, the guards with clanking steps drew back to the\nwalls of the hall, the courtiers formed a wide semicircle around the\nroom, the ladies in the front row, the gentlemen behind them, and in\nthe midst of a deep silence she began:\u2014\n\n\u201cRoyal mistress, I am the White Lady, the attendant fairy of your\nillustrious family, whose duty it is to watch over all who are of your\nroyal blood. Do not believe that I have neglected this duty. But foes\nwho are more powerful than I have prevented me from performing it as I\nought and wished to do. Know that you are the daughter of the emperor\nand empress of Thule, and their lawful heiress. Here are the portraits\nof your noble parents. They welcome from their frames their lovely\ndescendant.\u201d\n\nThe White Lady pointed with outstretched hand to the wall behind the\nthrone. Rita turned eagerly and saw at the right and left of the purple\ncanopy the life-size portraits of a handsome man in crown and imperial\nmantle, and a woman who looked like a being from the heavenly world. At\nthe sight she began to weep bitterly, and the whole court sobbed with\nher. The White Lady waited until she was calm again and then went on:\u2014\n\n\u201cFor ten long years your father had reigned gloriously in Thule, like\nhis father, his grandfather, and thirty-three ancestors before them for\na thousand years. Then one day the King of the Pole, without any cause,\ndeclared war against him and with his army of ugly dwarfs invaded\nThule. The Pole King is a great magician, who reigns over the polar\nbears and the whales, and when he chooses can produce such cold that\nthe air freezes and sends thunderbolts from the northern lights, which\nkill every living creature. Our regiments could not withstand his\nthunderbolts and polar bears, our ships could not resist his cold and\nhis whales. He conquered Thule, and your parents could do nothing\nexcept fly with you, royal mistress, and their court on their last\nship. But even on the sea the wicked wizard pursued them, he conjured\nup a terrible storm which struck them here, drove their ship on the\nshore, and wrecked it. The waves swallowed all on board, I was\npermitted by the higher powers to save only you, royal mistress. This\nis the sorrowful history of your illustrious family.\u201d\n\nShe was silent, and Rita, too, remained silent a long time, for she was\nmuch excited by all she heard and saw. After some time she calmed\nherself and asked: \u201cWhat is to be done now? Will you not take me back\nto my kingdom of Thule?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d replied the White Lady, \u201cthat is not possible. Between here and\nyour kingdom lie three seas and four broad countries, with soldiers and\nfortresses on their frontiers, besides five ice mountains, six burning\ndeserts, and seven raging rivers. And even if we crossed all these\nobstacles on the way to Thule, we should find there the King of the\nPole, who would do you some harm.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen must I stay here always?\u201d asked Rita, anxiously.\n\nThe White Lady sighed, and the whole court did the same.\n\nRita did not know what time it was, but she must have been a long while\nin the throne room, for she began to feel hungry. At first she was\nashamed to ask for anything; but when the gnawing in her stomach grew\ngreater, she thought, \u201cI am empress, and have a right to command.\u201d So\nshe said: \u201cDear fairy, could not I have something to eat? I am very\nhungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cRoyal mistress,\u201d replied the White Lady, sadly, \u201cwe have nothing\nhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot even a bit of bread?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot even a bit of bread. Your courtiers and your guard need no food,\nnor your attendant fairy either.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I must starve to death if I stay here.\u201d\n\nThe White Lady lowered her eyes, as if ashamed, and remained silent.\n\n\u201cIf this is so,\u201d said Rita, sadly, \u201cI suppose I must leave you.\u201d\n\nAs she received no answer, she rose from the throne and slowly\ndescended the steps of the platform. As her foot touched the polished\nfloor, trumpets blared, shouts of command were heard, the guard marched\nfrom the sides of the hall to the centre, dropped their halberds with a\nthundering sound, and formed two motionless ranks, the music again\nstruck up the solemn imperial march, the White Lady clasped Rita by the\nhand, court-marshals with white wands walked before them, court ladies\nwith long trains followed, and thus the magnificent procession moved\ntoward the entrance. Here all paused as if spellbound; the White Lady\nlet Rita\u2019s hand fall and made three low curtseys before her.\n\n\u201cWill you all take leave of me?\u201d asked Rita, anxiously.\n\n\u201cWe must,\u201d replied the White Lady.\n\n\u201cWhat! Will no one go with me? Must I return to my foster-parents all\nalone?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnfortunately we cannot change things,\u201d answered the White Lady,\nsorrowfully.\n\nRita sighed heavily, embraced the White Lady, who kissed her hair again\nand again, while the ladies and gentlemen of the court, kneeling around\nher, pressed their lips to the border of her mantle, and said, \u201cThen\nfarewell to you all.\u201d Tears streamed from her eyes, and she was\npreparing to pass through the door, which two court-marshals held open\nbefore her. At that moment the White Lady said gently, \u201cPardon me, your\nMajesty,\u201d and lifted the diamond crown from her head. Rita stopped in\nastonishment, when she also unfastened the clasp of the ermine-lined\nblue velvet mantle and removed it from her shoulders.\n\n\u201cYou will not even leave me the signs of my rank?\u201d cried Rita.\n\n\u201cIt is the order, and we must obey,\u201d replied the White Lady, removing\nalso the wonderful gown of white silk and silver, so that Rita again\nstood in the plain Sunday clothes of a poor milliner.\n\n\u201cSo the magnificence is all at an end,\u201d lamented Rita. \u201cI am no longer\nan empress, but the foundling, Margarita B\u00f6lgebarn.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so, your Majesty,\u201d answered the White Lady, quickly. \u201cEmpress you\nare, and empress you will remain; no one can rob you of your royal\nrank. True, you will live among the people of this country\nunrecognized; but whenever you choose to come here among your faithful\nsubjects, all the honors due your rank will be shown you, and your own\neyes will convince you that you are our beloved and revered sovereign.\u201d\n\nRita still lingered at the door. It seemed to her very hard to leave\nthe brilliantly lighted hall; but she had no choice. Unless she wanted\nto starve, she must go. So, summoning all her resolution, she crossed\nthe threshold. At the same moment an invisible power seized her like a\nwhirlwind and bore her up with the speed of an arrow. A moment later\nshe was standing under the sunset sky at the edge of the hole at the\nfoot of the great beech tree, and saw on one of its lowest branches the\nsquirrel, which again hopped merrily from tree to tree before her, and\nled her out of the wood.\n\nIt was already dark when she reached home. Though usually they did not\ntrouble themselves much about her, this time they had been anxious, and\nher foster-mother asked her harshly where she had been roving about so\nlong. Rita excused her absence with gentle words. She thought of her\nroyal rank, and could not help secretly smiling at the poor woman, who,\nin her ignorance, treated her so rudely. She remembered her throne\nroom, her courtiers, her body-guard, her diamond crown, and found it\namusing that she was obliged to sit in a poor workman\u2019s room at a table\nwithout a cloth, to a scanty meal of cold sauer-kraut, with peas, black\nbread, and water, and then go to rest on a straw bed, which she now had\nfor herself, since she richly earned it.\n\nAfter the secret of her birth and rank had been revealed to her, a\nchange took place in her which even the dull people who surrounded her\ncould not fail to notice. She was even more quiet and reserved than\nbefore, yet kind and cordial to every one in a way that her\nfoster-family had never seen among the people of her class. At first\nher unvarying graciousness vexed her uneducated companions; for they\nconsidered it affectation, and answered Rita\u2019s pleasant words\nscornfully or roughly. But as this did not disturb her, and her manner\nremained equally gentle and kind, the others were gradually impressed\nby it and began to regard her with a certain shyness. In the\nmilliner-shop, too, the workwomen and customers noticed Rita\u2019s\ndignified manner, and the ladies often said to the proprietor, half in\njest and half in earnest, that there was something so queenly about the\nyoung lady who tried on the bonnets that they scarcely dared to ask her\nto wait on them.\n\nRita no longer, in her leisure hours, went down to the shore where the\nworkmen had found her when she was a little girl, but into the wood to\nthe old beech tree. Sitting on the edge of the hole hidden by the moss\nand ferns, she shut her eyes and let herself slip down. She knew now\nthat two soft arms would carefully catch her. The solemn imperial march\nalways sounded at her appearance, and her courtiers welcomed her with\njoy. She sat in her magnificent robes, with her diamond crown upon her\nhead, an hour or two on her golden throne among her subjects, while the\nWhite Lady told her a thousand things she longed to know: first about\nher parents, especially her mother, who had been a princess of Swan\nLand, then of her ancestors, of her country of Thule, its people,\nmanners, and customs. The court ladies sang to her old songs of the\ngreatness of her race, their wisdom in peace and heroic courage in war.\nLearned chamberlains repeated to her the history of Thule; she was\nshown dolls in the costume of the people, and pictures of her\nancestors\u2019 palace, their castles, cities, and the most beautiful\nlandscapes in her kingdom, till at last she knew everything about Thule\nas thoroughly as if she had always lived there and knew nothing else.\nIt no longer seemed to her hard to leave her throne and return to the\ncity as a poor milliner. In spirit she always lived in her empire, on\nSundays and holidays she was an acknowledged empress amid the splendor\nof her court, and she bore with a patient smile the life she led during\nthe week, when, plainly clad and unnoticed, she lived among the common\npeople as if she were one of themselves.\n\nHer foster-family gradually remarked that she left them on Sundays\ndirectly after dinner, and did not return until the evening, with a\nreflection of secret joy upon her face like one who has been happy\nseveral hours. Her foster-sisters put their heads together and\nwhispered, making all sorts of guesses, which did little honor to Rita.\nThey wanted to find out the secret of her lonely walks, and her\nfoster-brother undertook to follow her unseen. He did follow at some\ndistance into the forest as far as the hole at the foot of the old\nbeech. He did not see the squirrel that sprang before her from bough to\nbough, for his eyes were fixed upon Rita. Suddenly she vanished, and\nwhen he came to the place where he had lost her, he discovered the hole\nunder the moss and ferns. He did not doubt that she had slipped down\nthis hole, but at first he did not think it advisable to go after her.\nSo he sat down on the moss and waited. When, however, an hour, then two\nhours passed, without any sign of life, he plucked up courage and began\nto climb down the dark opening. But the sides were very steep, the\nclumps of grass and moss to which he clung tore away, and amid a hail\nof clods of earth and stones he fell into the depths.\n\nSoiled with dirt, his whole body covered with bruises and bumps, and\nhis clothes torn, he struck against the door, which flew open at the\nshock, and rolled into the middle of the throne room. The commander of\nthe body-guard rushed up to him and ordered his soldiers to seize the\nintruder. But Rita, who recognized the fellow, called loudly, \u201cHalt!\u201d\n\nThe marshal of the court explained that he had forfeited his life, but\nRita repeated: \u201cNot a hair of his head shall be harmed! Obey your\nempress!\u201d Then she said to her foster-brother, who was rubbing his\naching limbs and staring stupidly around him: \u201cIt was very impertinent\nto follow me. This time I will forgive you. But don\u2019t do it again; my\nguards would not let you go a second time.\u201d She motioned to the White\nLady, who gave an order to the officer of the guard. The soldiers\nseized the youth, flung him out of the throne room, and left him lying\noutside of the door. He began with great difficulty to climb up, but\nthe steep walls of earth gave his hands and feet no support, and he\nalways slid down again. At last the White Lady took pity on him, and\nwhen he made another attempt to climb, she raised her whirlwind, which\nseized him and bore him up into the woods.\n\nThe youth limped along groaning, lost his way several times, and did\nnot reach the direct road to the city until twilight was closing in.\nWhen he reached home, Rita had been there a long time. She had told\nnothing about the adventure, and was somewhat anxious to hear what he\nwould say of it to the family. When he saw her, he only grinned and\nsaid nothing. Was he unwilling to tell the story in her presence? But\nhis mother noticed his soiled and torn clothes and the bloody scratches\non his hands, and cried out: \u201cBoy! How you look! What has happened?\nHave you been fighting?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the youth, sulkily, \u201cit\u2019s only our dear Rita and her\nqueer taste that are to blame. I wanted to see where she is always\nrunning. Now I know. She goes into the woods and jumps down into a deep\nhole. This leads into a large cave. I leaped after her, but she seems\nto be more skilful than I am. I fared badly. I almost broke my limbs.\nThe cave appears to get some light through a chink in the rocks on the\ntop. But it is dark, cold, and damp. Rita walks up and down, talking to\nherself. I think she is playing some kind of a farce, in which she is a\nprincess or empress, and wants no listeners, for they would laugh at\nher. Don\u2019t worry, Rita, I won\u2019t disturb you again in your fool tricks.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat will be better,\u201d replied Rita, smiling and gentle as ever. So her\nfoster-brother had seen nothing\u2014neither the magnificent hall nor the\ncourtiers, neither her imperial robes nor the throne. This surprised\nher, it is true, but she was glad. It was better that she should remain\nunrecognized, since she must earn her living as a poor milliner.\n\nBehind her back, her foster-brother told the others that Rita was\nevidently a little crazy, for he had heard her say plainly, in her\ncave, that she was an empress, had guards, and similar silly nonsense.\nThe foster-mother replied that it came from the little gold crown\nembroidered on her shirt, but as her craziness did not seem dangerous,\nthey all thought it would do no one any harm if she was allowed to go\non with her folly, and they closed their eyes to her queer fancies.\n\nSo Rita lived for several years, during the week a poor workingwoman,\non Sundays a great empress, and it did not trouble her at all that she\nalone knew her secret. She was just twenty-one years old when one day\nit happened that a handsome young man, whom she had often met on her\nway from the house to her shop, but without noticing him, came up to\nher in the street, raised his hat, and said, \u201cMiss Rita, will you allow\nme to say a few words to you?\u201d\n\nRita blushed and answered more sternly than was her custom: \u201cI don\u2019t\nknow you. Leave me alone,\u201d and continued her way. The young man stood\nstill, looking after her sorrowfully. She could not help thinking of\nhim all the morning, and though it vexed her that he should have spoken\nto her in the street, she would have liked to know what he wanted to\nsay to her.\n\nWhen she went home at noon, she saw, to her astonishment, the young man\nsitting in her house with her foster-mother. She stood hesitating on\nthe threshold, and the workman\u2019s wife called to her, while the young\nman respectfully rose from his chair: \u201cCome in, the gentleman won\u2019t eat\nyou. He means fairly.\u201d\n\nThe young man now spoke. \u201cMiss Rita,\u201d he said, \u201cI have known you for\nmany months. I have followed you daily, without your noticing it. I\nventured to speak to you in the street, because I thought that would be\nthe easiest way. But you did perfectly right to reprove me, for it was\nnot proper. I ought to have done first what I did not think of until\nlater; that is, introduce myself to your parents.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what do you want?\u201d asked Rita, bewildered.\n\n\u201cMiss Rita,\u201d replied the young man, \u201cI love you, and would like to\nmarry you. Will you give me your hand?\u201d\n\nRita\u2019s heart beat faster, and she lowered her eyes in confusion. \u201cThat\ncannot be done so quickly,\u201d she said, \u201cI do not know you at all\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t refuse,\u201d interrupted her foster-mother; \u201cthe gentleman is a fine\nman and a poet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a poet?\u201d cried Rita, wonderingly.\n\n\u201cAt least I think so,\u201d answered the young man, modestly. \u201cI write poems\nand have them printed. People buy them, and tell me that life seems\neasier and the world more beautiful to them when they have read them.\u201d\n\nAs Rita grew thoughtful and made no reply, he drew a little book from\nthe pocket of his overcoat and gave it to her, adding: \u201cPlease accept\nthis from me, Miss Rita. It contains my verses. Let them speak for me,\nand permit me to come to-morrow for your answer.\u201d\n\nWhen with a courteous bow he left the room, the foster-mother told Rita\nthat she ought to accept this handsome and elegant young man; it was a\npiece of good luck for her, and she would never find anything better.\nRita said she must have time to think over so important a matter, and\nretiring into a corner began to read the poems. They sang of spring and\nsunshine, of blossoming flowers and nightingales, of human beings who\nloved each other and would remain faithful in joy and sorrow, of all\ngreat and noble things which make the happiness of good people. And as\nRita read on, she fancied she heard the old songs of her court singers,\nand the wise words of her White Lady, and her eyes grew dim till at\nlast she could no longer see the letters plainly.\n\nShe thought of the poet all day, and at night she could not sleep. When\nthe next noon he came for his answer, the others went out to leave the\ntwo alone, and Rita said: \u201cI have read your poems, and I like them very\nmuch. You are really a poet. But do you know who I am?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are the sweetest, most beautiful girl my eyes ever beheld,\u201d he\nanswered warmly, \u201cand if you would become my wife, I should be the\nhappiest man on earth, and would never cease to sing and utter my joy\nin verse.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a foundling, and no one knows who my parents were.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour parents were what they were, and you are what you are.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a poor workingwoman, and shall bring you nothing except what I\nhave on my back.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are yourself a treasure, which no gold in the world can outweigh.\nWe will work and shall not lack the necessaries of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me a little more time to think,\u201d she said gently. \u201cSo important a\nresolve cannot be made in an instant.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true,\u201d replied the poet; \u201cbut meanwhile may I at least see you\ndaily?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, you may,\u201d said Rita. Then he kissed her hand and gave her a sheet\nof paper on which, since the day before, he had written new poems for\nher, more beautiful than any of the first ones.\n\nContradictory feelings were struggling in Rita\u2019s soul. She liked the\npoet, and it seemed to her a happy lot to become his wife. But she\nthought she ought not to promise him her hand without asking the advice\nof the White Lady, her only friend in the wide world, and without\ntelling him her secret. She was so impatient that she could not wait\nfor Sunday, but went at once to her wood, without even stopping at the\nshop to ask permission for an afternoon\u2019s absence. She was in such a\nhurry that she did not look around once on the way. So she did not see\nthat the poet, as had been his habit for months, had come after dinner\ninto the neighborhood of her house to follow her to the shop and enjoy\nall the way the sight of her lovely figure. He saw with astonishment\nthat she did not go toward the shop, and that she was walking much\nfaster than usual, so he hastily pursued to find out what she meant to\ndo. Thus he tracked her into the wood, to the old beech tree and the\nhole half hidden by moss and ferns, where she vanished from his eyes.\nWhen he saw her suddenly disappear down the hole, his only thought was\nthat she had met with an accident, and with a cry of terror he ran\nforward and without hesitation leaped after her. He fell on his feet at\nthe bottom, without doing himself any harm, and saw before him, in the\ndim light, tall gilded folding doors, from beyond which he heard the\nclank of arms and solemn music. He resolutely pushed open the door and\nfound himself in the throne room, just at the moment that Rita had\ntaken her seat upon the throne, and the White Lady was clothing and\ncrowning her as an empress. When he saw this, he rushed through the\nranks of the guards to the steps of the throne, knelt, and touched his\nforehead to the floor.\n\nRita had been unable to keep back a low cry of surprise when she saw\nthe poet. This time, too, the guards seized him, but Rita waved her\nhand and commanded them to release him. Descending the steps, she\nraised the poet. He did not dare to look at her, and only murmured: \u201cI\nalways suspected it. You are of royal birth. Graciously forgive my\npresumption in having dared to love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you see my throne and my crown, my hall and my courtiers?\u201d asked\nRita.\n\nThe poet looked at her in astonishment, and replied: \u201cWhy shouldn\u2019t I?\nThe splendor dazzles me, it is true, but it does not wholly blind me.\u201d\n\nRita, turning to the White Lady, said: \u201cHe is a poet, and he wants to\nmarry me. What do you advise me to do?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour Majesty,\u201d replied the faithful fairy, \u201che is of a good race. He\nhas the eagle eyes, which see secret things. He is an aristocrat, for\nhe is a poet. If you love him as he does you, marry him.\u201d\n\nRita blushed deeply and cast down her eyes, the White Lady took her\nhand and laid it in the poet\u2019s, the courtiers burst into loud cheers,\nthe music struck up a joyous march, and the portraits of the emperor\nand empress of Thule, on both sides of the throne, began to shine\nwonderfully. The court-marshal bent the knee before the poet and said,\n\u201cYour Highness, by your engagement to our illustrious imperial\nmistress, you become Prince Consort, and have a right to the highest\nhonors.\u201d He gave a low order to a page, and instantly several court\nlackeys appeared with purple velvet cushions, on which lay a gold\nembroidered uniform, the ribbon of an order, a sword, and gold spurs,\nand placed them all on the floor at the foot of the throne. Rita asked,\nsmiling, \u201cWill you put these on?\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare not\u2014the honor is too great\u2014not to-day,\u201d answered the poet in\nbewilderment. Then in a lower tone he added, \u201cYour Majesty\u2014beloved\nRita\u2014since you are willing to give me the greatest happiness\u2014since I am\nyour betrothed husband\u2014I will venture to make one request\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d asked Rita, kindly.\n\n\u201cSend your courtiers away\u2014let us be a moment alone\u2014that I may embrace\nyou for the first time as my bride.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no solitude for an empress,\u201d said Rita; \u201clet us go.\u201d\n\nRising, she walked, leaning on her future husband\u2019s arm, amid the usual\nhonors, to the door, left her imperial robes in the hands of the White\nLady, and a moment later, with the poet, was at the entrance of the\nhole. Here, under the rustling branches of the old beech, seen only by\nthe faithful squirrel, Rita was clasped in her lover\u2019s arms and\nexchanged the first kiss.\n\nThe poet was dazed by all he had seen and experienced, but he did not\nventure to question his bride. Rita guessed what was passing in his\nmind, and on their way home told him all. Only she begged him to keep\nit secret, for if he repeated the story, people would merely laugh at\nthem.\n\nThe betrothal was celebrated at the foster-parents\u2019, and the wedding\nsoon followed, with two celebrations,\u2014one in the secret empire, and one\namong ordinary mortals. Rita left her work place and opened a\nmilliner\u2019s shop herself, and the poet, in his happiness, wrote the most\nbeautiful poems and became very famous. During the first year of their\nmarriage, they often went to the wood, and the young husband found\ngreat pleasure in sitting in his princely robes upon the golden throne,\nbeside his imperial consort. But at the end of a year the stork brought\na little child, and for some time Rita could not go out, and her poet\ndid not know whether he could appear at court alone. After a month Rita\nwent to the wood again for the first time, taking with her her baby, on\nwhich she had put the little shirt with the gold crown, which her\nfoster-father had given to her on her wedding day, and descended to the\nsecret empire to present her child to the courtiers. There was great\nrejoicing and paying of homage, and the White Lady took the little one\nin her arms, caressed it, and whispered ardent wishes for its\nhappiness. When her faithful subjects had grow calm again, Rita\naddressed them in a very grave tone: \u201cNoble lords and ladies,\u201d she\nsaid, \u201cwe shall see each other to-day for the last time. My work, my\nchild, my husband, claim all my hours, and I no longer have any\nhalf-days of leisure to spend in your midst. Your loyalty touches me,\nbut unfortunately it is of no use. Return to Thule, make your peace\nwith the King of the Pole, and remember me faithfully, as I shall\nalways remember you. And now, farewell.\u201d\n\nThe ladies and gentlemen fell upon their knees. All were sobbing. Tears\nrolled down the cheeks of even the old guards. The White Lady, weeping\nsoftly, clasped Rita in her arms and would not let her go. She gently\nreleased herself, took up her little child again, gave her hand kindly\nto all, and slowly approached the door. Here she cast one last look at\nthe court, the hall, her crown, and her royal robes, kissed the White\nLady for the last time, and in an instant was in the upper world.\n\nAt the foot of the old beech, Rita said sadly to her husband: \u201cThe\nsacrifice is made. The imperial splendor is over forever.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the poet, bending the knee before her. \u201cTo me you are and\nalways will be the empress, as I felt and recognized you before you had\nrevealed yourself to me in your magnificence, and so you always will be\nto your children also, now and forever.\u201d\n\nAnd so it was. Wreaths were afterward bestowed on the poet, which he\nlaid at the feet of his wife. They became prosperous and distinguished,\nhad numerous children, reared them to be excellent men and women, whom\nthey taught that they must be better and more competent than ordinary\npeople; and though no one of them became an emperor or an empress, they\nwere all such estimable citizens, that, after many, many years, when\nRita was dead, the grateful city placed a monument on the spot upon the\nshore where little Margarita B\u00f6lgebarn had been found.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE TAME LION\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in the Levant, in a castle surrounded by\npalm groves, a wealthy nobleman. He was very fond of hunting, and often\nwent out to chase gazelles and boars. But in the wooded mountains which\nsurrounded his estate there were often also tracks of great beasts of\nprey: bears, panthers, and even lions, and then he could not rest until\nhe had driven away or killed them, and thus rid the country of them.\nOne day lions had again appeared in the neighborhood and destroyed the\nfarmers\u2019 cows and sheep. They came running to the castle with cries of\ngrief, begging for help. The nobleman at once organized a hunt. He soon\ndiscovered numerous tracks, which showed that there was a family,\nperhaps a whole troop of lions. After a sharp pursuit, they succeeded\nin surrounding the robbers in a valley. There were a terribly large and\nfierce lion, his lioness, three cubs, and another full-grown lion,\nperhaps a brother or a friend of the family. When the huge lion saw\nhimself driven into a corner, he said to his wife: \u201cSave yourself and\nthe little ones. I will face the men until you are safe. Then I will\nfollow. If I should fall, remember me, and bring up the cubs to be\ncapable lions.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will stay with you,\u201d cried the other lion, standing, eager for\nbattle, at his side.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d commanded the father of the family. \u201cCover the retreat of my wife\nand children. I will fight my battle with the men alone.\u201d\n\nSpringing from the bushes with a terrible roar, he dashed at the\nhunters, thus attracting to himself all the arrows and spears, and the\nwhole pack of dogs also rushed upon him. His companion took advantage\nof this to lead the lioness and her three cubs out of the valley in the\nopposite direction. The few beaters who were stationed there moved\naside in terror, and when the flying lions had the beaters behind them,\nthey hurried with long leaps up the mountain, on whose other side they\nwould be safe.\n\nThe lion which had made the stand had struck down with heavy blows of\nhis mighty paws the first dogs which ventured to rush upon him; but,\npierced by numerous wounds, soon fell himself. He yielded up his life\nwith one last roar, which thundered through the valley like a farewell\nto his fleeing family. Not until he lay dead in his blood on the ground\ndid the hunters look after the other lions, and discovered them on the\ntop of the mountain which they had already reached. Instantly a new and\neager chase began, with shouts, winding of horns, and barking of dogs.\nThe lioness and her companions had a considerable start, and could\neasily have escaped their enemies, but the three cubs could not keep up\nwith them, and fell behind. The hunters and the pack came nearer and\nnearer, arrows were already whizzing around them, the little ones\nuttered a whine of fear, and their mother stopped.\n\n\u201cForward! forward!\u201d roared her companion, sternly.\n\n\u201cI will not leave my children to fall into the hands of human beings,\u201d\nreplied the lioness. Then she quickly but tenderly licked their eyes\nand noses, saying, \u201cWe must carry them, they cannot keep up.\u201d\n\nShe seized two in her mouth by the skin at the back of the neck, the\ndevoted friend took the third in the same way, and they continued their\nflight. The lioness, whose strength was doubled by her maternal love,\ndashed forward with tremendous bounds. But the male lion was not used\nto carrying a cub in his mouth, the burden delayed him, and he could\nnot follow the lioness. The hunters were close at his heels, he lost\nhis presence of mind and dropped the cub intrusted to his care, that he\nmight fly faster. This cowardly forgetfulness of duty did not save him.\nHe was struck by several spears, and fell dying. The cub, which was\nvainly trying with its little soft paws to run after its mother, who\nwas already far away, was instantly surrounded by the pack, which would\nhave made short work of it if their master had not jumped into the\nmiddle of the barking, howling, snapping circle and driven the dogs\nback. Seizing the spitting, scratching little lion, he put it in a bag,\nand gave the signal with the horn that the hunt was over; for he saw\nthat the lioness had escaped, and he was very well satisfied with\nhaving killed two grown lions and captured a lion cub alive. When the\nlioness saw that the hunters were no longer following her, she lay down\nwith her two rescued little ones to rest and wait for her companion\nwith the third. As he did not come, she bravely set out, after several\nhours, to look for him, but found only his skinned carcass and no trace\nof the third little one. She burst into a piercing wail of grief and\ndragged herself slowly back to the two cubs she had left. This day\u2019s\nhunt had robbed her of a husband and a child, without counting the\nfriend. Her lamentations for the dead filled all the animals in the\ndesert with terror all night long.\n\nMeanwhile the little lion had been taken to the castle, where all the\nmembers of the household gathered around him to admire him. He was the\ndearest little creature, no larger than a big cat, with fine yellow\nfur, and a heavy tassel at the end of his tail. At first he behaved\nbadly, biting and scratching everybody who wanted to pat him. But\ngradually he grew quiet and became trusting and tame. At his age people\nforget quickly and easily accommodate themselves to changes. His mother\nand brothers, and the free life in the forests and desert, soon\nvanished from his memory; he knew only the human beings who fed him\nliberally and treated him kindly; he willingly allowed himself to be\npetted, thanking them for it by loud purring and licking with his\nlittle rough tongue, and became a favorite with everybody. He slept in\nhis master\u2019s room on soft rugs, played and tussled with the children of\nthe family in the castle courtyard, and ran after the nobleman in his\nwalks like a dog. He had been given the name of Samson, and came\nobediently when he was called. He considered himself a member of the\nfamily and clung to the persons whom he regarded as his relatives with\nall the warmth of his lion heart.\n\nHe was by no means popular with the other domestic animals. The horses\nsnorted and kicked if he put his head into their stable or came near\nthem in the meadow behind the castle, the dogs growled and showed their\nteeth, the fowls scattered before him, flapping their wings and\nsquawking. He was friendly to them all, but they all repulsed him\nunkindly. Only the cat was gracious from the beginning and persistently\nsought his society. She treated him respectfully and addressed him in\nthe tone of an inferior. When he grew larger and became a sensible\nyoung lion, she made remarks upon his manner to the other animals. \u201cYou\nought not to be too familiar with the rabble of horses and dogs,\u201d she\nsaid.\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d asked the lion. \u201cDon\u2019t we all live under the same roof? Are\nwe not companions and friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the cat, \u201cyou are a prince, and the others are a race of\nslaves. You are a lion, and the others are mares and curs. You treat\nthem as your equals, and their gratitude is to hate you. They would\ngladly kill you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t believe it, cat,\u201d cried the lion, indignantly.\n\n\u201cYet it is so,\u201d the cat insisted. \u201cTo human beings, too, you ought to\nbe more mindful of your dignity as the son of a king. Do not give your\nheart to them. They will reward your love with ingratitude.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow listen,\u201d growled the lion. \u201cI will not allow you to speak ill of\nmy master and his family. I belong to them and they belong to me; we\nare one flesh and blood; I have my recognized place in the household,\nand nothing can separate us.\u201d\n\nThe cat bowed humbly and stole sadly away, for the lion turned his back\nupon her.\n\nSamson grew up to the full size and strength of his species. Yet his\ndisposition did not change; he remained affectionate to the lord of the\ncastle and his wife and children, his playmates, and friendly to all\nthe domestic animals. But gradually they began to treat him\ndifferently. The mistress complained that he smelt badly and would not\nallow him to remain in her room. In order not to hurt his feelings, he\nwas told that he had now grown up, and it was not proper for him to\nhave his bed at night in his mistress\u2019s room. He was given a sleeping\nplace in the kennels; but the dogs declared that he was a stranger and\nan intruder; they refused to let him stay among them, and to prevent a\nriot in the pack, they were obliged to assign a special barn to the\nlion. The nobleman\u2019s children no longer wanted to play with him; for\nalthough he submitted to everything from them and lovingly stroked and\nlicked them when they cuffed and pulled him, they were secretly afraid\nof him. If he asked them to romp with him, according to their custom,\nin the castle courtyard, they sent him word by a servant that they had\nno time, they were busy with their teachers. It became uncomfortable\nfor the neighboring landowners to meet him roaming freely about, when\nthey came to the castle, and they accused the owner of carelessness.\n\u201cSuch beasts can never be trusted,\u201d they said; \u201csooner or later their\nnature will break out.\u201d They repeated this so often that he at last\nbecame uneasy and ordered Samson to be chained. When the servants\nprepared to obey this direction, the lion uttered a roar, which made\nthem start back as fast as possible. They told their master that Samson\nrebelled against being confined, and the nobleman went down into the\ncourtyard himself and said, \u201cBe good, Samson, let us adorn you with\nthis little chain.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why?\u201d the lion complained. \u201cWhat have I done to deserve\npunishment?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is no punishment,\u201d replied the nobleman soothingly, caressingly\nplacing, as he spoke, the thick, heavy chain around his neck; \u201cit is a\ndistinction. You shall ornament my courtyard by day, and be free at\nnight.\u201d\n\nSamson hung his head and submitted quietly to his master\u2019s will. Now he\nwas a prisoner, scorned and mocked at by all the occupants of the\ncourtyard. The horse kicked out at him as it passed, the dogs barked at\nhim, and did all sorts of naughty things just beyond the reach of his\npaws, and even the fowls scratched and cackled boldly close in front of\nhis terrible jaws. Samson would not notice it. He made himself believe\nthat all these things were unintentional. \u201cHorses kick because it is\ntheir nature,\u201d he said to himself; \u201cit is the nature of dogs to be\ndirty, and the hens show their touching confidence in me by going on\nwith their affairs just under my nose.\u201d\n\nAt night he was always released from his chain and walked around the\ncastle walls, as a tireless watcher, until the morning. Neither enemy\nnor evil-doer dared to come near when he saw on the top of the wall, or\nbehind the battlements of the tower, in the moonlight, his huge figure\noutlined against the dark sky, or on moonless nights heard the thunder\nof his voice. On hunting days, too, the lord of the castle unfastened\nSamson\u2019s chain and took him with him. Then the lion conquered for him\nboars, aurochs, and bears, dragged the prey in his mouth to the castle,\nand did work which otherwise would have required twenty brave and\nstrong huntsmen. And when it was all over, he patiently let the chain\nbe put on again, licked the aching wounds which he had received in the\nbattle with the strongest and most dangerous animals in the wilderness,\nand rejoiced that he had again been able to be useful to his master.\n\nThen the house cat stole up to him and whispered in his ear: \u201cPrince,\nnow you see how they treat you! You ought not to submit to this\nunworthy fate any longer!\u201d\n\n\u201cUnworthy fate? That, adorned with a magnificent chain, I am placed\nbeside the gate as the most beautiful ornament of the castle?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, Prince, you do not believe that yourself. Use the liberty which is\ngiven you; they want to profit by your strength in hunting! Stay in the\nforest! Remember that your home is there, that there you are master!\u201d\n\nBut the lion started up and answered fiercely: \u201cNot another word, or\nI\u2019ll break your neck. My home is here in the castle. I am the kinsman\nand companion of its owners, and will not listen to your senseless\ntattle.\u201d\n\nMeanwhile his mother had never forgotten him. She mourned him for years\nand always remained in the neighborhood, because she hoped some time to\nlearn what had happened to him after he had fallen into the hands of\nhuman beings. When the rumor began to spread among the animals of the\nwoods and the wilderness that the lord of the castle was using a lion\nto help him in hunting, a lion, which, contrary to all justice and\ncustom, attacked the sons of the desert and wrought more havoc among\nthem than twenty men, it finally reached her ears also, and she\nrejoiced loudly, though the monkeys, peacocks, and gazelles brought the\nstory to her in perplexity and anger. Her mother heart instantly\nsuspected that the hunting lion of the castle lord was her own lost\nson, and she bade one of the two sons who had remained with her to make\ninquiries, and to try whether he could not approach his brother and\nbring him back to his family.\n\nThe lion set out one dark night, trotted swiftly over the desert,\nacross the mountains, and through the forest to the palm grove, stole\ncautiously through it to the wall around the castle, and was just\npreparing, by the exertion of all his strength, to leap over it, when a\nterrible voice from above thundered, \u201cWho goes there?\u201d At the same\ninstant he saw two large, fiery eyes glaring at him from the darkness.\n\nThe voice, which would have filled any other living creature with\nfright, made his heart throb joyfully, for he recognized it as that of\none of his own kin. \u201cA good friend!\u201d he called back in a subdued tone;\n\u201ccome down to me, if you are free, and, if not, I will come up to you\nand set you at liberty.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I am free,\u201d replied the lion on the top of the wall,\nproudly; \u201cbut who are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a lion like yourself; more, I am your brother, your own flesh and\nblood. I have come to take you back to our mother, from whom men stole\nyou when you were very small, and who has never ceased to mourn for\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou lie!\u201d the lion called back from the wall. \u201cI am no lion, but an\ninhabitant of the castle; my brothers are the sons of the lord and lady\nof the castle. I have no others. Begone, or it will be the worse for\nyou!\u201d\n\nThe blood of the lion at the foot of the wall began to boil with rage.\n\u201cScoundrel!\u201d he shouted angrily. \u201cYou have no lion soul. You have\nbecome a cowardly slave of man. Once more: will you return to us, or\nshall we finally thrust you out of our community?\u201d\n\nSamson uttered a roar, which echoed horribly from the distant\nmountains, \u201cBegone, if you value your life!\u201d His thundering voice waked\nall the inmates of the castle, the dogs began to bark furiously, people\nbegan to move about in all the rooms, weapons clanked, doors banged;\nthe lion outside heard these threatening noises and thought it\nadvisable to retreat. He hastened back through the forests and across\nthe mountains to his mother in the desert, and reported the failure of\nhis mission.\n\nThe lioness listened to his story with deep feeling. \u201cI know now that\nmy child is living. That is the main thing. We must not wonder that he\nis estranged from us. The cunning of men has poisoned his young mind.\nBut it cannot be difficult to make the voice of blood speak. You did\nnot understand how to manage him. I will go and talk with him myself.\nYou shall see that I will bring you a brother who will be glad to have\nfound his relatives again.\u201d\n\nShe scarcely waited for night to close in before she set out for the\ncastle. Her two sons and several neighbors and friends followed at a\nshort distance, to aid her in case of danger. The lion was keeping\nwatch that night even more carefully than usual, saw her coming a long\ndistance off, and shouted a fierce \u201cHalt!\u201d before she had reached the\nfoot of the castle wall.\n\nThe lioness\u2019s strong heart trembled when she heard the challenge. She\nrecognized the father\u2019s voice in the son\u2019s. \u201cYour mother has come to\ntake you home. My son, come down! Let me lick your dear face.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are talking nonsense,\u201d replied the lion, roughly. \u201cI don\u2019t know\nyou. I am Samson, the comrade of men, and have nothing in common with\nsuch people as you. If you were not a woman, I would show you that I am\nnot to be insulted with impunity.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this the way you speak to your mother, who has mourned you for\nyears?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe devil is your son, not I,\u201d Samson answered.\n\n\u201cIs it possible,\u201d groaned the lioness, \u201cyou deny your own blood, you\nforget your origin, you shame the memory of your glorious father, who\ndied for you? You cast off your mother, you serve the men who killed\nyour father, and are your worst enemies\u2014\u201d\n\nSamson\u2019s only answer was to roar: \u201cLoose the dogs! Send out the\narchers! The foe!\u201d\n\nThe lioness saw that further efforts were useless, and she went back to\nthe wilderness in bitter grief.\n\nThe next morning, when the lord of the castle put on Samson\u2019s chain, as\nusual, he scolded him sharply.\n\n\u201cYou must be crazy to make such a terrible racket as you have done for\nthe last two nights. You roused us all out of our sleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cForgive me, master,\u201d replied Samson, humbly; \u201cthere were lions around\nthe castle with evil designs. I was obliged to do my duty as watchman.\u201d\n\n\u201cLions?\u201d asked the nobleman, looking at Samson, suspiciously.\n\n\u201cYes, my lord,\u201d answered Samson; \u201cand I advise you to arrange a great\nhunt without delay to destroy the band of robbers.\u201d\n\nThe lord of the castle went out of the gate, searched in the\nneighborhood of the walls, and soon found numerous lion tracks on the\nground. He called the neighbors together, they appeared with their\npacks of hounds in the castle courtyard, and set out with great tumult,\nshouting, and barking of dogs for the hunt. Samson waited vainly to be\nset free from his chain. When the lord of the castle passed him, he\ncried: \u201cAnd I? Am I not going with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall hunt lions to-day,\u201d replied the lord of the castle.\n\n\u201cThat is just why I want to go,\u201d said Samson.\n\n\u201cBut they are your relatives,\u201d observed the nobleman, \u201cand it might be\npainful for you\u2014\u201d\n\nSamson, deeply offended, interrupted: \u201cMy relatives? Have I deserved\nthis from you? Do I no longer belong to you? What have I in common with\nthe lion rabble? I beg you to let me share the hunt. You must not\nrefuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you choose,\u201d muttered the castle lord, and reluctantly unfastened\nthe chain.\n\nSamson was no sooner free than he sprang out of the gate with\ntremendous bounds and rushed to the head of the hunters. Always far in\nadvance of all the others, he followed with impatient haste for hours\nthe tracks leading through the desert, until he had overtaken the\nlions. When he saw the troop of fugitives, fresh ardor for battle\nseemed to seize upon him, and he dashed forward with such fierce\neagerness that the dogs and the hunters could not keep up with him. He\nreached the lions almost alone, and with open jaws and a tremendous\nroar sprang with a mighty bound into the very midst of their group.\nThey instantly surrounded him, fiercely attacked him, struck him to the\nearth with heavy blows from their paws, and tore his body with teeth\nand claws, while his brothers shouted in fury, \u201cDeath to the traitor!\u201d\n\nBut before they could wound him dangerously, his mother was at his side\nroaring to his assailants, \u201cBack! back!\u201d Then she turned to Samson, who\nlay bleeding on the ground with foaming jaws: \u201cGo back to your men, if\nyou find your happiness with them. I lose you to-day for the second\ntime. Go! go!\u201d Without a single glance behind she continued her flight,\nthe other lions followed her, and all soon disappeared beyond the\nmountains.\n\nMeanwhile the pack had reached Samson, who was left alone. In the heat\nof the chase, they either did not recognize him or pretended not to do\nso, and pressed upon him thirsting for blood. He was still dazed by the\nrecent battle, and the sudden attack of his hunting companions so\nastonished him, that he made no movement to defend himself. In an\ninstant ten bloodhounds were hanging to each paw, six to his tail,\neight to his ears, mane, and lips. He could only utter one piteous call\nfor help, then he died under the bites of countless greedy teeth. His\nmother heard his death-cry at a long distance and returned without\ndelay to help him. She came too late to save her son and could only\nshare his fate. When the lord of the castle reached the spot, both\nlions were dead. He could do nothing but drive away the dogs, that they\nmight not tear them to pieces and spoil their skins.\n\nThe nobleman had these made into a cover for his bed and a rug, and\nwhen afterward he had guests who were strangers, he proudly showed them\nthe magnificent skins, and told them all the details of the history of\nthe lions, one of which, amid great peril, he had captured partly with\nhis own hand and made his chained slave, and the other he had killed in\nbattle. Then the listeners admired his courage and praised him for his\nbrave deeds.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLOWER PRISON\n\n\nOnce upon a time a student took a summer journey through Switzerland.\nAs a good gymnast, he was a bold and skilful mountain climber, who\nliked to scale the steepest cliffs and the highest peaks. In many ways\nhe was an excellent young fellow; but he had no regard for animals and\nplants, which enjoy their lives as well as we, and do not harm human\nbeings. This was very strange because he was a forester\u2019s son, and\npeople who live in the woods are usually fond of everything that blooms\nand runs and flies, except toadstools and beasts of prey. When he lived\nat his father\u2019s house, the student shot squirrels and crows, often even\ncuckoos and thrushes, which enliven the silent forest with their calls\nand songs.\n\nIn Switzerland he would have liked to kill chamois and marmots; but he\ndid not see these pretty creatures except in the zo\u00f6logical garden,\nwhere they were safe from his murderous gun. So he vented his love of\ndestruction on the poor, defenceless flowers. If he came to an Alpine\nmeadow, he behaved like a savage. He gathered all the blossoms he could\nreach, not a few to put in his hat, not to dry one or another to keep\nas a memento of the beautiful days of travel, not even to give to\nbeloved friends or acquaintances, but from pure wantonness. He pulled\nthem by dozens, by hundreds, till he had an immense bunch, which he\ncarried for a while until he grew tired, and then merely threw it away.\n\nHe was especially fond of plucking Alpine roses and edelweiss, not only\nbecause they are particularly beautiful, but because they grow in\nplaces very hard to climb, so it needs much strength, skill, and\ncourage to reach them.\n\nOne day he had again climbed the mountains with alpenstock and\nknapsack, and came to the border line of the perpetual snow. Below him\nlay the dark pine woods and the sunny pastures, on which cows with\ntinkling bells were grazing. He could only hear the distant sound, but\ndid not see the cattle, the meadow, and the huts of the herdsmen, for\nhe was far above the clouds and they concealed everything below. Before\nhim was a steep field, completely covered with Alpine roses. Here and\nthere an edelweiss raised its velvety, star-shaped blossom above the\ngreen grass. The student tore up all the flowers he saw, the single\nones, those growing in bunches, the full-blown blossoms, the partly\nopened ones, and the buds. All were stuffed into his knapsack, which\nwas soon filled. After spending an hour in this way, there were no more\nflowers to pick. The field, which had looked like a carpet richly\nembroidered with gold and silver, was now entirely green.\n\nHe looked around to try to discover a few more victims, and saw at some\ndistance above him a large rock, which projected like a huge nose from\nthe precipice. This boulder was completely covered with the most\nbeautiful edelweiss. He had never seen so many of these wonderful\nblossoms in one place. It seemed as though they had fled there to find\na refuge where they would be safe from the pursuit of hostile men, for\nit was almost impossible to reach them. The overhanging rock was\nconnected with the mountain only by a narrow ridge like a bridge, and\neven this was so steep and rough that it would have been difficult even\nfor a chamois to cross it.\n\n\u201cAha, there\u2019s something for me!\u201d cried the student, joyously, and at\nonce prepared to risk the dangerous crossing and reach the rock, where\nhe meant to seize the edelweiss. But he had scarcely touched the narrow\nridge, where he could only move forward on his hands and knees, when he\nsuddenly saw a woman\u2019s figure. Raising her finger in warning, she\ncalled loudly, \u201cStop!\u201d\n\nHe stood up and stared at her in astonishment. Where could she have\ncome from? he wondered. Had she perhaps been lying in the tall grass so\nthat he did not see her? Her appearance was rather unlike other women.\nShe was dainty, delicate rather than strong, small rather than large.\nShe wore a full white silk gown over a green petticoat, and her little\nsilvery white feet were bare. In her golden hair was a wreath of the\nmost beautiful flowers of every color. In spite of her anger, her face\nwas very lovely, and she was surrounded by a delicious perfume like the\nfragrance of roses, lilies, violets, and carnations, which could be\nnoticed at a considerable distance.\n\nThe student quickly recovered from his surprise and took a step\nforward. But the stranger cried a second time: \u201cStop! No farther!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d he asked insolently. \u201cDoes this mountain belong to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cBack!\u201d she called, without answering his question, \u201cyou have nothing\nto do here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are very familiar,\u201d he replied scornfully; \u201cperhaps we know each\nother?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know you,\u201d said the stranger. \u201cYou are a wicked man. You are a\nmurderer of the flowers. Look at your knapsack! It is filled with\nblossoms which you have cruelly killed. But you shall at least leave me\nthese edelweiss. Why do you pursue them here? Cannot they be safe, even\nthus high above the world, from your designs?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not answer you in the same familiar way,\u201d replied the student,\nmerrily; \u201cfor it is my habit to be courteous to young ladies. But I\nshall not turn back for your sermon, excellent as it is. The flowers\nare for human beings. I want these edelweiss, and I shall do whatever I\nchoose with them.\u201d\n\nHe again began to climb and creep forward. The stranger drew back\nbefore him, exclaiming, \u201cYou will repent it.\u201d He only laughed and soon\nreached the projecting rock. The white-robed girl was standing in the\nmidst of the edelweiss, which were turning their silvery stars toward\nher from every direction as if imploring her aid.\n\n\u201cLet me warn you for the last time,\u201d she cried; \u201cdo not sin against me\nand my flowers!\u201d\n\nThe young man\u2019s only answer was to break off a number of the finest\nedelweiss and offer the bouquet, with a mocking bow, to the beautiful,\nangry girl. She dealt him a light blow on the hand. It was as if a\nbutterfly had brushed him with its wings in passing; but a shock darted\nlike lightning through fingers and arm to the shoulder, and he was\nobliged to drop the flowers as if paralyzed.\n\n\u201cYou have pronounced your own sentence. Go; before the day is over your\npunishment will overtake you,\u201d she said solemnly, and before he could\nmake any reply she had vanished.\n\nFear suddenly seized him, and he hurried as fast as he could away from\nthe mysterious rock with the edelweiss, down to the pasture where the\ncows with the tinkling bells were grazing. He felt relieved when he saw\nthe herdsman, asked for a drink of milk, and told him the strange\nadventure he had just had.\n\nThe herdsman listened intently, and said: \u201cDo you know who that was? It\nwas the Flower Queen.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat? Have you a Flower Queen in free Switzerland?\u201d asked the student,\nforcing a jesting tone.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t mock,\u201d replied the herdsman, very gravely. \u201cShe is powerful, and\nit is not wise to make her angry.\u201d\n\nThe student wished to inquire still farther, and went on: \u201cQueer that\nthe royal lady runs about barefoot! Doesn\u2019t she catch cold up here? Or\nis she trying the Kneipp cure?\u201d\n\nThe herdsman cast a sullen look at him, turned his back, and went into\nhis hut, whose door he banged loudly behind him. The student said no\nmore and continued his way down the mountain.\n\nTrue, he did not exactly believe the story of the Flower Queen and her\npower, yet he could not conquer a feeling of anxiety, and was much more\ncareful in climbing than usual. He reached the little town at the foot\nof the mountains without accident, went to his hotel, flung the\nknapsack with the Alpine flowers carelessly into a corner of his room,\nand dressed for dinner.\n\nWhen he opened his door to go to the dining room, he suddenly stood\nstill in astonishment. In the corridor was a dense mass of flowers,\nwhich formed a ring around him. There were Alpine roses and edelweiss,\ngentians, rhododendrons, and violets, such as he had gathered in his\nlove of destruction in the meadow above. And not only these, but tall,\nproud lilies and irises, modest forget-me-nots and primroses, fragrant\njasmines and scentless corn-flowers and poppies, which he was in the\nhabit of tearing up or breaking with his cane in his walks through the\nfields and meadows. He rubbed his eyes. His senses must be deceiving\nhim. He had never seen these flowers in the passage before. To convince\nhimself of their reality, he stepped forward and stretched his hand\ntoward them. The flowers drew back the same distance, and were beyond\nhis reach. He turned toward the side\u2014the same thing happened. The\nflowers moved away before him and followed behind. Not until he almost\nstruck the wall with his nose did the blossoms vanish before him; but\nwherever there was room for them on the floor to remain at the proper\ndistance, they stood in close ranks about him. The flower circle moved\nwith him, swiftly or slowly, as he walked quickly or slowly, stopped\nwhen he stopped, kept always at the same distance, and opened only when\nit met a wall or some similar obstruction.\n\n\u201cHocus-pocus,\u201d he muttered, turning on his heel to convince himself\nthat he was shut in on all sides. After a moment\u2019s thought, he shrugged\nhis shoulders, thinking: \u201cWhat harm will it do me? On the contrary, it\nis very amusing to be accompanied by a guard of flowers.\u201d\n\nHe now went downstairs to the dining hall, where many other persons had\ngathered. He had secretly hoped that he was the only person who saw the\nring of flowers, and it would be invisible to every one else. But he\nfound at once that this was by no means the case. He had scarcely\nentered, surrounded by his moving circle of blossoms, when all the\nguests stopped eating and stared at him. Some half rose from their\nseats to see better, others even left them and came nearer. One little\ngirl cried out, \u201cOh, look at the lovely flowers which are moving near\nus!\u201d ran to the ring, and tried to gather a lily. But her hand grasped\nonly the empty air, and running back to her mother, she hid her face in\nthe folds of her gown, afraid of these queer flowers which the eye saw,\nyet the fingers could not touch.\n\nThe student pretended not to notice the stir in the dining room, and\nrapped for the waiter. The man came, started at the sight of the\nflowers which surrounded the guest and his table, and at first seemed\nto wish to climb over them. After a short hesitation, he changed his\nmind, and without heeding the student\u2019s impatient calls he went quickly\nto the head waiter to tell him the extraordinary thing which he had\njust seen. The head waiter told the proprietor of the hotel, and the\nlatter went himself to the student, toward whom all eyes were turned.\n\n\u201cSir,\u201d said the landlord, \u201cwe cannot have any jugglery here. I beg you\nto stop this trick.\u201d\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t allow you to say such things to me,\u201d cried the student,\nexcitedly. \u201cI\u2019m no juggler, I am a student.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen put a stop to this flower show,\u201d ordered the hotel keeper,\nsternly.\n\nThe student only shrugged his shoulders, muttering impatiently, \u201cI\ncannot.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case,\u201d replied the hotel-keeper, \u201cI must ask you to leave my\nhouse at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d answered the student, \u201cI\u2019ll go early to-morrow morning.\nBut give me something to eat now, for I\u2019ve been climbing among the\nmountains all day and am hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, you\u2019ll get nothing here, and I can\u2019t keep you till to-morrow,\u201d\nsaid the hotel-keeper, resolutely.\n\nThe student could do nothing but rise and leave the dining room, still\nsurrounded by his flower ring, which steadily kept pace with him. When\nhe reached his chamber and began to pack, he found his knapsack empty.\nAll the flowers with which he had filled it had disappeared.\n\nHe was obliged to carry his baggage himself, for no hotel servant or\nporter would be seen in the street with him and his moving circle of\nflowers. Children and grown people ran after him with shouts, and at\nevery hotel where he went with his escort of flowers and yelling\nstreet-urchins he was refused admittance. He could get neither a warm\nsupper nor a bed, and had nothing to do except, late in the evening, to\ntake a train and leave the inhospitable little city.\n\nHe had scarcely entered the station when the flowers vanished. He\nuttered a sigh of relief, for he thought he was freed from his flower\nprison. The Flower Queen, he believed gleefully, probably only had\npower in her mountain and in the valley at its foot. It went no\nfarther. But he was very much mistaken, as he was soon to discover. The\nflowers had disappeared only because, in the narrow space, whose walls\nhe could reach everywhere by stretching out his hands and feet, there\nwas no room for their circle. But he had scarcely gone out after a very\nuncomfortable night, scarcely set foot on the broad steps of the\nstation, when the ring closed around him and moved on at the same pace.\n\nFury seized him and he hurled his long alpenstock into the midst of the\nthick, fresh blossoms. Like lightning they swayed far apart, though\nwithout separating, and the staff did not touch them. When, grinding\nhis teeth, he picked it up, the gap closed, and the circle was as\nregular as before. He saw that it would do no good to act like a crazy\nman. The flower prison was securely fastened. He could not escape from\nit. All the running, leaping, striking, and throwing missiles was\nuseless. The flowers were more nimble than he, and the distance between\nhim and the wide hedge of living flowers never changed.\n\nHe actually hated the bright blossoms, whose beauty seemed to mock him,\nand shut his eyes so that he could not see them. But he could smell\ntheir perfume, and the delicious fragrance would not let him forget\nthem for a moment. To escape, he took the only way which had proved\npossible. Amid the stares of all the people in the railroad station, he\nwent on the first train and travelled without stopping home to his\nfather, the forester.\n\nWhen the forester saw his son surrounded by his guard of rare and\ncommon flowers, mountain and field blossoms, he remained motionless\nwith amazement, and could scarcely find words to ask, \u201cBoy, what does\nthis mean?\u201d\n\nThe student told him how the ring had suddenly sprung up around him,\nand had left him only in the railroad station; but did not mention his\ndestruction of the Alpine blossoms and his meeting with the Flower\nQueen.\n\n\u201cOh, father,\u201d he pleaded, after he had finished his story, \u201chelp me,\ntell me how I can escape from this flower prison. If I don\u2019t get rid of\nit, it will be impossible for me to live among human beings.\u201d\n\nThe forester thought a long time, then he said: \u201cI have never seen such\na thing, and don\u2019t understand it. But so far as I know, flowers don\u2019t\nbloom here in the winter. It will soon be autumn. Stay in the house\ntill the frost comes. That will probably kill your blossoms, unless all\nthe laws of nature fail.\u201d\n\nThis was a happy thought. The student threw his arms around his wise\nfather\u2019s neck. He was obliged to interrupt his studies, for he could\nnot return to the university. But he tried to have patience. Four\nmonths would soon be over, then Christmas would come, and his misery\nwould be ended.\n\nTo shut out the unbearable sight of the flowers, he locked himself into\nan attic room, which was almost as small as a closet. No prison could\nbe so uncomfortable as this tiny chamber. But he preferred to be\nsurrounded by board walls, rather than by the moving circle of flowers.\nHe ventured out of his hiding place only on dark nights to stretch his\nstiff limbs a trifle by a walk through the forest, and to breathe a\nlittle fresh air. He did not mind running against trees and stumbling\nover stumps and roots. He preferred anything, even bruises, bumps, and\naching limbs, to his prison of flowers. Yet even during the darkest\nnights they did not remain wholly invisible; for besides the fragrance,\na faint light came from the blossoms, and they shone around him like an\narmy of glow-worms.\n\nHe found the time very long, but it gradually passed, and Christmas\ncame. The winter proved unusually severe. The snow lay heaped\nbreast-high, and in the December nights one could hear the boughs,\noutside cracking in the forest. After a very cold night, the student\nventured out into the forest early in the morning. He had scarcely\npassed the door of the house when the circle of flowers closed around\nhim. He waded through the deep snow, muttering grimly, \u201cJust wait a\nlittle while, this will finish you.\u201d He stayed in the woods until he\nwas almost frozen. His nose was blue, his ears were stiff, his fingers\nlike ice; but the flowers did not seem to be injured by the cold, and\nwere as fresh and fragrant on the snow as if it were the loveliest May\nday. So, after several hours of suffering, the student went back to the\nforest house, and with chattering teeth said, \u201cFather, the frost will\nkill me before it harms those hateful flowers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my poor boy,\u201d replied his father, sadly, \u201cand now my knowledge is\nover. Think for yourself till you find some way to break this magic\nspell.\u201d\n\nThe student shut himself up again in his tiny garret room, and thought\nof his misfortune and how he could escape from it. At last he had an\nidea. Perhaps his father was right; the cold must surely kill the\nflowers, only the frost was not severe enough here. Suppose he should\ngo to the north pole, or as near it as he could get? He would see\nwhether the blossoms would stand it there too.\n\nNo sooner was this plan thought of than it was done. His preparations\nwere soon made, and that very evening he left his home to go through\nthe fog and darkness to take the train in the nearest city. For several\ndays he travelled without stopping straight toward the north, as far as\nthe railroad went, then he went on board a whaler, which carried him\nfar up into the icy seas, and did not leave the vessel until the frozen\nwater would allow no farther passage. But he had scarcely set his foot\nupon the boundless plain of ice when the whole circlet of flowers\nsprang up on it and moved along with him as gayly as ever, blossoming\nas brightly about him as if the mildest spring breeze was stirring\ntheir petals.\n\nThis time the student determined to defy them. He set forth, dragging\nafter him a little sledge loaded with provisions, thinking spitefully\nhow much the blossoms would suffer in the fierce winter cold. The\nnorthern lights alone brightened the gloomy, pathless wilderness of\nice; the polar bears often trotted up to him, but stopped when they saw\nthe unknown flowers, and dared not cross their circle. For a week the\nyoung man bore all the discomforts of the polar night; the cold, and\nthe tiresome tramping over the rough ice; then he saw that the flowers\nwere not harmed in the least, and discouraged and disheartened he gave\nup the trial. Now he attempted to find a ship again. It was not easy,\nand when, after many anxious days, he at last discovered one, he sailed\nback, always keeping shut in his cabin, to Hamburg.\n\nWhat was to be done next? The flowers could bear the most severe cold\nwithout injury; he knew that. Perhaps drought and a hot sun would be\nworse for them. He determined to go at once to the desert of Sahara,\nwhere no plant can live. Over land and sea, in cars and ships, he\nhastened to Africa, and made his way into the wilderness as fast as he\ncould. When the camels saw his ring of flowers, they dashed madly up to\nfeed on them. But they only bit the empty air, and looked so\ndisappointed and astonished that the student would have laughed\nheartily if he had felt inclined to be merry. The Bedouins, too,\ngathered around the stranger, staring in wonder at the magnificent\nflowers on the burning yellow sand, where they had never seen even a\nblade of grass or a tiny green leaf. Then they threw themselves in the\ndust before him, believing that he must be some great magician. They\ninvited him into their tents, entertained him with milk and dates, and\nmade him understand that they wanted him to be their chief.\n\nThe flowers throve in the heat of the desert just as well as in the ice\nat the pole. The student soon saw this. But here they attracted\nflattering notice, and instead of making him miserable brought him\ndignity and honor. He became accustomed to the thought of spending his\nlife among the Bedouins as their lord and ruler. Under such pleasant\ncircumstances his flower prison did not trouble him, and he snapped his\nfingers at the Flower Queen. It was hard to give up his home; but he\nwas still young, and who could tell what might happen.\n\nBut his comfort did not last long. The former ruler, whom the Bedouins\nhad removed on his account, plotted to ruin his successor. He persuaded\nthe oldest men of the tribe to ask the Father of the Flowers, as they\ncalled the student, for a perpetually flowing spring and frequent rain\nfor their oasis. They followed the crafty Bedouin\u2019s advice. The\nstudent, though he could not understand a word of Arabic, knew very\nwell what they wanted, and replied that he could not fulfil their wish.\nThey did not believe it, for a magician who could make a thick, fresh\nhedge of flowers grow out of the sand of the desert must surely be able\nto give them a spring and rain if he only would. His refusal was\nnothing but sheer malice, for which they would punish him. They agreed\nto kill him in the night. A Bedouin woman, who pitied the young\nforeigner, warned him in time, and with her help he escaped in the\ntwilight.\n\nThe glory of ruling and the pleasant life were again over. In despair\nhe returned to Europe, and when he reached the coast of the\nMediterranean, he asked himself whether it would not be the wisest\nthing he could do to jump into the sea and end his imprisonment by\ndeath. But when he was preparing for this wicked act, a secret voice\nsaid: \u201cPerhaps I can soothe the Flower Queen. She looked so young and\nlovely. She cannot be pitiless.\u201d\n\nHe summoned fresh courage and again travelled day and night, over sea\nand land, until he reached Switzerland and the foot of the mountain\nchain, where the misfortune had overtaken him. Still surrounded by the\ncircle of flowers, he climbed with his knapsack to the pine-wood and\nthe pasture up above the clouds to the steep hillside, saw the\nprojecting rock, with the dense growth of edelweiss, and with a\nthrobbing heart climbed across the narrow ridge to the overhanging\nboulder. He had scarcely stepped on it when the Flower Queen stood\nbefore him, looked sternly at him, and exclaimed, \u201cAre you here again?\u201d\n\nAt the same moment his ring of blossoms scattered, all the flowers\nhastened to their Queen, surrounding and nestling closely to her, and\nfor the first time in many months he was free from his prison, even in\nthe open air.\n\nKneeling before the Flower Queen, he raised his hands beseechingly and\nsaid humbly: \u201cFair Queen, be content with my punishment. Forgive the\ncrime I committed against you and your flowers, and which I deeply\nrepent.\u201d\n\nShe was silent a short time, and then replied, \u201cRepentance is not\nenough; I demand atonement.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do to atone?\u201d he asked anxiously.\n\n\u201cLook at this slope below us. It resembled a gay carpet. Now it is\nwholly green, not a single blossom adorns it. You must plant it with\nflowers again. When you have made it as gay as it was before, the\npunishment shall be taken from you.\u201d\n\nThe student wanted to ask her how he should set to work, but she\ndisappeared, and his flower prison, which had separated, once more\nclosed around him. He went back to the field, sat down on the grass,\nand wondered how he should begin to plant flowers here. Suddenly a\nthought darted through his brain. He started up and stretched his hand\ntoward the circle of flowers. Lo!\u2014it did not move back, his hand did\nnot grasp the air, but seized a beautiful clump of Alpine violets,\nwhich quietly allowed him to hold them. He pulled gently\u2014the violets,\nwith all their delicate roots, remained in his hand. True, there was no\ngap in the ring, another flower sprang up in the place of the clump of\nviolets. Digging a hole in the ground with his penknife and his\nfingers, he planted the violets and moved away several steps. His ring\nof flowers followed, but the violets remained.\n\nNow he knew enough. He hurried down to the little city, bought, amid\nthe stares of the people, gardening tools and provisions enough to last\nfor some time, and went back to the field above the clouds. From dawn\ntill twilight he worked with the greatest industry, dug hole after\nhole, took flower after flower from his ring, planted them, watered\nthem abundantly from a neighboring spring, and scarcely allowed himself\nfifteen minutes rest for his scanty meals.\n\nThree or four weeks passed, a large portion of the field was again gay\nwith beautiful flowers growing thickly together, when to his intense\njoy he noticed that the flowers which he still drew from his ring were\nno longer replaced with others. The circular hedge first grew narrower,\nthen gaps appeared, then one-quarter, one-half, three-quarters\nvanished, and one day he put the last blossom in the earth, and there\nwas nothing more left of the ring. He knelt again and called aloud,\n\u201cOh, Queen, are you satisfied with my work?\u201d\n\nBut the Flower Queen did not appear, only a strange movement ran\nthrough the countless blossoms in the field, as though they were all\nnodding their lovely little heads.\n\nThe student picked up his knapsack and went down to the valley. He cast\nstolen glances around him on the way, but no flower followed. He was\nreally free from his prison of blossoms, and could again live with\nother men.\n\nBut while planting the Alpine meadow he had gained such a taste for\ngardening that he resolved to devote himself to this profession. So he\nbecame a very famous florist, and several beautiful varieties of\nflowers, which he introduced from foreign countries, still bear his\nname.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIFE AND DEATH\n\n\nAt the foot of a giant mountain, with a snow-capped head, lay a quiet\nvalley, through which flowed a swift little stream. Its waves bathed\nthe roots of an ancient oak, which was reflected in the water. Under\nthe shadow of the tree grew masses of blue gentians and other flowers,\nand in its top a very wise old raven had built a nest.\n\nIt was a midsummer day, the gentians were in bloom, and their petals\nbegan to droop in the heat. Then one blossom, whose neighbor had\nalready lost half its leaves, began to complain: \u201cHow miserable we poor\nflowers are, and what a sad fate we have! We enjoy our lives only\nduring one short spring. A few kisses from the sun, a few beautiful\nnights under the dew and the moonbeams, a few caresses from the evening\nbreeze, a few visits from the moths and pretty gold beetles, a few bird\nsongs, then all the pleasure is over, and it never comes back again.\nBefore we fairly have time to enjoy our lives, they are ended. How much\nhappier is this oak, whose branches rustle above us! It has seen\nthousands of generations of gentians bloom and fade away, yet it still\nlives and perhaps will enjoy the pleasures of spring a thousand years\nmore.\u201d\n\nShe paused and hung her little head sorrowfully. But a roaring noise\npassed through the boughs of the old oak, and the tree in a dry,\ngrating voice answered:\u2014\n\n\u201cLittle fool, you talk as you understand. Yes, I live longer than you\ndo. But you are very much mistaken if you imagine that I am to be\nenvied on that account. The spring sun kisses you awake, as a mother\nrouses her child. You grow without any troubles, and your life is all\npleasure. You know nothing except the joy of spring and the happiness\nof summer, you do not have to bear the sorrows of autumn. You have no\nenemies, you don\u2019t know what it is to struggle and to suffer, you see\nnothing in the world except beauty and pleasure. But I\u2014all through my\nyouth I had to defend myself against numberless enemies who wanted to\ntake my life. I was attacked by grubs and worms, caterpillars and\nbeetles, the greedy teeth of grazing animals, and the poison of tiny\nfungi. After I had escaped all these perils and grew up, what was my\nfate? Storms vented their fury on me, tossed me about, and even broke\nmy branches. The lightning tore my bark in long strips from my body,\nand gave me cruel wounds. Look at me\u2014I am completely covered with\nscars.\n\n\u201cAutumn plucked off all my leaves every year, and winter pierced me to\nmy inmost heart with cold. Long after you were sunning yourselves\nhappily in the spring, I was scarcely thawed out, and still felt the\npricking of the sap as it began to ascend into the frozen boughs. Even\nduring the few pleasant weeks that my scanty blossoms adorned me, I\ncould not help thinking anxiously of the coming winter and its\ntortures. So what do I gain by living longer than you? I have already\nbeen here a thousand years, and when I look back, it seems but a single\nday. The moments of happiness were rare, and all the rest was trouble,\ntoil, and suffering. If I loved a bird that built its nest in my\nbranches, or a flower that grew at my foot, I saw them disappear and\nhad to mourn them. Now I am old, my trunk is hollow, worms are gnawing\nmy roots, my branches are dying. Bit by bit my mouldering body will\nfall into ruin, until pitiless time has entirely destroyed me. I envy\nyou the unvarying beauty and happiness of your life and its swift, easy\nend. If we must die, it makes no difference whether it is a little\nsooner or a little later. Ah, if we never grew old, if we could live\nforever like the mountain giant above us! If you wish a different lot,\nwish for his, not mine.\u201d\n\nAll was still for a time, then the mountain shook with rumbling,\ngroaning noises, and in deep, yawning sounds it spoke slowly, in short\nsentences, interrupted by long pauses:\u2014\n\n\u201cOak, oak, have you no more sense than the blue thing yonder, the\nlittle gentian? Nonsense about my eternity. I, too, shall some day\nperish. Nothing in the world is eternal. The earth itself is not\u2014nor\nthe sun. The air and the water both gnaw at me. They wear me away\ncontinually. You are growing. I am constantly becoming smaller. Some\nday there will be nothing left. Then it will be as if I never had\nexisted, even though I have lasted so long. True, I feel no sorrow over\nit. What does it matter whether I live a long or a short time? There is\nno pleasure in my existence. Here I stand year after year, staring out\ninto the world. Everything is the same to me, summer and winter, day\nand night. Nothing stirs within me. I feel nothing. I hope for nothing.\nI am afraid of nothing. I do not grow as you do. I do not draw up\njoyously, with thirsty roots, the juices of the earth. I put forth no\nleaves and blossoms. I ripen no fruits. No descendants spring up around\nme. I experience nothing pleasant, and nothing unpleasant.\n\n\u201cI think little, I dream dully, am terribly bored, and scarcely notice\nwhat is going on around me. Everything is stupid and uninteresting. How\ngladly I would change places with you! Or even with the gentians that\nlive only one summer. You feel something. I\u2014nothing.\u201d\n\nAt this moment the raven in the top of the tree croaked loudly. \u201cLook\nthere!\u201d he called to the mountain, the oak, and the flowers, pointing\nwith his beak and wings to the brook which rippled through the valley.\nAbove the little stream rose countless tiny, winged creatures, which\nhovered over it like a thick cloud. It was a swarm of ephemer\u00e6. They\nspread their delicate, transparent wings, breathed the fresh air,\nbathed their dainty bodies in the warm sunbeams. Intoxicated by the\nlight and the warmth, the sweet air, thrilling in every nerve with joy\nand excitement, they began to dance: singly, in couples, in bands. They\ndarted to and fro, swung in circles, whirled around hither and thither,\nup and down, with twitching legs and beating wings. Their eyes shone\nwith pleasure. Their shrill buzzing expressed the greatest joy. They\nfelt neither hunger nor thirst, but feasted on the air and sunshine.\nThey did not think of what might be before them. They did not puzzle\ntheir brains about what might happen after. The present hour was\ntheirs, and that was enough. They were alive now, they were enjoying\nall the pleasures of the summer world, they were perfectly happy.\n\nThe sun reached his noonday height and sank toward the west, but the\nephemer\u00e6 did not heed it. They went on dancing, absorbed in their wild\nwhirl, rejoicing in their mutual happiness, until the day was nearly\nover and the evening shadows began to gather in the valley. Then a\ndelightful weariness stole over them, a pleasant, drowsy feeling\ndestroyed their joy in dancing and dulled their senses. They drew up\ntheir legs, folded their wings, and sank down from the air upon the\nbrook. The wonderful memories of the happy day, which filled their\nlittle heads, grew less distinct, everything around them became misty,\nand they fell asleep sweetly, like children who have played until they\nare tired. But they were not asleep. They were dead.\n\nWhen their little bodies covered the surface of the stream, the wise\nraven said to the mountain, the oak, and the gentian: \u201cA long life, a\nshort life, matters nothing. A beautiful life. That is happiness.\u201d","title":"The dwarf's spectacles, and other fairy tales","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":72898}