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+Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Famous Stories Every Child Should Know
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Hamilton Wright Mabie
+
+Release Date: July 8, 2005 [EBook #16247]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS STORIES EVERY CHILD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Diane Monico and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Old Man of the Mountain]
+
+
+[Illustration: (Title Page)]
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS STORIES
+
+Every Child Should Know
+
+EDITED BY
+
+Hamilton Wright Mabie
+
+THE WHAT-EVERY-CHILD-SHOULD-KNOW-LIBRARY
+
+_Published by_
+
+DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & CO., INC., _for_
+
+THE PARENTS' INSTITUTE, INC.
+
+_Publishers of "The Parents' Magazine"_
+
+9 EAST 40th STREET, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE
+COUNTRY LIFE PRESS. GARDEN CITY. N.Y.
+
+
+
+
+ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
+
+
+The stories of "The Great Stone Face" and "The Snow Image" by
+Nathaniel Hawthorne, are used in this volume by permission of Messrs.
+Houghton, Mifflin & Company. Messrs. Little, Brown & Company have
+granted permission for the republication of "The Man Without a
+Country" by Edward Everett Hale.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The group of stories brought together in this volume differ from
+legends because they have, with one exception, no core of fact at the
+centre, from myths because they make no attempt to personify or
+explain the forces or processes of nature, from fairy stories because
+they do not often bring on to the stage actors of a different nature
+from ours. They give full play to the fancy as in "A Child's Dream of
+a Star," "The King of the Golden River," "Undine," and "The Snow
+Image"; but they are not poetic records of the facts of life, attempts
+to shape those facts "to meet the needs of the imagination, the
+cravings of the heart." In the Introduction to the book of Fairy Tales
+in this series, those familiar and much loved stories which have been
+repeated to children for unnumbered generations and will be repeated
+to the end of time, are described as "records of the free and joyful
+play of the imagination, opening doors through hard conditions to the
+spirit, which craves power, freedom, happiness; righting wrongs, and
+redressing injuries; defeating base designs; rewarding patience and
+virtue; crowning true love with happiness; placing the powers of
+darkness under the control of man and making their ministers his
+servants." The stories which make up this volume are closer to
+experience and come, for the most part, nearer to the every-day
+happenings of life.
+
+A generation ago, when the noble activities of science and its
+inspiring discoveries were taking possession of the minds of men and
+revealing possibilities of power of which they had not dreamed, the
+prediction was freely made that poetry and fiction had had their day,
+and that henceforth men would be educated upon facts and get their
+inspirations from what are called real things. So engrossing and so
+marvellous were the results of investigation, the achievements of
+experiment, that it seemed to many as if the older literature of
+imagination and fancy had served its purpose as completely as alchemy,
+astrology, or chain armour.
+
+The prophecies of those fruitful years of research did not tell half
+the story of the wonderful things that were to be; the uses of
+electricity which are within easy reach for the most homely and
+practical purposes are as mysterious and magical as the dreams of the
+magicians. We are served by invisible ministers who are more powerful
+than the genii and more nimble than Puck. There has been a girdle
+around the world for many years; but there is good reason to believe
+that the time will come when news will go round the globe on waves of
+air. If we were not accustomed to ordering breakfast miles away from
+the grocer and the poulterer, we should be overcome with amazement
+every time we took up the telephone transmitter. Absolutely pure tones
+are now being made by the use of dynamos and will soon be sent into
+homes lying miles distant from the power house, so to speak, so that
+very sweet music is being played by arc lights.
+
+The anticipations of scientific men, so far as the uses of force are
+concerned, have been surpassed by the wonderful discoveries and
+applications of the past few years; but poetry and romance are not
+dead; on the contrary, they are more alive in the sense of awakening a
+wider interest than ever before in the history of writing. During the
+years which have been more fruitful in works of mechanical genius or
+dynamic energy, novels have been more widely distributed and more
+eagerly read than at any previous period. The poetry of the time, in
+the degree in which it has been fresh and vital, has been treated by
+newspapers as matter of universal interest.
+
+Men are born story-readers; if their interest subsides for the moment,
+or is absorbed by other forms of expression, it reasserts itself in
+due time and demands the old enchantment that has woven its spell over
+every generation since men and women reached an early stage of
+development. Barbarians and even savages share with the most highly
+civilised peoples this passion for fiction.
+
+Men cannot live on the bare, literal fact any more than they can live
+on bread alone; there is something in every man to feed besides his
+body. He has been told many times by men of great disinterestedness
+and ability that he must believe only that which he clearly knows and
+understands, and that he must concern himself with those matters only
+which he can thoroughly comprehend. He must live, in other words, by
+the rule of common sense; meaning by that oft-used phrase, clear sight
+and practical dealing with actual things and conditions. It would
+greatly simplify life if this course could be followed, but it would
+simplify it by rejecting those things which the finest spirits among
+men and women have loved most and believed in with joyful and fruitful
+devotion. If we could all become literal, matter of fact and entirely
+practical, we should take the best possible care of our bodies and let
+our souls starve. This, however, the soul absolutely refuses to do;
+when it is ignored it rebels and shivers the apparently solid order of
+common-sense living into fragments. It must have air to breathe, room
+to move in, a language to speak, work to do, and an open window
+through which it can look on the landscape and the sky. It is as idle
+to tell a man to live entirely in and by facts that can be known by
+the senses as to tell him to work in a field and not see the
+landscape of which the field is a part.
+
+The love of the story is one of the expressions of the passion of the
+soul for a glimpse of an order of life amid the chaos of happenings;
+for a setting of life which symbolises the dignity of the actors in
+the play; for room in which to let men work out their instincts and
+risk their hearts in the great adventures of affection or action or
+exploration. Men and women find in stories the opportunities and
+experiences which circumstances have denied them; they insist on the
+dramatisation of life because they know that certain results
+inevitably follow certain actions, and certain deeply interesting
+conflicts and tragedies are bound up with certain temperaments and
+types of character.
+
+The fact that many stories are unwholesome, untrue, vulgar or immoral
+impeaches the value and dignity of fiction as little as the abuse of
+power impeaches the necessity and nobility of government, or the
+excess of the glutton the healthfulness and necessity of food. The
+imagination must not only be counted as an entirely normal faculty,
+but the higher intelligence of the future will recognise its primacy
+among the faculties with which men are endowed. Fiction is not only
+here to stay, as the phrase runs, but it is one of the great and
+enduring forms of literature.
+
+The question is not, therefore, whether or not children shall read
+stories; that question was answered when they were sent into the world
+in the human form and with the human constitution: the only open
+question is "what stories shall they read?" That many children read
+too many stories is beyond question; their excessive devotion to
+fiction wastes time and seriously impairs vigour of mind. In these
+respects they follow the current which carries a multitude of their
+elders to mental inefficiency and waste of power. That they read too
+many weak, untruthful, characterless stories is also beyond question;
+and in this respect also they are like their elders. They need food,
+but in no intelligent household do they select and provide it; they
+are given what they like if it is wholesome; if not, they are given
+something different and better. No sane mother allows her child to
+live on the food it likes if that food is unwholesome; but this is
+precisely what many mothers and fathers do in the matter of feeding
+the imagination. The body is scrupulously cared for and the mind is
+left to care for itself!
+
+Children ought to have stories at hand precisely as they ought to have
+food, toys, games, playgrounds, because stories meet one of the normal
+needs of their natures. But these stories, like the food given to the
+body, ought to be intelligently selected, not only for their quality
+but for their adaptation. There are many good books which ought not to
+be in the hands of children because children have not had the
+experience which interprets them; they will either fail to understand,
+or if they understand, they will suffer a sudden forcing of growth in
+the knowledge of life which is always unwholesome.
+
+Only stories which are sound in the views of life they present ought
+to be within the reach of children; these stories ought to be well
+constructed and well written; they ought to be largely objective
+stories; they ought not to be introspective, morbid or abnormal in any
+way. Goody-good and professionally "pious" stories, sentimental or
+unreal stories, ought to be rigorously excluded. A great deal of
+fiction specially written for children ought to be left severely
+alone; it is cheap, shallow and stamped with unreality from cover to
+cover. It is as unwise to feed the minds of children exclusively on
+books specially prepared for their particular age as to shape the
+talk at breakfast or dinner specially for their stage of development;
+few opportunities for education are more valuable for a child than
+hearing the talk of its elders about the topics of the time. There are
+many wholesome and entertaining stories in the vast mass of fiction
+addressed to younger readers; but this literature of a period ought
+never to exclude the literature of all periods.
+
+The stories collected in this volume have been selected from many
+sources, because in the judgment of the editor, they are sound pieces
+of writing, wholesome in tone, varied in interest and style, and
+interesting. It is his hope that they will not only furnish good
+reading, but that they will suggest the kind of reading in this field
+that should be within the reach of children.
+
+HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS STORIES
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I. A Child's Dream of a Star
+   By CHARLES DICKENS
+
+II. The King of the Golden River or, The Black Brothers
+    By JOHN RUSKIN
+
+III. The Snow Image: A Childish Miracle
+     By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+IV. Undine
+    By FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQUÉ
+
+V. The Story of Ruth
+   FROM THE BOOK OF RUTH
+
+VI. The Great Stone Face
+    By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+VII. The Diverting History of John Gilpin
+     By WILLIAM COWPER
+
+VIII. The Man Without a Country
+      By EDWARD EVERETT HALE
+
+IX. The Nürnberg Stove
+    By LOUISE DE LA RAMÉE ("Ouida")
+
+X. Rab and His Friends
+   By JOHN BROWN, M.D.
+
+XI. Peter Rugg, the Missing Man
+    By WILLIAM AUSTIN
+
+
+
+
+STORIES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR
+
+
+There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought
+of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his
+constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They
+wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and
+blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water;
+they wondered at the goodness and the power of God who made the lovely
+world.
+
+They used to say to one another, sometimes, supposing all the children
+upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky
+be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds
+are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that
+gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the
+smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night,
+must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be
+grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more.
+
+There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky
+before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was
+larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and
+every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window.
+Whoever saw it first cried out, "I see the star!" And often they cried
+out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So
+they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down in their
+beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good-night; and
+when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, "God bless
+the star!"
+
+But while she was still very young, oh very, very young, the sister
+drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the
+window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and
+when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face
+on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile would come upon the
+face, and a little weak voice used to say, "God bless my brother and
+the star!"
+
+And so the time came all too soon! when the child looked out alone,
+and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little
+grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star made long
+rays down toward him, as he saw it through his tears.
+
+Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining
+way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary
+bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was,
+he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And
+the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more
+such angels waited to receive them.
+
+All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the
+people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the
+long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and
+kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light,
+and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for
+joy.
+
+But, there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them
+one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was
+glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all
+the host.
+
+His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to
+the leader among those who had brought the people thither:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said "No."
+
+She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms,
+and cried, "O, sister, I am here! Take me!" and then she turned her
+beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into
+the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his
+tears.
+
+From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the
+home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that
+he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of
+his sister's angel gone before.
+
+There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was
+so little that he never yet had spoken word he stretched his tiny form
+out on his bed, and died.
+
+Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of
+angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their
+beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces.
+
+Said his sister's angel to the leader:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said "Not that one, but another."
+
+As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O,
+sister, I am here! Take me!" And she turned and smiled upon him, and
+the star was shining.
+
+He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books when an old
+servant came to him and said:
+
+"Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!"
+
+Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his
+sister's angel to the leader:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said, "Thy mother!"
+
+A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the
+mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms
+and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!" And
+they answered him, "Not yet," and the star was shining.
+
+He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting
+in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face
+bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again.
+
+Said his sister's angel to the leader: "Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter."
+
+And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to
+him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said, "My
+daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my
+mother's neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I
+can bear the parting from her, God be praised!"
+
+And the star was shining.
+
+Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was
+wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent.
+And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he
+cried, as he had cried so long ago:
+
+"I see the star!"
+
+They whispered one to another, "He is dying."
+
+And he said, "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I
+move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank Thee
+that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones who await me!"
+
+And the star was shining, and it shines upon his grave.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; OR, THE BLACK BROTHERS
+
+
+I.--HOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS WAS INTERFERED
+WITH BY SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE
+
+In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in old time, a
+valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was
+surrounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains, rising into
+peaks, which were always covered with snow, and from which a number of
+torrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward,
+over the face of a crag so high, that, when the sun had set to
+everything else, and all below was darkness, his beams still shone
+full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower of gold. It
+was, therefore, called by the people of the neighbourhood, the Golden
+River. It was strange that none of these streams fell into the valley
+itself. They all descended on the other side of the mountains, and
+wound away through broad plains and by populous cities. But the clouds
+were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in
+the circular hollow, that in time of drought and heat, when all the
+country round was burnt up, there was still rain in the little valley;
+and its crops were so heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so
+red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine so rich, and its honey so
+sweet that it was a marvel to everyone who beheld it, and was
+commonly called the Treasure Valley.
+
+The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers called
+Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,
+were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyes,
+which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into _them_, and
+always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the
+Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed
+everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds,
+because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they
+should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs
+in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all
+summer in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any
+wages, till they would not work any more, and then quarrelled with
+them, and turned them out of doors without paying them. It would have
+been very odd, if with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they
+hadn't got very rich; and very rich they _did_ get. They generally
+contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very dear, and then
+sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying about on
+their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so much as a
+penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled
+perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and
+grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any
+dealings the nickname of the "Black Brothers."
+
+The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both
+appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined
+or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and
+kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree
+particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did not agree
+with _him_. He was usually appointed to the honourable office of
+turnspit, when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for,
+to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon
+themselves than upon other people. At other times he used to clean the
+shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was
+left on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry
+blows, by way of education.
+
+Things went on in this manner for a long time. At last came a very wet
+summer, and everything went wrong in the country around. The hay had
+hardly been got in, when the hay-stacks were floated bodily down to
+the sea by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the hail;
+the corn was all killed by a black blight; only in the Treasure
+Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain
+nowhere else, so it had sun when there was sun nowhere else. Everybody
+came to buy corn at the farm, and went away pouring maledictions on
+the Black Brothers. They asked what they liked, and got it, except
+from the poor, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at
+their very door, without the slightest regard or notice.
+
+It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when one day the
+two elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning to little
+Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let nobody in,
+and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it
+was raining very hard, and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or
+comfortable-looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got nice and
+brown. "What a pity," thought Gluck, "my brothers never ask anybody to
+dinner. I'm sure, when they've got such a nice piece of mutton as
+this, and nobody else has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it
+would do their hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them."
+
+Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door, yet
+heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been tied up--more like a
+puff than a knock.
+
+"It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else would venture to knock
+double knocks at our door."
+
+No; it wasn't the wind: there it came again very hard, and what was
+particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not
+to be in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went to the
+window, opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.
+
+It was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had ever
+seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-coloured;
+his cheeks were very round, and very red, and might have warranted a
+supposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last
+eight and forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long silky
+eyelashes, his moustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each
+side of his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt
+colour, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four-feet-six
+in height, and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,
+decorated with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet was
+prolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of
+what is now termed a "swallow-tail," but was much obscured by the
+swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must
+have been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling
+round the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders
+to about four times his own length.
+
+Gluck was so perfectly paralysed by the singular appearance of his
+visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the old
+gentleman, having performed another, and a more energetic concerto on
+the knocker, turned round to look after his fly-away cloak. In so
+doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the
+window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.
+
+"Hollo!" said the little gentleman, "that's not the way to answer the
+door. I'm wet, let me in."
+
+To do the little gentleman justice, he _was_ wet. His feather hung
+down between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an
+umbrella; and from the ends of his moustaches the water was running
+into his waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but I really can't."
+
+"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.
+
+"I can't let you in, sir--I can't indeed; my brothers would beat me to
+death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"
+
+"Want?" said the old gentleman, petulantly, "I want fire, and shelter;
+and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on
+the walls, with nobody to feel it Let me in, I say; I only want to
+warm myself."
+
+Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that
+he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned,
+and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing long
+bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the
+savory smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it
+should be burning away for nothing. "He does look _very_ wet," said
+little Gluck; "I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round
+he went to the door, and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked
+in, there came a gust of wind through the house, that made the old
+chimneys totter.
+
+"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind your
+brothers. I'll talk to them."
+
+"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let you
+stay till they come; they'd be the death of me."
+
+"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm very sorry to hear that. How
+long may I stay?"
+
+"Only till the mutton's done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's very
+brown."
+
+Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himself down
+on the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for
+it was a great deal too high for the roof.
+
+"You'll soon dry there, sir," said Gluck, and sat down again to turn
+the mutton. But the old gentleman did _not_ dry there, but went on
+drip, drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, and
+sputtered, and began to look very black, and uncomfortable: never was
+such a cloak; every fold in it ran like a gutter.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck at length, after watching the water
+spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for a
+quarter of an hour; "mayn't I take your cloak?"
+
+"No, thank you," said the old gentleman.
+
+"Your cap, sir?"
+
+"I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman rather gruffly.
+
+"But--sir--I'm very sorry," said Gluck, hesitatingly; "but--really,
+sir--you're--putting the fire out."
+
+"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then," replied his visitor dryly.
+
+Gluck was very much puzzled by the behaviour of his guest, it was such
+a strange mixture of coolness and humility. He turned away at the
+string meditatively for another five minutes.
+
+"That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentleman at length.
+"Can't you give me a little bit?"
+
+"Impossible, sir," said Gluck.
+
+"I'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman. "I've had nothing to
+eat yesterday, nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a bit from the
+knuckle!"
+
+He spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite melted Gluck's
+heart. "They promised me one slice to-day, sir," said he; "I can give
+you that, but not a bit more."
+
+"That's a good boy," said the old gentleman again.
+
+Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. "I don't care if I do
+get beaten for it," thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice out
+of the mutton there came a tremendous rap at the door. The old
+gentleman jumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly become
+inconveniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again,
+with desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the door.
+
+"What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?" said Schwartz, as he
+walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face. "Ay! what for,
+indeed, you little vagabond?" said Hans, administering an educational
+box on the ear, as he followed his brother into the kitchen.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz when he opened the door.
+
+"Amen," said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off, and was
+standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible
+velocity.
+
+"Who's that?" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, and turning to
+Gluck with a fierce frown.
+
+"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck in great terror.
+
+"How did he get in?" roared Schwartz.
+
+"My dear brother," said Gluck, deprecatingly, "he was so _very_ wet!"
+
+The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head; but at the instant,
+the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed with
+a shock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What was
+very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out
+of Schwartz's hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell
+into the corner at the further end of the room.
+
+"Who are you, sir?" demanded Schwartz, turning upon him.
+
+"What's your business?" snarled Hans.
+
+"I'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman began very modestly,
+"and I saw your fire through the window, and begged shelter for a
+quarter of an hour."
+
+"Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said Schwartz. "We've
+quite enough water in our kitchen, without making it a drying-house."
+
+"It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my gray
+hairs." They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.
+
+"Ay!" said Hans, "there are enough of them to keep you warm. Walk!"
+
+"I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of bread
+before I go?"
+
+"Bread indeed!" said Schwartz; "do you suppose we've nothing to do
+with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?"
+
+"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans, sneeringly. "Out with
+you!"
+
+"A little bit," said the old gentleman.
+
+"Be off!" said Schwartz.
+
+"Pray, gentlemen--"
+
+"Off, and be hanged!" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he
+had no sooner touched the old gentleman's collar, than away he went
+after the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the
+corner on the top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the
+old gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him,
+when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head
+against the wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay,
+all three.
+
+Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the
+opposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all
+wound neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one
+side (for it could not stand upright without going through the
+ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and
+replied with perfect coolness: "Gentlemen, I wish you a very good
+morning. At twelve o'clock to-night I'll call again; after such a
+refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, you will not be
+surprised if that visit is the last I ever pay you."
+
+"If ever I catch you here again," muttered Schwartz, coming half
+frightened out of his corner--but, before he could finish his
+sentence, the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a
+great bang: and there drove past the window, at the same instant, a
+wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley
+in all manner of shapes; turning over and over in the air, and melting
+away at last in a gush of rain.
+
+"A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!" said Schwartz. "Dish the
+mutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again--bless me, why,
+the mutton's been cut!"
+
+"You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said Gluck.
+
+"Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all
+the gravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again.
+Leave the room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar
+till I call you."
+
+Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much mutton
+as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and proceeded to get
+very drunk after dinner.
+
+Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without
+intermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all
+the shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They
+usually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were
+both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a
+violence that shook the house from top to bottom.
+
+"What's that?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.
+
+"Only I," said the little gentleman.
+
+The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the
+darkness. The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which
+found its way through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the
+midst of it an enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and
+down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined
+the little old gentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it
+now, for the roof was off.
+
+"Sorry to incommode you," said their visitor, ironically. "I'm afraid
+your beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your brother's
+room: I've left the ceiling on, there."
+
+They required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wet
+through, and in an agony of terror.
+
+"You'll find my card on the kitchen table," the old gentleman called
+after them. "Remember the _last_ visit."
+
+"Pray Heaven it may!" said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globe
+disappeared.
+
+Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's little
+window in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and
+desolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle,
+and left in their stead a waste of red sand and gray mud. The two
+brothers crept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water
+had gutted the whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movable
+thing, had been swept away and there was left only a small white card
+on the kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters,
+were engraved the words: _South-West Wind, Esquire_.
+
+
+II.--OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER THE VISIT OF
+SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE; AND HOW LITTLE GLUCK HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH
+THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.
+
+Southwest Wind, Esquire, was as good as his word. After the momentous
+visit above related, he entered the Treasure Valley no more; and, what
+was worse, he had so much influence with his relations, the West Winds
+in general, and used it so effectually, that they all adopted a
+similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley from one year's
+end to another. Though everything remained green and flourishing in
+the plains below, the inheritance of the Three Brothers was a desert.
+What had once been the richest soil in the kingdom, became a shifting
+heap of red sand; and the brothers, unable longer to contend with the
+adverse skies, abandoned their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek
+some means of gaining a livelihood among the cities and people of the
+plains. All their money was gone, and they had nothing left but some
+curious, old-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of
+their ill-gotten wealth.
+
+"Suppose we turn goldsmiths?" said Schwartz to Hans, as they entered
+the large city. "It is a good knave's trade; we can put a great deal
+of copper into the gold, without any one's finding it out."
+
+The thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired a furnace,
+and turned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances affected their
+trade: the first, that people did not approve of the coppered gold;
+the second, that the two elder brothers, whenever they had sold
+anything, used to leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and
+drink out the money in the ale-house next door. So they melted all
+their gold, without making money enough to buy more, and were at last
+reduced to one large drinking-mug, which an uncle of his had given to
+little Gluck, and which he was very fond of, and would not have parted
+with for the world; though he never drank anything out of it but milk
+and water. The mug was a very odd mug to look at. The handle was
+formed of two wreaths of flowing golden hair, so finely spun that it
+looked more like silk than metal, and these wreaths descended into,
+and mixed with, a beard and whiskers of the same exquisite
+workmanship, which surrounded and decorated a very fierce little face,
+of the reddest gold imaginable, right in the front of the mug, with a
+pair of eyes in it which seemed to command its whole circumference. It
+was impossible to drink out of the mug without being subjected to an
+intense gaze out of the side of these eyes; and Schwartz positively
+averred, that once, after emptying it, full of Rhenish, seventeen
+times, he had seen them wink! When it came to the mug's turn to be
+made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck's heart: but the
+brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and
+staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual, to pour the
+gold into bars, when it was all ready.
+
+When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old friend in
+the melting-pot. The flowing hair was all gone; nothing remained but
+the red nose, and the sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than
+ever. "And no wonder," thought Gluck, "after being treated in that
+way." He sauntered disconsolately to the window, and sat himself down
+to catch the fresh evening air, and escape the hot breath of the
+furnace. Now this window commanded a direct view of the range of
+mountains, which, as I told before, overhung the Treasure Valley, and
+more especially of the peak from which fell the Golden River. It was
+just at the close of the day, and when Gluck sat down at the window he
+saw the rocks of the mountain tops, all crimson and purple with the
+sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and
+quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a
+waving column of pure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the
+double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing
+and fading alternately in the wreaths of spray.
+
+"Ah!" said Gluck aloud, after he had looked at it for a while, "if
+that river were really all gold, what a nice thing it would be."
+
+"No it wouldn't, Gluck," said a clear, metallic voice close at his
+ear.
+
+"Bless me! what's that?" exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. There was nobody
+there. He looked round the room, and under the table, and a great many
+times behind him, but there was certainly nobody there, and he sat
+down again at the window. This time he didn't speak, but he couldn't
+help thinking again that it would be very convenient if the river were
+really all gold.
+
+"Not at all, my boy," said the same voice, louder than before.
+
+"Bless me!" said Gluck again; "what _is_ that?" He looked again into
+all the corners and cupboards, and then began turning round, and
+round, as fast as he could in the middle of the room, thinking there
+was somebody behind him, when the same voice struck again on his ear.
+It was singing now very merrily, "Lala-lira-la;" no words, only a soft
+running, effervescent melody, something like that of a kettle on the
+boil. Gluck looked out of the window. No, it was certainly in the
+house. Upstairs, and downstairs. No, it was certainly in that very
+room, coming in quicker time, and clearer notes, every moment.
+"Lala-lira-la." All at once it struck Gluck that it sounded louder
+near the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked in: yes, he saw
+right; it seemed to be coming, not only out of the furnace, but out of
+the pot. He uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright, for the pot
+was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest corner of the room,
+with his hands up, and his mouth open, for a minute or two, when the
+singing stopped, and the voice became clear and pronunciative.
+
+"Hollo!" said the voice.
+
+Gluck made no answer.
+
+"Hollo! Gluck, my boy," said the pot again.
+
+Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the crucible,
+drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. The gold was all melted,
+and its surface as smooth and polished as a river; but instead of
+reflecting little Gluck's head, as he looked in, he saw meeting his
+glance from beneath the gold the red nose and sharp eyes of his old
+friend of the mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever he
+had seen them in his life.
+
+"Come, Gluck, my boy," said the voice out of the pot again, "I'm all
+right; pour me out."
+
+But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.
+
+"Pour me out, I say," said the voice rather gruffly.
+
+Still Gluck couldn't move.
+
+"_Will_ you pour me out?" said the voice passionately. "I'm too hot."
+
+By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took hold
+of the crucible, and sloped it so as to pour out the gold. But instead
+of a liquid stream, there came out, first, a pair of pretty little
+yellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of arms stuck akimbo,
+and, finally, the well-known head of his friend the mug; all which
+articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically on the
+floor, in the shape of a little golden dwarf, about a foot and a half
+high.
+
+"That's right!" said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs, and
+then his arms, and then shaking his head up and down, and as far round
+as it would go, for five minutes without stopping; apparently with the
+view of ascertaining if he were quite correctly put together, while
+Gluck stood contemplating him in speechless amazement. He was dressed
+in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so fine in its texture, that the
+prismatic colours gleamed over it, as if on a surface of
+mother-of-pearl; and, over this brilliant doublet, his hair and beard
+fell full halfway to the ground, in waving curls, so exquisitely
+delicate that Gluck could hardly tell where they ended; they seemed to
+melt into air. The features of the face, however, were by no means
+finished with the same delicacy; they were rather coarse, slightly
+inclining to coppery in complexion, and indicative, in expression, of
+a very pertinacious and intractable disposition in their small
+proprietor. When the dwarf had finished his self-examination, he
+turned his small eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him deliberately
+for a minute or two. "No, it wouldn't, Gluck, my boy," said the little
+man.
+
+This was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected mode of commencing
+conversation. It might indeed be supposed to refer to the course of
+Gluck's thoughts, which had first produced the dwarf's observations
+out of the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had no inclination
+to dispute the dictum.
+
+"Wouldn't it, sir?" said Gluck, very mildly and submissively indeed.
+
+"No," said the dwarf, conclusively. "No, it wouldn't." And with that,
+the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his brows, and took two turns, of
+three feet long, up and down the room, lifting his legs up very high,
+and setting them down very hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to
+collect his thoughts a little, and, seeing no great reason to view his
+diminutive visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosity overcome his
+amazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar delicacy.
+
+"Pray, sir," said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, "were you my mug?"
+
+On which the little man turned sharp round, walked straight up to
+Gluck, and drew himself up to his full height. "I," said the little
+man, "am the King of the Golden River." Whereupon he turned about
+again, and took two more turns, some six feet long, in order to allow
+time for the consternation which this announcement produced in his
+auditor to evaporate. After which, he again walked up to Gluck and
+stood still, as if expecting some comment on his communication.
+
+Gluck determined to say something at all events. "I hope your Majesty
+is very well," said Gluck.
+
+"Listen!" said the little man, deigning no reply to this polite
+inquiry. "I am the King of what you mortals call the Golden River. The
+shape you saw me in was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from
+whose enchantments you have this instant freed me. What I have seen of
+you, and your conduct to your wicked brothers, renders me willing to
+serve you; therefore, attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall climb
+to the top of that mountain from which you see the Golden River
+issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source three drops of
+holy water, for him, and for him only, the river shall turn to gold.
+But no one failing in his first, can succeed in a second attempt; and
+if anyone shall cast unholy water into the river, it will overwhelm
+him, and he will become a black stone." So saying, the King of the
+Golden River turned away and deliberately walked into the centre of
+the hottest flame of the furnace. His figure became red, white,
+transparent, dazzling--a blaze of intense light--rose, trembled, and
+disappeared. The King of the Golden River had evaporated.
+
+"Oh!" cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney after him; "oh
+dear, dear, dear me! My mug! my mug! my mug!"
+
+
+III.--HOW MR. HANS SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN
+
+The King of the Golden River had hardly made the extraordinary exit
+related in the last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz came roaring
+into the house, very savagely drunk. The discovery of the total loss
+of their last piece of plate had the effect of sobering them just
+enough to enable them to stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily
+for a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which period they
+dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested to know what he had to
+say for himself. Gluck told them his story, of which, of course, they
+did not believe a word. They beat him again, till their arms were
+tired, and staggered to bed. In the morning, however, the steadiness
+with which he adhered to his story obtained him some degree of
+credence; the immediate consequence of which was, that the two
+brothers, after wrangling a long time on the knotty question, which
+of them should try his fortune first, drew their swords and began
+fighting. The noise of the fray alarmed the neighbours who, finding
+they could not pacify the combatants, sent for the constable.
+
+Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid himself; but
+Schwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for breaking the
+peace, and, having drunk out his last penny the evening before, was
+thrown into prison till he should pay.
+
+When Hans heard this, he was much delighted, and determined to set out
+immediately for the Golden River. How to get the holy water was the
+question. He went to the priest, but the priest could not give any
+holy water to so abandoned a character. So Hans went to vespers in the
+evening for the first time in his life, and, under pretence of
+crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned home in triumph.
+
+Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy water into a
+strong flask, and two bottles of wine and some meat in a basket, slung
+them over his back, took his alpine staff in his hand, and set off for
+the mountains.
+
+On his way out of the town he had to pass the prison, and as he looked
+in at the windows, whom should he see but Schwartz himself peeping out
+of the bars, and looking very disconsolate.
+
+"Good morning, brother," said Hans; "have you any message for the King
+of the Golden River?"
+
+Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars with all his
+strength; but Hans only laughed at him, and advising him to make
+himself comfortable till he came back again, shouldered his basket,
+shook the bottle of holy water in Schwartz's face till it frothed
+again, and marched off in the highest spirits in the world.
+
+It was, indeed, a morning that might have made anyone happy, even
+with no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay
+stretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy
+mountains--their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly
+distinguishable from the floating vapour, but gradually ascending till
+they caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy colour
+along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through
+their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red splintered
+masses of castellated rock, jagged and shivered into myriads of
+fantastic forms, with here and there a streak of sunlit snow, traced
+down their chasms like a line of forked lightning; and, far beyond,
+and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, but purer and
+changeless, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the eternal
+snow.
+
+The Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower and snowless
+elevations, was now nearly in shadow; all but the uppermost jets of
+spray, which rose like slow smoke above the undulating line of the
+cataract, and floated away in feeble wreaths upon the morning wind.
+
+On this object, and on this alone, Hans's eyes and thoughts were
+fixed; forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set off at an
+imprudent rate of walking, which greatly exhausted him before he had
+scaled the first range of the green and low hills. He was, moreover,
+surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a large glacier, of whose
+existence, notwithstanding his previous knowledge of the mountains, he
+had been absolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source of the
+Golden River. He entered on it with the boldness of a practised
+mountaineer; yet he thought he had never traversed so strange or so
+dangerous a glacier in his life. The ice was excessively slippery, and
+out of all its chasms came wild sounds of gushing water; not
+monotonous or low; but changeful and loud, rising occasionally into
+drifting passages of wild melody, then breaking off into short
+melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling those of human voices
+in distress or pain. The ice was broken into thousands of confused
+shapes, but none, Hans thought like the ordinary forms of splintered
+ice. There seemed a curious _expression_ about all their outlines--a
+perpetual resemblance to living features, distorted and scornful.
+Myriads of deceitful shadows, and lurid lights, played and floated
+about and through the pale-blue pinnacles, dazzling and confusing the
+sight of the traveller; while his ears grew dull and his head giddy
+with the constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. These painful
+circumstances increased upon him as he advanced; the ice crashed and
+yawned into fresh chasms at his feet, tottering spires nodded around
+him, and fell thundering across his path; and, though he had
+repeatedly faced these dangers on the most terrific glaciers, and in
+the wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling of panic
+terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flung himself, exhausted and
+shuddering, on the firm turf of the mountain.
+
+He had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, which became a
+perilous incumbrance on the glacier, and had now no means of
+refreshing himself but by breaking off and eating some of the pieces
+of ice. This, however, relieved his thirst; an hour's repose recruited
+his hardy frame, and, with the indomitable spirit of avarice, he
+resumed his laborious journey.
+
+His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red rocks, without a blade
+of grass to ease the foot, or a projecting angle to afford an inch of
+shade from the south sun. It was past noon, and the rays beat
+intensely upon the steep path, while the whole atmosphere was
+motionless, and penetrated with heat. Intense thirst was soon added
+to the bodily fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glance after
+glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at his belt. "Three
+drops are enough," at last thought he; "I may, at least, cool my lips
+with it."
+
+He opened the flask, and was raising it to his lips, when his eye fell
+on an object lying on the rock beside him; he thought it moved. It was
+a small dog, apparently in the last agony of death from thirst. Its
+tongue was out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, and a
+swarm of black ants were crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye
+moved to the bottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised it, drank,
+spurned the animal with his foot, and passed on. And he did not know
+how it was, but he thought that a strange shadow had suddenly come
+across the blue sky.
+
+The path became steeper and more rugged every moment; and the high
+hill air, instead of refreshing him, seemed to throw his blood into a
+fever. The noise of the hill cataracts sounded like mockery in his
+ears; they were all distant, and his thirst increased every moment.
+Another hour passed, and he again looked down to the flask at his
+side; it was half empty; but there was much more than three drops in
+it. He stopped to open it, and again, as he did so, something moved in
+the path above him. It was a fair child, stretched nearly lifeless on
+the rock, its breast heaving with thirst, its eyes closed, and its
+lips parched and burning. Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed
+on. And a dark-gray cloud came over the sun, and long, snake-like
+shadows crept up along the mountain sides. Hans struggled on. The sun
+was sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no coolness; the leaden
+weight of the dead air pressed upon his brow and heart, but the goal
+was near. He saw the cataract of the Golden River springing from the
+hillside, scarcely five hundred feet above him. He paused for a
+moment to breathe, and sprang on to complete his task.
+
+At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned, and saw a
+gray-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes were sunk, his
+features deadly pale, and gathered into an expression of despair.
+"Water!" he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried feebly, "Water! I am
+dying."
+
+"I have none," replied Hans; "thou hast had thy share of life." He
+strode over the prostrate body, and darted on. And a flash of blue
+lightning rose out of the east, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice
+over the whole heaven, and left it dark with one heavy, impenetrable
+shade. The sun was setting; it plunged toward the horizon like a
+red-hot ball.
+
+The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans's ear. He stood at the brink
+of the chasm through which it ran. Its waves were filled with the red
+glory of the sunset: they shook their crests like tongues of fire, and
+flashes of bloody light gleamed along their foam. Their sound came
+mightier and mightier on his senses; his brain grew giddy with the
+prolonged thunder. Shuddering he drew the flask from his girdle, and
+hurled it into the centre of the torrent. As he did so, an icy chill
+shot through his limbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The waters
+closed over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the
+night, as it gushed over _The Black Stone_.
+
+
+IV.--HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER,
+AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN
+
+Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house for Hans's
+return. Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened, and
+went and told Schwartz in the prison all that had happened. Then
+Schwartz was very much pleased, and said that Hans must certainly
+have been turned into a black stone, and he should have all the gold
+to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all night. When he got
+up in the morning there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so
+Gluck went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so
+hard, and so neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money
+enough together to pay his brother's fine, and he went and gave it all
+to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then Schwartz was quite
+pleased, and said he should have some of the gold of the river. But
+Gluck only begged he would go and see what had become of Hans.
+
+Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen the holy water, he
+thought to himself that such a proceeding might not be considered
+altogether correct by the King of the Golden River, and determined to
+manage matters better. So he took some more of Gluck's money, and went
+to a bad priest who gave him some holy water very readily for it. Then
+Schwartz was sure it was all quite right. So Schwartz got up early in
+the morning before the sun rose, and took some bread and wine in a
+basket, and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for the
+mountains. Like his brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the
+glacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving
+his basket behind him. The day was cloudless, but not bright: there
+was a heavy purple haze hanging over the sky, and the hills looked
+lowering and gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock path, the
+thirst came upon him, as it had upon his brother, until he lifted his
+flask to his lips to drink. Then he saw the fair child lying near him
+on the rocks, and it cried to him, and moaned for water.
+
+"Water, indeed," said Schwartz; "I haven't half enough for myself,"
+and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeams grew more dim,
+and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising out of the west; and, when
+he had climbed for another hour, the thirst overcame him again, and he
+would have drunk. Then he saw the old man lying before him on the
+path, and heard him cry out for water. "Water, indeed," said Schwartz;
+"I haven't half enough for myself," and on he went.
+
+Then again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and he
+looked up, and, behold, a mist, of the colour of blood, had come over
+the sun; and the bank of black cloud had risen very high, and its
+edges were tossing and tumbling like the waves of an angry sea. And
+they cast long shadows, which flickered over Schwartz's path.
+
+Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his thirst returned;
+and as he lifted his flask to his lips, he thought he saw his brother
+Hans lying exhausted on the path before him; and, as he gazed, the
+figure stretched its arms to him, and cried for water. "Ha, ha,"
+laughed Schwartz, "are you there? Remember the prison bars, my boy.
+Water indeed! Do you suppose I carried it all the way up here for
+_you_?" And he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed, he thought
+he saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips. And, when he
+had gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure was not
+there.
+
+And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not why; but the
+thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, and he rushed on. And the
+bank of black cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of
+spiry lightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heave and float
+between their flashes over the whole heavens. And the sky where the
+sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood; and a strong
+wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into fragments,
+and scattering them far into the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by
+the brink of the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder
+clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the waters
+below, and the thunder above, met, as he cast the flask into the
+stream. And, as he did so, the lightning glared into his eyes, and the
+earth gave way beneath him, and the waters closed over his cry. And
+the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over
+the _Two Black Stones_.
+
+
+V.--HOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN; WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST
+
+When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back he was very sorry,
+and did not know what to do. He had no money, and was obliged to go
+and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard, and
+gave him very little money. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew
+tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden
+River. "The little king looked very kind," thought he. "I don't think
+he will turn me into a black stone." So he went to the priest, and the
+priest gave him some holy water as soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck
+took some bread in his basket, and the bottle of water, and set off
+very early for the mountains.
+
+If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers,
+it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so
+practised on the mountains. He had several very bad falls, lost his
+basket and bread, and was very much frightened at the strange noises
+under the ice. He lay a long time to rest on the grass, after he had
+got over, and began to climb the hill in just the hottest part of the
+day. When he had climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty, and
+was going to drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming
+down the path above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on a staff.
+"My son," said the old man, "I am faint with thirst, give me some of
+that water." Then Gluck looked at him, and, when he saw that he was
+pale and weary, he gave him the water. "Only pray don't drink it all,"
+said Gluck. But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the
+bottle two-thirds empty. Then he bade him good speed, and Gluck went
+on again merrily. And the path became easier to his feet, and two or
+three blades of grass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began
+singing on the bank beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard
+such merry singing.
+
+Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him so
+that he thought he should be forced to drink. But, as he raised the
+flask, he saw a little child lying panting by the roadside, and it
+cried out piteously for water. Then Gluck struggled with himself, and
+determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle
+to the child's lips, and it drank it all but a few drops. Then it
+smiled on him, and got up, and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked
+after it till it became as small as a little star, and then turned and
+began climbing again. And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers
+growing on the rocks, bright green moss, with pale pink starry
+flowers, and soft belled gentians, more blue than the sky at its
+deepest, and pure white transparent lilies. And crimson and purple
+butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure
+light, that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.
+
+Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became
+intolerable again; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw that
+there were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not venture
+to drink. And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw
+a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath--just as Hans had
+seen it on the day of his ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at it
+and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him; and he
+thought of the dwarf's words, "that no one could succeed, except in
+his first attempt"; and he tried to pass the dog, but it whined
+piteously, and Gluck stopped again. "Poor beastie!" said Gluck: "it'll
+be dead when I come down again, if I don't help it." Then he looked
+closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mournfully that
+he could not stand it. "Confound the King and his gold too," said
+Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the water into the
+dog's mouth.
+
+The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail disappeared,
+its ears became long, longer, silky, golden; its nose became very red,
+its eyes became very twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, and
+before Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of the Golden River.
+
+"Thank you," said the monarch; "but don't be frightened, it's all
+right"; for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternation at this
+unlooked-for reply to his last observation. "Why didn't you come
+before," continued the dwarf, "instead of sending me those rascally
+brothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of turning into stones?
+Very hard stones they make too."
+
+"Oh dear me!" said Gluck; "have you really been so cruel?"
+
+"Cruel!" said the dwarf, "they poured unholy water into my stream; do
+you suppose I'm going to allow that?"
+
+"Why," said Gluck, "I am sure, sir--your Majesty, I mean--they got the
+water out of the church font."
+
+"Very probably," replied the dwarf; "but," and his countenance grew
+stern as he spoke, "the water which has been refused to the cry of
+the weary and dying is unholy, though it had been blessed by every
+saint in heaven; and the water which is found in the vessel of mercy
+is holy, though it had been defiled with corpses."
+
+So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his feet.
+On its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. And the dwarf
+shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his hand. "Cast these
+into the river," he said, "and descend on the other side of the
+mountains into the Treasure Valley. And so good speed."
+
+As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. The playing
+colours of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic mist of dewy
+light; he stood for an instant veiled with them as with the belt of a
+broad rainbow. The colours grew faint, the mist rose into the air; the
+monarch had evaporated.
+
+And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its waves were
+as clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun. And, when he cast
+the three drops of dew into the stream, there opened where they fell a
+small circular whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a
+musical noise.
+
+Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed, because
+not only the river was not turned into gold, but its waters seemed
+much diminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend the dwarf, and
+descended the other side of the mountains toward the Treasure Valley;
+and, as he went, he thought he heard the noise of water working its
+way under the ground. And, when he came in sight of the Treasure
+Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden River was springing from a
+new cleft of the rocks above it, and was flowing in innumerable
+streams among the dry heaps of red sand.
+
+And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams, and
+creeping plants grew, and climbed among this moistening soil. Young
+flowers opened suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap out when
+twilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and tendrils of vine,
+cast lengthening shadows over the valley as they grew. And thus the
+Treasure Valley became a garden again, and the inheritance which had
+been lost by cruelty was regained by love.
+
+And Gluck went, and dwelt in the valley, and the poor were never
+driven from his door: so that his barns became full of corn, and his
+house of treasure. And, for him, the river had, according to the
+dwarf's promise, become a River of Gold.
+
+And, to this day, the inhabitants of the valley point out the place
+where the three drops of holy dew were cast into the stream, and trace
+the course of the Golden River under the ground, until it emerges in
+the Treasure Valley. And at the top of the cataract of the Golden
+River are still to be seen two BLACK STONES, round which the waters
+howl mournfully every day at sunset, and these stones are still called
+by the people of the valley _The Black Brothers_.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE SNOW-IMAGE: A CHILDISH MIRACLE
+
+
+One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with
+chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of
+their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. The elder
+child was a girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest
+disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and
+other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her
+brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the
+ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody
+think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. The father of these two
+children, a certain Mr. Lindsey, it is important to say, was an
+excellent but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man, a dealer in
+hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what is called the
+common-sense view of all matters that came under his consideration.
+With a heart about as tender as other people's, he had a head as hard
+and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty, as one of the iron
+pots which it was a part of his business to sell. The mother's
+character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it, a trait of
+unworldly beauty--a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had
+survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive
+amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood.
+
+So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought their mother to
+let them run out and play in the new snow; for, though it had looked
+so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a
+very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shining on it. The children
+dwelt in a city, and had no wider play-place than a little garden
+before the house, divided by a white fence from the street, and with a
+pear-tree and two or three plum-trees overshadowing it, and some
+rose-bushes just in front of the parlour-windows. The trees and
+shrubs, however, were now leafless, and their twigs were enveloped in
+the light snow, which thus made a kind of wintry foliage, with here
+and there a pendent icicle for the fruit.
+
+"Yes, Violet--yes, my little Peony," said their kind mother; "you may
+go out and play in the new snow."
+
+Accordingly, the good lady bundled up her darlings in woollen jackets
+and wadded sacks, and put comforters round their necks, and a pair of
+striped gaiters on each little pair of legs, and worsted mittens on
+their hands, and gave them a kiss apiece, by way of a spell to keep
+away Jack Frost. Forth sallied the two children, with a
+hop-skip-and-jump, that carried them at once into the very heart of a
+huge snow-drift, whence Violet emerged like a snow-bunting, while
+little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom. Then
+what a merry time had they! To look at them, frolicking in the wintry
+garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had
+been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for
+Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the
+snow-birds were, to take delight only in the tempest, and in the white
+mantle which it spread over the earth.
+
+At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of
+snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was
+struck with a new idea.
+
+"You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony," said she, "if your cheeks
+were not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us make an image out
+of snow--an image of a little girl--and it shall be our sister, and
+shall run about and play with us all winter long. Won't it be nice?"
+
+"O, yes!" cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but a
+little boy. "That will be nice! And mamma shall see it!"
+
+"Yes," answered Violet; "mamma shall see the new little girl. But she
+must not make her come into the warm parlour; for, you know, our
+little snow-sister will not love the warmth."
+
+And forthwith the children began this great business of making a
+snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting
+at the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling
+at the gravity with which they set about it. They really seemed to
+imagine that there would be no difficulty whatever in creating a live
+little girl out of the snow. And, to say the truth, if miracles are
+ever to be wrought, it will be by putting our hands to the work in
+precisely such a simple and undoubting frame of mind as that in which
+Violet and Peony now undertook to perform one, without so much as
+knowing that it was a miracle. So thought the mother; and thought,
+likewise, that the new snow, just fallen from heaven, would be
+excellent material to make new beings of, if it were not so very cold.
+She gazed at the children a moment longer, delighting to watch their
+little figures--the girl, tall for her age, graceful and agile, and so
+delicately coloured that she looked like a cheerful thought, more than
+a physical reality; while Peony expanded in breadth rather than
+height, and rolled along on his short and sturdy legs as substantial
+as an elephant, though not quite so big. Then the mother resumed her
+work. What it was I forget; but she was either trimming a silken
+bonnet for Violet, or darning a pair of stockings for little Peony's
+short legs. Again, however, and again, and yet other agains, she could
+not help turning her head to the window to see how the children got on
+with their snow-image.
+
+Indeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight, those bright little
+souls at their task! Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe how
+knowingly and skilfully they managed the matter. Violet assumed the
+chief direction, and told Peony what to do, while, with her own
+delicate fingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the
+snow-figure. It seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the
+children, as to grow up under their hands, while they were playing and
+prattling about it. Their mother was quite surprised at this; and the
+longer she looked, the more and more surprised she grew.
+
+"What remarkable children mine are!" thought she, smiling with a
+mother's pride; and, smiling at herself, too, for being so proud of
+them. "What other children could have made anything so like a little
+girl's figure out of snow at the first trial? Well; but now I must
+finish Peony's new frock, for his grandfather is coming to-morrow, and
+I want the little fellow to look handsome."
+
+So she took up the frock, and was soon as busily at work again with
+her needle as the two children with their snow-image. But still, as
+the needle travelled hither and thither through the seams of the
+dress, the mother made her toil light and happy by listening to the
+airy voices of Violet and Peony. They kept talking to one another all
+the time, their tongues being quite as active as their feet and hands.
+Except at intervals, she could not distinctly hear what was said, but
+had merely a sweet impression that they were in a most loving mood,
+and were enjoying themselves highly, and that the business of making
+the snow-image went prosperously on. Now and then, however, when
+Violet and Peony happened to raise their voices, the words were as
+audible as if they had been spoken in the very parlour, where the
+mother sat. O how delightfully those words echoed in her heart, even
+though they meant nothing so very wise or wonderful, after all!
+
+But you must know a mother listens with her heart, much more than with
+her ears; and thus she is often delighted with the trills of celestial
+music, when other people can hear nothing of the kind.
+
+"Peony, Peony!" cried Violet to her brother, who had gone to another
+part of the garden, "bring me some of that fresh snow, Peony, from the
+very farthest corner, where we have not been trampling. I want it to
+shape our little snow-sister's bosom with. You know that part must be
+quite pure, just as it came out of the sky!"
+
+"Here it is, Violet!" answered Peony, in his bluff tone--but a very
+sweet tone, too--as he came floundering through the half-trodden
+drifts. "Here is the snow for her little bosom. O Violet, how
+beau-ti-ful she begins to look!"
+
+"Yes," said Violet, thoughtfully and quietly; "our snow-sister does
+look very lovely. I did not quite know, Peony, that we could make such
+a sweet little girl as this."
+
+The mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful an
+incident it would be, if fairies, or, still better, if angel-children
+were to come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings,
+and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features of
+celestial babyhood! Violet and Peony would not be aware of their
+immortal playmates--only they could see that the image grew very
+beautiful while they worked at it, and would think that they
+themselves had done it all.
+
+"My little girl and boy deserve such playmates, if mortal children
+ever did!" said the mother to herself; and then she smiled again at
+her own motherly pride.
+
+Nevertheless, the ideas seized upon her imagination; and ever and
+anon, she took a glimpse out of the window, half dreaming that she
+might see the golden-haired children of paradise sporting with her own
+golden-haired Violet and bright-cheeked Peony.
+
+Now, for a few moments, there was a busy and earnest, but indistinct
+hum of the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together
+with one happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit,
+while Peony acted rather as a labourer, and brought her the snow from
+far and near. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper
+understanding of the matter, too!
+
+"Peony, Peony!" cried Violet; for the brother was again at the other
+side of the garden. "Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have
+rested on the lower branches of the pear-tree. You can clamber on the
+snow-drift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make
+some ringlets for our snow-sister's head!"
+
+"Here they are, Violet!" answered the little boy. "Take care you do
+not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!"
+
+"Does she not look sweet?" said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;
+"and now we must have some little shining bits of ice, to make the
+brightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see how
+very beautiful she is; but papa will say, 'Tush! nonsense!--come in
+out of the cold!'"
+
+"Let us call mamma to look out," said Peony; and then he shouted
+lustily, "Mamma! mamma!! mamma!!! Look out, and see what a nice 'ittle
+girl we are making."
+
+The mother put down her work, for an instant, and looked out of the
+window. But it so happened that the sun--for this was one of the
+shortest days of the whole year--had sunken so nearly to the edge of
+the world, that his setting shine came obliquely into the lady's eyes.
+So she was dazzled, you must understand, and could not very distinctly
+observe what was in the garden. Still, however, through all that
+bright, blinding dazzle of the sun and the new snow, she beheld a
+small white figure in the garden, that seemed to have a wonderful deal
+of human likeness about it. And she saw Violet and Peony--indeed, she
+looked more at them than at the image--she saw the two children still
+at work; Peony bringing fresh snow, and Violet applying it to the
+figure as scientifically as a sculptor adds clay to his model.
+Indistinctly as she discerned the snow-child, the mother thought to
+herself that never before was there a snow-figure so cunningly made,
+nor ever such a dear little girl and boy to make it.
+
+"They do everything better than other children," said she, very
+complacently. "No wonder they make better snow-images!"
+
+She sat down again to her work, and made as much haste with it as
+possible; because twilight would soon come, and Peony's frock was not
+yet finished, and grandfather was expected, by railroad, pretty early
+in the morning. Faster and faster, therefore, went her flying fingers.
+The children, likewise, kept busily at work in the garden, and still
+the mother listened, whenever she could catch a word. She was amused
+to observe how their little imaginations had got mixed up with what
+they were doing, and were carried away by it. They seemed positively
+to think that the snow-child would run about and play with them.
+
+"What a nice playmate she will be for us, all winter long!" said
+Violet. "I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold!
+Sha'n't you love her dearly, Peony?"
+
+"O yes!" cried Peony. "And I will hug her and she shall sit down
+close by me, and drink some of my warm milk!"
+
+"O no, Peony!" answered Violet, with grave wisdom. "That will not do
+at all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister.
+Little snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no, Peony;
+we must not give her anything warm to drink!"
+
+There was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legs were
+never weary, had gone on a pilgrimage again to the other side of the
+garden. All of a sudden, Violet cried out, loudly and joyfully--
+
+"Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining on her cheek
+out of that rose-coloured cloud! and the colour does not go away! Is
+not that beautiful!"
+
+"Yes; it is beau-ti-ful," answered Peony, pronouncing the three
+syllables with deliberate accuracy. "O Violet, only look at her hair!
+It is all like gold!"
+
+"O, certainly," said Violet, with tranquillity, as if it were very
+much a matter of course. "That colour, you know, comes from the golden
+clouds, that we see up there in the sky. She is almost finished now.
+But her lips must be made very red--redder than her cheeks. Perhaps,
+Peony, it will make them red if we both kiss them!"
+
+Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both her
+children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But, as this
+did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next proposed
+that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet cheek.
+
+"Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!" cried Peony.
+
+"There! she has kissed you," added Violet, "and her lips are very red.
+And she blushed a little, too!"
+
+"O, what a cold kiss!" cried Peony.
+
+Just then, there came a breeze of the pure west-wind, sweeping
+through the garden and rattling the parlour-windows. It sounded so
+wintry cold, that the mother was about to tap on the window-pane with
+her thimbled finger, to summon the two children in, when they both
+cried out to her with one voice. The tone was not a tone of surprise,
+although they were evidently a good deal excited; it appeared rather
+as if they were very much rejoiced at some event that had now
+happened, but which they had been looking for, and had reckoned upon
+all along.
+
+"Mamma! mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, and she is
+running about the garden with us!"
+
+"What imaginative little beings my children are!" thought the mother,
+putting the last few stitches into Peony's frock. "And it is strange,
+too, that they make me almost as much a child as they themselves are!
+I can hardly help believing, now, that the snow-image has really come
+to life!"
+
+"Dear mamma!" cried Violet, "pray look out and see what a sweet
+playmate we have!"
+
+The mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look forth
+from the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving,
+however, a rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and
+golden clouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent. But
+there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the window or
+on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over the garden, and
+see everything and everybody in it. And what do you think she saw
+there? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling children. Ah,
+but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe me,
+there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with
+rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the
+garden with the two children! A stranger though she was, the child
+seemed to be on as familiar terms with Violet and Peony, and they
+with her, as if all the three had been playmates during the whole of
+their little lives. The mother thought to herself that it must
+certainly be the daughter of one of the neighbours, and that, seeing
+Violet, and Peony in the garden, the child had run across the street
+to play with them. So this kind lady went to the door, intending to
+invite the little runaway into her comfortable parlour; for, now that
+the sunshine was withdrawn, the atmosphere, out of doors, was already
+growing very cold.
+
+But, after opening the house-door, she stood an instant on the
+threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in,
+or whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted
+whether it were a real child, after all, or only a light wreath of the
+new-fallen snow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the
+intensely cold west-wind. There was certainly something very singular
+in the aspect of the little stranger. Among all the children of the
+neighbourhood, the lady could remember no such face, with its pure
+white, and delicate rose-colour, and the golden ringlets tossing about
+the forehead and cheeks. And as for her dress, which was entirely of
+white, and fluttering in the breeze, it was such as no reasonable
+woman would put upon a little girl, when sending her out to play, in
+the depth of winter. It made this kind and careful mother shiver only
+to look at those small feet, with nothing in the world on them, except
+a very thin pair of white slippers. Nevertheless, airily as she was
+clad, the child seemed to feel not the slightest inconvenience from
+the cold, but danced so lightly over the snow that the tips of her
+toes left hardly a print in its surface; while Violet could but just
+keep pace with her, and Peony's short legs compelled him to lag
+behind.
+
+Once, in the course of their play, the strange child placed herself
+between Violet and Peony, and taking a hand of each, skipped merrily
+forward, and they along with her. Almost immediately, however, Peony
+pulled away his little fist, and began to rub it as if the fingers
+were tingling with cold; while Violet also released herself, though
+with less abruptness, gravely remarking that it was better not to take
+hold of hands. The white-robed damsel said not a word, but danced
+about, just as merrily as before. If Violet and Peony did not choose
+to play with her, she could make just as good a playmate of the brisk
+and cold west-wind, which kept blowing her all about the garden, and
+took such liberties with her, that they seemed to have been friends
+for a long time. All this while, the mother stood on the threshold,
+wondering how a little girl could look so much like a flying
+snow-drift, or how a snow-drift could look so very like a little girl.
+
+She called Violet, and whispered to her.
+
+"Violet, my darling, what is this child's name?" asked she. "Does she
+live near us?"
+
+"Why, dearest mamma," answered Violet, laughing to think that her
+mother did not comprehend so very plain an affair, "this is our little
+snow-sister, whom we have just been making!"
+
+"Yes, dear mamma," cried Peony, running to his mother and looking up
+simply into her face, "This is our snow-image! Is it not a nice 'ittle
+child?"
+
+At this instant a flock of snow-birds came flitting through the air.
+As was very natural, they avoided Violet and Peony. But--and this
+looked strange--they flew at once to the white-robed child, fluttered
+eagerly about her head, alighted on her shoulders, and seemed to claim
+her as an old acquaintance. She, on her part, was evidently as glad to
+see these little birds, old Winter's grandchildren, as they were to
+see her, and welcomed them by holding out both her hands. Hereupon,
+they each and all tried to alight on her two palms and ten small
+fingers and thumbs, crowding one another off, with an immense
+fluttering of their tiny wings. One dear little bird nestled tenderly
+in her bosom; another put its bill to her lips. They were as joyous,
+all the while, and seemed as much in their element, as you may have
+seen them when sporting with a snow-storm.
+
+Violet and Peony stood laughing at this pretty sight: for they enjoyed
+the merry time which their new playmate was having with their
+small-winged visitants, almost as much as if they themselves took part
+in it.
+
+"Violet," said her mother, greatly perplexed, "tell me the truth,
+without any jest. Who is this little girl?"
+
+"My darling mamma," answered Violet, looking seriously into her
+mother's face, and apparently surprised that she should need any
+further explanation, "I have told you truly who she is. It is our
+little snow-image, which Peony and I have been making. Peony will tell
+you so, as well as I."
+
+"Yes, mamma," asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his crimson
+little phiz, "this is 'ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one? But,
+mamma, her hand, is oh, so very cold!"
+
+While mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, the
+street-gate was thrown open, and the father of Violet and Peony
+appeared, wrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn down
+over his ears, and the thickest of gloves upon his hands. Mr. Lindsey
+was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy look in his
+wind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy all the
+day long, and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyes
+brightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he could
+not help uttering a word or two of surprise, at finding the whole
+family in the open air, on so bleak a day, and after sunset too. He
+soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro in the
+garden, like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snow-birds
+fluttering about her head.
+
+"Pray, what little girl may that be?" inquired this very sensible man.
+"Surely her mother must be crazy, to let her go out in such bitter
+weather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy white gown and
+those thin slippers!"
+
+"My dear husband," said his wife, "I know no more about the little
+thing than you do. Some neighbour's child, I suppose. Our Violet and
+Peony," she added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a
+story, "insist that she is nothing but a snow-image, which they have
+been busy about in the garden, almost all the afternoon."
+
+As she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot where
+the children's snow-image had been made. What was her surprise, on
+perceiving that there was not the slightest trace of so much
+labour!--no image at all--no piled up heap of snow--nothing whatever,
+save the prints of little footsteps around a vacant space!
+
+"This is very strange!" said she.
+
+"What is strange, dear mother?" asked Violet. "Dear father, do not you
+see how it is? This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made,
+because we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?"
+
+"Yes, papa," said crimson Peony. "This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is
+she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!"
+
+"Pooh, nonsense, children!" cried their good, honest father, who, as
+we have already intimated, had an exceedingly common-sensible way of
+looking at matters. "Do not tell me of making live figures out of
+snow. Come, wife; this little stranger must not stay out in the bleak
+air a moment longer. We will bring her into the parlour; and you
+shall give her a supper of warm bread and milk, and make her as
+comfortable as you can. Meanwhile, I will inquire among the
+neighbours; or, if necessary, send the city-crier about the streets,
+to give notice of a lost child."
+
+So saying, this honest and very kind-hearted man was going toward the
+little white damsel, with the best intentions in the world. But Violet
+and Peony, each seizing their father by the hand, earnestly besought
+him not to make her come in.
+
+"Dear father," cried Violet, putting herself before him, "it is true
+what I have been telling you! This is our little snow-girl, and she
+cannot live any longer than while she breathes the cold west-wind. Do
+not make her come into the hot room!"
+
+"Yes, father," shouted Peony, stamping his little foot, so mightily
+was he in earnest, "this be nothing but our 'ittle snow-child! She
+will not love the hot fire!"
+
+"Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense!" cried the father, half
+vexed, half laughing at what he considered their foolish obstinacy.
+"Run into the house, this moment! It is too late to play any longer,
+now. I must take care of this little girl immediately, or she will
+catch her death a-cold!"
+
+"Husband! dear husband!" said his wife, in a low voice--for she had
+been looking narrowly at the snow-child, and was more perplexed than
+ever--there is something very singular in all this. "You will think me
+foolish--but--but--may it not be that some invisible angel has been
+attracted by the simplicity and good faith with which our children set
+about their undertaking? May he not have spent an hour of his
+immortality in playing with those dear little souls? and so the result
+is what we call a miracle. No, no! Do not laugh at me; I see what a
+foolish thought it is!"
+
+"My dear wife," replied the husband, laughing heartily, "you are as
+much a child as Violet and Peony."
+
+And in one sense so she was, for all through life she had kept her
+heart full of childlike simplicity and faith, which was as pure and
+clear as crystal; and, looking at all matters through this transparent
+medium, she sometimes saw truths so profound, that other people
+laughed at them as nonsense and absurdity.
+
+But now kind Mr. Lindsey had entered the garden, breaking away from
+his two children, who still sent their shrill voices after him,
+beseeching him to let the snow-child stay and enjoy herself in the
+cold west-wind. As he approached, the snow-birds took to flight. The
+little white damsel, also, fled backward, shaking her head, as if to
+say, "Pray, do not touch me!" and roguishly, as it appeared, leading
+him through the deepest of the snow. Once, the good man stumbled, and
+floundered down upon his face, so that, gathering himself up again,
+with the snow sticking to his rough pilot-cloth sack, he looked as
+white and wintry as a snow-image of the largest size. Some of the
+neighbours, meanwhile, seeing him from their windows, wondered what
+could possess poor Mr. Lindsey to be running about his garden in
+pursuit of a snow-drift, which the west-wind was driving hither and
+thither! At length, after a vast deal of trouble, he chased the little
+stranger into a corner, where she could not possibly escape him. His
+wife had been looking on, and, it being nearly twilight, was
+wonderstruck to observe how the snow-child gleamed and sparkled, and
+how she seemed to shed a glow all round about her; and when driven
+into the corner, she positively glistened like a star! It was a frosty
+kind of brightness, too like that of an icicle in the moonlight. The
+wife thought it strange that good Mr. Lindsey should see nothing
+remarkable in the snow-child's appearance.
+
+"Come, you odd little thing!" cried the honest man, seizing her by
+the hand, "I have caught you at last, and will make you comfortable in
+spite of yourself. We will put a nice warm pair of worsted stockings
+on your frozen little feet, and you shall have a good thick shawl to
+wrap yourself in. Your poor white nose, I am afraid, is actually
+frost-bitten. But we will make it all right. Come along in."
+
+And so, with a most benevolent smile on his sagacious visage, all
+purple as it was with the cold, this very well-meaning gentleman took
+the snow-child by the hand and led her towards the house. She followed
+him, droopingly and reluctant; for all the glow and sparkle was gone
+out of her figure; and whereas just before she had resembled a bright
+frosty, star-gemmed evening, with a crimson gleam on the cold horizon,
+she now looked as dull and languid as a thaw. As kind Mr. Lindsey led
+her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony looked into his
+face--their eyes full of tears, which froze before they could run down
+their cheeks--and again entreated him not to bring their snow-image
+into the house.
+
+"Not bring her in!" exclaimed the kind-hearted man. "Why, you are
+crazy, my little Violet!--quite crazy, my small Peony! She is so cold,
+already, that her hand has almost frozen mine, in spite of my thick
+gloves. Would you have her freeze to death?"
+
+His wife, as he came up the steps, had been taking another long,
+earnest, almost awe-stricken gaze at the little white stranger. She
+hardly knew whether it was a dream or not, but she could not help
+fancying that she saw the delicate print of Violet's fingers on the
+child's neck. It looked just as if, while Violet was shaping out the
+image, she had given it a gentle pat with her hand, and had neglected
+to smooth the impression quite away.
+
+"After all, husband," said the mother, recurring to her idea that the
+angels would be as much delighted to play with Violet and Peony as she
+herself was--"after all, she does look strangely like a snow-image! I
+do believe she is made of snow!"
+
+A puff of the west-wind blew against the snow-child, and again she
+sparkled like a star.
+
+"Snow!" repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest over
+this hospitable threshold. "No wonder she looks like snow. She is half
+frozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to
+rights."
+
+Without further talk, and always with the same best intentions, this
+highly benevolent and common-sensible individual led the little white
+damsel--drooping, drooping, drooping, more and more--out of the frosty
+air, and into his comfortable parlour. A Heidenberg stove, filled to
+the brim with intensely burning anthracite, was sending a bright gleam
+through the isinglass of its iron door, and causing the vase of water
+on its top to fume and bubble with excitement. A warm, sultry smell
+was diffused throughout the room. A thermometer on the wall farthest
+from the stove stood at eighty degrees. The parlour was hung with red
+curtains, and covered with a red carpet, and looked just as warm as it
+felt. The difference betwixt the atmosphere here and the cold, wintry
+twilight out of doors, was like stepping at once from Nova Zembla to
+the hottest part of India, or from the North Pole into an oven. O,
+this was a fine place for the little white stranger!
+
+The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearth-rug, right
+in front of the hissing and fuming stove.
+
+"Now she will be comfortable!" cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands
+and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. "Make
+yourself at home, my child."
+
+Sad, sad and drooping, looked the little white maiden, as she stood
+on the hearth-rug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through
+her like a pestilence. Once, she threw a glance wistfully toward the
+windows, and caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the
+snow-covered roofs, and the stars glimmering frostily, and all the
+delicious intensity of the cold night. The bleak wind rattled the
+window-panes, as if it were summoning her to come forth. But there
+stood the snow-child, drooping, before the hot stove!
+
+But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.
+
+"Come, wife," said he, "let her have a pair of thick stockings and a
+woollen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm
+supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your
+little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a
+strange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbours, and
+find out where she belongs."
+
+The mother, meanwhile, had gone in search of the shawl and stockings;
+for her own view of the matter, however subtle and delicate, had given
+way, as it always did, to the stubborn materialism of her husband.
+Without heeding the remonstrances of his two children, who still kept
+murmuring that their little snow-sister did not love the warmth, good
+Mr. Lindsey took his departure, shutting the parlour-door carefully
+behind him. Turning up the collar of his sack over his ears, he
+emerged from the house, and had barely reached the street-gate when he
+was recalled by the screams of Violet and Peony, and the rapping of a
+thimbled finger against the parlour window.
+
+"Husband! husband!" cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken face
+through the window-panes. "There is no need of going for the child's
+parents!"
+
+"We told you so, father!" screamed Violet and Peony, as he re-entered
+the parlour. "You would bring her in; and now our
+poor--dear--beau-ti-ful little snow-sister is thawed!"
+
+And their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears; so
+that their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen in
+this every-day world, felt not a little anxious lest his children
+might be going to thaw too! In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an
+explanation of his wife. She could only reply, that, being summoned to
+the parlour by the cries of Violet and Peony, she found no trace of
+the little white maiden, unless it were the remains of a heap of snow,
+which, while she was gazing at it, melted quite away upon the
+hearth-rug.
+
+"And there you see all that is left of it!" added she, pointing to a
+pool of water, in front of the stove.
+
+"Yes, father," said Violet, looking reproachfully at him, through her
+tears, "there is all that is left of our dear little snow-sister!"
+
+"Naughty father!" cried Peony, stamping his foot, and--I shudder to
+say--shaking his little fist at the common-sensible man. "We told you
+how it would be! What for did you bring her in?"
+
+And the Heidenberg stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to
+glare at good Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon, triumphing in the
+mischief which it had done!
+
+This, you will observe, was one of those rare cases, which yet will
+occasionally happen, where common-sense finds itself at fault. The
+remarkable story of the snow-image, though to that sagacious class of
+people to whom good Mr. Lindsey belongs it may seem but a childish
+affair, is, nevertheless, capable of being moralised in various
+methods, greatly for their edification. One of its lessons, for
+instance, might be that it behooves men, and especially men of
+benevolence, to consider well what they are about, and, before acting
+on their philanthropic purposes, to be quite sure that they comprehend
+the nature and all the relations of the business in hand. What has
+been established as an element of good to one being may prove absolute
+mischief to another; even as the warmth of the parlour was proper
+enough for children of flesh and blood, like Violet and Peony--though
+by no means very wholesome, even for them--involved nothing short of
+annihilation to the unfortunate snow-image.
+
+But, after all, there is no teaching anything to wise men of good Mr.
+Lindsey's stamp. They know everything--O, to be sure!--everything that
+has been, and everything that is, and everything that, by any future
+possibility, can be. And should some phenomenon of nature or
+providence transcend their system, they will not recognise it, even if
+it come to pass under their very noses.
+
+"Wife," said Mr. Lindsey, after a fit of silence, "see what a quantity
+of snow the children have brought in on their feet! It has made quite
+a puddle here before the stove. Pray tell Dora to bring some towels
+and sop it up!"
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+UNDINE
+
+
+I.--HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE
+
+Once--it may be some hundreds of years ago--there lived a good old
+Fisherman, who, on a fine summer's evening, was sitting before the
+door mending his nets. He dwelt in a land of exceeding beauty. The
+green slope, upon which he had built his hut, stretched far out into a
+great lake; and it seemed either that the cape, enamoured of the
+glassy blue waters, had pressed forward into their bosom, or that the
+lake had lovingly folded in its arms the blooming promontory, with her
+waving grass and flowers, and the refreshing shade of her tall trees.
+Each bade the other welcome, and increased its own beauty by so doing.
+This lovely nook was scarcely ever visited by mankind, except by the
+Fisherman and his family. For behind the promontory lay a very wild
+forest, which, beside being gloomy and pathless, had too bad a name as
+the resort of wondrous spirits and goblins, to be crossed by anyone
+who could help it. Yet the pious old Fisherman went through it without
+being molested, whenever he walked to a large city beyond the forest,
+to dispose of the costly fish that he caught in the lake. For him,
+indeed, there was little danger, even in that forest; for his thoughts
+were almost all thoughts of devotion, and his custom was to carol
+forth to Heaven a loud and heartfelt hymn, on first setting foot
+within the treacherous shades.
+
+As he sat this evening most peacefully over his nets, he was startled
+in an unwonted manner by a rustling sound in the forest, like that of
+a man and horse; and the noise came nearer and nearer. The dreams he
+had had in many a stormy night of the spirits of the forest started up
+before his mind, particularly the image of a gigantic long snow-white
+man, who kept nodding his head mysteriously. Nay, as he raised his
+eyes and looked into the forest, he could fancy he saw, through the
+thick screen of leaves, the nodding creature advance toward him. But
+he soon composed himself, recollecting that even in the heart of the
+woods nothing had ever befallen him; much less here, in the open air,
+could the bad spirits have power to touch him. He moreover repeated a
+text from the Bible aloud and earnestly, which quite restored his
+courage, and he almost laughed to see how his fancy had misled him.
+The white nodding man suddenly resolved himself into a little brook he
+knew of old, which gushed bubbling out of the wood, and emptied itself
+into the lake. And the rustling had been caused by a horseman in
+gorgeous attire, who now came forward toward the hut from beneath the
+trees.
+
+He wore a scarlet mantle over his purple, gold-embroidered jerkin; a
+plume of red and purple feathers waved over his gold-coloured
+barret-cap; and from his golden belt hung a glittering jewelled sword.
+The white courser which carried him was of lighter make than the
+generality of chargers, and trod so airily, that the enamelled turf
+seemed scarcely to bend under him. The aged Fisherman could not quite
+shake off his uneasiness, although he told himself that so noble a
+guest could bring him no harm, and accordingly doffed his hat
+courteously, and interrupted his work when he approached.
+
+The Knight reined in his horse, and asked whether they could both
+obtain one night's shelter.
+
+"As to your horse, good sir," answered the Fisherman, "I have no
+better stable to offer him than the shady meadow, and no provender
+but the grass which grows upon it. But you shall yourself be heartily
+welcome to my poor house, and to the best of my supper and night
+lodging."
+
+The stranger seemed quite content; he dismounted, and they helped each
+other to take off the horse's girth and saddle, after which the Knight
+let him graze on the flowery pasture, saying to his host, "Even if I
+had found you less kind and hospitable, my good old man, you must have
+borne with me till to-morrow; for I see we are shut in by a wide lake
+and Heaven forbid that I should cross the haunted forest again at
+nightfall!"
+
+"We will not say much about that," replied the Fisherman; and he led
+his guest into the cottage.
+
+There, close by the hearth, from whence a scanty fire shed its
+glimmering light over the clean little room, sat the Fisherman's old
+wife. When their noble guest came in, she rose to give him a kind
+welcome, but immediately resumed her place of honour, without offering
+it to him; and the Fisherman said with a smile: "Do not take it amiss,
+young sir, if she does not give up to you the most comfortable place;
+it is the custom among us poor people that it should always belong to
+the oldest."
+
+"Why, husband!" said his wife, quietly, "what are you thinking of? Our
+guest is surely a Christian gentleman, and how could it come into his
+kind young heart to turn old people out of their places? Sit down, my
+young lord," added she, turning to the Knight; "there stands a very
+comfortable chair for you; only remember it must not be too roughly
+handled, for one leg is not so steady as it has been." The Knight drew
+the chair carefully forward, seated himself sociably, and soon felt
+quite at home in this little household, and as if he had just returned
+to it from a far journey.
+
+The three friends began to converse openly and familiarly together.
+First the Knight asked a few questions about the forest, but the old
+man would not say much of that; least of all, said he, was it fitting
+to talk of such things at nightfall; but, on household concerns, and
+their own way of life, the old folks talked readily; and were pleased
+when the Knight told them of his travels, and that he had a castle
+near the source of the Danube, and that his name was Lord Huldbrand of
+Ringstetten. In the middle of their discourse, the stranger often
+observed a noise outside a small window, as if someone were dashing
+water against it. The old man knit his brows and looked grave whenever
+this occurred; at last, when a great splash of water came full against
+the panes, and some found its way into the room, he could bear it no
+longer, but started up, crying, "Undine! will you never leave off
+these childish tricks--when we have a stranger gentleman in the house
+too!" This produced silence outside, all but a sound of suppressed
+giggling, and the Fisherman said as he came back; "My honoured guest,
+you must put up with this, and perhaps with many another piece of
+mischief; but she means no harm. It is our adopted child Undine; there
+is no breaking her of her childish ways, though she is eighteen years
+old now. But as I told you she is as good a child as ever lived at
+bottom."
+
+"Ay, so you may say!" rejoined his wife, shaking her head. "When you
+come home from fishing, or from a journey, her playful nonsense may be
+pleasant enough. But, to be keeping her out of mischief all day long,
+as I must do, and never get a word of sense from her, nor a bit of
+help and comfort in my old age, is enough to weary the patience of a
+saint."
+
+"Well, well," said the good man, "you feel toward Undine as I do
+toward the lake. Though its waves are apt enough to burst my banks
+and my nets, yet I love them for all that, and so do you love our
+pretty wench, with all her plaguey tricks. Don't you?"
+
+"Why, one cannot be really angry with her, to be sure," said the dame,
+smiling.
+
+Here the door flew open, and a beautiful fair creature tripped in, and
+said, playfully: "Well, father, you made game of me; where is your
+guest?" The next moment she perceived the Knight, and stood fixed in
+mute admiration; while Huldbrand gazed upon her lovely form, and tried
+to impress her image on his mind, thinking that he must avail himself
+of her amazement to do so, and that in a moment she would shrink away
+in a fit of bashfulness. But it proved otherwise. After looking at him
+a good while, she came up to him familiarly, knelt down beside him,
+and playing with a golden medal that hung from his rich chain, she
+said: "So, thou kind, thou beautiful guest! hast thou found us out in
+our poor hut at last? Why didst thou roam the world so many years
+without coming near us? Art come through the wild forest, my handsome
+friend?" The old woman allowed him no time to answer. She desired her
+to get up instantly, like a modest girl, and to set about her work.
+But Undine, without replying, fetched a footstool and put it close to
+Huldbrand's chair, sat down there with her spinning, and said
+cheerfully--"I will sit and work here." The old man behaved as parents
+are apt to do with spoiled children. He pretended not to see Undine's
+waywardness, and was beginning to talk of something else; but she
+would not let him. She said, "I asked our visitor where he came from,
+and he has not answered me yet."
+
+"From the forest I came, you beautiful sprite," answered Huldbrand;
+and she continued:
+
+"Then you must tell me how you came there, and what wonderful
+adventures you had in it, for I know that nobody can escape without
+some."
+
+Huldbrand could not help shuddering on being reminded of his
+adventures, and involuntarily glanced at the window, half expecting to
+see one of the strange beings he had encountered in the forest
+grinning at him through it; but nothing was to be seen except the deep
+black night, which had now closed in. He recollected himself, and was
+just beginning his narrative, when the old man interposed: "Not just
+now, Sir Knight; this is no time for such tales."
+
+But Undine jumped up passionately, put her beautiful arms akimbo, and
+standing before the Fisherman, exclaimed: "What! may not he tell his
+story, father--may not he? But I will have it; he must. He shall
+indeed!" And she stamped angrily with her pretty feet, but it was all
+done in so comical and graceful a manner, that Huldbrand thought her
+still more bewitching in her wrath, than in her playful mood.
+
+Not so the old man; his long-restrained anger burst out uncontrolled.
+He scolded Undine smartly for her disobedience, and unmannerly conduct
+to the stranger, his wife chiming in.
+
+Undine then said: "Very well, if you will be quarrelsome and not let
+me have my own way, you may sleep alone in your smoky old hut!" and
+she shot through the door like an arrow, and rushed into the dark
+night.
+
+
+II.--HOW UNDINE FIRST CAME TO THE FISHERMAN
+
+Huldbrand and the Fisherman sprang from their seats, and tried to
+catch the angry maiden; but before they could reach the house door,
+Undine had vanished far into the thick shades, and not a sound of her
+light footsteps was to be heard, by which to track her course.
+Huldbrand looked doubtfully at his host; he almost thought that the
+whole fair vision which had so suddenly plunged into the night, must
+be a continuation of the phantom play which had whirled around him in
+his passage through the forest. But the old man mumbled through his
+teeth: "It is not the first time she has served us so. And here are
+we, left in our anxiety with a sleepless night before us; for who can
+tell what harm may befall her, all alone out-of-doors till daybreak?"
+
+"Then let us be after her, good father, for God's sake!" cried
+Huldbrand eagerly.
+
+The old man replied, "Where would be the use? It were a sin to let you
+set off alone in pursuit of the foolish girl, and my old legs would
+never overtake such a Will-with-the-wisp--even if we could guess which
+way she is gone."
+
+"At least let us call her, and beg her to come back," said Huldbrand;
+and he began calling after her in most moving tones: "Undine! O
+Undine, do return!"
+
+The old man shook his head, and said that all the shouting in the
+world would do no good with such a wilful little thing. But yet he
+could not himself help calling out from time to time in the darkness:
+"Undine! ah, sweet Undine! I entreat thee, come back this once."
+
+The Fisherman's words proved true. Nothing was to be seen or heard of
+Undine; and as her foster-father would by no means suffer Huldbrand to
+pursue her, they had nothing for it but to go in again. They found the
+fire on the hearth nearly burnt out, and the dame, who did not take to
+heart Undine's flight and danger so much as her husband, was gone to
+bed. The old man blew the coals, laid on dry wood, and by the light of
+the reviving flames he found a flagon of wine, which he put between
+himself and his guest. "You are uneasy about that silly wench, Sir
+Knight," said he, "and we had better kill part of the night chatting
+and drinking, than toss about in our beds, trying to sleep in vain.
+Had not we?"
+
+Huldbrand agreed; the Fisherman made him sit in his wife's empty
+arm-chair, and they both drank and talked together, as a couple of
+worthy friends should do. Whenever, indeed, there was the least stir
+outside the window, or even sometimes without any, one of them would
+look up and say, "There she comes." Then they would keep silence for a
+few moments, and as nothing came, resume their conversation, with a
+shake of the head and a sigh.
+
+But as neither could think of much beside Undine, the best means they
+could devise for beguiling the time was, that the Fisherman should
+relate, and the Knight listen to, the history of her first coming to
+the cottage. He began as follows:
+
+"One day, some fifteen years ago, I was carrying my fish through that
+dreary wood to the town. My wife stayed at home, as usual; and at that
+time she had a good and pretty reason for it--the Lord had bestowed
+upon us (old as we already were) a lovely babe. It was a girl; and so
+anxious were we to do our best for the little treasure, that we began
+to talk of leaving our beautiful home, in order to give our darling a
+good education among other human beings. With us poor folks, wishing
+is one thing, and doing is quite another, Sir Knight; but what then?
+we can only try our best. Well then, as I plodded on, I turned over
+the scheme in my head. I was loath to leave our own dear nook, and it
+made me shudder to think, in the din and brawls of the town, 'So it is
+here we shall soon live, or in some place nearly as bad!' Yet I never
+murmured against our good God, but rather thanked Him in secret for
+His last blessing; nor can I say that I met with anything
+extraordinary in the forest, either coming or going; indeed nothing to
+frighten me has ever crossed my path. The Lord was ever with me in the
+awful shades."
+
+Here he uncovered his bald head, and sat for a time in silent prayer;
+then putting his cap on again, he continued: "On this side of the wood
+it was--on this side, that the sad news met me. My wife came toward me
+with eyes streaming like two fountains; she was in deep mourning. 'Oh,
+good Heaven!' I called out, 'where is our dear child? Tell me?'
+
+"'Gone, dear husband,' she replied; and we went into our cottage
+together, weeping silently. I looked for the little corpse, and then
+first heard how it had happened. My wife had been sitting on the shore
+with the child, and playing with it, all peace and happiness; when the
+babe all at once leaned over, as if she saw something most beautiful
+in the water; there she sat smiling, sweet angel! and stretching out
+her little hands; but the next moment she darted suddenly out of her
+arms, and down into the smooth waters. I made much search for the poor
+little corpse; but in vain; not a trace of her could I find.
+
+"When evening was come, we childless parents were sitting together in
+the hut, silent; neither of us had a mind to speak, even if the tears
+had let us. We were looking idly into the fire. Just then something
+made a noise at the door. It opened, and a beautiful little maid, of
+three or four years' old stood there gaily dressed, and smiling in our
+faces. We were struck dumb with surprise, and at first hardly knew if
+she were a little human being, or only an empty shadow. But I soon saw
+that her golden hair and gay clothes were dripping wet, and it struck
+me the little fairy must have been in the water and distressed for
+help. 'Wife,' said I, 'our dear child had no friend to save her; shall
+we not do for others what would have made our remaining days so happy,
+if anyone had done it for us?' We undressed the child, put her to bed,
+and gave her a warm drink, while she never said a word, but kept
+smiling at us with her sky-blue eyes.
+
+"The next morning we found she had done herself no harm; and I asked
+her who were her parents, and what had brought her here; but she gave
+me a strange, confused answer. I am sure she must have been born far
+away, for these fifteen years have we kept her, without ever finding
+out where she came from; and besides, she is apt to let drop such
+marvellous things in her talk, that you might think she had lived in
+the moon. She will speak of golden castles, of crystal roofs, and I
+can't tell what beside. The only thing she has told us clearly, is,
+that as she was sailing on the lake with her mother, she fell into the
+water, and when she recovered her senses found herself lying under
+these trees, in safety and comfort, upon our pretty shore.
+
+"So now we had a serious, anxious charge thrown upon us. To keep
+and bring up the foundling, instead of our poor drowned child--that
+was soon resolved upon but who should tell us if she had yet been
+baptised or no? She knew how not how to answer the question. That she
+was one of God's creatures, made for His glory and service, that much
+she knew; and anything that would glorify and please Him, she was
+willing to have done. So my wife and I said to each other: 'If she has
+never been baptised, there is no doubt it should be done; and if she
+was, better do too much than too little, in a matter of such
+consequence.' We therefore began to seek a good name for the child.
+Dorothea seemed to us the best; for I had once heard that meant God's
+gift; and she had indeed been sent us by Him as a special blessing, to
+comfort us in our misery. But she would not hear of that name. She
+said Undine was what her parents used to call her, and Undine she
+would still be. That, I thought, sounded like a heathen name, and
+occurred in no Calendar; and I took counsel with a priest in the town
+about it. He also objected to the name Undine; and at my earnest
+request, came home with me, through the dark forest, in order to
+baptise her. The little creature stood before us, looking so gay and
+charming in her holiday clothes, that the priest's heart warmed toward
+her; and what with coaxing and wilfulness, she got the better of him,
+so that he clean forgot all the objections he had thought of to the
+name Undine. She was therefore so christened and behaved particularly
+well and decently during the sacred rite, wild and unruly as she had
+always been before. For, what my wife said just now was too true--we
+have indeed found her the wildest little fairy! If I were to tell you
+all--"
+
+Here the Knight interrupted the Fisherman, to call his attention to a
+sound of roaring waters, which he had noticed already in the pauses of
+the old man's speech, and which now rose in fury as it rushed past the
+windows. They both ran to the door. By the light of the newly risen
+moon, they saw the brook which gushed out of the forest breaking
+wildly over its banks, and whirling along stones and branches in its
+eddying course. A storm, as if awakened by the uproar, burst from the
+heavy clouds that were chasing each other across the moon; the lake
+howled under the wings of the wind; the trees on the shore groaned
+from top to bottom, and bowed themselves over the rushing waters.
+"Undine! for God's sake, Undine!" cried the Knight, and the old man.
+No answer was to be heard; and, heedless now of any danger to
+themselves, they ran off in different directions, calling her in
+frantic anxiety.
+
+
+III.--HOW THEY FOUND UNDINE AGAIN
+
+The longer Huldbrand wandered in vain pursuit of Undine, the more
+bewildered he became. The idea that she might be a mere spirit of the
+woods, sometimes returned upon him with double force; nay, amid the
+howling waves and storm, the groaning of trees, and the wild commotion
+of the once-peaceful spot, he might have fancied the whole promontory,
+its hut and its inhabitants, to be a delusion of magic, but that he
+still heard in the distance the Fisherman's piteous cries of "Undine!"
+and the old housewife's loud prayers and hymns, above the whistling of
+the blast.
+
+At last he found himself on the margin of the overflowing stream, and
+saw it by the moonlight rushing violently along, close to the edge of
+the mysterious forest so as to make an island of the peninsula on
+which he stood. "Gracious Heaven!" thought he, "Undine may have
+ventured a step or two into that awful forest--perhaps in her pretty
+waywardness, just because I would not tell her my story--and the
+swollen stream has cut her off, and left her weeping alone among the
+spectres!" A cry of terror escaped him, and he clambered down the bank
+by means of some stones and fallen trees, hoping to wade or swim
+across the flood, and seek the fugitive beyond it. Fearful and
+unearthly visions did indeed float before him, like those he had met
+with in the morning, beneath these groaning, tossing branches.
+Especially he was haunted by the appearance of a tall white man, whom
+he remembered but too well, grinning and nodding at him from the
+opposite bank; however, the thought of these grim monsters did but
+urge him onward as he recollected Undine, now perhaps in deadly fear
+among them, and alone.
+
+He had laid hold of a stout pine branch, and leaning on it, was
+standing in the eddy, though scarcely able to stem it, but he stepped
+boldly forward--when a sweet voice exclaimed close behind him: "Trust
+him not--trust not! The old fellow is tricksy--the stream!"
+
+Well he knew those silver tones: the moon was just disappearing behind
+a cloud, and he stood amid the deepening shades, made dizzy as the
+water shot by him with the speed of an arrow. Yet he would not desist.
+"And if thou art not truly there, if thou flittest before me an empty
+shadow, I care not to live; I will melt into air like thee, my beloved
+Undine!" This he cried aloud, and strode further into the flood.
+
+"Look round then--look round, fair youth!" he heard just behind him,
+and looking round, he beheld by the returning moonbeams, on a fair
+island left by the flood, under some thickly interlaced branches,
+Undine all smiles and loveliness, nestling in the flowery grass. How
+much more joyfully than before did the young man use his pine staff to
+cross the waters! A few strides brought him through the flood that had
+parted them; and he found himself at her side, on the nook of soft
+grass, securely sheltered under the shade of the old trees. Undine
+half arose, and twined her arms round his neck in the green arbour,
+making him sit down by her on the turf. "Here you shall tell me all,
+my own friend," said she in a low whisper; "the cross old folks cannot
+overhear us. And our pretty bower of leaves is well worth their
+wretched hut."
+
+"This is heaven!" cried Huldbrand, as he clasped in his arms the
+beautiful flatterer.
+
+Meantime the old man had reached the banks of the stream, and he
+called out: "So, Sir Knight, when I had made you welcome, as one
+honest man should another, here are you making love to my adopted
+child--to say nothing of your leaving me to seek her, alone and
+terrified, all night."
+
+"I have but this moment found her, old man!" cried the Knight in
+reply.
+
+"Well, I am glad of that," said the Fisherman; "now then bring her
+back to me at once."
+
+But Undine would not hear of it. She had rather she said, go quite
+away into the wild woods with the handsome stranger, than return to
+the hut, where she had never had her own way, and which the Knight
+must sooner or later leave. Embracing Huldbrand, she sang with
+peculiar charm and grace:
+
+"From misty cave the mountain wave
+  Leapt out and sought the main!
+The Ocean's foam she made her home,
+  And ne'er returned again."
+
+The old man wept bitterly as she sang, but this did not seem to move
+her. She continued to caress her lover, till at length he said:
+"Undine, the poor old man's grief goes to my heart if not to yours.
+Let us go back to him."
+
+Astonished, she raised her large blue eyes toward him, and after a
+pause answered slowly and reluctantly: "To please you, I will:
+whatever you like pleases me too. But the old man yonder must first
+promise me that he will let you tell me all you saw in the forest, and
+the rest we shall see about."
+
+"Only come back--do come!" cried the Fisherman, and not another word
+could he say. At the same moment he stretched his arms over the stream
+toward her, and nodded his head by way of giving her the desired
+promise; and as his white hair fell over his face, it gave him a
+strange look, and reminded Huldbrand involuntarily of the nodding
+white man in the woods. Determined, however, that nothing should stop
+him, the young Knight took the fair damsel in his arms, and carried
+her through the short space of foaming flood, which divided the island
+from the mainland. The old man fell upon Undine's neck, and rejoiced,
+and kissed her in the fulness of his heart; his aged wife also came
+up, and welcomed their recovered child most warmly. All reproaches
+were forgotten; the more so, as Undine seemed to have left her
+sauciness behind, and overwhelmed her foster parents with kind words
+and caresses.
+
+When these transports of joy had subsided, and they began to look
+about them, the rosy dawn was just shedding its glow over the lake,
+the storm had ceased, and the birds were singing merrily on the wet
+branches. As Undine insisted upon hearing the story of the Knight's
+adventure, both the old folks cheerfully indulged her. Breakfast was
+set out under the trees between the cottage and the lake, and they sat
+down before it with glad hearts, Undine placing herself resolutely on
+the grass at the Knight's feet. Huldbrand began his narrative as
+follows.
+
+
+IV.--OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE KNIGHT IN THE FOREST
+
+"About eight days ago, I rode into the imperial city beyond this
+forest. A grand tournament and tilting was held there, and I spared
+neither lance nor steed. As I stood still a moment to rest myself, in
+a pause of the noble game, and had just given my helmet in charge to a
+squire, my eye fell upon a most beautiful woman, who stood, richly
+adorned, in one of the galleries, looking on. I inquired her name,
+and found that this charming lady was Bertalda, the adopted daughter
+of one of the principal lords in the neighbourhood. I observed that
+her eye was upon me too, and as is the way with us young knights, I
+had not been slack before, but I now fought more bravely still. That
+evening I was Bertalda's partner in the dance, and so I was again
+every evening during the jousting."
+
+Here a sudden pain in his left hand, which hung beside him, checked
+the Knight in his tale, and he looked at his hand. Undine's pearly
+teeth had bitten one of his fingers sharply, and she looked very black
+at him. But the next moment that look changed into an expression of
+tender sadness, and she whispered low: "So you are faithless too!"
+Then she hid her face in her hands, and the Knight proceeded with his
+tale, although staggered and perplexed.
+
+"That Bertalda is a high-spirited, extraordinary maid. On the second
+day she charmed me far less than the first, and on the third, less
+still. But I remained with her, because she was more gracious to me
+than to any other knight, and so it fell out that I asked her in jest
+for one of her gloves. 'You shall have it,' said she, 'if you will
+visit the haunted forest alone, and bring me an account of it.' It was
+not that I cared much for her glove, but the words had been spoken,
+and a knight that loves his fame does not wait to be twice urged to
+such a feat."
+
+"I thought she had loved you," interrupted Undine.
+
+"It looked like it," he replied.
+
+"Well," cried the maiden, laughing, "she must be a fool indeed! To
+drive _him_ away whom she loves! and into a haunted forest besides!
+The forest and its mysteries might have waited long enough, for me."
+
+"I set out yesterday morning," continued the Knight, smiling kindly at
+Undine. "The stems of the trees looked so bright in the morning
+sunshine, as it played upon the green turf, and the leaves whispered
+together so pleasantly, that I could not but laugh at those who
+imagined any evil to lurk in such a beautiful place. I shall very soon
+have ridden through it and back again, thought I, pushing on cheerily,
+and before I was aware of it, I found myself in the depths of its
+leafy shades, and the plains behind me far out of sight. It then
+occurred to me that I was likely enough to lose my way in this
+wilderness of trees, and that this might be the only real danger to
+which the traveller was here exposed. So I halted, and took notice of
+the course of the sun; it was now high in the heavens.
+
+"On looking up, I saw something black among the boughs of a tall oak.
+I took it for a bear, and seized my rifle; but it addressed me in a
+human voice, most hoarse and grating, saying: 'If I did not break off
+the twigs up here, what should we do to-night for fuel to roast you
+with, Sir Simpleton?' And he gnashed his teeth, and rattled the
+boughs, so as to startle my horse, which ran away with me before I
+could make out what kind of a devil it was."
+
+"You should not mention _his_ name," said the Fisherman, crossing
+himself; his wife silently did the same, while Undine turned her
+beaming eyes upon her lover, and said--
+
+"He is safe now; it is well they did not really roast him. Go on,
+pretty youth."
+
+He continued: "My terrified horse had almost dashed me against many a
+trunk and branch; he was running down with fright and heat, and yet
+there was no stopping him. At length he rushed madly toward the brink
+of a stony precipice; but here, as it seemed to me, a tall white man
+threw himself across the plunging animal's path, and made him start
+back, and stop. I then recovered the control of him, and found that,
+instead of a white man, my preserver was no other than a bright
+silvery brook, which gushed down from the hill beside me, checking and
+crossing my horse in his course."
+
+"Thanks, dear brook!" cried Undine, clapping her hands. But the old
+man shook his head, and seemed lost in thought.
+
+"Scarcely had I settled myself in the saddle, and got firm hold of my
+reins again," proceeded Huldbrand, "when an extraordinary little man
+sprang up beside me, wizen and hideous beyond measure; he was of a
+yellow-brown hue, and his nose almost as big as the whole of his body.
+He grinned at me in the most fulsome way with his wide mouth, bowing
+and scraping every moment. As I could not abide these antics, I
+thanked him abruptly, pulled my still-trembling horse another way, and
+thought I would seek some other adventure, or perhaps go home; for
+during my wild gallop the sun had passed his meridian, and was now
+declining westward. But the little imp sprang round like lightning,
+and stood in front of my horse again.
+
+"'Make way!' cried I impatiently, 'the animal is unruly, and may run
+over you.'
+
+"'Oh,' snarled the imp, with a laugh more disgusting than before,
+'first give me a piece of coin for having caught your horse so nicely;
+but for me, you and your pretty beast would be lying in the pit down
+yonder: whew!'
+
+"'Only have done with your grimaces,' said I, 'and take your money
+along with you, though it is all a lie: look there, it was that honest
+brook that saved me, not you--you pitiful wretch!' So saying, I
+dropped a gold coin into his comical cap, which he held out toward me
+like a beggar.
+
+"I trotted on, but he still followed, screaming, and, with
+inconceivable rapidity, whisked up to my side. I put my horse into a
+gallop; he kept pace with me, though with much difficulty, and twisted
+his body into various frightful and ridiculous attitudes, crying at
+each step as he held up the money: 'Bad coin! bad gold! bad gold! bad
+coin!' And this he shrieked in such a ghastly tone, that you would
+have expected him to drop down dead after each cry.
+
+"At last I stopped, much vexed, and asked, 'What do you want, with
+your shrieks? Take another gold coin; take two if you will, only let
+me alone.'
+
+"He began his odious smirking again, and snarled, 'It's not gold, it's
+not gold that I want, young gentleman; I have rather more of that than
+I can use: you shall see.'
+
+"All at once the surface of the ground became transparent; it looked
+like a smooth globe of green glass, and within it I saw a crowd of
+goblins at play with silver and gold. Tumbling about, head over heels
+they pelted each other in sport, making a toy of the precious metals,
+and powdering their faces with gold dust. My ugly companion stood half
+above, half below the surface; he made the others reach up to him
+quantities of gold, and showed it to me laughing, and then flung it
+into the fathomless depths beneath. He displayed the piece of gold I
+had given him to the goblins below, who held their sides with laughing
+and hissed at me in scorn. At length all their bony fingers pointed at
+me together; and louder and louder, closer and closer, wilder and
+wilder grew the turmoil, as it rose toward me, till not my horse only,
+but I myself was terrified; I put spurs into him, and cannot tell how
+long I may have scoured the forest this time.
+
+"When at last I halted, the shades of evening had closed in. Through
+the branches I saw a white footpath gleaming and hoped it must be a
+road out of the forest to the town. I resolved to work my way thither;
+but lo! an indistinct, dead-white face, with ever-changing features,
+peeped at me through the leaves; I tried to avoid it, but wherever I
+went, there it was. Provoked, I attempted to push my horse against
+it; then it splashed us both over with white foam, and we turned away,
+blinded for the moment. So it drove us, step by step, further and
+further from the footpath, and indeed never letting us go on
+undisturbed but in one direction. While we kept to this, it was close
+upon our heels, but did not thwart us. Having looked round once or
+twice, I observed that the white foaming head was placed on a gigantic
+body, equally white. I sometimes doubted my first impression, and
+thought it merely a waterfall, but I never could satisfy myself that
+it was so. Wearily did my horse and I precede this active white
+pursuer, who often nodded at us, as if saying, 'That's right! that's
+right!' and it ended by our issuing from the wood here, where I
+rejoiced to see your lawn, the lake, and this cottage, and where the
+long white man vanished."
+
+"Thank Heaven, he is gone," said the old man, and he then proceeded to
+consider how his guest could best return to his friends in the city.
+Upon this, Undine was heard to laugh in a whisper.
+
+Huldbrand observed it, and said: "I thought you had wished me to stay;
+and now you seem pleased when we talk of my going?"
+
+"Because," replied Undine, "you cannot get away. Only try to cross the
+swollen brook, in a boat, on horseback, or on foot. Or rather, do not
+try, for you would be dashed to pieces by the branches and stones that
+it hurls along. And as to the lake, I know how that is: father never
+ventures across it in his boat."
+
+Huldbrand laughed, and got up to see whether she had spoken true; the
+old man went with him, and the maiden tripped along playfully by their
+side. They found she had told them no worse than the truth and the
+Knight resigned himself to staying in the island, as it might now be
+called till the floods had subsided. As they returned homeward, he
+whispered in his pretty companion's ear--"Well, my little Undine! are
+you angry at my staying?"
+
+"Ah," said she sullenly, "never mind. If I had not bitten you, who
+knows what might have come out in your story of Bertalda?"
+
+
+V.--OF THE LIFE WHICH THE KNIGHT LED ON THE ISLAND
+
+Has it ever befallen thee, gentle reader, after many ups and downs in
+this troublesome world, to alight upon a spot where thou foundest
+rest; where the love which is born with us for fireside comfort and
+domestic peace, revived in thee; where thou couldst fancy thy early
+home with the blossoms of childhood, its pure, heartfelt affection,
+and the holy influence breathed from thy fathers' graves, to be
+restored to thee--and that it must indeed be "good for thee to be
+here, and to build tabernacles?" The charm may have been broken, the
+dream dispelled; but that has nothing to do with our present picture;
+nor wilt thou care to dwell on such bitter moments; but recall to mind
+that period of unspeakable peace, that foretaste of angelic rest which
+was granted thee, and thou wilt partly conceive what the Knight
+Huldbrand felt, while he lived on the promontory. Often, with secret
+satisfaction, did he mark the forest stream rolling by more wildly
+every day; its bed became wider and wider, and he felt the period of
+his seclusion from the world must be still prolonged. Having found an
+old crossbow in a corner of the cottage, and mended it, he spent part
+of his days roving about, waylaying the birds that flew by, and
+bringing whatever he killed to the kitchen, as rare game. When he came
+back laden with spoil, Undine would often scold him for taking the
+life of the dear little joyous creatures, soaring in the blue depths
+of Heaven; she would even weep bitterly over the dead birds. But if he
+came home empty-handed, she found fault with his awkwardness and
+laziness, which obliged them to be content with fish and crabs for
+dinner. Either way, he took delight in her pretty fits of anger; the
+more so as she rarely failed to make up for them by the fondest
+caresses afterwards. The old folks, having been in the young people's
+confidence from the first, unconsciously looked upon them as a
+betrothed or even married pair, shut out from the world with them in
+this retreat, and bestowed upon them for comforts in their old age.
+And this very seclusion helped to make the young Knight feel as if he
+were already Undine's bridegroom. It seemed to him that the whole
+world was contained within the surrounding waters, or at any rate,
+that he could never more cross that charmed boundary, and rejoin other
+human beings. And if at times the neighing of his steed reminded him
+of former feats of chivalry, and seemed to ask for more; if his coat
+of arms, embroidered on the saddle and trappings, caught his eye; or
+if his good sword fell from the nail on which he had hung it and
+slipped out of its scabbard, he would silence the misgivings that
+arose, by thinking, Undine is not a fisherman's daughter, but most
+likely sprung from some highly noble family in distant lands. The only
+thing that ever ruffled him, was to hear the old woman scolding
+Undine. The wayward girl only laughed at her; but to him it seemed as
+if his own honour were touched; and yet he could not blame the good
+wife, for Undine mostly deserved ten times worse than she got,
+therefore he still felt kindly toward the old dame, and these little
+rubs scarcely disturbed the even current of their lives.
+
+At length, however, a grievance did arise. The Knight and the
+Fisherman were in the habit of sitting cheerfully over a flask of
+wine, both at noon, and also at eventide while the wind whistled
+around, as it generally did at night. But they had now exhausted the
+whole stock which the Fisherman had, long since, brought from the town
+with him and they both missed it sadly. Undine laughed at them all day
+for it, but they could not join in her mirth as heartily as usual.
+Toward evening she left the cottage, saying she could no longer bear
+such long dismal faces. As the twilight looked stormy, and the waters
+were beginning to moan and heave, the Knight and the old man ran out
+anxiously to fetch her back, remembering the agony of that night when
+Huldbrand first came to the cottage. But they were met by Undine,
+clapping her hands merrily. "What will you give me if I get you some
+wine? But, indeed, I want no reward for it," she added; "I shall be
+satisfied if you will but look brighter, and find more to say than you
+have done all these tedious mornings. Come along; the floods have
+washed a barrel ashore, and I will engage to sleep a whole week
+through if it is not a barrel of wine!"
+
+The men both followed her to a shady creek, and there found a barrel,
+which did look as if it contained the generous liquor which they
+longed for. They rolled it toward the hut as fast as they could, for a
+heavy storm seemed stalking across the sky, and there was light enough
+left to show them the waves of the lake tossing up their foaming
+heads, as if looking out for the rain which would soon pour down upon
+them. Undine lent a hand in the work, and presently, when the shower
+threatened to break instantly over their heads, she spoke to the big
+clouds in playful defiance: "You, you there! mind you do not give us a
+drenching; we are some way from home yet." The old man admonished her
+that this was sinful presumption, but she laughed slyly to herself,
+and no harm came of it. Beyond their hopes, they all three reached the
+comfortable fireside with their prize, unhurt; and it was not till
+they had opened the barrel, and found it to contain excellent wine,
+that the rain broke from the heavy clouds in torrents, and they heard
+the storm roaring among the trees, and over the lake's heaving
+billows.
+
+A few bottles were soon filled from the great barrel, enough to last
+them several days; and they sat sipping and chatting over the bright
+fire, secure from the raging tempest. But the old man's heart
+presently smote him. "Dear me," said he, "here are we making merry
+over the blessing of Providence, while the owner of it has perhaps
+been carried away by the flood, and lost his life!"--"No, that he has
+not," said Undine, smiling; and she filled the Knight's glass again.
+He replied, "I give you my word, good father, that if I knew how to
+find and save him, no danger should deter me; I would not shrink from
+setting out in this darkness. This much I promise you, if ever I set
+foot in an inhabited country again, I will make inquiry after him or
+his heirs, and restore to them twice or three times the value of the
+wine." This pleased the old man, he gave an approving nod to the
+Knight, and drained his glass with a better conscience and a lighter
+heart. But Undine said to Huldbrand, "Do as you like with your money,
+you may make what compensation you please; but as to setting out and
+wandering after him, that was hastily said. I should cry my heart out
+if we chanced to lose you; and had not you rather stay with me and
+with the good wine?" "Why, yes!" said Huldbrand, laughing. "Well
+then," rejoined Undine, "it was a foolish thing you talked of doing;
+charity begins at home, you know." The old woman turned away, shaking
+her head and sighing; her husband forgot his usual indulgence for the
+pretty lassie, and reproved her sharply. "One would think," said he,
+"you had been reared by Turks and heathens; God forgive you and us,
+you perverse child."--"Ay but it _is_ my way of thinking," pursued
+Undine, "whoever has reared me, so what is the use of your
+talking?"--"Peace!" cried the Fisherman; and she, who with all her
+wildness was sometimes cowed in a moment, clung trembling to
+Huldbrand, and whispered, "And are you angry with me, dear friend?"
+The Knight pressed her soft hand, and stroked down her ringlets. Not a
+word could he say; his distress at the old man's harshness toward
+Undine had sealed his lips; and so each couple remained sitting
+opposite the other, in moody silence and constraint.
+
+
+VI.--OF A BRIDAL
+
+A gentle tap at the door broke the silence, and made them all start:
+it sometimes happens that a mere trifle, coming quite unexpectedly,
+strikes the senses with terror. They looked at each other hesitating;
+the tap was repeated, accompanied by a deep groan, and the Knight
+grasped his sword. But the old man muttered, "If it is what I fear, it
+is not a sword that will help us!" Undine, however, stepped forward to
+the door, and said boldly and sharply, "If you are after any mischief,
+you spirits of earth, Kühleborn shall teach you manners."
+
+The terror of the others increased at these strange words; they looked
+at the maiden with awe, and Huldbrand was just mustering courage to
+ask her a question, when a voice answered her from without: "I am no
+spirit of earth; call me, if you will, a spirit pent in mortal clay.
+If you fear God, and will be charitable, you dwellers in the cottage,
+open the door to me." Undine opened it before he had done speaking,
+and held out a lamp into the stormy night, so as to show them the
+figure of an aged Priest, who started back as the radiant beauty of
+Undine flashed upon his sight. Well might he suspect magic and
+witchery, when so bright a vision shone out of a mean-looking cottage;
+he accordingly began a canticle, "All good spirits give praise to the
+Lord!"
+
+"I am no ghost," said Undine, smiling; "am I so frightful to behold?
+And you may see that a pious saying has no terrors for me. I worship
+God, too, and praise Him after my own fashion; He has not created us
+all alike. Come in, venerable father; you will find worthy folks
+here."
+
+The holy man walked in, bowing and casting his eyes around, and
+looking most mild and venerable. Every fold of his dark garment was
+dripping with water, and so were his long white beard and hoary locks.
+The Fisherman and the Knight led him to a bedroom, and gave him change
+of clothing, while the women dried his wet garments by the hearth
+fire. The aged stranger thanked them with all humility and gentleness,
+but would by no means accept of the Knight's splendid mantle, which he
+offered him; he chose himself an old gray wrapper of the Fisherman's
+instead. So they returned to the kitchen; the dame up gave her own
+arm-chair to the Priest, and had no peace till he sat himself down on
+it: "For," said she, "you are old and weary, and a priest besides."
+Undine pushed her little footstool toward the good man's feet, and
+altogether behaved to him quite properly and gracefully. Huldbrand
+took notice of this, in a playful whisper; but she answered very
+gravely: "Because he is a servant of the Maker of us all; that is too
+serious for a jest."
+
+Meantime the two men set meat and wine before their guest, and when he
+had recruited his strength a little, he began his story; saying that
+the day before he had left his monastery, which was a good way off
+beyond the lake, intending to visit the bishop at his palace, and
+report to him the distress which these almost supernatural floods had
+caused the monks and their poor tenantry. After going round a long
+way, to avoid these floods, he had been obliged toward evening to
+cross an arm of the overflowing lake, with the help of two honest
+sailors. "But," added he, "no sooner had our little vessel touched the
+waves, than we were wrapped in the tremendous storm, which is still
+raging over our heads now. It looked as if the waters had only awaited
+our coming to give a loose to their fury. The oars were soon dashed
+from the seamen's hands, and we saw their broken fragments carried
+further and further from us by the waves. We floated on the wave tops,
+helpless, driven by the furious tempest toward your shores, which we
+saw in the distance whenever the clouds parted for a moment. The boat
+was tossed about still more wildly and giddily: and whether it upset,
+or I fell out, I cannot tell. I floated on, till a wave landed me at
+the foot of a tree, in this your island."
+
+"Ay, island indeed!" said the Fisherman. "It was a promontory but a
+short time ago. But, since the stream and our lake are gone raving mad
+together, everything about us is new and strange."
+
+The Priest continued: "As I crept along the water-side in the dark,
+with a wild uproar around me, something caught my eye, and presently I
+descried a beaten pathway, which was soon lost in the shades; I spied
+the light in your cottage, and ventured to come hither; and I cannot
+sufficiently thank my heavenly Father, who has not only delivered me
+from the waters, but guided me to such kind souls. I feel this
+blessing the more, as it is very likely I may never see any faces but
+yours again."--"How so?" asked the fisherman. "Can you guess how long
+this fury of the elements may last?" replied the Priest. "And I am an
+old man. My stream of life may perhaps lose itself in the earth,
+before these floods subside. And besides, it may be the foaming waters
+will divide you from the forest more and more, till you are unable to
+get across in your fishing boat; and the people of the mainland, full
+of their own concerns, would quite forget you in your retreat."
+
+Shuddering, and crossing herself, the Fisherman's wife exclaimed, "God
+forbid!" But the old man smiled at her, and said, "What creatures we
+are. That would make no difference, to you at least, my dear wife. How
+many years is it since you have set foot within the forest? And have
+you seen any face but Undine's and mine? Lately, indeed, we have had
+the good Knight and Priest besides. But they would stay with us; so
+that if we are forgotten in this island, you will be the gainer."
+
+"So I see," said the dame; "yet somehow, it is cheerless to feel
+ourselves quite cut off from the rest of the world, however seldom we
+had seen it before."
+
+"Then _you_ will stay with us!" murmured Undine in a sweet voice, and
+she pressed closer to Huldbrand's side. But he was lost in deep
+thought. Since the Priest had last spoken, the land beyond the wild
+stream had seemed to his fancy more dark and distant than ever; while
+the flowery island he lived in--and his bride, the fairest flower in
+the picture--bloomed and smiled more and more freshly in his
+imagination. Here was the Priest at hand to unite them;--and, to
+complete his resolution, the old dame just then darted a reproving
+look at Undine, for clinging to her lover's side in the holy man's
+presence; an angry lecture seemed on the point of beginning. He turned
+toward the Priest, and these words burst from him: "You see before
+you a betrothed pair, reverend sir; if this damsel and the kind old
+people will consent, you shall unite us this very evening."
+
+The old folks were much surprised. Such a thought had often crossed
+their minds, but they had never till this moment heard it uttered; and
+it now fell upon their ears like an unexpected thing. Undine had
+suddenly become quite grave, and sat musing deeply, while the Priest
+inquired into various circumstances, and asked the old couple's
+consent to the deed. After some deliberation, they gave it; the dame
+went away to prepare the young people's bridal chamber, and to fetch
+from her stores two consecrated tapers for the wedding ceremony.
+Meanwhile the Knight was pulling two rings off his gold chain for
+himself and his bride to exchange. But this roused Undine from her
+reverie, and she said: "Stay! my parents did not send me into the
+world quite penniless; they looked forward long ago to this occasion
+and provided for it." She quickly withdrew, and returned bringing two
+costly rings, one of which she gave to her betrothed and kept the
+other herself. This astonished the old Fisherman, and still more his
+wife, who came in soon after; for they neither of them had ever seen
+these jewels about the child. "My parents," said Undine, "had these
+rings sewed into the gay dress which I wore, when first I came to you.
+They charged me to let no one know of them till my wedding-day came.
+Therefore I took them secretly out of the dress, and have kept them
+hidden till this evening."
+
+Here the Priest put a stop to the conversation, by lighting the holy
+tapers, placing them on the table, and calling the young pair to him.
+With few and solemn words he joined their hands; the aged couple gave
+their blessing, while the bride leaned upon her husband, pensive and
+trembling.
+
+When it was over, the Priest said: "You are strange people after all!
+What did you mean by saying you were the only inhabitants of this
+island? During the whole ceremony there was a fine-looking tall man,
+in a white cloak, standing just outside the window opposite me. He
+must be near the door still, if you like to invite him in."--"Heaven
+forbid!" said the dame shuddering; the old man shook his head without
+speaking; and Huldbrand rushed to the window. He could fancy he saw a
+streak of white, but it was soon lost in darkness. So he assured the
+Priest he must have been mistaken; and they all sat down comfortably
+round the fire.
+
+
+VII.--HOW THE REST OF THE EVENING PASSED AWAY
+
+Undine had been perfectly quiet and well-behaved both before and
+during the marriage ceremony; but now her wild spirits seemed the more
+uncontrollable from the restraint they had undergone, and rose to an
+extravagant height. She played all manner of childish tricks on her
+husband, her foster parents, and even the venerable Priest, and when
+the old woman began to check her, one or two words from Huldbrand, who
+gravely called Undine "his wife," reduced her to silence. The Knight
+himself, however, was far from being pleased at Undine's childishness;
+but no hint or sign would stop her. Whenever she perceived his
+disapproving looks--which she occasionally did--it subdued her for the
+moment; she would sit down by him, whisper something playfully in his
+ear, and so dispel the frown as it gathered on his brow. But the next
+instant some wild nonsense would dart into her head, and set her off
+worse than ever. At last the Priest said to her, in a kind but grave
+manner, "My dear young lady, no one that beholds you can be severe
+upon you, it is true; but remember, it is your duty to keep watch over
+your soul, that it may be ever in harmony with that of your wedded
+husband." "Soul!" cried Undine, laughing; "that sounds very fine, and
+for most people may be very edifying and moral advice. But if one has
+no soul at all, pray how is one to keep watch over it? And that is my
+case." The Priest was deeply hurt, and turned away his face in mingled
+sorrow and anger. But she came up to him beseechingly, and said, "Nay,
+hear me before you are angry, for it grieves me to see you displeased,
+and you would not distress any creature who has done you no harm. Only
+have patience with me, and I will tell you all, from the beginning."
+
+They saw she was preparing to give them a regular history; but she
+stopped short, appearing thrilled by some secret recollection, and
+burst into a flood of gentle tears. They were quite at a loss what to
+think of her, and gazed upon her, distressed from various causes. At
+length drying her eyes, she looked at the Priest earnestly and said,
+"There must be much to love in a soul, but much that is awful too. For
+God's sake, holy father, tell me--were it not better to be still
+without one?" She waited breathlessly for an answer, restraining her
+tears. Her hearers had all risen from their seats, and now stepped
+back from her, shuddering. She seemed to have no eyes but for the
+saintly man; her countenance assumed an expression of anxiety and awe
+which yet more alarmed the others. "Heavy must be the burden of a
+soul," added she, as no one answered her--"heavy indeed! for the mere
+approach of mine over-shadows me with anxious melancholy. And ah! how
+light-hearted, how joyous I used to be!" A fresh burst of weeping
+overcame her, and she covered her face with her veil.
+
+The Priest then approached her with much gravity, and adjured her by
+the holiest names to confess the truth, if any evil lurked in her,
+unknown to them. But she fell on her knees before him, repeated after
+him all his words of piety, gave praise to God, and declared she was
+in charity with all the world. The Priest turned to the young Knight.
+"Sir bridegroom," said he, "I leave you alone with her whom I have
+made your wife. As far as I can discover, there is no evil, although
+much that is mysterious, in her. I exhort you to be sober, loving, and
+faithful." So he went out; and the old people followed; crossing
+themselves.
+
+Undine was still on her knees; she uncovered her face and looked
+timidly at Huldbrand, saying, "Ah, thou wilt surely cast me off now;
+and yet I have done nothing wrong, poor, poor child that I am!" This
+she said with so touching and gentle an expression, that her husband
+forgot all the gloom and mystery that had chilled his heart; he
+hastened toward, her and raised her in his arms. She smiled through
+her tears--it was like the glow of dawn shining upon a clear fountain.
+"Thou canst not forsake me!" whispered she, in accents of the firmest
+reliance; and she stroked his cheeks with her soft little hands. He
+tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts which still lurked in a corner
+of his mind, suggesting to him that he had married a fairy, or some
+shadowy being from the world of spirits: one question, however, he
+could not help asking: "My dear little Undine, just tell me one thing:
+what was that you said about spirits of earth, and Kühleborn, when the
+Priest knocked at the door?"--"All nonsense!" said Undine, laughing,
+with her usual gayety. "First I frightened you with it, and then you
+frightened me. And that is the end of the story, and of our
+wedding-day!"
+
+
+VIII.--THE DAY AFTER THE MARRIAGE
+
+A bright morning light wakened the young people; and Huldbrand lay
+musing silently. As often as he had dropped asleep, he had been scared
+by horrible dreams of spectres who suddenly took the form of fair
+women, or of fair women who were transformed into dragons. And when he
+started up from these grim visions, and saw the pale, cold moonlight
+streaming in at the window, he would turn an anxious look toward
+Undine; she lay slumbering in undisturbed beauty and peace. Then he
+would compose himself to sleep again--soon again to wake in terror.
+When he looked back upon all this in broad daylight, he was angry with
+himself for having let a suspicion, a shade of distrust of his
+beautiful wife, enter his mind. He frankly confessed to her this
+injustice; she answered him only by pressing his hand, and sighing
+from the bottom of her heart. But a look, such as her eyes had never
+before given, of the deepest and most confiding tenderness, left him
+no doubt that she forgave him. So he arose cheerfully, and joined the
+family in the sitting-room. The three others were gathered round the
+hearth looking uneasy, and neither of them having ventured to speak
+his thoughts yet. The Priest seemed to be secretly praying for
+deliverance from evil. But when the young husband appeared, beaming
+with happiness, the care-worn faces brightened up; nay, the Fisherman
+ventured upon a few courteous jokes with the Knight, which won a smile
+even from the good housewife. Meanwhile Undine had dressed herself,
+and now came in; they could not help rising to meet her, and stood
+still, astonished; the young creature was the same, yet so different.
+The Priest was the first to address her, with an air of paternal
+kindness, and when he raised his hands in benediction, the fair woman
+sank on her knees, trembling with pious awe. In a few meek and humble
+words, she begged him to forgive the folly of the day before, and
+besought him, with great emotion, to pray for the salvation of her
+soul. Then rising, she kissed her foster parents, and thanking them
+for all their kindness, she said: "Oh, now I feel from the bottom of
+my heart how much you have done for me, how deeply grateful I ought to
+be, dear, dear people!" She seemed as if she could not caress them
+enough; but soon, observing the dame glance toward the breakfast, she
+went toward the hearth, busied herself arranging and preparing the
+meal, and would not suffer the good woman to take the least trouble
+herself.
+
+So she went on all day; at once a young matron, and a bashful, tender,
+delicate bride. The three who knew her best were every moment
+expecting this mood to change, and give place to one of her crazy
+fits; but they watched in vain. There was still the same angelic
+mildness and sweetness. The Priest could not keep his eyes away from
+her, and he said more than once to the bridegroom, "Sir, it was a
+great treasure which Heaven bestowed upon you yesterday, by my poor
+ministration; cherish her worthily, and she will be to you a blessing
+in time and eternity."
+
+Toward evening, Undine clasped the Knight's arm with modest
+tenderness, and gently led him out before the door, where the rays of
+the setting sun were lighting up the fresh grass, and the tall, taper
+stems of trees. The young wife's face wore a melting expression of
+love and sadness, and her lips quivered with some anxious, momentous
+secret, which as yet betrayed itself only by scarce audible sighs. She
+silently led her companion onward; if he spoke, she replied by a look
+which gave him no direct answer, but revealed a whole heaven of love
+and timid submission. So they reached the banks of the stream which
+had overflowed, and the Knight started on finding the wild torrent
+changed into a gentle rippling brook, without a trace of its former
+violence left. "By to-morrow it will have dried up completely," said
+the bride, in a faltering voice, "and thou mayest begone whither thou
+wilt."--"Not without thee, my Undine," said the Knight, playfully;
+"consider, if I had a mind to forsake thee, the Church, the Emperor,
+and his ministers might step in, and bring thy truant home."--"No, no,
+you are free; it shall be as you please!" murmured Undine, half tears,
+half smiles. "But I think thou wilt not cast me away; is not my heart
+bound up in thine? Carry me over to that little island opposite. There
+I will know my fate. I could indeed easily step through the little
+waves; but I love to rest in thine arms! and thou _mayest_ cast me
+off; this may be the last time." Huldbrand, full of anxious emotion,
+knew not how to answer. He took her up in his arms, and carried her
+over, now recollecting that from this very island he had borne her
+home to the Fisherman, on the night of his arrival. When there, he
+placed his fair burden on the turf, and was going to sit down beside
+her; but she said, "No, sit there, opposite me--I will read my doom in
+your eyes, before your lips have spoken it. Now listen, and I will
+tell you all." And she began:--
+
+"You must know, my own love, that in each element exists a race of
+beings, whose form scarcely differs from yours, but who very seldom
+appear to mortal sight. In the flames, the wondrous Salamanders
+glitter and disport themselves; in the depths of earth dwell the dry,
+spiteful race of Gnomes; the forests are peopled by Wood-nymphs, who
+are also spirits of air; and the seas, the rivers and brooks contain
+the numberless tribes of Water-sprites. Their echoing halls of
+crystal, where the light of heaven pours in, with its sun and stars,
+are glorious to dwell in; the gardens contain beautiful coral plants,
+with blue and red fruits; they wander over bright sea-sands, and
+gay-coloured shells, among the hidden treasures of the old world, too
+precious to be bestowed on these latter days, and long since covered
+by the silver mantle of the deep: many a noble monument still gleams
+there below, bedewed by the tears of Ocean, who garlands it with
+flowery sea-weeds and wreaths of shells. Those that dwell there below,
+are noble and lovely to behold, far more so than mankind. Many a
+fisherman has had a passing glimpse of some fair water-nymph, rising
+out of the sea with her song; he would then spread the report of her
+apparition, and these wonderful beings came to be called _Undines_.
+And you now see before you, my love, an Undine."
+
+The Knight tried to persuade himself that his fair wife was in one of
+her wild moods, and had invented this strange tale in sport. But
+though he said this to himself, he could not for a moment believe it;
+a mysterious feeling thrilled him; and, unable to utter a word, he
+kept his eyes rivetted on the beautiful speaker. She shook her head
+sadly, heaved a deep sigh, and went on:--
+
+"We might be happier than our human fellow-creatures (for we call you
+fellow-creatures, as our forms are alike), but for one great evil. We,
+and the other children of the elements, go down to the dust, body and
+spirit; not a trace of us remains and when the time comes for you to
+rise again to a glorified existence, we shall have perished with our
+native sands, flames, winds, and waves. For we have no souls; the
+elements move us, obey us while we live, close over us when we die;
+and we light spirits live as free from care as the nightingale, the
+gold-fish, and all such bright children of Nature. But no creatures
+rest content in their appointed place. My father, who is a mighty
+prince in the Mediterranean Sea, determined that his only child should
+be endowed with a soul, even at the cost of much suffering, which is
+ever the lot of souls. But a soul can be infused into one of our race,
+only by being united in the closest bands of love to one of yours. And
+now I have obtained a soul; to thee I owe it, O best beloved! and for
+that gift I shall ever bless thee, unless thou dost devote my whole
+futurity to misery. For what is to become of me should thou recoil
+from me, and cast me off? Yet I would not detain thee by deceit. And
+if I am to leave thee, say so now; go back to the land alone. I will
+plunge into this brook; it is my uncle, who leads a wonderful,
+sequestered life in this forest, away from all his friends. But he is
+powerful, and allied to many great rivers; and as he brought me here
+to the Fisherman, a gay and laughing child, so he is ready to take me
+back to my parents, a loving, suffering, forsaken woman."
+
+She would have gone on; but Huldbrand, full of compassion and love,
+caught her in his arms, and carried her back. There, with tears and
+kisses, he swore never to forsake his beloved wife; and said he felt
+more blessed than the Greek sculptor Pygmalion, whose beautiful statue
+dame Venus transformed into a living woman. Hanging on his arm in
+peaceful reliance, Undine returned; and she felt from her inmost
+heart, how little cause she had to regret the crystal palaces of her
+father.
+
+
+IX.--HOW THE KNIGHT AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE DEPARTED
+
+When Huldbrand awoke from sleep the next morning, he missed his fair
+companion; and again he was tormented with a doubt, whether his
+marriage, and the lovely Undine, might not be all a fairy dream. But
+she soon reappeared, came up to him, and said, "I have been out early,
+to see if my uncle had kept his word. He has recalled all the straying
+waters into his quiet bed, and now takes his lonely and pensive course
+through the forest as he used to do. His friends in the lake and the
+air are gone to rest also; all things have returned to their usual
+calmness; and you may set out homeward on dry land, as soon as you
+please." Huldbrand felt as if dreaming still, so little could he
+understand his wife's wonderful relations. But he took no notice of
+this, and his sweet Undine's gentle attentions soon charmed every
+uneasy thought away.
+
+A little while after, as they stood at the door together, looking over
+the fair scene with its boundary of clear waters, his heart yearned so
+toward this cradle of his love that he said: "But why should we go
+away so soon? we shall never spend happier days in yonder world, than
+we have passed in this peaceful nook. Let us at least see two or three
+more suns go down here."--"As my Lord wishes," answered Undine, with
+cheerful submission; "but, you see, the old people will be grieved at
+parting with me, whenever it is; and if we give them time to become
+acquainted with my soul, and with its new powers of loving and
+honouring them, I fear that when I go, their aged hearts will break
+under the load of sorrow. As yet, they take my gentle mood for a
+passing whim, such as they saw me liable to formerly, like a calm on
+the lake when the winds are lulled; and they will soon begin to love
+some favourite tree or flower in my place. They must not learn to know
+this newly obtained, affectionate heart, in the first overflowings of
+its tenderness, just at the moment when they are to lose me for this
+world; and how could I disguise it from them, if we remained together
+longer?"
+
+Huldbrand agreed with her; he went to the old couple and finding them
+ready to consent, he resolved upon setting out that very hour. The
+Priest offered to accompany them; after a hasty farewell, the pretty
+bride was placed on the horse by her husband, and they crossed the
+stream's dry bed quickly, and entered the forest. Undine shed silent
+but bitter tears, while the old folks wailed after her aloud. It
+seemed as if some foreboding were crossing their minds, of how great
+their loss would prove.
+
+The three travellers reached the deepest shades of the forest, without
+breaking silence. It was a fair sight to behold, as they passed
+through the leafy bowers: the graceful woman sitting on her noble
+steed, guarded on one side by the venerable Priest in the white habit
+of his order; on the other, by the youthful Knight, with his gorgeous
+attire and glittering sword. Huldbrand had no eyes but for his
+precious wife; Undine, who had dried her duteous tears, no thought but
+for him; and they soon fell into a noiseless interchange of glances
+and signs, which at length was interrupted by the sound of a low
+murmur, proceeding from the Priest and a fourth fellow-traveller, who
+had joined them unobserved. He wore a white robe, very like the
+Priest's dress, except that the hood almost covered his face, and the
+rest of it floated round him in such large folds that he was
+perpetually obliged to gather up, throw it over his arm, or otherwise
+arrange it; yet it did not seem to impede him at all in walking; when
+the young people saw him he was saying, "And so, my worthy father, I
+have dwelt in the forest for many a year, yet I am not what you
+commonly call a hermit. For, as I told you, I know nothing of penance,
+nor do I think it would do me much good. What makes me so fond of the
+woods is, that I have a very particular fancy for winding through the
+dark shades and forest walks, with my loose white clothes floating
+about me; now and then a pretty sunbeam will glance over me as I
+go."--"You seem to be a very curious person," replied the Priest "and
+I should like to know more about you."--"And pray who are you, to
+carry on the acquaintance?" said the stranger. "They call me Father
+Heilmann," answered the Priest, "and I belong to St. Mary's
+monastery, beyond the lake."--"Ay, ay!" rejoined the other. "My name
+is Kühleborn, and if I stood upon ceremony, I might well call myself
+Lord of Kühleborn, or Baron (Freiherr) Kühleborn; for free I am, as
+the bird of the air, or a trifle more free. For instance, I must now
+have a word with the young woman there." And before they could look
+round, he was on the other side of the Priest, close to Undine, and
+stretching up his tall figure to whisper in her ear. But she turned
+hastily away, saying, "I have nothing more to do with you
+now."--"Heyday!" said the stranger, laughing, "what a prodigiously
+grand marriage yours must be, if you are to cast off your relations in
+this way! Have you forgotten Uncle Kühleborn, who brought you all the
+way here on his back so kindly?"
+
+"But I entreat you," said Undine, "never come to me again. I am afraid
+of you now; and will not my husband become afraid of me, if he finds I
+have so strange a family?"--"My little niece," said Kühleborn, "please
+to remember that I am protecting you all this time; the foul Spirits
+of Earth might play you troublesome tricks if I did not. So you had
+better let me go on with you, and no more words. The old Priest there
+has a better memory than yours, for he would have it he knew my face
+very well, and that I must have been with him in the boat, when he
+fell into the water. And he may well say so, seeing that the wave
+which washed him over was none but myself, and I landed him safe on
+the shore, in time for your wedding."
+
+Undine and the Knight looked at Father Heilmann, but he seemed to be
+plodding on in a waking dream, and not listening to what was said.
+Undine said to Kühleborn, "There, I can see the end of the wood; we
+want your help no longer, and there is nothing to disturb us but you.
+So in love and kindness I entreat you, begone, and let us go in
+peace." This seemed to make Kühleborn angry; he twisted his face
+hideously, and hissed at Undine, who cried aloud for help. Like
+lightning the Knight passed round her horse, and aimed a blow at
+Kühleborn's head with his sword. But instead of the head, he struck
+into a waterfall, which gushed down a high cliff near them, and now
+showered them all with a splash that sounded like laughter, and wetted
+them to the bone. The Priest, seeming to wake up, said, "Well, I was
+expecting this, because that brook gushed down the rock so close to
+us. At first I could not shake off the idea that it was a man, and was
+speaking to me." The waterfall whispered distinctly in Huldbrand's
+ear, "Rash youth, dashing youth, I chide thee not, I shame thee not;
+still shield thy precious wife safe and sure, rash young soldier,
+dashing Knight!"
+
+A little further on they emerged into the open plains. The city lay
+glittering before them, and the evening sun that gilded her towers,
+lent its grateful warmth to dry their soaked garments.
+
+
+X.--OF THEIR WAY OF LIFE IN THE TOWN
+
+The sudden disappearance of the young Knight Huldbrand of Ringstetten
+had made a great stir in the city, and distressed the inhabitants,
+with whom his gallantry in the lists and the dance, and his gentle,
+courteous manners, had made him very popular. His retainers would not
+leave the place without their master, but yet none had the courage to
+seek him in the haunted forest. They therefore remained in their
+hostelry, idly hoping, as men are so apt to do, and keeping alive the
+remembrance of their lost lord by lamentations. But soon after, when
+the tempest raged and the rivers overflowed, few doubted that the
+handsome stranger must have perished. Bertalda, among others, mourned
+him for lost, and was ready to curse herself, for having urged him to
+the fatal ride through the forest. Her ducal foster parents had
+arrived to take her away, but she prevailed upon them to wait a
+little, in hope that a true report of Huldbrand's death or safety
+might reach them. She tried to persuade some of the young knights who
+contended for her favour, to venture into the forest and seek for the
+noble adventurer. But she would not offer her hand as the reward,
+because she still hoped to bestow it some day on the wanderer himself;
+and to obtain a glove, a scarf, or some such token from her, none of
+them cared to expose his life to bring back so dangerous a rival.
+
+Now, when Huldbrand unexpectedly reappeared, it spread joy among his
+servants, and all the people generally, except Bertalda; for while the
+others were pleased at his bringing with him such a beautiful wife,
+and Father Heilmann to bear witness to their marriage, it could not
+but grieve _her_: first, because the young Knight had really won her
+heart; and next, because she had betrayed her feelings by so openly
+lamenting his absence, far more than was now becoming. However, she
+behaved like a prudent woman and suited her conduct to the
+circumstances, by living in the most cordial intimacy with Undine--who
+passed in the town for a princess, released by Huldbrand from the
+power of some wicked enchanter of the forest. If she or her husband
+were questioned about it, they gave evasive answers; Father Heilmann's
+lips were sealed on all such idle topics, beside which, he had left
+them soon after they arrived, and returned to his cloister: so the
+citizens were left to their own wondering conjectures, and even
+Bertalda came no nearer the truth than others.
+
+Meanwhile, Undine grew daily more fond of this winning damsel. "We
+must have known each other before," she would often say, "or else some
+secret attraction draws us toward each other; for without some cause,
+some strange, mysterious cause, I am sure nobody would love another as
+I have loved you from the moment we met." Bertalda, on her part, could
+not deny that she felt strongly inclined to like Undine,
+notwithstanding the grounds of complaint she thought she had against
+this happy rival. The affection being mutual, the one persuaded her
+parents, the other her wedded lord, to defer the day of departure
+repeatedly; they even went so far as to propose that Bertalda should
+accompany Undine to the castle of Ringstetten, near the source of the
+Danube.
+
+They were talking of this one fine evening, as they sauntered by
+starlight round the market-place, which was surrounded by high trees;
+the young couple had invited Bertalda to join their evening stroll,
+and they now paced backward and forward in pleasant talk, with the
+dark blue sky over their heads, and a beautiful fountain before them
+in the centre, which, as it bubbled and sprang up into fanciful
+shapes, often caught their attention, and interrupted the
+conversation. All around them was serene and pleasant; through the
+foliage gleamed the light of many a lamp from the surrounding houses;
+and the ear was soothed by the hum of children at play, and of
+sauntering groups like themselves; they enjoyed at once the pleasure
+of solitude, and the social happiness of being near the cheerful
+haunts of men. Every little difficulty that had occurred to their
+favourite plan, seemed to vanish upon nearer examination, and the
+three friends could not imagine that Bertalda's consent to the journey
+need be delayed a moment. But as she was on the point of naming a day
+for joining them and setting out, a very tall man came forward from
+the middle of the place, bowed to them respectfully, and began
+whispering in Undine's ear. She though apparently displeased with the
+interruption and with the speaker, stepped aside with him, and they
+began a low discourse together, in what sounded like a foreign
+language. Huldbrand thought he knew this strange man's face, and fixed
+his attention upon him so earnestly, that he neither heard nor
+answered the astonished Bertalda's questions. All at once Undine
+clapped her hands joyfully, and turned her back, laughing, upon the
+stranger; he shook his head and walked off in an angry, hurried
+manner, and stepped into the fountain. This confirmed Huldbrand in his
+guess; while Bertalda inquired, "My dear Undine, what business had
+that man of the fountain with you?" Her friend smiled archly and
+replied, "On your birthday, the day after to-morrow, I will tell you,
+my sweet girl;" and she would say no more. She only pressed Bertalda
+to come and dine with them on that day, and bring her foster parents;
+after which they separated.
+
+"Kühleborn?" said Huldbrand to his wife with a suppressed shudder, as
+they walked home through the dark streets. "Yes, it was he," replied
+Undine "and he tried to put all sorts of nonsense into my head.
+However, without intending it he delighted me by one piece of news. If
+you wish to hear it, now, my kind lord, you have but to say so, and I
+will tell you every word. But if you like to give your Undine a _very_
+great delight, you will wait two days, and then have your share in the
+surprise."
+
+The Knight readily granted her what she had asked so meekly and
+gracefully; and as she dropped asleep she murmured, "How it will
+delight her! how little she expects such a message from the mysterious
+man--dear, dear Bertalda!"
+
+
+XI.--BERTALDA'S BIRTHDAY
+
+The guests were now assembled at table; Bertalda sat at the top,
+adorned with flowers like the goddess of spring, and flashing with
+jewels, the gifts of many friends and relations. Undine and Huldbrand
+were on either side of her. When the sumptuous meal was ended, and the
+dessert served, the doors were opened--according to the good old
+German custom--to let the common people look in and have their share
+in the gaiety of the rich. The attendants offered wine and cake to the
+assembled crowd. Huldbrand and Bertalda were eagerly watching for the
+promised disclosure, and both kept their eyes fixed upon Undine. But
+she was still silent; her cheeks dimpled occasionally with a bright,
+conscious smile. Those that knew what she was about to do, could
+perceive that her interesting secret was ready to burst from her lips,
+but that she was playfully determined to keep it in, as children
+sometimes will save their daintiest morsels for the last. Her silent
+glee communicated itself to the other two, who watched impatiently for
+the happy news that was about to gladden their hearts. Some of the
+company now asked Undine for a song. She seemed to be prepared with
+one, and sent for her lute, to which she sang as follows:--
+
+The sun gilds the wave,
+  The flowers are sweet,
+And the ocean doth lave
+  The grass at our feet!
+
+What lies on the earth
+  So blooming and gay?
+Doth a blossom peep forth
+  And greet the new day?
+
+Ah, 'tis a fair child!
+  She sports with the flowers,
+So gladsome and mild,
+  Through the warm sunny hours
+
+O sweet one, who brought thee?
+  From far distant shore
+Old Ocean he caught thee,
+  And many a league bore.
+
+Poor babe, all in vain
+  Thou dost put forth thy hand
+None clasp it again,
+  'Tis a bleak foreign land:
+
+The flowers bloom brightly,
+  And soft breathes the air,
+But all pass thee lightly:
+  Thy mother is far!
+
+Thy life scarce begun,
+  Thy smiles fresh from heaven,
+Thy best treasure is gone,
+  To another 'tis given.
+
+A gallant charger treads the dell,
+  His noble rider pities thee;
+He takes thee home, he tends thee well,
+  And cares for thee right gen'rously.
+
+Well thou becom'st thy station high,
+  And bloom'st the fairest in the land;
+And yet, alas! the purest joy
+  Is left on thine own distant strand.
+
+Undine put down her lute with a melancholy smile and the eyes of the
+Duke and Duchess filled with tears: "So it was when I found you, my
+poor innocent orphan!" said the Duke with great emotion "as the fair
+singer said, your best treasure was gone and we have been unable to
+supply its place."
+
+"Now let us think of the poor parents," said Undine and she struck
+the chords and sang:--
+
+               I
+
+Mother roves from room to room
+  Seeking rest, she knows not how,
+The house is silent as the tomb,
+  And who is there to bless her now?
+
+              II
+
+Silent house! Oh words of sorrow!
+  Where is now her darling child?
+She who should have cheered the morrow,
+  And the evening hours beguiled?
+
+              III
+
+The buds are swelling on the tree,
+  The sun returns when night is o'er;
+But, mother, ne'er comes joy to thee,
+  Thy child shall bless thine eyes no more.
+
+              IV
+
+And when the evening breezes blow,
+  And father seeks his own fireside,
+He smiles, forgetful of his woe,
+  But ah! his tears that smile shall hide.
+
+               V
+
+Father knows that in his home
+  Deathlike stillness dwells for aye;
+The voice of mirth no more shall come,
+  And mother sighs the livelong day.
+
+"O Undine, for God's sake, where are my parents?" cried Bertalda,
+weeping. "Surely you know, you have discovered it, most wonderful
+woman; else how could you have stirred my inmost heart as you have
+done? They are perhaps even now in the room--can it be?"--and her eyes
+glanced over the gay assembly, and fixed upon a reigning Princess who
+sat next to the Duke. But Undine bent forward to the door, her eyes
+overflowing with the happiest tears. "Where are they, the poor anxious
+parents?" said she; and the old Fisherman and his wife came out from
+the crowd of bystanders. They turned an inquiring eye upon Undine, and
+then upon the handsome lady whom they were to call daughter. "There
+she is," faltered the delighted Undine, and the aged couple caught
+their long-lost child in their arms, thanking God, and weeping aloud.
+
+Affrighted and enraged, Bertalda shrank from their embrace. It was
+more than her proud spirit could bear, to be thus degraded; at a
+moment, too, when she was fully expecting an increase of splendour,
+and fancy was showering pearls and diadems upon her head. She
+suspected that her rival had contrived this, on purpose to mortify her
+before Huldbrand and all the world. She reviled both Undine and the
+old people; the hateful words, "Treacherous creature! and bribed
+wretches!" burst from her lips. The old woman said in a half whisper,
+"Dear me, she has grown up a wicked woman; and yet my heart tells me
+she is my own child." The Fisherman has clasped his hands, and was
+praying silently that this girl might not prove to be theirs indeed.
+Undine, pale as death, looked from Bertalda to the parents, from the
+parents to Bertalda, and could not recover the rude shock she had
+sustained, at being plunged from all her happy dreams into a state of
+fear and misery, such as she had never known before.
+
+"Have you a soul? Have you indeed a soul, Bertalda?" she exclaimed
+once or twice, trying to recall her angry friend to reason, from what
+she took for a fit of madness, or a kind of nightmare. But Bertalda
+only stormed the louder; the repulsed parents wailed piteously, and
+the company began to dispute angrily and to side with one or the
+other; when Undine stepped forward, and asked with so much earnest
+gentleness to be listened to in her husband's house that all was
+hushed in a moment. She took the place which Bertalda had left, at
+the head of the table, and as she stood there in modest dignity, the
+eyes of all turned toward her, and she said: "You all that cast such
+angry looks at each other, and so cruelly spoil the joy of my poor
+feast, alas! I little knew what your foolish angry passions were, and
+I think I never shall understand you. What I had hoped would do so
+much good has led to all this; but that is not my fault, it is your
+own doing, believe me; I have little more to say, but one thing you
+must hear: I have told no falsehood. Proofs I have none to give,
+beyond my word, but I will swear to the truth of it. I heard it from
+him who decoyed Bertalda from her parents into the water, and then
+laid her down in the meadow where the Duke was to pass."
+
+"She is a sorceress," cried Bertalda, "a witch who has dealings with
+evil spirits! she has acknowledged it."
+
+"I have not," said Undine, with a heaven of innocence and
+guilelessness in her eyes. "Nor am I a witch--only look at me!"
+
+"Then she lies," cried Bertalda, "and she dares not assert that I was
+born of these mean people. My noble parents, I beseech you take me out
+of this room, and this town, where they are leagued together to insult
+me."
+
+But the venerable Duke stood still, and his lady said, "We must first
+sift this matter to the bottom. Nothing shall make me leave the room
+till my doubts are satisfied."
+
+Then the old woman came up, made a deep obeisance to the Duchess, and
+said, "You give me courage to speak, my noble, worthy lady. I must
+tell you, that if this ungodly young woman is my daughter, I shall
+know her by a violet mark between her shoulders, and another on the
+left instep. If she would but come with me into another room--"
+
+"I will not uncover myself before that country-woman," said Bertalda,
+proudly turning away.
+
+"But before me, you will," rejoined the Duchess gravely. "You shall go
+with me into that room, young woman, and the good dame will accompany
+us." They withdrew together, leaving the party in silent suspense. In
+a few minutes they came back; Bertalda was deadly pale, and the
+Duchess said, "Truth is truth, and I am bound to declare that our Lady
+Hostess has told us perfectly right. Bertalda is the Fisherman's
+daughter; more than that, it concerns nobody to know." And the
+princely pair departed, taking with them their adopted child, and
+followed (upon a sign from the Duke) by the Fisherman and his wife.
+The rest of the assembly broke up, in silence or with secret murmurs,
+and Undine sank into Huldbrand's arms, weeping bitterly.
+
+
+XII.--HOW THEY LEFT THE IMPERIAL CITY
+
+There was certainly much to displease the Lord of Ringstetten in the
+events of this day; yet he could not look back upon them, without
+feeling proud of the guileless truth and the generosity of heart shown
+by his lovely wife. "If indeed her soul was my gift," thought he, "it
+is nevertheless much better than my own;" and he devoted himself to
+the task of soothing her grief, and determined he would take her away
+the next morning from a spot now so full of bitter recollections.
+
+They were mistaken, however, in thinking that she had lost in the eyes
+of the world by this adventure. So prepared were the minds of the
+people to find something mysterious in her, that her strange discovery
+of Bertalda's origin scarcely surprised them; while, on the other
+hand, everyone that heard of Bertalda's history and of her passionate
+behaviour, was moved with indignation. Of this, the Knight and Undine
+were not aware; nor would it have given them any comfort, for she was
+still as jealous of Bertalda's good name as of her own. Upon the
+whole, they had no greater wish than to leave the town without delay.
+
+At daybreak next morning, Undine's chariot was in readiness at the
+door, and the steeds of Huldbrand and of his squires stood around it,
+pawing the ground with impatience. As the Knight led his fair bride to
+the door, a fishing girl accosted them. "We want no fish," said
+Huldbrand; "we are just going away." The girl began to sob bitterly,
+and they then recognised her as Bertalda. They immediately turned back
+into the house with her; and she said that the Duke and Duchess had
+been so incensed at her violence the day before, as to withdraw their
+protection from her, though not without giving her a handsome
+allowance. The Fisherman too had received a liberal gift, and had
+departed that evening with his wife, to return to the promontory. "I
+would have gone with them," she continued, "but the old Fisherman,
+whom they call my father--"
+
+"And so he is, Bertalda," interrupted Undine. "He is your father. For
+the man you saw at the fountain told me how it is. He was trying to
+persuade me that I had better not take you to Ringstetten, and he let
+drop the secret."
+
+"Well then," said Bertalda, "my father--if so it must be--my father
+said, 'You shall not live with us till you are an altered creature.
+Take courage and come across the haunted forest to us; that will show
+that you sincerely wish to belong to your parents. But do not come in
+your finery; be like what you are, a fisherman's daughter.' And I will
+do as he bids me; for the whole world has forsaken me, and I have
+nothing left, but to live and die humbly in a poor hut, alone with my
+lowly parents. I do dread the forest very much. They say it is full of
+grim spectres, and I am so timid! But what can I do? I came here only
+to implore the Lady of Ringstetten's pardon for my rude language
+yesterday. I have no doubt you meant what you did kindly, noble Dame;
+but you little knew what a trial your words would be to me, and I was
+so alarmed and bewildered, that many a hasty, wicked word escaped my
+lips. Ah forgive me, forgive me! I am unhappy enough already. Only
+consider what I was yesterday morning, even at the beginning of your
+feast, and what I am now."
+
+Her words were lost in a flood of bitter tears, and Undine, equally
+affected, fell weeping on her neck. It was long before her emotion
+would let her speak: at length she said, "You shall go to Ringstetten
+with us; all shall be as we had settled it before; only call me Undine
+again, and not 'Lady' and 'noble Dame.' You see, we began by being
+exchanged in our cradles; our lives have been linked from that hour,
+and we will try to bind them so closely that no human power shall
+sever us. Come with us to Ringstetten, and all will be well. We will
+live like sisters there, trust me for arranging that." Bertalda looked
+timidly at Huldbrand. The sight of this beautiful, forsaken maiden
+affected him; he gave her his hand and encouraged her kindly to trust
+herself to him and his wife. "As to your parents," said he, "we will
+let them know why you do not appear;" and he would have said much more
+concerning the good old folks, but he observed that Bertalda shuddered
+at the mention of them, and therefore dropped the subject. He gave her
+his arm, placed first her and then Undine in the carriage, and rode
+cheerfully after them; he urged the drivers on so effectually, that
+they very soon found themselves out of sight of the city, and beyond
+the reach of sad recollections--and the two ladies could fully enjoy
+the beautiful country through which the road wound along.
+
+After a few days' travelling, they arrived, one sunny evening, at the
+Castle of Ringstetten. Its young lord had much business with his
+steward and labourers to occupy him, so that Undine was left alone
+with Bertalda. They took a walk on the high ramparts of the castle,
+and admired the rich Swabian landscape, which lay far and wide around
+them. A tall man suddenly came up, with a courteous obeisance; and
+Bertalda could not help thinking him very like the ominous man of the
+fountain. The likeness struck her still more, when, upon an impatient
+and even menacing gesture of Undine's, he went away with the same
+hasty step and shake of the head as before.
+
+"Do not be afraid, dear Bertalda," said Undine, "the ugly man shall
+not harm you this time." After which she told her whole history,
+beginning from her birth, and how they had been exchanged in their
+earliest childhood. At first her friend looked at her with serious
+alarm; she thought Undine was possessed by some delirium. But she
+became convinced it was all true, as she listened to the
+well-connected narrative, which accounted so well for the strange
+events of the last months; besides which, there is something in
+genuine truth which finds an answer in every heart, and can hardly be
+mistaken. She was bewildered, when she found herself one of the actors
+in a living fairy tale, and as wild a tale as any she had read. She
+gazed upon Undine with reverence; but could not help feeling a chill
+thrown over her affection for her; and that evening at supper time,
+she wondered at the Knight's fond love and familiarity toward a being,
+whom she now looked upon as rather a spirit than a human creature.
+
+
+XIII.--HOW THEY LIVED IN THE CASTLE OF RINGSTETTEN
+
+As he who relates this tale is moved to the heart by it, and hopes
+that it may affect his readers too, he entreats of them one favour;
+namely, that they will bear with him while he passes rapidly over a
+long space of time; and be content if he barely touches upon what
+happened therein. He knows well that some would relate in great
+detail, step by step, how Huldbrand's heart began to be estranged from
+Undine, and drawn toward Bertalda; while she cared not to disguise
+from him her ardent love; and how between them the poor injured wife
+came to be rather feared than pitied--and when he showed her kindness,
+a cold shiver would often creep over him and send him back to the
+child of earth, Bertalda;--all this the author knows, might be dwelt
+upon; nay, perhaps it ought to be so. But his heart shrinks from such
+a task, for he has met with such passages in real life, and cannot
+even abide their shadows in his memory. Perhaps, gentle reader, such
+feelings are known to thee also, for they are the common lot of mortal
+man. Well is thee if thou hast felt, not inflicted, these pangs; in
+these cases it is more blessed to receive than to give. As such
+recollections wake up from their cells, they will but cast a soft
+shade over the past; and it may be the thought of thy withered
+blossoms, once so fondly loved, brings a gentle tear down thy cheek.
+Enough of this: we will not go on to pierce our hearts with a thousand
+separate arrows, but content ourselves with saying, that so it
+happened in the present instance.
+
+Poor Undine drooped day by day, and the others were neither of them
+happy; Bertalda especially was uneasy, and ready to suspect the
+injured wife, whenever she fancied herself slighted by Huldbrand;
+meantime she had gradually assumed the command in the house, and the
+deluded Huldbrand supported her openly. Undine looked on, in meek
+resignation. To increase the discomfort of their lives, there was no
+end to the mysterious sights and sounds that haunted Huldbrand and
+Bertalda in the vaulted galleries of the castle; such as had never
+been heard of before. The long white man, too well known to him as
+Uncle Kühleborn, and to her as the spirit of the fountain, often
+showed his threatening countenance to both; but chiefly to Bertalda,
+who had more than once been made ill by the fright, and thought
+seriously of leaving the castle. But her love for Huldbrand detained
+her, and she quieted her conscience by thinking, that it had never
+come to a declaration of love between them; and, besides, she would
+not have known which way to turn. After receiving the Lord of
+Ringstetten's message, that Bertalda was with them, the old Fisherman
+had traced a few lines, scarcely legible, from infirmity and long
+disuse, saying, "I am now a poor old widower; for my dear good wife is
+dead. But, lonely as I am by my fireside, I had rather Bertalda stayed
+away than come here. Provided she does not harm my dear Undine! My
+curse be upon her if she does." Bertalda scattered these last words to
+the winds, but treasured up her father's command that she should not
+join him: as is the way with us selfish beings.
+
+One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, Undine sent for her
+servants and desired them to fetch a large stone and carefully to stop
+up the mouth of the magnificent fountain, which played in the centre
+of the court. The men objected, that they must then always go down the
+valley to a great distance for water. Undine smiled mournfully. "It
+grieves me to add to your burdens, my good friends," said she, "I had
+rather go and fill my pitcher myself; but this fountain must be
+sealed up. Trust me, nothing else will do, and it is our only way of
+escaping a much worse evil."
+
+The servants rejoiced at any opportunity of pleasing their gentle
+mistress; not a word more was said, and they lifted the huge stone.
+They had raised it, and were about to let it down on the mouth of the
+spring, when Bertalda ran up, calling out to them to stop: the water
+of this fountain was the best for her complexion, and she never would
+consent to its being stopped. But Undine, instead of yielding as
+usual, kept firmly, though gently, to her resolution; she said that it
+behooved her, as mistress of the house, to order all such matters as
+appeared best to her, and none but her lord and husband should call
+her to account. "Look, oh look!" cried Bertalda, eagerly and angrily,
+"how the poor bright water curls and writhes, because you would
+deprive it of every gleam of sunshine, and of the cheerful faces of
+men, whose mirror it was created to be!" In truth, the spring did
+writhe and bubble up wonderfully, just as if someone were trying to
+force his way through; but Undine pressed them the more to dispatch
+the work. Nor was there much need to repeat her commands. The
+household people were too glad at once to obey their gentle lady, and
+to mortify the pride of Bertalda, in spite of whose threats and wrath,
+the stone was soon firmly fastened down on the mouth of the spring.
+Undine bent over it thoughtfully, and wrote on its surface with her
+delicate fingers. Something very hard and sharp must have been hidden
+in her hand; for when she walked away, and the others came up, they
+found all manner of strange characters on the stone, none of which
+were there before.
+
+When the Knight came home that evening, Bertalda received him with
+tears and complaints of Undine. He looked sternly at his poor wife,
+who mournfully cast down her eyes, saying, however, with firmness, "My
+lord and husband would not chide the meanest of his vassals, without
+giving him a hearing, much less his wedded wife."--"Speak, then; what
+was your reason for this strange proceeding?" said the Knight with a
+frown. "I would rather tell it you quite alone!" sighed Undine. "You
+can say it just as well in Bertalda's presence," replied he. "Yes, if
+thou requirest it," said Undine, "but require it not." She looked so
+humble, and so submissive in her touching beauty, that the Knight's
+heart was melted, as by a sunbeam from happier days. He took her
+affectionately by the hand, and led her to his own room, where she
+spoke to him as follows.
+
+"You know that wicked Uncle Kühleborn, my dearest lord, and have often
+been provoked at meeting him about the castle. Bertalda, too, has been
+often terrified by him. No wonder; he is soulless, shallow, and
+unthinking as a mirror, in whom no feeling can pierce the surface. He
+has two or three times seen that you were displeased with me, that I
+in my childishness could not help weeping, and that Bertalda might
+chance to laugh at the same moment. And upon this he builds all manner
+of unjust suspicions, and interferes, unasked, in our concerns. What
+is the use of my reproaching him, or repulsing him with angry words?
+He believes nothing that I say. A poor cold life is his! How should he
+know, that the sorrows and the joys of love are so sweetly alike, so
+closely linked, that it is not in human power to part them. When a
+tear gushes out, a smile lies beneath; and a smile will draw the tears
+from their secret cells."
+
+She smiled through her tears in Huldbrand's face, and a warm ray of
+his former love shot through his heart. She perceived this, pressed
+closer to him, and with a few tears of joy she went on.
+
+"As I found it impossible to get rid of our tormentor by words, I had
+nothing for it, but to shut the door against him. And his only access
+to us was that fountain. He has quarrelled with the other fountain
+spirits in the surrounding valleys, and it is much lower down the
+Danube, below the junction of some friends with the great river, that
+his power begins again. Therefore I stopped the mouth of our fountain,
+and inscribed the stone with characters which cripple the might of my
+restless uncle; so that he can no longer cross your path, or mine, or
+Bertalda's. Men can indeed lift the stone off as easily as ever; the
+inscription has no power over them. So you are free to comply with
+Bertalda's wish; but indeed, she little knows what she asks. Against
+her the wild Kühleborn has a most particular spite, and if some of his
+forebodings were to come true, (as they might, without her intending
+any harm) O, dearest, even thou wert not free from danger!"
+
+Huldbrand deeply felt the generosity of his noble-minded wife, in so
+zealously shutting out her formidable protector, even when reviled by
+Bertalda for so doing. He clasped her fondly in his arms, and said
+with much emotion, "The stone shall remain; and everything shall be
+done as thou wishest, now and hereafter, my sweetest Undine."
+
+Scarce could she trust these words of love, after so dreary an
+estrangement; she returned his caresses with joyful but timid
+gratitude, and at length said, "My own dear love, as you are so
+exceedingly kind to me to-day, may I ask you to promise one thing?
+Herein you are like the summer: is he not most glorious when he decks
+his brows with thunders, and frowns upon us from his throne of clouds?
+So it is when your eyes flash lightning; it becomes you well,
+although in my weakness I may often shed a tear at it. Only--if you
+would promise to refrain from it when we are sailing, or even near any
+water. For there, you see, my relations have a right to control me.
+They might relentlessly tear me from you in their wrath, fancying that
+there is an insult offered to one of their race; and I should be
+doomed to spend the rest of my life in the crystal palaces below,
+without ever coming to you; or if they did send me up again--oh
+Heaven, that would be far worse! No, no, my best beloved; you will not
+let it come to that, if you love your poor Undine."
+
+He solemnly promised to do as she asked him, and they returned to the
+saloon, quite restored to comfort and peace. They met Bertalda,
+followed by a few labourers whom she had sent for, and she said in a
+tone of bitterness that had grown common with her of late, "So, now
+your private consultation is over, and we may have the stone taken up.
+Make haste, you people, and do it for me." But Huldbrand, incensed at
+her arrogance, said shortly and decidedly, "The stone shall not be
+touched," and he then reproved Bertalda for her rudeness to his wife;
+upon which the labourers walked off, exulting secretly, while Bertalda
+hurried away to her chamber, pale and disturbed.
+
+The hour of supper came, and they waited in vain for Bertalda. A
+message was sent to her; the servants found her room empty, and
+brought back only a sealed letter directed to the Knight. He opened it
+with trepidation and read, "I feel with shame that I am only a
+fisherman's daughter. Having forgotten it a moment, I will expiate my
+crime in the wretched hut of my parents. Live happy with your
+beautiful wife!"
+
+Undine was sincerely grieved; she entreated Huldbrand to pursue their
+friend at once, and bring her back with him. Alas! there was little
+need of entreaty. His passion for Bertalda returned with fresh
+violence; he searched the castle all over, asking everyone if they
+could tell him in what direction the fair one had fled. He could
+discover nothing; and now he had mounted his horse in the court, and
+stood ready to set forth, and try the route by which he had brought
+Bertalda to the castle. A peasant boy just then came up, saying that
+he had met the lady riding toward the Black Valley. Like a shot the
+Knight darted through the gate, and took that direction, without
+heeding Undine's anxious cries from a window: "To the Black Valley?
+oh, not there! Huldbrand, not there! Or take me with you for God's
+sake!" Finding it vain to cry, she had her white palfrey saddled in
+all haste, and galloped after her husband, without allowing anyone to
+attend her.
+
+
+XIV.--HOW BERTALDA DROVE HOME WITH THE KNIGHT
+
+The Black Valley lay among the deepest recesses of the mountains. What
+it is called now none can tell. In those times it bore that name among
+the countrymen, on account of the deep gloom shed over it by many high
+trees, mostly pines. Even the brook which gushed down between the
+cliffs was tinged with black, and never sparkled like the merry
+streams from which nothing intercepts the blue of heaven. Now, in the
+dusk of twilight, it looked darker still as it gurgled between the
+rocks. The Knight spurred his horse along its banks, now fearing to
+lose ground in his pursuit, and now again, that he might overlook the
+fugitive in her hiding-place, if he hurried past too swiftly. He
+presently found himself far advanced in the valley, and hoped he must
+soon overtake her, if he were but in the right track. Then again, the
+thought that it might be a wrong one roused the keenest anxiety in
+his breast. Where was the tender Bertalda to lay her head, if he
+missed her in this bleak, stormy night, which was setting in, black
+and awful, upon the valley? And now he saw something white gleaming
+through the boughs, on the slope of the mountain; he took it for
+Bertalda's robe and made for it. But the horse started back, and
+reared so obstinately that Huldbrand, impatient of delay, and having
+already found him difficult to manage among the brambles of the
+thicket, dismounted, and fastened the foaming steed to a tree; he then
+felt his way through the bushes on foot. The boughs splashed his head
+and cheeks roughly with cold wet dew; far off, he heard the growl of
+thunder beyond the mountains, and the whole strange scene had such an
+effect upon him, that he became afraid of approaching the white
+figure, which he now saw lying on the ground at a short distance. And
+yet he could distinguish it to be a woman, dressed in long white
+garments like Bertalda's, asleep or in a swoon. He came close to her,
+made the boughs rustle, and his sword ring--but she stirred not.
+"Bertalda!" cried he; first gently, then louder and louder--in vain.
+When at length he shouted the beloved name with the whole strength of
+his lungs, a faint mocking echo returned it from the cavities of the
+rocks--"Bertalda!" but the sleeper awoke not. He bent over her; but
+the gloom of the valley and the shades of night prevented his
+discerning her features. At length, though kept back by some boding
+fears, he knelt down by her on the earth, and just then a flash of
+lightning lighted up the valley. He saw a hideous distorted face close
+to his own, and heard a hollow voice say, "Give me a kiss, thou sweet
+shepherd!" With a cry of horror Huldbrand started up, and the monster
+after him. "Go home!" it cried, "the bad spirits are abroad--go home!
+or I have you!" and its long white arm nearly grasped him. "Spiteful
+Kühleborn," cried the Knight, taking courage, "what matters it, I know
+thee, foul spirit! There is a kiss for thee!" And he raised his sword
+furiously against the figure. But it dissolved, and a drenching shower
+made it sufficiently clear to the Knight what enemy he had
+encountered. "He would scare me away from Bertalda," said he aloud to
+himself; "he thinks he can subdue me by his absurd tricks, and make me
+leave the poor terrified maiden in his power, that he may wreak his
+vengeance upon her. But _that_ he never shall--wretched goblin! What
+power lies in a human breast when steeled by firm resolve, the
+contemptible juggler has yet to learn." And he felt the truth of his
+own words, and seemed to have nerved himself afresh by them. He
+thought, too, that fortune now began to aid him, for before he had got
+back to his horse again, he distinctly heard the piteous voice of
+Bertalda as if near at hand, borne toward him on the winds as their
+howling mingled with the thunder. Eagerly did he push on in that
+direction, and he found the trembling damsel was just attempting to
+climb the mountain's side, in order, at any risk, to get out of these
+awful shades.
+
+He met her affectionately and however proudly she might before have
+determined to hold out, she could not but rejoice at being rescued by
+her much-loved Huldbrand from the fearful solitude, and warmly invited
+to return to his cheerful home in the castle. She accompanied him with
+scarcely a word of reluctance, but was so exhausted, that the Knight
+felt much relieved when they had reached the horse in safety; he
+hastened to loose him, and would have placed his tender charge upon
+him, and walked by her side to guide her carefully through the
+dangerous shades. But Kühleborn's mad pranks had driven the horse
+quite wild. Hardly could the Knight himself have sprung upon the
+terrified plunging creature's back: to place the trembling Bertalda
+upon him was quite impossible; so they made up their minds to walk
+home. With his horse's bridle over one arm, Huldbrand supported his
+half-fainting companion on the other. Bertalda mustered what strength
+she could, in order the sooner to get beyond this dreaded valley, but
+fatigue weighed her down like lead, and every limb shook under her;
+partly from the recollection of all she had already suffered from
+Kühleborn's spite, and partly from terror at the continued crashing of
+the tempest through the mountain forests.
+
+At length she slid down from her protector's arm, and sinking on the
+moss, she said: "Leave me to die here, noble Huldbrand; I reap the
+punishment of my folly, and must sink under this load of fatigue and
+anguish."--"Never, my precious friend, never will I forsake you,"
+cried Huldbrand, vainly striving to curb his raging steed, who was now
+beginning to start and plunge worse than ever: the Knight contrived to
+keep him at some distance from the exhausted maiden, so as to save her
+the terror of seeing him near her. But no sooner had he withdrawn
+himself and the wild animal a few steps, than she began to call him
+back in the most piteous manner, thinking he was indeed going to
+desert her in this horrible wilderness. He was quite at a loss what to
+do: gladly would he have let the horse gallop away in the darkness and
+expend his wild fury, but that he feared he might rush down upon the
+very spot where Bertalda lay.
+
+In this extremity of distress, it gave him unspeakable comfort to
+descry a wagon slowly descending the stony road behind him. He called
+out for help: a man's voice replied telling him to have patience, but
+promising to come to his aid; soon two white horses became visible
+through the thicket, and next the white smock-frock of the wagoner,
+and a large sheet of white linen that covered his goods inside. "Ho,
+stop!" cried the man, and the obedient horses stood still. "I see well
+enough," said he, "what ails the beast. When first I came through
+these parts my horses were just as troublesome; because there is a
+wicked water-sprite living hard by, who takes delight in making them
+play tricks. But I know a charm for this; if you will give me leave to
+whisper it in your horse's ear, you will see him as quiet as mine
+yonder in a moment."--"Try your charm, if it will do any good!" said
+the impatient Knight. The driver pulled the unruly horse's head toward
+him, and whispered a couple of words in his ear. At once the animal
+stood still, tamed and pacified, and showed no remains of his former
+fury but by panting and snorting, as if he still chafed inwardly. This
+was no time for Huldbrand to inquire how it had been done. He agreed
+with the wagoner that Bertalda should be taken into the wagon, which
+by his account was loaded with bales of soft cotton, and conveyed to
+the Castle of Ringstetten, while the Knight followed on horseback. But
+his horse seemed too much spent by his former violence to be able to
+carry his master so far, and the man persuaded Huldbrand to get into
+the wagon with Bertalda. The horse was to be fastened behind. "We
+shall go down hill," said the man, "and that is light work for my
+horses." The Knight placed himself by Bertalda, his horse quietly
+followed them, and the driver walked by steadily and carefully.
+
+In the deep stillness of night, while the storm growled more and more
+distant, and in the consciousness of safety and easy progress,
+Huldbrand and Bertalda insensibly got into confidential discourse. He
+tenderly reproached her for having so hastily fled; she excused
+herself with bashful emotions, and through all she said it appeared
+most clearly that her heart was all his own. Huldbrand was too much
+engrossed by the expression of her words to attend to their apparent
+meaning, and he only replied to the former. Upon this, the wagoner
+cried out in a voice that rent the air, "Now my horses, up with you;
+show us what you are made of, my fine fellows." The Knight put out his
+head and saw the horses treading or rather swimming through the
+foaming waters, while the wheels whirled loudly and rapidly like those
+of a water-mill, and the wagoner was standing upon the top of his
+wagon, overlooking the floods. "Why, what road is this? It will take
+us into the middle of the stream," cried Huldbrand. "No, sir," cried
+the driver laughing; "it is just the other way. The stream is coming
+into the middle of the road. Look round, and see how it is all
+flooded."
+
+In fact, the whole valley was now heaving with waves, that had swollen
+rapidly to a great height. "This must be Kühleborn, the wicked sprite,
+trying to drown us!" cried the Knight. "Have you no charm to keep him
+off, friend?"--"I do know of one," said the driver, "but I can't and
+won't make use of it, till you know who I am."--"Is this a time for
+riddles?" shouted the Knight; "the flood is rising every moment, and
+what care I to know who you are?"--"It rather concerns you, however,
+to know," said the driver, "for I am Kühleborn." And he grinned
+hideously into the wagon--which was now a wagon no longer, nor were
+the horses horses; but all dissolved into foaming waves; the wagoner
+himself shot up into a giant Waterspout, bore down the struggling
+horse into the flood, and, towering over the heads of the hapless
+pair, till he had swelled into a watery fountain, he would have
+swallowed them up the next moment.
+
+But now the sweet voice of Undine was heard above the wild uproar;
+the moon shone out between the clouds, and at the same instant Undine
+came into sight, upon the high grounds above them. She addressed
+Kühleborn in a commanding tone, the huge wave laid itself down,
+muttering and murmuring; the waters rippled gently away in the moon's
+soft light, and Undine alighted like a white dove from her airy
+height, and led them to a soft green spot on the hillside, where she
+refreshed their jaded spirits with choice food. She then helped
+Bertalda to mount her own white palfrey, and at length they all three
+reached the Castle of Ringstetten in safety.
+
+
+XV.--THE TRIP TO VIENNA
+
+For some time after this adventure they led a quiet and peaceful life
+in the castle. The Knight was deeply touched by his wife's angelic
+goodness, so signally displayed by her pursuing and saving them in the
+Black Valley, where their lives were threatened by Kühleborn. Undine
+herself was happy in the peace of an approving conscience; besides
+that, many a gleam of hope now brightened her path, as her husband's
+love and confidence seemed to revive; Bertalda meanwhile was grateful,
+modest, and timid, without claiming any merit for being so. If either
+of her companions alluded to the sealing up of the fountain, or the
+adventures in the Black Valley, she would implore them to spare her on
+those subjects, because she could not think of the fountain without a
+blush, nor the valley without a shudder. She was therefore told
+nothing further; indeed, what would have been the use of enlightening
+her? Nothing could add to the peace and happiness which had taken up
+their abode in the Castle of Ringstetten; they enjoyed the present in
+full security, and the future lay before them, all blooming with fair
+fruits and flowers.
+
+The winter had gone by without any interruption to their social
+comfort; and spring, with her young green shoots and bright blue
+skies, began to smile upon men; their hearts felt light, like the
+young season, and from its returning birds of passage, they caught a
+fancy to travel. One day as they were walking together near the
+sources of the Danube, Huldbrand fell into talk about the glories of
+that noble river, how proudly he flowed on, through fruitful lands, to
+the spot where the majestic city of Vienna crowned his banks, and how
+every mile of his course was marked by fresh grandeur and beauty. "How
+delightful it would be to follow his course down to Vienna!" cried
+Bertalda; but instantly relapsing into her timid, chastened manner,
+she blushed and was silent. This touched Undine, and in her eagerness
+to give her friend pleasure, she said: "And why should we not take the
+trip?" Bertalda jumped for joy, and their fancy began to paint this
+pleasant recreation in the brightest colours. Huldbrand encouraged
+them cheerfully, but whispered once to Undine: "But, should not we get
+within Kühleborn's power again, down there?"--"Let him come," said
+she, laughing; "I shall be with you, and in my presence he durst not
+attempt any mischief."
+
+So the only possible objection seemed removed and they prepared for
+departure, and were soon sailing along, full of spirit and of gay
+hopes. But, O Man! it is not for thee to wonder when the course of
+events differs widely from the paintings of thy fancy. The treacherous
+foe, that lures us to our ruin, lulls his victim to rest with sweet
+music and golden dreams. Our guardian angel, on the contrary, will
+often rouse us by a sharp and awakening blow.
+
+The first days they spent on the Danube were days of extraordinary
+enjoyment. The further they floated down the proud stream the nobler
+and fairer grew the prospect. But, just as they had reached a most
+lovely district, the first sight of which had promised them great
+delight, the unruly Kühleborn began openly to give signs of his
+presence and power. At first they were only sportive tricks, because,
+whenever he ruffled the stream and raised the wind, Undine repressed
+him by a word or two, and made him again subside at once; but his
+attempts soon began again, and again, Undine was obliged to warn him
+off; so that the pleasure of the little party was grievously
+disturbed. To make things worse, the watermen would mutter many a dark
+surmise into each other's ears, and cast strange looks at the three
+gentlefolks, whose very servants began to feel suspicion, and to show
+distrust of their lord. Huldbrand said to himself more than once,
+"This comes of uniting with other than one's like: a son of earth may
+not marry a wondrous maid of ocean." To justify himself (as we all
+love to do) he would add, "But I did not know she was a maid of ocean.
+If I am to be pursued and fettered wherever I go by the mad freaks of
+her relations, mine is the misfortune, not the fault." Such
+reflections somewhat checked his self-reproaches; but they made him
+the more disposed to accuse, nay, even to hate Undine. Already he
+began to scowl upon her, and the poor wife understood but too well his
+meaning. Exhausted by this, and by her constant exertions against
+Kühleborn, she sank back one evening in the boat, and was lulled by
+its gentle motion into a deep sleep.
+
+But no sooner were her eyes closed, than everyone in the boat thought
+he saw, just opposite his own eyes, a terrific human head rising above
+the water; not like the head of a swimmer, but planted upright on the
+surface of the river, and keeping pace with the boat. Each turned to
+his neighbour to show him the cause of his terror, and found him
+looking equally frightened, but pointing in a different direction,
+where the half-laughing, half-scowling goblin met his eyes. When at
+length they tried to explain the matter to each other, crying out,
+"Look there; no, there!" each of them suddenly perceived the other's
+phantom, and the water round the boat appeared all alive with ghastly
+monsters. The cry which burst from every mouth awakened Undine. Before
+the light of her beaming eyes the horde of misshapen faces vanished.
+But Huldbrand was quite exasperated by these fiendish tricks and would
+have burst into loud imprecations, had not Undine whispered in the
+most beseeching manner, "For God's sake, my own lord, be patient now;
+remember we are on the water." The Knight kept down his anger, and
+soon sank into thought. Presently Undine whispered to him: "My love,
+had not we better give up the foolish journey, and go home to
+Ringstetten in comfort?" But Huldbrand muttered angrily, "Then I am to
+be kept a prisoner in my own castle? and even there I may not breathe
+freely unless the fountain is sealed up? Would to Heaven the absurd
+connection"--But Undine pressed her soft hand gently upon his lips.
+And he held his peace, and mused upon all she had previously told him.
+
+In the meantime, Bertalda had yielded herself up to many and strange
+reflections. She knew something of Undine's origin, but not all! and
+Kühleborn in particular was only a fearful but vague image in her
+mind; she had not even once heard his name. And as she pondered these
+wonderful subjects, she half unconsciously took off a golden necklace
+which Huldbrand had bought for her of a travelling jeweller a few days
+before; she held it close to the surface of the river playing with
+it, and dreamily watching the golden gleam that it shed on the glassy
+water. Suddenly a large hand came up out of the Danube, snatched the
+necklace, and ducked under with it. Bertalda screamed aloud, and was
+answered by a laugh of scorn from the depths below. And now the Knight
+could contain himself no longer. Starting up, he gave loose to his
+fury, loading with imprecations those who chose to break into his
+family and private life, and challenging them--were they goblins or
+sirens--to meet his good sword. Bertalda continued to weep over the
+loss of her beloved jewel, and her tears were as oil to the flames of
+his wrath, while Undine kept her hand dipped into the water with a
+ceaseless low murmur, only once or twice interrupting her mysterious
+whispers to say to her husband in tones of entreaty, "Dearest love,
+speak not roughly to me here; say whatever you will, only spare me
+here; you know why!" and he still restrained his tongue (which
+stammered with passion) from saying a word directly against her. She
+soon drew her hand from under the water, bringing up a beautiful coral
+necklace whose glitter dazzled them all. "Take it," said she, offering
+it kindly to Bertalda; "I have sent for this, instead of the one you
+lost; do not grieve any more, my poor child." But Huldbrand darted
+forward, snatched the shining gift from Undine's hand, hurled it again
+into the water, and roared furiously, "So you still have intercourse
+with them? In the name of sorcery, go back to them with all your
+baubles, and leave us men in peace, witch as you are!" With eyes
+aghast, yet streaming with tears, poor Undine gazed at him, still
+holding out the hand which had so lovingly presented to Bertalda the
+bright jewel. Then she wept more and more, like a sorely injured,
+innocent child. And at length she said faintly, "Farewell, my dearest;
+farewell! They shall not lay a finger on thee; only be true to me,
+that I may still guard thee from them. But I, alas! I must be gone;
+all this bright morning of life is over. Woe, woe is me! what hast
+thou done? woe, woe!" And she slipped out of the boat and passed away.
+Whether she went down into the river, or flowed away with it, none
+could tell; it was like both and yet like neither. She soon mingled
+with the waters of the Danube, and nothing was to be heard but the
+sobbing whispers of the stream as it washed against the boat, seeming
+to say distinctly, "Woe, woe! Oh be true to me! woe, woe!"
+
+Huldbrand lay flat in the boat, drowned in tears, till a deep swoon
+came to the unhappy man's relief, and steeped him in oblivion.
+
+
+XVI.--OF WHAT BEFELL HULDBRAND AFTERWARDS
+
+Shall we say, Alas, or thank God, that our grief is so often
+transient? I speak of such grief as has its source in the wellsprings
+of life itself, and seems so identified with our lost friend, as
+almost to fill up the void he has left; and his hallowed image seems
+fixed within the sanctuary of our soul, until the signal of our
+release comes, and sets us free to join him! In truth, a good man will
+not suffer this sanctuary to be disturbed; yet even with him, it is
+not the first, the all-engrossing sorrow which abides. New objects
+will intermingle, and we are compelled to draw from our grief itself a
+fresh proof of the perishableness of earthly things: alas, then, that
+our grief is transient!
+
+So it was with the Lord of Ringstetten; whether for his weal or woe,
+the sequel of this story will show us. At first, he could do nothing
+but weep abundantly, as his poor kind Undine had wept when he snatched
+from her the beautiful gift, which she thought would have comforted
+and pleased them so much. He would then stretch out his hand as she
+had done, and burst into tears afresh, like her. He secretly hoped
+that he might end by altogether dissolving in tears: and are there not
+many whose minds have been visited by the same painfully pleasing
+thought, at some season of great sorrow? Bertalda wept with him, and
+they lived quietly together at Ringstetten a long while, cherishing
+the memory of Undine, and seeming to have forgotten their own previous
+attachment. Moreover, the gentle Undine often appeared to Huldbrand in
+his dreams; she would caress him meekly and fondly, and depart again
+with tearful resignation, so that when he awoke, he doubted whose
+tears they were that bedewed his face--were they hers, or only his
+own?
+
+But as time went on these visions became less frequent, and the
+Knight's grief milder; still he might perhaps have spent the rest of
+his days contentedly, devoting himself to the memory of Undine, and
+keeping it alive by talking of her, had not the old Fisherman
+unexpectedly made his appearance, and laid his serious commands upon
+Bertalda, his daughter, to return home with him. The news of Undine's
+disappearance had reached him, and he would no longer suffer Bertalda
+to remain in the castle alone with its lord. "I do not ask whether my
+daughter cares for me or not," said he; "her character is at stake,
+and where that is the case, nothing else is worth considering."
+
+This summons from the old man, and the prospect of utter loneliness
+amid the halls and long galleries of the castle after Bertalda's
+departure, revived in Huldbrand's heart the feeling that had lain
+dormant, and as it were buried under his mourning for Undine, namely,
+his love for the fair Bertalda. The Fisherman had many objections to
+their marriage; Undine had been very dear to the old man and he
+thought it hardly certain yet that his lost darling was really dead.
+But, if her corpse were indeed lying stiff and cold in the bed of the
+Danube, or floating down its stream to the distant ocean, then
+Bertalda ought to reproach herself for her death, and it ill became
+her to take the place of her poor victim. However, the Fisherman was
+very fond of Huldbrand also; the entreaties of his daughter, who was
+now grown much more gentle and submissive, had their effect, and it
+seems that he did yield his consent at last; for he remained peaceably
+at the castle, and an express was sent for Father Heilmann, who in
+earlier, happier days had blessed Undine's and Huldbrand's union, that
+he might officiate at the Knight's second marriage.
+
+No sooner had the holy man read the Lord of Ringstetten's letter than
+he set forth on his way thither, with far greater speed than the
+messenger had used to reach him. If his straining haste took away his
+breath, or he felt his aged limbs ache with fatigue, he would say to
+himself: "I may be in time to prevent a wicked deed; sink not till
+thou hast reached the goal, my withered frame!" And so he exerted
+himself afresh, and pushed on, without flagging or halting, till late
+one evening he entered the shady court of Ringstetten.
+
+The lovers were sitting hand in hand under a tree, with the thoughtful
+old man near them; as soon as they saw Father Heilmann, they rose
+eagerly and advanced to meet him. But he, scarcely noticing their
+civilities, begged the Knight to come with him into the castle. As he
+stared at this request, and hesitated to comply, the pious old Priest
+said, "Why, indeed, should I speak to you alone, my Lord of
+Ringstetten? What I have to say equally concerns the Fisherman and
+Bertalda; and as they must sooner or later know it, it had better be
+said now. How can you be certain, Lord Huldbrand, that your own wife
+is indeed dead? For myself, I can hardly think so. I will not venture
+to speak of things relating to her wondrous nature; in truth I have
+no clear knowledge about it. But a godly and faithful wife she proved
+herself, beyond all about. And these fourteen nights has she come to
+my bedside in dreams, wringing her poor hands in anguish, and sighing
+out, 'Oh stop him, dear father! I am yet alive! Oh save his life! Oh
+save his soul!' I understood not the meaning of the vision till your
+messenger came; and I have now hastened hither, not to join but to
+part those hands, which may not be united in holy wedlock. Part from
+her, Huldbrand! Part from him, Bertalda! He belongs to another; see
+you not how his cheek turns pale at the thought of his departed wife?
+Those are not the looks of a bridegroom, and the spirit tells me this.
+If thou leavest him not now, there is joy for thee no more." They all
+three felt at the bottom of their hearts that Father Heilmann's words
+were true but they would not yield to them. Even the old Fisherman was
+so blinded as to think that what had been settled between them for so
+many days, could not now be relinquished. So they resisted the
+Priest's warnings, and urged the fulfilment of their wishes with
+headlong, gloomy determination, till Father Heilmann departed with a
+melancholy shake of the head, without accepting even for one night
+their proffered hospitalities, or tasting any of the refreshments they
+set before him. But Huldbrand persuaded himself that the old Priest
+was a weak dotard; and early next morning he sent to a monk from the
+nearest cloister, who readily promised to come and marry them in a few
+days.
+
+
+XVII.--THE KNIGHT'S DREAM
+
+The morning twilight was beginning to dawn, and the Knight lay
+half-awake on his couch. Whenever he dropped asleep he was scared by
+mysterious terrors, and started up as if sleep were peopled by
+phantoms. If he woke up in earnest, he felt himself fanned all around
+by what seemed like swans' wings, and soothed by watery airs, which
+lulled him back again into the half-unconscious, twilight state. At
+length he did fall asleep and fancied himself lifted by swans on their
+soft wings, and carried far away over lands and seas, all to the sound
+of their sweetest melody. "Swans singing! swans singing!" thought he
+continually; "is not that the strain of Death?" Presently he found
+himself hovering above a vast sea. A swan warbled in his ear that it
+was the Mediterranean; and as he looked down into the deep it became
+like clear crystal, transparent to the bottom. This rejoiced him much,
+for he could see Undine sitting in a brilliant hall of crystal.
+
+She was shedding tears, indeed, and looked sadly changed since the
+happy times which they had spent together at Ringstetten; happiest at
+first, but happy also a short time since, just before the fatal sail
+on the Danube. The contrast struck Huldbrand deeply; but Undine did
+not seem to be aware of his presence. Kühleborn soon came up to her,
+and began rating her for weeping. She composed herself, and looked at
+him with a firmness and dignity, before which he almost quailed.
+"Though I am condemned to live under these deep waters," said she, "I
+have brought my soul with me; therefore my tears cannot be understood
+by thee. But to me they are blessings, like everything that belongs to
+a loving soul." He shook his head incredulously, and said, after a
+pause: "Nevertheless, niece, you are still subject to the laws of our
+element; and you know you must execute sentence of death upon him as
+soon as he marries again, and breaks faith with you."--"To this hour
+he is a widower," said Undine, "and loves and mourns me truly."--"Ah,
+but he will be bridegroom soon," said Kühleborn with a sneer; "wait a
+couple of days only; and the marriage blessing will have been given,
+and you must go up and put the criminal to death."--"I cannot!"
+answered the smiling Undine. "I have had the fountain sealed up,
+against myself and my whole race." "But suppose he leaves his castle,"
+said Kühleborn, "or forgets himself so far as to let them set the
+fountain 'free,' for he thinks mighty little of those matters."--"And
+that is why," said Undine, still smiling through her tears, "that is
+why his spirit hovers at this moment over the Mediterranean, and
+listens to our conversation as in a dream. I have contrived it on
+purpose, that he may take warning." On hearing this Kühleborn looked
+up angrily at the Knight, scowled at him, stamped, and then shot
+upward through the waves like an arrow. His fury seemed to make him
+expand into a whale. Again the swans began to warble, to wave their
+wings, and to fly; the Knight felt himself borne high over alps and
+rivers, till he was deposited in the Castle of Ringstetten, and awoke
+in his bed.
+
+He did awake in his bed, just as one of his squires entered the room,
+and told him that Father Heilmann was still lingering near the castle;
+for he had found him the evening before in the forest, living in a
+shed he had made for himself with branches and moss. On being asked
+what he was staying for since he had refused to bless the betrothed
+couple? He answered, "It is not the wedded only who stand in need of
+prayer, and though I came not for the bridal, there may yet be work
+for me of another kind. We must be prepared for everything. Sometimes
+marriage and mourning are not so far apart; and he who does not
+wilfully close his eyes may perceive it." The Knight built all manner
+of strange conjectures upon these words, and upon his dream. But if
+once a man has formed a settled purpose, it is hard indeed to shake
+it. The end of this was, that their plans remained unchanged.
+
+
+XVIII.--OF THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND'S SECOND BRIDAL
+
+Were I to tell you how the wedding-day at Ringstetten passed, you
+might imagine yourself contemplating a glittering heap of gay objects,
+with a black crape thrown over them, through which the splendid
+pageant, instead of delighting the eye, would look like a mockery of
+all earthly joys. Not that the festive meeting was disturbed by any
+spectral apparitions: we have seen that the castle was safe from any
+intrusion of the malicious water-sprites. But the Knight, the
+Fisherman, and all the guests were haunted by a feeling that the chief
+person, the soul of the feast, was missing; and who was she but the
+gentle, beloved Undine? As often as they heard a door open, every eye
+turned involuntarily toward it, and when nothing ensued but the
+entrance of the steward with some more dishes, or of the cupbearer
+with a fresh supply of rich wine, the guests would look sad and blank,
+and the sparks of gayety kindled by the light jest or the cheerful
+discourse, were quenched in the damp of melancholy recollections. The
+bride was the most thoughtless, and consequently the most cheerful
+person present; but even she, at moments, felt it unnatural to be
+sitting at the head of the table, decked out in her wreath of green
+and her embroidery of gold, while Undine's corpse was lying cold and
+stiff in the bed of the Danube, or floating down its stream to the
+ocean. For, ever since her father had used these words, they had been
+ringing in her ears, and to-day especially they pursued her without
+ceasing.
+
+The party broke up before night had closed in; not, as usual,
+dispersed by the eager impatience of the bridegroom to be alone with
+his bride; but dropping off listlessly, as a general gloom spread over
+the assembly; Bertalda was followed to her dressing-room by her women
+only, and the Knight by his pages. At this gloomy feast, there was no
+question of the gay and sportive train of bridesmaids and young men,
+who usually attend the wedded pair.
+
+Bertalda tried to call up brighter thoughts; she bade her women
+display before her a splendid set of jewels, the gift of Huldbrand,
+together with her richest robes and veils, that she might select the
+gayest and handsomest dress for the morrow. Her maids seized the
+opportunity of wishing their young mistress all manner of joy, nor did
+they fail to extol the beauty of the bride to the skies. Bertalda,
+however, glanced at herself in the glass, and sighed: "Ah, but look at
+the freckles just here, on my throat!" They looked and found it was
+indeed so, but called them beauty spots that would only enhance the
+fairness of her delicate skin. Bertalda shook her head, and replied,
+"Still it is a blemish, and I once might have cured it!" said she with
+a deep sigh. "But the fountain in the court is stopped up--that
+fountain which used to supply me with precious, beautifying water. If
+I could but get one jugful to-day!"--"Is that all?" cried an
+obsequious attendant, and slipped out of the room. "Why, she will not
+be so mad," asked Bertalda in a tone of complacent surprise, "as to
+make them raise the stone this very night?" And now she heard men's
+footsteps crossing the court; and on looking down from her window, she
+saw the officious handmaid conducting them straight to the fountain;
+they carried levers and other tools upon their shoulders. "Well, it
+is my will to be sure," said Bertalda, smiling, "provided they are not
+too long about it." And, elated by the thought that a hint from her
+could now effect what had once been denied to her entreaties, she
+watched the progress of the work in the moonlit court below.
+
+The men began straining themselves to lift the huge stone;
+occasionally a sigh was heard, as someone recollected that they were
+now reversing their dear lady's commands. But the task proved lighter
+than they had expected. Some power from beneath seemed to second their
+efforts, and help the stone upward. "Why!" said the astonished workmen
+to each other, "it feels as if the spring below had turned into a
+waterspout." More and more did the stone heave, till, without any
+impulse from the men it rolled heavily along the pavement with a
+hollow sound. But, from the mouth of the spring arose, slowly and
+solemnly, what looked like a column of water; at first they thought
+so, but presently saw that it was no waterspout, but the figure of a
+pale woman, veiled in white. She was weeping abundantly, wringing her
+hands and clasping them over her head, while she proceeded with slow
+and measured step toward the castle. The crowd of servants fell back
+from the spot; while, pale and aghast, the bride and her women looked
+on from the window.
+
+When the figure had arrived just under that window, she raised her
+tearful face for a moment, and Bertalda thought she recognised
+Undine's pale features through the veil. The shadowy form moved on
+slowly and reluctantly, like one sent to execution. Bertalda screamed
+out that the Knight must be called; no one durst stir a foot, and the
+bride herself kept silence, frightened at the sound of her own voice.
+
+While these remained at the window, as if rooted to the spot, the
+mysterious visitor had entered the castle, and passed up the
+well-known stairs, and through the familiar rooms, still weeping
+silently. Alas! how differently had she trodden those floors in days
+gone by!
+
+The Knight had now dismissed his train; half-undressed, and in a
+dejected mood, he was standing near a large mirror, by the light of a
+dim taper. He heard the door tapped by a soft, soft touch. It was thus
+Undine had been wont to knock, when she meant to steal upon him
+playfully. "It is all fancy!" thought he. "The bridal bed awaits
+me."--"Yes, but it is a cold one," said a weeping voice from without;
+and the mirror then showed him the door opening slowly, and the white
+form coming in, and closing the door gently behind her. "They have
+opened the mouth of the spring," murmured she; "and now I am come, and
+now must thou die." His beating heart told him this was indeed true;
+but he pressed his hands over his eyes, and said: "Do not bewilder me
+with terror in my last moments. If thy veil conceals the features of a
+spectre, hide them from me still, and let me die in peace."--"Alas!"
+rejoined the forlorn one, "wilt thou not look upon me once again? I am
+fair, as when thou didst woo me on the promontory."--"Oh, could that
+be true!" sighed Huldbrand, "and if I might die in thy embrace!"--"Be
+it so, my dearest," said she. And she raised her veil, and the
+heavenly radiance of her sweet countenance beamed upon him.
+
+Trembling, at once with love and awe, the Knight approached her; she
+received him with a tender embrace; but instead of relaxing her hold,
+she pressed him more closely to her heart, and wept as if her soul
+would pour itself out. Drowned in her tears and his own, Huldbrand
+felt his heart sink within him, and at last he fell lifeless from the
+fond arms of Undine upon his pillow.
+
+"I have wept him to death!" said she to the pages, whom she passed in
+the ante-chamber; and she glided slowly through the crowd, and went
+back to the fountain.
+
+
+XIX.--HOW THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND WAS INTERRED
+
+Father Heilmann had returned to the castle, as soon as he heard of the
+Lord of Ringstetten's death, and he appeared there just after the
+monk, who had married the hapless pair, had fled full of alarm and
+horror. "It is well," answered Heilmann, when told this: "now is the
+time for my office; I want no assistant." He addressed spiritual
+exhortations to the widowed bride, but little impression could be made
+on so worldly and thoughtless a mind. The old Fisherman, although
+grieved to the heart, resigned himself more readily to the awful
+dispensation; and when Bertalda kept calling Undine a witch and a
+murderer, the old man calmly answered: "The stroke could not be turned
+away. For my part, I see only the hand of God therein; and none
+grieved more deeply over Huldbrand's sentence, than she who was doomed
+to inflict it, the poor forsaken Undine!" And he helped to arrange the
+funeral ceremonies in a manner suitable to the high rank of the dead.
+He was to be buried in a neighbouring hamlet, whose churchyard
+contained the graves of all his ancestors, and which he had himself
+enriched with many noble gifts. His helmet and coat of arms lay upon
+the coffin, about to be lowered into earth with his mortal remains;
+for Lord Huldbrand of Ringstetten was the last of his race.
+
+The mourners began their dismal procession, and the sound of their
+solemn dirge rose into the calm blue depths of heaven. Heilmann walked
+first, bearing on high a crucifix, and the bereaved Bertalda followed
+leaning on her aged father. Suddenly, amid the crowd of mourners who
+composed the widow's train, appeared a snow-white figure, deeply
+veiled, with hands uplifted in an attitude of intense grief. Those
+that stood near her felt a shudder creep over them; they shrank back,
+and thus increased the alarm of those whom the stranger next
+approached, so that confusion gradually spread itself through the
+whole train. Here and there was to be found a soldier bold enough to
+address the figure, and attempt to drive her away; but she always
+eluded their grasp, and the next moment reappeared among the rest,
+moving along with slow and solemn step. At length, when the attendants
+had all fallen back, she found herself close behind Bertalda, and now
+slackened her pace to the very slowest measure, so that the widow was
+not aware of her presence. No one disturbed her again, while she
+meekly and reverently glided on behind her.
+
+So they advanced till they reached the churchyard, when the whole
+procession formed a circle round the open grave. Bertalda then
+discovered the unbidden guest, and half-angry, half-frightened, she
+forbade her to come near the Knight's resting-place. But the veiled
+form gently shook her head, and extended her hands in humble entreaty;
+this gesture reminded Bertalda of poor Undine, when she gave her the
+coral necklace on the Danube, and she could not but weep. Father
+Heilmann enjoined silence; for they had begun to heap earth over the
+grave, and were about to offer up solemn prayers around it. Bertalda
+knelt down in silence, and all her followers did the same. When they
+rose, lo, the white form had vanished! and on the spot where she had
+knelt, a bright silvery brook now gushed out of the turf, and flowed
+round the Knight's tomb, till it had almost wholly encircled it; then
+it ran further on, and emptied itself into a shady pool which bounded
+one side of the churchyard. From that time forth, the villagers are
+said to have shown travellers this clear spring, and they still
+believe it to be the poor forsaken Undine, who continues thus to twine
+her arms round her beloved lord.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE STORY OF RUTH
+
+
+It came to pass, in the days when the judges ruled, that there was a
+famine in the land. And a certain man of Bethlehem-judah went to
+sojourn in the country of Moab--he and his wife and his two sons. And
+the name of the man was Elimelech, and the name of his wife Naomi, and
+the names of his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, Ephrathites of
+Bethlehem-judah. And they came into the country of Moab, and continued
+there.
+
+And Elimelech, Naomi's husband, died; and she was left and her two
+sons. And they took them wives of the women of Moab: the name of the
+one was Orpah, and the name of the other was Ruth. And they dwelled
+there about ten years.
+
+And Mahlon and Chilion died also, both of them; and the woman was left
+of her two sons and her husband. Then she arose with her
+daughters-in-law, that she might return from the country of Moab; for
+she had heard in the country of Moab how that the Lord had visited his
+people in giving them bread. Wherefore she went forth out of the place
+where she was, and her two daughters-in-law with her; and they went on
+the way to return unto the land of Judah.
+
+And Naomi said unto her two daughters-in-law, "Go, return each to her
+mother's house. The Lord deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with
+the dead and with me. The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each
+of you in this house of her husband." Then she kissed them.
+
+And they lifted up their voice and wept; and they said unto her,
+"Surely, we will return with thee unto thy people."
+
+And Naomi said, "Turn again, my daughters; why will ye go with me?
+Turn again, my daughters, go your way."
+
+And they lifted up their voice and wept again. And Orpah kissed her
+mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her.
+
+And she said, "Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people
+and unto her gods! Return thou after thy sister-in-law."
+
+And Ruth said, "Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from
+following after thee. For whither thou goest I will go, and where thou
+lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
+God: where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord
+do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."
+
+When Naomi saw that Ruth was steadfastly minded to go with her, then
+she left speaking unto her. So they two went until they came to
+Bethlehem.
+
+And it came to pass, when they were come to Bethlehem, that all the
+city was moved about them, and they said, "Is this Naomi?"
+
+And she said unto them, "Call me not Naomi [pleasant], call me Mara
+[bitter]; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went
+out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty. Why then call
+ye me Naomi, seeing that the Lord hath testified against me, and the
+Almighty hath afflicted me?"
+
+So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter-in-law, with
+her, which returned out of the country of Moab; and they came to
+Bethlehem in the beginning of barley-harvest.
+
+And Naomi had a kinsman of her husband's, a mighty man of wealth, of
+the family of Elimelech, and his name was Boaz.
+
+And Ruth said unto Naomi: "Let me now go to the field and glean ears
+of corn after him in whose sight I shall find grace."
+
+And Naomi said unto her, "Go, my daughter."
+
+And she went, and came, and gleaned in the field after the reapers;
+and her hap was to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz,
+who was of the kindred of Elimelech.
+
+And, behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem and said unto the reapers, "The
+Lord be with you!"
+
+And they answered him, "The Lord bless thee!"
+
+Then said Boaz unto his servant that was set over the reapers, "Whose
+damsel is this?"
+
+And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, "It
+is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country
+of Moab. And she said, 'I pray you, let me glean and gather after the
+reapers among the sheaves.' So she came, and hath continued even from
+the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house."
+
+Then said Boaz unto Ruth, "Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to
+glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by
+my maidens; let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go
+thou after them. Have I not charged the young men that they shall not
+touch thee? And when thou art a thirst, go unto the vessels, and drink
+of that which the young men have drawn."
+
+Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground, and said
+unto him, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest
+take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?"
+
+And Boaz answered and said unto her, "It hath fully been showed me,
+all that thou hast done unto thy mother-in-law, since the death of
+thine husband; and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother and
+the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou
+knewest not heretofore. The Lord recompense thy work, and a full
+reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou
+art come to trust."
+
+Then she said, "Let me find favour in thy sight, my lord; for that
+thou hast comforted me, and for that thou hast spoken friendly unto
+thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens."
+
+And Boaz said unto her at meal-time, "Come thou hither, and eat of the
+bread and dip thy morsel in the vinegar."
+
+And she sat beside the reapers, and he reached her parched corn; and
+she did eat, and was sufficed, and left.
+
+And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men,
+saying, "Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not;
+and let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her, and leave
+them that she may glean them, and rebuke her not."
+
+So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had
+gleaned, and it was about an ephah of barley. And she took it up and
+went into the city; and her mother-in-law saw what she had gleaned,
+and she brought forth and gave to her that she had reserved after she
+was sufficed.
+
+And her mother-in-law said unto her, "Where hast thou gleaned to-day,
+and where wroughtest thou? Blessed be he that did take knowledge of
+thee!"
+
+And she showed her mother-in-law with whom she had wrought, and said,
+"The man's name with whom I wrought to-day is Boaz."
+
+And Naomi said unto her daughter-in-law, "Blessed be he of the Lord,
+who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead. The
+man is near of kin unto us; one of our next kinsmen."
+
+And Ruth the Moabitess said, "He said unto me also, 'Thou shalt keep
+fast by my young men until they have ended all my harvest.'"
+
+And Naomi said unto Ruth her daughter-in-law, "It is good, my
+daughter, that thou go out with his maidens, that they meet thee not
+in any other field."
+
+So she kept fast by the maidens of Boaz to glean unto the end of
+barley-harvest and of wheat-harvest, and dwelt with her mother-in-law.
+
+Then Naomi her mother-in-law said unto her, "My daughter, shall I not
+seek rest for thee, that it may be well with thee? And now is not Boaz
+of our kindred, with whose maidens thou wast? Behold, he winnoweth
+barley to-night in the threshing-floor. Wash thyself, therefore, and
+anoint thee, and put thy raiment upon thee, and get thee down to the
+floor; but make not thyself known unto the man, until he shall have
+done eating and drinking. And it shall be, when he lieth down, that
+thou shalt mark the place where he shall lie; and thou shalt go in and
+uncover his feet and lay thee down; and he will tell thee what thou
+shalt do."
+
+And Ruth said unto her, "All that thou sayest unto me I will do." And
+she went down unto the floor, and did according to all that her
+mother-in-law bade her.
+
+And when Boaz had eaten and drunk, and his heart was merry, he went to
+lie down at the end of the heap of corn. And she came softly and
+uncovered his feet, and laid her down.
+
+And it came to pass at midnight, that the man was afraid, and turned
+himself; and behold! a woman lay at his feet. And he said, "Who art
+thou?"
+
+And she answered, "I am Ruth, thine handmaid. Spread therefore thy
+skirt over thine handmaid; for thou art a near kinsman."
+
+And he said, "Blessed be thou of the Lord, my daughter; for thou hast
+showed more kindness in the latter end than in the beginning; inasmuch
+as thou followedst not young men, whether poor or rich. And now, my
+daughter, fear not; I will do to thee all that thou requirest; for all
+the city of my people doth know that thou art a virtuous woman. And
+now it is true that I am thy near kinsman; howbeit, there is a kinsman
+nearer than I. Tarry this night, and it shall be, in the morning, that
+if he will perform unto thee the part of a kinsman, well; let him do
+the kinsman's part; but if he will not do the part of a kinsman to
+thee, then will I do the part of a kinsman to thee, as the Lord
+liveth. Lie down until the morning."
+
+And she lay at his feet until the morning. And she rose up before one
+could know another.
+
+And he said, "Let it not be known that a woman came into the floor."
+Also he said, "Bring the veil that thou hast upon thee and hold it."
+
+And when she held it he measured six measures of barley and laid it on
+her.
+
+And she went into the city, and when she came to her mother-in-law she
+said, "Who art thou, my daughter?"
+
+And she told her all that the man had done to her; and she said,
+"These six measures of barley gave he me; for he said to me, 'Go not
+empty unto thy mother-in-law.'"
+
+Then Naomi said, "Sit still, my daughter, until thou know how the
+matter will fall; for the man will not be in rest until he have
+finished the thing this day."
+
+Then went Boaz up to the gate, and sat him down there. And, behold,
+the kinsman of whom Boaz spake came by, unto whom he said, "Ho, such a
+one! turn aside, sit down here."
+
+And he turned aside, and sat down.
+
+And Boaz took ten men of the elders of the city, and said, "Sit ye
+down here."
+
+And they sat down.
+
+And he said unto the kinsman, "Naomi, that is come again out of the
+country of Moab, selleth a parcel of land which was our brother
+Elimelech's; and I thought to advertise thee, saying, 'Buy it before
+the inhabitants, and before the elders of my people. If thou wilt
+redeem it, redeem it; but if thou wilt not redeem it, then tell me,
+that I may know; for there is none to redeem it beside thee, and I am
+after thee.'"
+
+And he said, "I will redeem it."
+
+Then said Boaz, "What day thou buyest the field of the hand of Naomi,
+thou must buy it also of Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of the dead, to
+raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance."
+
+And the kinsman said, "I cannot redeem it for myself, lest I mar mine
+own inheritance. Redeem thou my right to thyself; for I cannot redeem
+it."
+
+Now this was the manner in former time in Israel, concerning redeeming
+and concerning changing, for to confirm all things: a man plucked off
+his shoe, and gave it to his neighbour; and this was a testimony in
+Israel. Therefore the kinsman said unto Boaz:
+
+"Buy it for thee." So he drew off his shoe.
+
+And Boaz said unto the elders and unto all the people, "Ye are
+witnesses this day, that I have bought all that was Elimelech's, and
+all that was Chilion's and Mahlon's at the hand of Naomi. Moreover,
+Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of Mahlon, have I purchased to be my
+wife, to raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance, that the
+name of the dead be not cut off from among his brethren, and from the
+gate of his place: ye are witnesses this day."
+
+And all the people that were in the gate, and the elders, said: "We
+are witnesses. The Lord make the woman that is come into thine house
+like Rachel and like Leah, which two did build the house of Israel;
+and do thou worthily in Ephratah, and be famous in Bethlehem; and let
+thy house be like the house of Pharez, whom Tamar bare unto Judah, of
+the seed which the Lord shall give thee of this young woman."
+
+So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his wife.
+
+And Ruth bare a son. And the women said unto Naomi, "Blessed be the
+Lord, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that his
+name may be famous in Israel. And he shall be unto thee a restorer of
+thy life, and a nourisher of thine old age; for thy daughter-in-law,
+which loveth thee, which is better to thee than seven sons, hath borne
+him."
+
+And Naomi took the child, and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse
+unto it. And the women, her neighbours, gave it a name, saying, "There
+is a son born to Naomi"! and they called his name Obed.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE GREAT STONE FACE
+
+
+One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little
+boy sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone
+Face. They had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be
+seen, though miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its
+features.
+
+And what was the Great Stone Face?
+
+Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so
+spacious that It contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these
+good people dwelt in log-huts, with the black forest all around them,
+on the steep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in
+comfortable farmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle
+slopes or level surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were
+congregated into populous villages, where some wild, highland rivulet,
+tumbling down from its birthplace in the upper mountain region, had
+been caught and tamed by human cunning, and compelled to turn the
+machinery of cotton-factories. The inhabitants of this valley, in
+short, were numerous, and of many modes of life. But all of them,
+grown people and children, had a kind of familiarity with the Great
+Stone Face, although some possessed the gift of distinguishing this
+grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many of their neighbours.
+The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of
+majestic playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain
+by some immense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a
+position as, when viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble
+the features of the human countenance. It seemed as if an enormous
+giant, or a Titan, had sculptured his own likeness on the precipice.
+There was the broad arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in height;
+the nose, with its long bridge; and the vast lips, which, if they
+could have spoken, would have rolled their thunder accents from one
+end of the valley to the other. True it is, that if the spectator
+approached too near, he lost the outline of the gigantic visage, and
+could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic rocks, piled in
+chaotic ruin one upon another. Retracing his steps, however, the
+wondrous features would again be seen; and the farther he withdrew
+from them, the more like a human face, with all its original divinity
+intact did they appear; until, as it grew dim in the distance, with
+the clouds and glorified vapour of the mountains clustering about it,
+the Great Stone Face seemed positively to be alive.
+
+It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood
+with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were
+noble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were
+the glow of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its
+affections, and had room for more. It was an education only to look at
+it. According to the belief of many people, the valley owed much of
+its fertility to this benign aspect that was continually beaming over
+it, illuminating the clouds, and infusing its tenderness into the
+sunshine.
+
+As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their
+cottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it.
+The child's name was Ernest.
+
+"Mother," said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, "I wish
+that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must
+needs be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should
+love him dearly."
+
+"If an old prophecy should come to pass," answered his mother, "we may
+see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that."
+
+"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?" eagerly inquired Ernest.
+"Pray tell me all about it!"
+
+So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her,
+when she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of
+things that were past, but of what was yet to come; a story,
+nevertheless, so very old, that even the Indians, who formerly
+inhabited this valley, had heard it from their forefathers, to whom,
+as they affirmed, it had been murmured by the mountain streams, and
+whispered by the wind among the tree-tops. The purport was, that, at
+some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, who was destined
+to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, and whose
+countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the Great
+Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise,
+in the ardour of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in
+this old prophecy. But others who had seen more of the world had
+watched and waited till they were weary, and had beheld no man with
+such a face, nor any man that proved to be much greater or nobler than
+his neighbours, concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all
+events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared.
+
+"O mother, dear mother!" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his
+head, "I do hope that I shall live to see him!"
+
+His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it
+was wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So
+she only said to him, "Perhaps you may."
+
+And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was
+always in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He
+spent his childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was
+dutiful to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting
+her much with his little hands, and more with his loving heart. In
+this manner, from a happy yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a
+mild, quiet, unobtrusive boy, and sun-browned with labour in the
+fields, but with more intelligence brightening his aspect than is seen
+in many lads who have been taught at famous schools. Yet Ernest had
+had no teacher, save only that the Great Stone Face became one to him.
+When the toil of the day was over, he would gaze at it for hours,
+until he began to imagine that those vast features recognised him, and
+gave him a smile of kindness and encouragement, responsive to his own
+look of veneration. We must not take upon us to affirm that this was a
+mistake, although the Face may have looked no more kindly at Ernest
+than at all the world beside. But the secret was, that the boy's
+tender and confiding simplicity discerned what other people could not
+see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became his peculiar
+portion.
+
+About this time, there went a rumour throughout the valley, that the
+great man, foretold from ages long ago, who was to bear a resemblance
+to the Great Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many
+years before, a young man had migrated from the valley and settled at
+a distant seaport, where, after getting together a little money, he
+had set up as a shopkeeper. His name--but I could never learn whether
+it was his real one, or a nickname that had grown out of his habits
+and success in life--was Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and
+endowed by Providence with that inscrutable faculty which develops
+itself in what the world calls luck, he became an exceedingly rich
+merchant, and owner of a whole fleet of bulky-bottomed ships. All the
+countries of the globe appeared to join hands for the mere purpose of
+adding heap after heap to the mountainous accumulation of this one
+man's wealth. The cold regions of the north, almost within the gloom
+and shadow of the Arctic Circle, sent him their tribute in the shape
+of furs; hot Africa sifted for him the golden sands of her rivers, and
+gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out of the forests;
+the East came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, and teas, and
+the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of large pearls.
+The ocean, not to be behindhand with the earth, yielded up her mighty
+whales, that Mr. Gathergold might sell their oil, and make a profit on
+it. Be the original commodity what it might, it was gold within his
+grasp. It might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, that
+whatever he touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew
+yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited
+him still better, into piles of coin. And, when Mr. Gathergold had
+become so very rich that it would have taken him a hundred years only
+to count his wealth, he bethought himself of his native valley, and
+resolved to go back thither, and end his days where he was born. With
+this purpose in view, he sent a skilful architect to build him such a
+palace as should be fit for a man of his vast wealth to live in.
+
+As I have said above, it had already been rumoured in the valley that
+Mr. Gathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long
+and vainly looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and
+undeniable similitude of the Great Stone Face. People were the more
+ready to believe that this must needs be the fact, when they beheld
+the splendid edifice that rose, as if by enchantment, on the site of
+his father's old weather-beaten farmhouse. The exterior was of marble,
+so dazzlingly white that it seemed as though the whole structure might
+melt away in the sunshine, like those humbler ones which Mr.
+Gathergold, in his young play-days, before his fingers were gifted
+with the touch of transmutation, had been accustomed to build of snow.
+It had a richly ornamented portico, supported by tall pillars, beneath
+which was a lofty door, studded with silver knobs, and made of a kind
+of variegated wood that had been brought from beyond the sea. The
+windows, from the floor to the ceiling of each stately apartment, were
+composed, respectively, of but one enormous pane of glass, so
+transparently pure that it was said to be a finer medium than even the
+vacant atmosphere. Hardly anybody had been permitted to see the
+interior of this palace; but it was reported, and with good semblance
+of truth, to be far more gorgeous than the outside, insomuch that
+whatever was iron or brass in other houses was silver or gold in this;
+and Mr. Gathergold's bedchamber, especially, made such a glittering
+appearance that no ordinary man would have been able to close his eyes
+there. But, on the other hand, Mr. Gathergold was now so inured to
+wealth, that perhaps he could not have closed his eyes unless where
+the gleam of it was certain to find its way beneath his eyelids.
+
+In due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers,
+with magnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white
+servants, the harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic
+person, was expected to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest,
+meanwhile, had been deeply stirred by the idea that the great man, the
+noble man, the man of prophecy, after so many ages of delay, was at
+length to be made manifest to his native valley. He knew, boy as he
+was, that there were a thousand ways in which Mr. Gathergold, with
+his vast wealth, might transform himself into an angel of beneficence,
+and assume a control over human affairs as wide and benignant as the
+smile of the Great Stone Face. Full of faith and hope, Ernest doubted
+not that what the people said was true, and that now he was to behold
+the living likeness of those wondrous features on the mountain-side.
+While the boy was still gazing up the valley, and fancying, as he
+always did, that the Great Stone Face returned his gaze and looked
+kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was heard, approaching swiftly
+along the winding road.
+
+"Here he comes!" cried a group of people who were assembled to witness
+the arrival. "Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!"
+
+A carriage, drawn by four horses, dashed round the turn of the road.
+Within it, thrust partly out of the window, appeared the physiognomy
+of a little old man, with a skin as yellow as if his own Midas-hand
+had transmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered
+about with innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, which he made
+still thinner by pressing them forcibly together.
+
+"The very image of the Great Stone Face!" shouted the people. "Sure
+enough, the old prophecy is true; and here we have the great man come,
+at last!"
+
+And, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe
+that here was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there
+chanced to be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children,
+stragglers from some far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled
+onward, held out their hands and lifted up their doleful voices, most
+piteously beseeching charity. A yellow claw--the very same that had
+clawed together so much wealth--poked itself out of the coach-window,
+and dropt some copper coins upon the ground; so that, though the
+great man's name seems to have been Gathergold, he might just as
+suitably have been nicknamed Scattercopper. Still, nevertheless, with
+an earnest shout, and evidently with as much good faith as ever, the
+people bellowed:
+
+"He is the very image of the Great Stone Face!"
+
+But Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid
+visage, and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded
+by the last sunbeams, he could still distinguish those glorious
+features which had impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect
+cheered him. What did the benign lips seem to say?
+
+"He will come! Fear not, Ernest; the man will come!"
+
+The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a
+young man now. He attracted little notice from the other inhabitants
+of the valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life,
+save that, when the labour of the day was over, he still loved to go
+apart and gaze and meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to
+their idea of the matter, it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable,
+inasmuch as Ernest was industrious, kind, and neighbourly, and
+neglected no duty for the sake of indulging this idle habit. They knew
+not that the Great Stone Face had become a teacher to him, and that
+the sentiment which was expressed in it would enlarge the young man's
+heart, and fill it with wider and deeper sympathies than other hearts.
+They knew not that thence would come a better wisdom than could be
+learned from books, and a better life than could be moulded on the
+defaced example of other human lives. Neither did Ernest know that the
+thoughts and affections which came to him so naturally, in the fields
+and at the fireside, and wherever he communed with himself, were of a
+higher tone than those which all men shared with him. A simple
+soul--simple as when his mother first taught him the old prophecy--he
+beheld the marvellous features beaming adown the valley, and still
+wondered that their human counterpart was so long in making his
+appearance.
+
+By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest
+part of the matter was, that his wealth which was the body and spirit
+of his existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of
+him but a living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin.
+Since the melting away of his gold, it had been very generally
+conceded that there was no such striking resemblance, after all,
+betwixt the ignoble features of the ruined merchant and that majestic
+face upon the mountain-side. So the people ceased to honour him during
+his lifetime, and quietly consigned him to forgetfulness after his
+decease. Once in a while, it is true, his memory was brought up in
+connection with the magnificent palace which he had built, and which
+had long ago been turned into a hotel for the accommodation of
+strangers, multitudes of whom came, every summer, to visit that famous
+natural curiosity, the Great Stone Face. Thus, Mr. Gathergold being
+discredited and thrown into the shade, the man of prophecy was yet to
+come.
+
+It so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years
+before, had enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard
+fighting, had now become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be
+called in history, he was known in camps and on the battle-field under
+the nickname of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being
+now infirm with age and wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military
+life, and of the roll of the drum and the clangour of the trumpet,
+that had so long been ringing in his ears, had lately signified a
+purpose of returning to his native valley hoping to find repose where
+he remembered to have left it. The inhabitants, his old neighbours and
+their grown-up children, were resolved to welcome the renowned warrior
+with a salute of cannon and a public dinner; and all the more
+enthusiastically, it being affirmed that now, at last, the likeness of
+the Great Stone Face had actually appeared. An aide-de-camp of Old
+Blood-and-Thunder, travelling through the valley, was said to have
+been struck with the resemblance. Moreover the schoolmates and early
+acquaintances of the general were ready to testify, on oath, that, to
+the best of their recollection, the aforesaid general had been
+exceedingly like the majestic image, even when a boy, only that the
+idea had never occurred to them at that period. Great, therefore, was
+the excitement throughout the valley; and many people, who had never
+once thought of glancing at the Great Stone Face for years before, now
+spent their time in gazing at it, for the sake of knowing exactly how
+General Blood-and-Thunder looked.
+
+On the day of the great festival, Ernest, with all the other people of
+the valley, left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the
+sylvan banquet was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the
+Rev. Dr. Battleblast was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good
+things set before them, and on the distinguished friend of peace in
+whose honour they were assembled. The tables were arranged in a
+cleared space of the woods, shut in by the surrounding trees, except
+where a vista opened eastward, and afforded a distant view of the
+Great Stone Face. Over the general's chair, which was a relic from the
+home of Washington, there was an arch of verdant boughs, with the
+laurel profusely intermixed, and surmounted by his country's banner,
+beneath which he had won his victories. Our friend Ernest raised
+himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to get a glimpse of the celebrated
+guest; but there was a mighty crowd about the tables anxious to hear
+the toasts and speeches, and to catch any word that might fall from
+the general in reply; and a volunteer company, doing duty as a guard,
+pricked ruthlessly with their bayonets at any particularly quiet
+person among the throng. So Ernest, being of an unobtrusive character
+was thrust quite into the background, where he could see no more of
+Old Blood-and-Thunder's physiognomy than if it had been still blazing
+on the battle-field. To console himself, he turned towards the Great
+Stone Face, which, like a faithful and long-remembered friend, looked
+back and smiled upon him through the vista of the forest. Meantime,
+however, he could overhear the remarks of various individuals, who
+were comparing the features of the hero with the face on the distant
+mountain-side.
+
+"'Tis the same face, to a hair!" cried one man, cutting a caper for
+joy.
+
+"Wonderfully like, that's a fact!" responded another.
+
+"Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous
+looking-glass!" cried a third. "And why not? He's the greatest man of
+this or any other age, beyond a doubt."
+
+And then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which
+communicated electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a
+thousand voices, that went reverberating for miles among the
+mountains, until you might have supposed that the Great Stone Face had
+poured its thunder-breath into the cry. All these comments, and this
+vast enthusiasm, served the more to interest our friend; nor did he
+think of questioning that now, at length, the mountain-visage had
+found its human counterpart. It is true, Ernest had imagined that this
+long-looked-for personage would appear in the character of a man of
+peace, uttering wisdom and doing good, and making people happy. But,
+taking an habitual breadth of view, with all his simplicity, he
+contended that Providence should choose its own method of blessing
+mankind, and could conceive that this great end might be effected even
+by a warrior and a bloody sword, should inscrutable wisdom see fit to
+order matters so.
+
+"The general! the general!" was now the cry. "Hush! silence! Old
+Blood-and-Thunder's going to make a speech."
+
+Even so; for, the cloth being removed, the general's health had been
+drunk amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to thank
+the company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders of the
+crowd, from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar upward,
+beneath the arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and the
+banner drooping as if to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in
+the same glance, through the vista of the forest, appeared the Great
+Stone Face! And was there, indeed, such a resemblance as the crowd had
+testified? Alas, Ernest could not recognise it! He beheld a war-worn
+and weather-beaten countenance, full of energy, and expressive of an
+iron will; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, broad, tender sympathies,
+were altogether wanting in Old Blood-and-Thunder's visage; and even if
+the Great Stone Face had assumed his look of stern command, the milder
+traits would still have tempered it.
+
+"This is not the man of prophecy," sighed Ernest, to himself, as he
+made his way out of the throng. "And must the world wait longer yet?"
+
+The mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there
+were seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful
+but benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and
+enrobing himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked,
+Ernest could hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole
+visage, with a radiance still brightening, although without motion of
+the lips. It was probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting
+through the thinly diffused vapours that had swept between him and the
+object that he gazed at. But--as it always did--the aspect of his
+marvellous friend made Ernest as hopeful as if he had never hoped in
+vain.
+
+"Fear not, Ernest," said his heart, even as if the Great Face were
+whispering him--"fear not, Ernest; he will come."
+
+More years sped swiftly and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his
+native valley, and was now a man of middle age. By imperceptible
+degrees, he had become known among the people. Now, as heretofore, he
+laboured for his bread, and was the same simple-hearted man that he
+had always been. But he had thought and felt so much he had given so
+many of the best hours of his life to unworldly hopes for some great
+good to mankind, that it seemed as though he had been talking with the
+angels, and had imbibed a portion of their wisdom unawares. It was
+visible in the calm and well-considered beneficence of his daily life,
+the quiet stream of which had made a wide green margin all along its
+course. Not a day passed by, that the world was not the better because
+this man, humble as he was, had lived. He never stepped aside from his
+own path, yet would always reach a blessing to his neighbour. Almost
+involuntarily, too, he had become a preacher. The pure and high
+simplicity of his thought, which, as one of its manifestations, took
+shape in the good deeds that dropped silently from his hand, flowed
+also forth in speech. He uttered truths that wrought upon and moulded
+the lives of those who heard him. His auditors, it may be, never
+suspected that Ernest, their own neighbour and familiar friend, was
+more than an ordinary man; least of all did Ernest himself suspect it;
+but, inevitably as the murmur of a rivulet, came thoughts out of his
+mouth that no other human lips had spoken.
+
+When the people's minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready
+enough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between
+General Blood-and-Thunder's truculent physiognomy and the benign
+visage on the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and
+many paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the
+Great Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain
+eminent statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder,
+was a native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and
+taken up the trades of law and politics. Instead of the rich man's
+wealth and the warrior's sword, he had but a tongue, and it was
+mightier than both together. So wonderfully eloquent was he, that
+whatever he might choose to say, his auditors had no choice but to
+believe him; wrong looked like right, and right like wrong; for when
+it pleased him, he could make a kind of illuminated fog with his mere
+breath, and obscure the natural daylight with it. His tongue, indeed,
+was a magic instrument: sometimes it rumbled like the thunder;
+sometimes it warbled like the sweetest music. It was the blast of
+war--the song of peace; and it seemed to have a heart in it, when
+there was no such matter. In good truth, he was a wondrous man; and
+when his tongue had acquired him all other imaginable success--when it
+had been heard in halls of state, and in the courts of princes and
+potentates--after it had made him known all over the world, even as a
+voice crying from shore to shore--it finally persuaded his countrymen
+to select him for the Presidency. Before this time--indeed, as soon as
+he began to grow celebrated--his admirers had found out the
+resemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much were
+they struck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished
+gentleman was known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was
+considered as giving a highly favourable aspect to his political
+prospects; for, as is likewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever
+becomes President without taking a name other than his own.
+
+While his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old
+Stony Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where
+he was born. Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands
+with his fellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any
+effect which his progress through the country might have upon the
+election. Magnificent preparations were made to receive the
+illustrious statesman; a cavalcade of horsemen set forth to meet him
+at the boundary line of the State, and all the people left their
+business and gathered along the wayside to see him pass. Among these
+was Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, as we have seen, he
+had such a hopeful and confiding nature, that he was always ready to
+believe in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept his heart
+continually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from on
+high, when it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he went
+forth to behold the likeness of the Great Stone Face.
+
+The cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clattering of
+hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and high that
+the visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden from Ernest's
+eyes. All the great men of the neighbourhood were there on horseback:
+militia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; the sheriff of
+the county; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer, too, had
+mounted his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his back. It
+really was a very brilliant spectacle, especially as there were
+numerous banners flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were
+gorgeous portraits of the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone
+Face, smiling familiarly at one another, like two brothers. If the
+pictures were to be trusted, the mutual resemblance, it must be
+confessed, was marvellous. We must not forget to mention that there
+was a band of music, which made the echoes of the mountains ring and
+reverberate with the loud triumph of its strains; so that airy and
+soul-thrilling melodies broke out among all the heights and hollows,
+as if every nook of his native valley had found a voice to welcome the
+distinguished guest. But the grandest effect was when the far-off
+mountain precipice flung back the music; for then the Great Stone Face
+itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, in acknowledgment
+that, at length, the man of prophecy was come.
+
+All this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting,
+with enthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and
+he likewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest,
+"Huzza for the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz?" But as yet he had
+not seen him.
+
+"Here he is, now!" cried those who stood near Ernest. "There! There!
+Look at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and
+see if they are not as like as two twin-brothers!"
+
+In the midst of all this gallant array, came an open barouche, drawn
+by four white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head
+uncovered, sat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself.
+
+"Confess it," said one of Ernest's neighbours to him, "the Great Stone
+Face has met its match at last!"
+
+Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance
+which was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that
+there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the
+mountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all
+the other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in
+emulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity
+and stateliness, the grand expression of a divine sympathy, that
+illuminated the mountain visage, and etherealised its ponderous
+granite substance into spirit, might here be sought in vain. Something
+had been originally left out, or had departed. And therefore the
+marvellously gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deep
+caverns of his eyes, as of a child that has outgrown its playthings,
+or a man of mighty faculties and little aims, whose life, with all its
+high performances, was vague and empty, because no high purpose had
+endowed it with reality.
+
+Still, Ernest's neighbour was thrusting his elbow into his side, and
+pressing him for an answer.
+
+"Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the
+Mountain?"
+
+"No!" said Ernest, bluntly, "I see little or no likeness."
+
+"Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!" answered his
+neighbour; and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz.
+
+But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this
+was the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have
+fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the
+cavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him,
+with the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle
+down, and the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur
+that it had worn for untold centuries.
+
+"Lo, here I am, Ernest!" the benign lips seemed to say. "I have
+waited longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will
+come."
+
+The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another's
+heels. And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over
+the head of Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead,
+and furrows in his cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he
+grown old; more than the white hairs on his head were the sage
+thoughts in his mind; his wrinkles and furrows were inscriptions that
+Time had graved, and in which he had written legends of wisdom that
+had been tested by the tenor of a life. And Ernest had ceased to be
+obscure. Unsought for, undesired, had come the fame which so many
+seek, and made him known in the great world, beyond the limits of the
+valley in which he had dwelt so quietly. College professors, and even
+the active men of cities, came from far to see and converse with
+Ernest; for the report had gone abroad that this simple husbandman had
+ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, but of a
+higher tone--a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he had been
+talking with the angels as his daily friends. Whether it were sage,
+statesman, or philanthropist, Ernest received these visitors with the
+gentle sincerity that had characterised him from boyhood, and spoke
+freely with them of whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his
+heart or their own. While they talked together, his face would kindle,
+unawares, and shine upon them, as with a mild evening light. Pensive
+with the fulness of such discourse, his guests took leave and went
+their way; and passing up the valley, paused to look at the Great
+Stone Face, imagining that they had seen its likeness in a human
+countenance, but could not remember where.
+
+While Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful
+Providence had granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a
+native of the valley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a
+distance from that romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid
+the bustle and din of cities. Often, however, did the mountains which
+had been familiar to him in his childhood, lift their snowy peaks into
+the clear atmosphere of his poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face
+forgotten, for the poet had celebrated it in an ode, which was grand
+enough to have been uttered by its own majestic lips. This man of
+genius, we may say, had come down from heaven with wonderful
+endowments. If he sang of a mountain, the eyes of all mankind beheld a
+mightier grandeur reposing on its breast, or soaring to its summit,
+than had before been seen there. If his theme were a lovely lake, a
+celestial smile had now been thrown over it, to gleam forever on its
+surface. If it were the vast old sea, even the deep immensity of its
+dread bosom seemed to swell the higher, as if moved by the emotions of
+the song. Thus the world assumed another and a better aspect from the
+hour that the poet blessed it with his happy eyes. The Creator had
+bestowed him, as the last best touch to his own handiwork. Creation
+was not finished till the poet came to interpret, and so complete it.
+
+The effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren
+were the subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the
+common dust of life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child
+who played in it, were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of
+poetic faith. He showed the golden links of the great chain that
+intertwined them with an angelic kindred; he brought out the hidden
+traits of a celestial birth that made them worthy of such kin. Some,
+indeed, there were, who thought to show the soundness of their
+judgment by affirming that all the beauty and dignity of the natural
+world existed only in the poet's fancy. Let such men speak for
+themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have been spawned forth by
+Nature with a contemptuous bitterness; she having plastered them up
+out of her refuse stuff, after all the swine were made. As respects
+all things else, the poet's ideal was the truest truth.
+
+The songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after
+his customary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where
+for such a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by
+gazing at the Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused
+the soul to thrill within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast
+countenance beaming on him so benignantly.
+
+"O majestic friend," he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, "is
+not this man worthy to resemble thee?"
+
+The Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word.
+
+Now it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not
+only heard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until
+he deemed nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught
+wisdom walked hand in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One
+summer morning, therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in
+the decline of the afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great
+distance from Ernest's cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly
+been the palace of Mr. Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet,
+with his carpet-bag on his arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt,
+and was resolved to be accepted as his guest.
+
+Approaching the door, he there found the good old man holding a volume
+in his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger
+between the leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face.
+
+"Good evening," said the poet. "Can you give a traveller a night's
+lodging?"
+
+"Willingly," answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, "Methinks I
+never saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger."
+
+The poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked
+together. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and
+the wisest, but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts
+and feelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great
+truths so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had
+been so often said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labour in
+the fields; angels seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and,
+dwelling with angels as friend with friends, he had imbibed the
+sublimity of their ideas, and imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm
+of household words. So thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other
+hand, was moved and agitated by the living images which the poet flung
+out of his mind, and which peopled all the air about the cottage-door
+with shapes of beauty, both gay and pensive. The sympathies of these
+two men instructed them with a profounder sense than either could have
+attained alone. Their minds accorded into one strain, and made
+delightful music which neither of them could have claimed as all his
+own, nor distinguished his own share from the other's. They led one
+another, as it were, into a high pavilion of their thoughts, so
+remote, and hitherto so dim, that they had never entered it before,
+and so beautiful that they desired to be there always.
+
+As Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face
+was bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet's
+glowing eyes.
+
+"Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?" he said.
+
+The poet laid his finger on the volume that Ernest had been reading.
+
+"You have read these poems," said he. "You know me, then--for I wrote
+them."
+
+Again, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the
+poet's features; then turned towards the Great Stone Face; then back,
+with an uncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he
+shook his head, and sighed.
+
+"Wherefore are you sad?" inquired the poet.
+
+"Because," replied Ernest, "all through life I have awaited the
+fulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that
+it might be fulfilled in you."
+
+"You hoped," answered the poet, faintly smiling, "to find in me the
+likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as
+formerly with Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony
+Phiz. Yes, Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the
+illustrious three, and record another failure of your hopes. For--in
+shame and sadness do I speak it, Ernest--I am not worthy to be
+typified by yonder benign and majestic image."
+
+"And why?" asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. "Are not those
+thoughts divine?"
+
+"They have a strain of the Divinity," replied the poet. "You can hear
+in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest,
+has not corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but
+they have been only dreams, because I have lived--and that, too, by my
+own choice--among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even--shall I
+dare to say it?--I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the
+goodness, which my own works are said to have made more evident in
+nature and in human life. Why, then, pure seeker of the good and
+true, shouldst thou hope to find me, in yonder image of the divine?"
+
+The poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise,
+were those of Ernest.
+
+At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest
+was to discourse to an assemblage of the neighbouring inhabitants in
+the open air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as
+they went along, proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the
+hills, with a gray precipice behind, the stern front of which was
+relieved by the pleasant foliage of many creeping plants, that made a
+tapestry for the naked rocks, by hanging their festoons from all its
+rugged angles. At a small elevation above the ground, set in a rich
+framework of verdure, there appeared a niche, spacious enough to admit
+a human figure, with freedom for such gestures as spontaneously
+accompany earnest thought and genuine emotion. Into this natural
+pulpit Ernest ascended, and threw a look of familiar kindness around
+upon his audience. They stood, or sat, or reclined upon the grass, as
+seemed good to each, with the departing sunshine falling obliquely
+over them, and mingling its subdued cheerfulness with the solemnity of
+a grove of ancient trees, beneath and amid the boughs of which the
+golden rays were constrained to pass. In another direction was seen
+the Great Stone Face, with the same cheer, combined with the same
+solemnity, in its benignant aspect.
+
+Ernest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart
+and mind. His words had power, because they accorded with his
+thoughts; and his thoughts had reality and depth, because they
+harmonised with the life which he had always lived. It was not mere
+breath that this preacher uttered; they were the words of life,
+because a life of good deeds and holy love was melted into them.
+Pearls, pure and rich, had been dissolved into this precious draught.
+The poet, as he listened, felt that the being and character of Ernest
+were a nobler strain of poetry than he had ever written. His eyes
+glistening with tears, he gazed reverentially at the venerable man,
+and said within himself that never was there an aspect so worthy of a
+prophet and a sage as that mild, sweet, thoughtful countenance, with
+the glory of white hair diffused about it. At a distance, but
+distinctly to be seen, high up in the golden light of the setting sun,
+appeared the Great Stone Face, with hoary mists around it, like the
+white hairs around the brow of Ernest. Its look of grand beneficence
+seemed to embrace the world.
+
+At that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to
+utter, the face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued
+with benevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his
+arms aloft, and shouted:
+
+"Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone
+Face."
+
+Then all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet
+said was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished
+what he had to say, took the poet's arm, and walked slowly homeward,
+still hoping that some wiser and better man than himself would by and
+by appear, bearing a resemblance to the _Great Stone Face_.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN
+
+     SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE
+     HOME AGAIN
+
+
+John Gilpin was a citizen
+  Of credit and renown,
+A train-band captain eke was he
+  Of famous London town.
+
+John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
+  "Though wedded we have been
+These twice ten tedious years, yet we
+  No holiday have seen.
+
+"To-morrow is our wedding-day,
+  And we will then repair
+Unto the Bell at Edmonton
+  All in a chaise and pair.
+
+"My sister and my sister's child,
+  Myself, and children three,
+Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
+  On horseback after we."
+
+He soon replied, "I do admire
+  Of womankind but one,
+And you are she, my dearest dear.
+  Therefore it shall be done.
+
+"I am a linen-draper bold,
+  As all the world doth know,
+And my good friend the calender
+  Will lend his horse to go."
+
+Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said;
+  And for that wine is dear,
+We will be furnished with our own,
+  Which is both bright and clear."
+
+John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;
+  O'er joyed was he to find,
+That, though on pleasure she was bent,
+  She had a frugal mind.
+
+The morning came, the chaise was brought,
+  But yet was not allowed
+To drive up to the door, lest all
+  Should say that she was proud.
+
+So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
+  Where they did all get in;
+Six precious souls, and all agog
+  To dash through thick and thin.
+
+Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
+  Were never folks so glad,
+The stones did rattle underneath,
+  As if Cheapside were mad.
+
+John Gilpin at his horse's side
+  Seized fast the flowing mane,
+And up he got, in haste to ride,
+  But soon came down again;
+
+For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,
+  His journey to begin,
+When, turning round his head, he saw
+  Three customers come in.
+
+So down he came; for loss of time,
+  Although it grieved him sore,
+Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
+  Would trouble him much more.
+
+'Twas long before the customers
+  Were suited to their mind,
+When Betty screaming came down stairs,
+  "The wine is left behind!"
+
+"Good lack!" quoth he--"yet bring it me
+  My leathern belt likewise,
+In which I bear my trusty sword
+  When I do exercise."
+
+Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!)
+  Had two stone bottles found,
+To hold the liquor that she loved,
+  And keep it safe and sound.
+
+Each bottle had a curling ear,
+  Through which the belt he drew,
+And hung a bottle on each side,
+  To make his balance true.
+
+Then over all, that he might be
+  Equipped from top to toe,
+His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,
+  He manfully did throw.
+
+Now see him mounted once again
+  Upon his nimble steed,
+Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,
+  With caution and good heed.
+
+But finding soon a smoother road
+  Beneath his well-shod feet,
+The snorting beast began to trot,
+  Which galled him in his seat.
+
+So, "Fair and softly," John he cried,
+  But John he cried in vain;
+That trot became a gallop soon,
+  In spite of curb and rein.
+
+So stooping down, as needs be must
+  Who cannot sit upright,
+He grasped the mane with both his hands
+  And eke with all his might.
+
+His horse, who never in that sort
+  Had handled been before,
+What thing upon his back had got
+  Did wonder more and more.
+
+Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;
+  Away went hat and wig;
+He little dreamt, when he set out,
+  Of running such a rig.
+
+The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
+  Like streamer long and gay,
+Till loop and button failing both,
+  At last it flew away.
+
+Then might all people well discern
+  The bottles he has slung;
+A bottle swinging at each side,
+  As hath been said or sung.
+
+The dogs did bark, the children screamed
+  Up flew the windows all;
+And every soul cried out, "Well done!"
+  As loud as he could bawl.
+
+Away went Gilpin--who but he?
+  His fame soon spread around;
+"He carries weight!" "He rides a race!"
+  "'Tis for a thousand pound!"
+
+And still, as fast as he drew near,
+  'Twas wonderful to view,
+How in a trice the turnpike-men
+  Their gates wide open threw.
+
+And now, as he went bowing down
+  His reeking head full low,
+The bottles twain behind his back
+  Were shattered at a blow.
+
+Down ran the wine into the road,
+  Most piteous to be seen,
+Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
+  As they had basted been.
+
+But still he seemed to carry weight
+  With leathern girdle braced;
+For all might see the bottle necks
+  Still dangling at his waist.
+
+Thus all through merry Islington
+  These gambols he did play,
+Until he came unto the Wash
+  Of Edmonton so gay;
+
+And there he threw the Wash about
+  On both sides of the way,
+Just like unto a trundling mop,
+  Or a wild goose at play.
+
+At Edmonton his loving wife
+  From the balcony she spied
+Her tender husband, wondering much
+  To see how he did ride.
+
+"Stop, stop, John Gilpin!--Here's the house!"
+  They all at once did cry;
+"The dinner waits, and we are tired;"
+  Said Gilpin--"So am I!"
+
+But yet his horse was not a whit
+  Inclined to tarry there;
+For why?--his owner had a house
+  Full ten miles off, at Ware.
+
+So like an arrow swift he flew,
+  Shot by an archer strong;
+So did he fly--which brings me to
+  The middle of my song.
+
+Away went Gilpin, out of breath,
+  And sore against his will,
+Till at his friend's the calender's
+  His horse at last stood still.
+
+The calender, amazed to see
+  His neighbour in such trim,
+Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
+  And thus accosted him:
+
+"What news? what news? your tidings tell;
+  Tell me you must and shall--
+Say why bareheaded you are come,
+  Or why you come at all?"
+
+Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
+  And loved a timely joke;
+And thus unto the calender
+  In merry guise he spoke:
+
+"I came because your horse would come,
+  And, if I well forebode,
+My hat and wig will soon be here,
+  They are upon the road."
+
+The calender, right glad to find
+  His friend in merry pin,
+Returned him not a single word,
+  But to the house went in;
+
+Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
+  A wig that flowed behind,
+A hat not much the worse for wear,
+  Each comely in its kind.
+
+He held them up, and in his turn
+  Thus showed his ready wit,
+"My head is twice as big as yours,
+  They therefore needs must fit.
+
+"But let me scrape the dirt away
+  That hangs upon your face;
+And stop and eat, for well you may
+  Be in a hungry case."
+
+Said John, "It is my wedding-day,
+  And all the world would stare,
+If wife should dine at Edmonton,
+  And I should dine at Ware."
+
+So turning to his horse, he said,
+  "I am in haste to dine;
+'Twas for your pleasure you came here,
+  You shall go back for mine."
+
+Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast!
+  For which he paid full dear;
+For, while he spake, a braying ass
+  Did sing most loud and clear;
+
+Whereat his horse did snort, as he
+  Had heard a lion roar,
+And galloped off with all his might,
+  As he had done before.
+
+Away went Gilpin, and away
+  Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
+He lost them sooner than at first;
+  For why?--they were too big.
+
+Now Mrs. Gilpin, when she saw
+  Her husband posting down
+Into the country far away,
+  She pulled out half-a-crown;
+
+And thus unto the youth, she said,
+  That drove them to the Bell,
+"This shall be yours, when you bring back
+  My husband safe and well."
+
+The youth did ride, and soon did meet
+  John coming back amain;
+Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
+  By catching at his rein;
+
+But not performing what he meant,
+  And gladly would have done,
+The frightened steed he frighted more,
+  And made him faster run.
+
+Away went Gilpin, and away
+  Went postboy at his heels,
+The postboy's horse right glad to miss
+  The lumbering of the wheels.
+
+Six gentlemen upon the road,
+  Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
+With postboy scampering in the rear,
+  They raised the hue and cry:--
+
+"Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!"
+  Not one of them was mute;
+And all and each that passed that way
+  Did join in the pursuit.
+
+And now the turnpike gates again
+  Flew open in short space;
+The toll-men thinking, as before,
+  That Gilpin rode a race.
+
+And so he did, and won it too,
+  For he got first to town;
+Nor stopped till where he had got up
+  He did again get down.
+
+Now let us sing, Long live the king!
+  And Gilpin long live he;
+And, when he next doth ride abroad,
+  May I be there to see!
+
+                   --WILLIAM COWPER
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY
+
+
+I suppose that very few casual readers of the _New York Herald_ of
+August 13, 1863, observed, in an obscure corner, among the "Deaths,"
+the announcement,--
+
+     "NOLAN. Died, on board U.S. Corvette _Levant_, Lat. 2° 11'
+     S., Long. 131° W., on the 11th of May, PHILIP NOLAN."
+
+I happened to observe it, because I was stranded at the old Mission
+House in Mackinaw, waiting for a Lake Superior steamer which did not
+choose to come, and I was devouring to the very stubble all the
+current literature I could get hold of, even down to the deaths and
+marriages in the _Herald_. My memory for names and people is good, and
+the reader will see, as he goes on, that I had reason enough to
+remember Philip Nolan. There are hundreds of readers who would have
+paused at that announcement, if the officer of the _Levant_ who
+reported it had chosen to make it thus: "Died May 11th, THE MAN
+WITHOUT A COUNTRY." For it was as "The Man without a Country" that
+poor Philip Nolan had generally been known by the officers who had him
+in charge during some fifty years, as, indeed, by all the men who
+sailed under them. I dare say there is many a man who has taken wine
+with him once a fortnight, in a three years' cruise, who never knew
+that his name was "Nolan," or whether the poor wretch had any name at
+all.
+
+There can now be no possible harm in telling this poor creature's
+story. Reason enough there has been till now ever since Madison's
+administration went out in 1817, for very strict secrecy, the secrecy
+of honour itself, among the gentlemen of the navy who have had Nolan
+in successive charge. And certainly it speaks well for the _esprit de
+corps_ of the profession, and the personal honour of its members, that
+to the press this man's story has been wholly unknown--and, I think,
+to the country at large also. I have reason to think, from some
+investigations I made in the Naval Archives when I was attached to the
+Bureau of Construction, that every official report relating to him was
+burned when Ross burned the public buildings at Washington. One of the
+Tuckers, or possibly one of the Watsons, had Nolan in charge at the
+end of the war; and when, on returning from his cruise, he reported at
+Washington to one of the Crowninshields--who was in the Navy
+Department when he came home--he found that the Department ignored the
+whole business. Whether they really knew nothing about it, or whether
+it was a "_Non mi ricordo_," determined on as a piece of policy I do
+not know. But this I do know, that since 1817, and possibly before, no
+naval officer has mentioned Nolan in his report of a cruise.
+
+But, as I say, there is no need for secrecy any longer. And now the
+poor creature is dead, it seems to me worth while to tell a little of
+his story, by way of showing young Americans of to-day what it is to
+be A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.
+
+PHILIP NOLAN was as fine a young officer as there was in the "Legion
+of the West," as the Western division of our army was then called.
+When Aaron Burr made his first dashing expedition down to New Orleans
+in 1805, at Fort Massac, or somewhere above on the river, he met, as
+the Devil would have it, this gay, dashing, bright young fellow; at
+some dinner-party, I think. Burr marked him, talked to him, walked
+with him, took him a day or two's voyage in his flat-boat, and, in
+short, fascinated him. For the next year, barrack-life was very tame
+to poor Nolan. He occasionally availed himself of the permission the
+great man had given him to write to him. Long, high-worded, stilted
+letters the poor boy wrote and rewrote and copied. But never a line
+did he have in reply from the gay deceiver. The other boys in the
+garrison sneered at him, because he lost the fun which they found in
+shooting or rowing while he was working away on these grand letters to
+his grand friend. They could not understand why Nolan kept by himself
+while they were playing high-low-jack. Poker was not yet invented. But
+before long the young fellow had his revenge. For this time His
+Excellency, Honourable Aaron Burr, appeared again under a very
+different aspect. There were rumours that he had an army behind him
+and everybody supposed that he had an empire before him. At that time
+the youngsters all envied him. Burr had not been talking twenty
+minutes with the commander before he asked him to send for Lieutenant
+Nolan. Then after a little talk he asked Nolan if he could show him
+something of the great river and the plans for the new post. He asked
+Nolan to take him out in his skiff to show him a canebrake or a
+cottonwood tree, as he said, really to seduce him; and by the time the
+sail was over, Nolan was enlisted body and soul. From that time,
+though he did not yet know it, he lived as A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.
+
+What Burr meant to do I know no more than you, dear reader. It is none
+of our business just now. Only, when the grand catastrophe came, and
+Jefferson and the House of Virginia of that day undertook to break on
+the wheel all the possible Clarences of the then House of York, by the
+great treason trial at Richmond, some of the lesser fry in that
+distant Mississippi Valley, which was farther from us than Puget's
+Sound is to-day, introduced the like novelty on their provincial
+stage; and, to while away the monotony of the summer at Fort Adams,
+got up, for _spectacles_, a string of courts-martial on the officers
+there. One and another of the colonels and majors were tried, and, to
+fill out the list, little Nolan, against whom, Heaven knows, there was
+evidence enough--that he was sick of the service, had been willing to
+be false to it, and would have obeyed any order to march any whither
+with anyone who would follow him had the order been signed, "By
+command of His Exc. A. Burr." The courts dragged on. The big flies
+escaped, rightly for all I know. Nolan was proved guilty enough, as I
+say; yet you and I would never have heard of him, reader, but that,
+when the president of the court asked him at the close whether he
+wished to say anything to show that he had always been faithful to the
+United States, he cried out, in a fit of frenzy--
+
+"Damn the United States! I wish I may never hear of the United States
+again!"
+
+I suppose he did not know how the words shocked old Colonel Morgan,
+who was holding the court. Half the officers who sat in it had served
+through the Revolution, and their lives, not to say their necks, had
+been risked for the very idea which he so cavalierly cursed in his
+madness. He, on his part, had grown up in the West of those days, in
+the midst of "Spanish plot," "Orleans plot," and all the rest. He had
+been educated on a plantation where the finest company was a Spanish
+officer or a French merchant from Orleans. His education, such as it
+was, had been perfected in commercial expeditions to Vera Cruz, and I
+think he told me his father once hired an Englishman to be a private
+tutor for a winter on the plantation. He had spent half his youth with
+an older brother, hunting horses in Texas; and, in a word, to him
+"United States" was scarcely a reality. Yet he had been fed by "United
+States" for all the years since he had been in the army. He had sworn
+on his faith as a Christian to be true to "United States." It was
+"United States" which gave him the uniform he wore, and the sword by
+his side. Nay, my poor Nolan, it was only because "United States" had
+picked you out first as one of her own confidential men of honour that
+"A. Burr" cared for you a straw more than for the flat-boat men who
+sailed his ark for him. I do not excuse Nolan; I only explain to the
+reader why he damned his country, and wished he might never hear her
+name again.
+
+He never did hear her name but once again. From that moment, Sept. 23,
+1807, till the day he died, May 11, 1863, he never heard her name
+again. For that half-century and more he was a man without a country.
+
+Old Morgan, as I said, was terribly shocked. If Nolan had compared
+George Washington to Benedict Arnold, or had cried, "God save King
+George," Morgan would not have felt worse. He called the court into
+his private room, and returned in fifteen minutes, with a face like a
+sheet, to say:
+
+"Prisoner, hear the sentence of the Court! The Court decides, subject
+to the approval of the President, that you never hear the name of the
+United States again."
+
+Nolan laughed. But nobody else laughed. Old Morgan was too solemn, and
+the whole room was hushed dead as night for a minute. Even Nolan lost
+his swagger in a moment. Then Morgan added:
+
+"Mr. Marshal, take the prisoner to Orleans in an armed boat, and
+deliver him to the naval commander there."
+
+The marshal gave his orders and the prisoner was taken out of court.
+
+"Mr. Marshal," continued old Morgan, "see that no one mentions the
+United States to the prisoner. Mr. Marshal, make my respects to
+Lieutenant Mitchell at Orleans, and request him to order that no one
+shall mention the United States to the prisoner while he is on board
+ship. You will receive your written orders from the officer on duty
+here this evening. The Court is adjourned without day."
+
+I have always supposed that Colonel Morgan himself took the
+proceedings of the court to Washington city, and explained them to Mr.
+Jefferson. Certain it is that the President approved them--certain,
+that is, if I may believe the men who say they have seen his
+signature. Before the _Nautilus_ got round from New Orleans to the
+Northern Atlantic coast with the prisoner on board, the sentence had
+been approved, and he was a man without a country.
+
+The plan then adopted was substantially the same which was necessarily
+followed ever after. Perhaps it was suggested by the necessity of
+sending him by water from Fort Adams and Orleans. The Secretary of the
+Navy--it must have been the first Crowninshield, though he is a man I
+do not remember--was requested to put Nolan on board a government
+vessel bound on a long cruise, and to direct that he should be only so
+far confined there as to make it certain that he never saw or heard of
+the country. We had few long cruises then, and the navy was very much
+out of favour; and as almost all of this story is traditional, as I
+have explained, I do not know certainly what his first cruise was. But
+the commander to whom he was intrusted--perhaps it was Tingey or Shaw,
+though I think it was one of the younger men--we are all old enough
+now--regulated the etiquette and the precautions of the affair, and
+according to his scheme they were carried out, I suppose, till Nolan
+died.
+
+When I was second officer of the _Intrepid_, some thirty years after,
+I saw the original paper of instructions. I have been sorry ever
+since that I did not copy the whole of it. It ran, however, much in
+this way--
+
+                          WASHINGTON (with a date, which
+                           must have been late in 1807).
+
+     Sir,
+
+     You will receive from Lieutenant Neale the person of Philip
+     Nolan, late a lieutenant in the United States army.
+
+     This person on his trial by court-martial expressed, with an
+     oath, the wish that he might never hear of the United States
+     again.
+
+     The Court sentenced him to have his wish fulfilled.
+
+     For the present, the execution of the order is intrusted by
+     the President to this Department.
+
+     You will take the prisoner on board your ship, and keep him
+     there with such precautions as shall prevent his escape.
+
+     You will provide him with such quarters, rations, and
+     clothing as would be proper for an officer of his late rank,
+     if he were a passenger on your vessel on the business of his
+     Government.
+
+     The gentlemen on board will make any arrangements agreeable
+     to themselves regarding his society. He is to be exposed to
+     no indignity of any kind, nor is he ever unnecessarily to be
+     reminded that he is a prisoner.
+
+     But under no circumstances is he ever to hear of his country
+     or to see any information regarding it; and you will
+     especially caution all the officers under your command to
+     take care, that, in the various indulgences which may be
+     granted, this rule, in which his punishment is involved,
+     shall not be broken.
+
+     It is the intention of the Government that he shall never
+     again see the country which he has disowned. Before the end
+     of your cruise you will receive orders which will give
+     effect to this intention.
+
+                          Respectfully yours,
+                               W. SOUTHARD, for the
+                                    Secretary of the Navy.
+
+If I had only preserved the whole of this paper, there would be no
+break in the beginning of my sketch of this story. For Captain Shaw,
+if it were he, handed it to his successor in the charge, and he to
+his, and I suppose the commander of the _Levant_ has it to-day as his
+authority for keeping this man in this mild custody.
+
+The rule adopted on board the ships on which I have met "the man
+without a country" was, I think, transmitted from the beginning. No
+mess liked to have him permanently, because his presence cut off all
+talk of home or the prospect of return, of politics or letters, of
+peace or of war--cut off more than half the talk men liked to have at
+sea. But it was always thought too hard that he should never meet the
+rest of us, except to touch hats, and we finally sank into one system.
+He was not permitted to talk with the men, unless an officer was by.
+With officers he had unrestrained intercourse, as far as they and he
+chose. But he grew shy, though he had favourites: I was one. Then the
+captain always asked him to dinner on Monday. Every mess in succession
+took up the invitation in its turn. According to the size of the ship,
+you had him at your mess more or less often at dinner. His breakfast
+he ate in his own state-room--he always had a state-room--which was
+where a sentinel or somebody on the watch could see the door. And
+whatever else he ate or drank, he ate or drank alone. Sometimes, when
+the marines or sailors had any special jollification, they were
+permitted to invite "Plain-Buttons," as they called him. Then Nolan
+was sent with some officer, and the men were forbidden to speak of
+home while he was there. I believe the theory was that the sight of
+his punishment did them good. They called him "Plain-Buttons,"
+because, while he always chose to wear a regulation army-uniform, he
+was not permitted to wear the army-button, for the reason that it bore
+either the initials or the insignia of the country he had disowned.
+
+I remember, soon after I joined the navy, I was on shore with some of
+the older officers from our ship and from the _Brandywine_, which we
+had met at Alexandria. We had leave to make a party and go up to Cairo
+and the Pyramids. As we jogged along (you went on donkeys then), some
+of the gentlemen (we boys called them "Dons," but the phrase was long
+since changed) fell to talking about Nolan, and someone told the
+system which was adopted from the first about his books and other
+reading. As he was almost never permitted to go on shore, even though
+the vessel lay in port for months, his time at the best hung heavy;
+and everybody was permitted to lend him books, if they were not
+published in America and made no allusion to it. These were common
+enough in the old days, when people in the other hemisphere talked of
+the United States as little as we do of Paraguay. He had almost all
+the foreign papers that came into the ship, sooner or later; only
+somebody must go over them first, and cut out any advertisement or
+stray paragraph that alluded to America. This was a little cruel
+sometimes, when the back of what was cut out might be as innocent as
+Hesiod. Right in the midst of one of Napoleon's battles, or one of
+Canning's speeches, poor Nolan would find a great hole, because on the
+back of the page of that paper there had been an advertisement of a
+packet for New York, or a scrap from the President's message. I say
+this was the first time I ever heard of this plan, which afterwards I
+had enough and more than enough to do with. I remember it, because
+poor Phillips, who was of the party, as soon as the allusion to
+reading was made, told a story of something which happened at the Cape
+of Good Hope on Nolan's first voyage; and it is the only thing I ever
+knew of that voyage. They had touched at the Cape, and had done the
+civil thing with the English Admiral and the fleet, and then, leaving
+for a long cruise up the Indian Ocean, Phillips had borrowed a lot of
+English books from an officer, which, in those days, as indeed in
+these, was quite a windfall. Among them, as the Devil would order, was
+the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," which they had all of them heard of,
+but which most of them had never seen. I think it could not have been
+published long. Well, nobody thought there could be any risk of
+anything national in that, though Phillips swore old Shaw had cut out
+the "Tempest" from Shakespeare before he let Nolan have it, because he
+said "the Bermudas ought to be ours, and, by Jove, should be one day."
+So Nolan was permitted to join the circle one afternoon when a lot of
+them sat on deck smoking and reading aloud. People do not do such
+things so often now; but when I was young we got rid of a great deal
+of time so. Well, so it happened that in his turn Nolan took the book
+and read to the others; and he read very well, as I know. Nobody in
+the circle knew a line of the poem, only it was all magic and Border
+chivalry, and was ten thousand years ago. Poor Nolan read steadily
+through the fifth canto, stopped a minute and drank something, and
+then began, without a thought of what was coming:
+
+"Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
+ Who never to himself hath said,"--
+
+It seems impossible to us that anybody ever heard this for the first
+time; but all these fellows did then, and poor Nolan himself went on,
+still unconsciously or mechanically--
+
+"This is my own, my native land!"
+
+Then they all saw that something was to pay; but he expected to get
+through, I suppose, turned a little pale, but plunged on,
+
+"Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
+  As home his footsteps he hath turned
+From wandering on a foreign strand?--
+  If such there breathe, go, mark him well--"
+
+By this time the men were all beside themselves, wishing there was
+any way to make him turn over two pages; but he had not quite presence
+of mind for that; he gagged a little, coloured crimson, and staggered
+on--
+
+"For him no minstrel raptures swell;
+High though his titles, proud his name.
+Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,
+Despite these titles, power, and pelf,
+The wretch, concentred all in self--"
+
+and here the poor fellow choked, could not go on, but started up,
+swung the book into the sea, vanished into his state-room, "And by
+Jove," said Phillips, "we did not see him for two months again. And I
+had to make up some beggarly story to that English surgeon why I did
+not return his Walter Scott to him."
+
+That story shows about the time when Nolan's braggadocio must have
+broken down. At first, they said, he took a very high tone, considered
+his imprisonment a mere farce, affected to enjoy the voyage, and all
+that; but Phillips said that after he came out of his state-room he
+never was the same man again. He never read aloud again unless it was
+the Bible or Shakespeare, or something else he was sure of. But it was
+not that merely. He never entered in with the other young men exactly
+as a companion again. He was always shy afterwards, when I knew
+him--very seldom spoke, unless he was spoken to, except to a very few
+friends. He lighted up occasionally--I remember late in his life
+hearing him fairly eloquent on something which had been suggested to
+him by one of Fléchier's sermons--but generally he had the nervous,
+tired look of a heart-wounded man.
+
+When Captain Shaw was coming home--if, as I say, it was Shaw--rather
+to the surprise of everybody they made one of the Windward Islands,
+and lay off and on for nearly a week. The boys said the officers were
+sick of salt-junk, and meant to have turtle-soup before they came
+home. But after several days the _Warren_ came to the same rendezvous;
+they exchanged signals; she sent to Phillips and these homeward-bound
+men letters and papers, and told them she was outward-bound, perhaps
+to the Mediterranean, and took poor Nolan and his traps on the boat
+back to try his second cruise. He looked very blank when he was told
+to get ready to join her. He had known enough of the signs of the sky
+to know that till that moment he was going "home." But this was a
+distinct evidence of something he had not thought of, perhaps--that
+there was no going home for him, even to a prison. And this was the
+first of some twenty such transfers, which brought him sooner or later
+into half our best vessels, but which kept him all his life at least
+some hundred miles from the country he had hoped he might never hear
+of again.
+
+It may have been on that second cruise--it was once when he was up the
+Mediterranean,--that Mrs. Graff, the celebrated Southern beauty of
+those days, danced with him. They had been lying a long time in the
+Bay of Naples, and the officers were very intimate in the English
+fleet, and there had been great festivities, and our men thought they
+must give a great ball on board the ship. How they ever did it on
+board the _Warren_ I am sure I do not know. Perhaps it was not the
+_Warren_, or perhaps ladies did not take up so much room as they do
+now. They wanted to use Nolan's state-room for something, and they
+hated to do it without asking him to the ball; so the captain said
+they might ask him, if they would be responsible that he did not talk
+with the wrong people, "who would give him intelligence." So the dance
+went on, the finest party that had ever been known, I dare say; for I
+never heard of a man-of-war ball that was not. For ladies they had the
+family of the American consul, one or two travellers who had
+adventured so far, and a nice bevy of English girls and matrons,
+perhaps Lady Hamilton herself.
+
+Well, different officers relieved each other in standing and talking
+with Nolan in a friendly way, so as to be sure that nobody else spoke
+to him. The dancing went on with spirit, and after a while even the
+fellows who took this honorary guard of Nolan ceased to fear any
+_contretemps_. Only when some English lady--Lady Hamilton, as I said,
+perhaps--called for a set of "American dances," an odd thing happened.
+Everybody then danced contra-dances. The black band, nothing loath,
+conferred as to what "American dances" were, and started off with
+"Virginia Reel," which they followed with "Money Musk," which, in its
+turn in those days, should have been followed by "The Old Thirteen."
+But just as Dick, the leader, tapped for his fiddles to begin, and
+bent forward, about to say, in true negro state, "'The Old Thirteen,'
+gentlemen and ladies!" as he had said "'Virginny Reel,' if you
+please!" and "'Money-Musk,' if you please!" the captain's boy tapped
+him on the shoulder, whispered to him, and he did not announce the
+name of the dance; he merely bowed, began on the air, and they all
+fell to--the officers teaching the English girls the figure, but not
+telling them why it had no name.
+
+But that is not the story I started to tell. As the dancing went on,
+Nolan and our fellows all got at ease, as I said: so much so, that it
+seemed quite natural for him to bow to that splendid Mrs. Graff and
+say:
+
+"I hope you have not forgotten me, Miss Rutledge. Shall I have the
+honour of dancing?"
+
+He did it so quickly, that Fellows, who was with him, could not
+hinder him. She laughed and said:
+
+"I am not Miss Rutledge any longer, Mr. Nolan; but I will dance all
+the same," just nodded to Fellows, as if to say he must leave Mr.
+Nolan to her, and led him off to the place where the dance was
+forming.
+
+Nolan thought he had got his chance. He had known her at Philadelphia,
+and at other places had met her, and this was a godsend. You could not
+talk in contra-dances as you do in cotillions, or even in the pauses
+of waltzing; but there were chances for tongues and sounds, as well as
+for eyes and blushes. He began with her travels, and Europe, and
+Vesuvius, and the French; and then, when they had worked down, and had
+that long talking time at the bottom of the set, he said boldly--a
+little pale, she said, as she told me the story years after--
+
+"And what do you hear from home, Mrs. Graff?"
+
+And that splendid creature looked through him. Jove! how she must have
+looked through him!
+
+"Home!! Mr. Nolan!!! I thought you were the man who never wanted to
+hear of home again!"--and she walked directly up the deck to her
+husband, and left poor Nolan alone, as he always was.--He did not
+dance again. I cannot give any history of him in order; nobody can
+now; and, indeed, I am not trying to.
+
+These are the traditions, which I sort out, as I believe them, from
+the myths which have been told about this man for forty years. The
+lies that have been told about him are legion. The fellows used to say
+he was the "Iron Mask;" and poor George Pons went to his grave in the
+belief that this was the author of "Junius," who was being punished
+for his celebrated libel on Thomas Jefferson. Pons was not very strong
+in the historical line.
+
+A happier story than either of these I have told is of the war. That
+came along soon after. I have heard this affair told in three or four
+ways--and, indeed, it may have happened more than once. But which ship
+it was on I cannot tell. However, in one at least, of the great
+frigate-duels with the English, in which the navy was really baptised,
+it happened that a round-shot from the enemy entered one of our ports
+square, and took right down the officer of the gun himself, and almost
+every man of the gun's crew. Now you may say what you choose about
+courage, but that is not a nice thing to see. But, as the men who were
+not killed picked themselves up, and as they and the surgeon's people
+were carrying off the bodies, there appeared Nolan, in his
+shirt-sleeves, with the rammer in his hand, and, just as if he had
+been the officer, told them off with authority--who should go to the
+cock-pit with the wounded men, who should stay with him--perfectly
+cheery, and with that way which makes men feel sure all is right and
+is going to be right. And he finished loading the gun with his own
+hands, aimed it, and bade the men fire. And there he stayed, captain
+of that gun, keeping those fellows in spirits, till the enemy
+struck--sitting on the carriage while the gun was cooling, though he
+was exposed all the time--showing them easier ways to handle heavy
+shot--making the raw hands laugh at their own blunders--and when the
+gun cooled again, getting it loaded and fired twice as often as any
+other gun on the ship. The captain walked forward by way of
+encouraging the men, and Nolan touched his hat and said:
+
+"I am showing them how we do this in the artillery, sir."
+
+And this is the part of the story where all the legends agree; the
+commodore said:
+
+"I see you do, and I thank you, sir; and I shall never forget this
+day, sir, and you never shall, sir."
+
+And after the whole thing was over, and he had the Englishman's
+sword, in the midst of the state and ceremony of the quarter-deck, he
+said:
+
+"Where is Mr. Nolan? Ask Mr. Nolan to come here."
+
+And when Nolan came, he said:
+
+"Mr. Nolan, we are all very grateful to you to-day; you are one of us
+to-day; you will be named in the despatches."
+
+And then the old man took off his own sword of ceremony, and gave it
+to Nolan, and made him put it on. The man told me this who saw it.
+Nolan cried like a baby, and well he might. He had not worn a sword
+since that infernal day at Fort Adams. But always afterwards on
+occasions of ceremony, he wore that quaint old French sword of the
+commodore's.
+
+The captain did mention him in the despatches. It was always said he
+asked that he might be pardoned. He wrote a special letter to the
+Secretary of War. But nothing ever came of it. As I said, that was
+about the time when they began to ignore the whole transaction at
+Washington, and when Nolan's imprisonment began to carry itself on
+because there was nobody to stop it without any new orders from home.
+
+I have heard it said that he was with Porter when he took possession
+of the Nukahiwa Islands. Not this Porter, you know, but old Porter,
+his father, Essex Porter--that is, the old Essex Porter, not this
+Essex. As an artillery officer, who had seen service in the West,
+Nolan knew more about fortifications, embrasures, ravelins, stockades,
+and all that, than any of them did; and he worked with a right
+goodwill in fixing that battery all right. I have always thought it
+was a pity Porter did not leave him in command there with Gamble. That
+would have settled all the question about his punishment. We should
+have kept the islands, and at this moment we should have one station
+in the Pacific Ocean. Our French friends, too, when they wanted this
+little watering-place, would have found it was preoccupied. But
+Madison and the Virginians, of course, flung all that away.
+
+All that was near fifty years ago. If Nolan was thirty then, he must
+have been near eighty when he died. He looked sixty when he was forty.
+But he never seemed to me to change a hair afterwards. As I imagine
+his life, from what I have seen and heard of it, he must have been in
+every sea, and yet almost never on land. He must have known, in a
+formal way, more officers in our service than any man living knows. He
+told me once, with a grave smile, that no man in the world lived so
+methodical a life as he. "You know the boys say I am the Iron Mask,
+and you know how busy he was." He said it did not do for anyone to try
+to read all the time, more than to do anything else all the time; and
+that he used to read just five hours a day. "Then," he said, "I keep
+up my note-books, writing in them at such and such hours from what I
+have been reading; and I include in these my scrap-books." These were
+very curious indeed. He had six or eight, of different subjects. There
+was one of History, one of Natural Science, one which he called "Odds
+and Ends." But they were not merely books of extracts from newspapers.
+They had bits of plants and ribbons, shells tied on, and carved scraps
+of bone and wood, which he had taught the men to cut for him, and they
+were beautifully illustrated. He drew admirably. He had some of the
+funniest drawings there, and some of the most pathetic, that I have
+ever seen in my life. I wonder who will have Nolan's scrap-books.
+
+Well, he said his reading and his notes were his profession, and that
+they took five hours and two hours respectively of each day. "Then,"
+said he, "every man should have a diversion as well as a profession.
+My Natural History is my diversion." That took two hours a day more.
+The men used to bring him birds and fish, but on a long cruise he had
+to satisfy himself with centipedes and cockroaches and such small
+game. He was the only naturalist I ever met who knew anything about
+the habits of the house-fly and the mosquito. All those people can
+tell you whether they are _Lepidoptera_ or _Steptopotera_; but as for
+telling how you can get rid of them, or how they get away from you
+when you strike them--why Linnæus knew as little of that as John Foy
+the idiot did. These nine hours made Nolan's regular daily
+"occupation." The rest of the time he talked or walked. Till he grew
+very old, he went aloft a great deal. He always kept up his exercise;
+and I never heard that he was ill. If any other man was ill, he was
+the kindest nurse in the world; and he knew more than half the
+surgeons do. Then if anybody was sick or died, or if the captain
+wanted him to, on any other occasion, he was always ready to read
+prayers. I have said that he read beautifully.
+
+My own acquaintance with Philip Nolan began six or eight years after
+the English war, on my first voyage after I was appointed a
+midshipman. It was in the first days after our Slave-Trade treaty,
+while the Reigning House, which was still the House of Virginia, had
+still a sort of sentimentalism about the suppression of the horrors of
+the Middle Passage, and something was sometimes done that way. We were
+in the South Atlantic on that business. From the time I joined, I
+believe I thought Nolan was a sort of lay chaplain--a chaplain with a
+blue coat. I never asked about him. Everything in the ship was strange
+to me. I knew it was green to ask questions, and I suppose I thought
+there was a "Plain-Buttons" on every ship. We had him to dine in our
+mess once a week, and the caution was given that on that day nothing
+was to be said about home. But if they had told us not to say anything
+about the planet Mars or the Book of Deuteronomy, I should not have
+asked why; there were a great many things which seemed to me to have
+as little reason. I first came to understand anything about "the man
+without a country" one day when we overhauled a dirty little schooner
+which had slaves on board. An officer was sent to take charge of her,
+and, after a few minutes, he sent back his boat to ask that someone
+might be sent him who could speak Portuguese. We were all looking over
+the rail when the message came, and we all wished we could interpret,
+when the captain asked who spoke Portuguese. But none of the officers
+did; and just as the captain was sending forward to ask if any of the
+people could, Nolan stepped out and said he should be glad to
+interpret, if the captain wished, as he understood the language. The
+captain thanked him, fitted out another boat with him, and in this
+boat it was my luck to go.
+
+When we got there, it was such a scene as you seldom see, and never
+want to. Nastiness beyond account, and chaos run loose in the midst of
+the nastiness. There were not a great many of the negroes; but by way
+of making what there were understand that they were free, Vaughan had
+had their handcuffs, and ankle-cuffs knocked off, and, for
+convenience's sake, was putting them upon the rascals of the
+schooner's crew. The negroes were, most of them, out of the hold, and
+swarming all round the dirty deck, with a central throng surrounding
+Vaughan and addressing him in every dialect, and _patois_ of a
+dialect, from the Zulu click up to the Parisian of Beledeljereed.
+
+As we came on deck, Vaughan looked down from a hogshead, on which he
+had mounted in desperation, and said--
+
+"For God's love, is there anybody who can make these wretches
+understand something? The men gave them rum, and that did not quiet
+them. I knocked that big fellow down twice, and that did not soothe
+him. And then I talked Choctaw to all of them together; and I'll be
+hanged if they understood that as well as they understood the
+English."
+
+Nolan said he could speak Portuguese, and one or two fine-looking
+Kroomen were dragged out, who, as it had been found already, had
+worked for the Portuguese on the coast at Fernando Po.
+
+"Tell them they are free," said Vaughan; "and tell them that these
+rascals are to be hanged as soon as we can get rope enough."
+
+Nolan "put that into Spanish," that is, he explained it in such
+Portuguese as the Kroomen could understand, and they in turn to such
+of the negroes as could understand them. Then there was such a yell of
+delight, clinching of fists, leaping and dancing, kissing of Nolan's
+feet, and a general rush made to the hogshead by way of spontaneous
+worship of Vaughan, as the _deus ex machina_ of the occasion.
+
+"Tell them," said Vaughan, well pleased, "that I will take them all to
+Cape Palmas."
+
+This did not answer so well. Cape Palmas was practically as far from
+the homes of most of them as New Orleans or Rio Janeiro was; that is
+they would be eternally separated from home there. And their
+interpreters, as we could understand, instantly said, "_Ah, non
+Palmas_" and began to propose infinite other expedients in most
+voluble language. Vaughan was rather disappointed at this result of
+his liberality, and asked Nolan eagerly what they said. The drops
+stood on poor Nolan's white forehead, as he hushed the men down, and
+said:
+
+"He says, 'Not Palmas.' He says, 'Take us home, take us to our own
+country, take us to our own house, take us to our own pickaninnies and
+our own women.' He says he has an old father and mother who will die
+if they do not see him. And this one says he left his people all sick,
+and paddled down to Fernando to beg the white doctor to come and help
+them, and that these devils caught him in the bay just in sight of
+home, and that he has never seen anybody from home since then. And
+this one says," choked out Nolan, "that he has not heard a word from
+his home in six months, while he has been locked up in an infernal
+barracoon."
+
+Vaughan always said he grew gray himself while Nolan struggled through
+this interpretation. I, who did not understand anything of the passion
+involved in it, saw that the very elements were melting with fervent
+heat, and that something was to pay somewhere. Even the negroes
+themselves stopped howling, as they saw Nolan's agony, and Vaughan's
+almost equal agony of sympathy. As quick as he could get words, he
+said:
+
+"Tell them yes, yes, yes; tell them they shall go to the Mountains of
+the Moon, if they will. If I sail the schooner through the Great White
+Desert, they shall go home!"
+
+And after some fashion Nolan said so. And then they all fell to
+kissing him again, and wanted to rub his nose with theirs.
+
+But he could not stand it long; and getting Vaughan to say he might go
+back, he beckoned me down into our boat. As we lay back in the
+stern-sheets and the men gave way, he said to me: "Youngster, let that
+show you what it is to be without a family, without a home, and
+without a country. And if you are ever tempted to say a word or to do
+a thing that shall put a bar between you and your family, your home,
+and your country, pray God in His mercy to take you that instant home
+to His own heaven. Stick by your family, boy; forget you have a self,
+while you do everything for them. Think of your home, boy; write and
+send, and talk about it. Let it be nearer and nearer to your thought,
+the farther you have to travel from it; and rush back to it when you
+are free, as that poor black slave is doing now. And for your country,
+boy," and the words rattled in his throat, "and for that flag," and he
+pointed to the ship, "never dream a dream but of serving her as she
+bids you, though the service carry you through a thousand hells. No
+matter what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or who abuses
+you, never look at another flag, never let a night pass but you pray
+God to bless that flag. Remember, boy, that behind all these men you
+have to do with, behind officers, and government, and people even,
+there is the Country Herself, your Country, and that you belong to Her
+as you belong to your own mother. Stand by Her, boy, as you would
+stand by your mother, if those devils there had got hold of her
+to-day!"
+
+I was frightened to death by his, calm, hard passion; but I blundered
+out that I would, by all that was holy, and that I had never thought
+of doing anything else. He hardly seemed to hear me; but he did,
+almost in a whisper, say: "O, if anybody had said so to me when I was
+of your age!"
+
+I think it was this half-confidence of his, which I never abused, for
+I never told this story till now, which afterward made us great
+friends. He was very kind to me. Often he sat up, or even got up, at
+night, to walk the deck with me, when it was my watch. He explained to
+me a great deal of my mathematics, and I owe to him my taste for
+mathematics. He lent me books, and helped me about my reading. He
+never alluded so directly to his story again; but from one and another
+officer I have learned, in thirty years, what I am telling. When we
+parted from him in St. Thomas harbour, at the end of our cruise, I was
+more sorry than I can tell. I was very glad to meet him again in 1830;
+and later in life, when I thought I had some influence in Washington,
+I moved heaven and earth to have him discharged. But it was like
+getting a ghost out of prison. They pretended there was no such man,
+and never was such a man. They will say so at the Department now!
+Perhaps they do not know. It will not be the first thing in the
+service of which the Department appears to know nothing!
+
+There is a story that Nolan met Burr once on one of our vessels, when
+a party of Americans came on board in the Mediterranean. But this I
+believe to be a lie; or, rather, it is a myth, _ben trovato_,
+involving a tremendous blowing-up with which he sunk Burr,--asking him
+how he liked to be "without a country." But it is clear from Burr's
+life, that nothing of the sort could have happened; and I mention this
+only as an illustration of the stories which get a-going where there
+is the least mystery at bottom.
+
+Philip Nolan, poor fellow, repented of his folly, and then, like a
+man, submitted to the fate he had asked for. He never intentionally
+added to the difficulty or delicacy of the charge of those who had him
+in hold. Accidents would happen; but never from his fault. Lieutenant
+Truxton told me that, when Texas was annexed, there was a careful
+discussion among the officers, whether they should get hold of Nolan's
+handsome set of maps and cut Texas out of it--from the map of the
+world and the map of Mexico. The United States had been cut out when
+the atlas was bought for him. But it was voted, rightly enough, that
+to do this would be virtually to reveal to him what had happened, or,
+as Harry Cole said, to make him think Old Burr had succeeded. So it
+was from no fault of Nolan's that a great botch happened at my own
+table, when, for a short time, I was in command of the _George
+Washington_ corvette, on the South American station. We were lying in
+the La Plata, and some of the officers, who had been on shore and had
+just joined again, were entertaining us with accounts of their
+misadventures in riding the half-wild horses of Buenos Ayres. Nolan
+was at table, and was in an unusually bright and talkative mood. Some
+story of a tumble reminded him of an adventure of his own when he was
+catching wild horses in Texas with his adventurous cousin, at a time
+when he must have been quite a boy. He told the story with a good deal
+of spirit--so much so, that the silence which often follows a good
+story hung over the table for an instant, to be broken by Nolan
+himself. For he asked perfectly unconsciously:
+
+"Pray, what has become of Texas? After the Mexicans got their
+independence, I thought that province of Texas would come forward very
+fast. It is really one of the finest regions on earth; it is the Italy
+of this continent. But I have not seen or heard a word of Texas for
+nearly twenty years."
+
+There were two Texan officers at the table. The reason he had never
+heard of Texas was that Texas and her affairs had been painfully cut
+out of his newspapers since Austin began his settlements; so that,
+while he read of Honduras and Tamaulipas, and, till quite lately, of
+California--this virgin province, in which his brother had travelled
+so far, and I believe, had died, had ceased to be to him. Waters and
+Williams, the two Texas men, looked grimly at each other and tried not
+to laugh. Edward Morris had his attention attracted by the third link
+in the chain of the captain's chandelier. Watrous was seized with a
+convulsion of sneezing. Nolan himself saw that something was to pay,
+he did not know what. And I, as master of the feast, had to say:
+
+"Texas is out of the map, Mr. Nolan. Have you seen Captain Back's
+curious account of Sir Thomas Roe's Welcome?"
+
+After that cruise I never saw Nolan again. I wrote to him at least
+twice a year, for in that voyage we became even confidentially
+intimate; but he never wrote to me. The other men tell me that in
+those fifteen years he _aged_ very fast, as well he might indeed, but
+that he was still the same gentle, uncomplaining, silent sufferer that
+he ever was, bearing as best he could his self-appointed
+punishment--rather less social, perhaps, with new men whom he did not
+know, but more anxious, apparently, than ever to serve and befriend
+and teach the boys, some of whom fairly seemed to worship him. And now
+it seems the dear old fellow is dead. He has found a home at last, and
+a country.
+
+Since writing this, and while considering whether or not I would print
+it, as a warning to the young Nolans and Vallandighams and Tatnalls of
+to-day of what it is to throw away a country, I have received from
+Danforth, who is on board the _Levant_, a letter which gives an
+account of Nolan's last hours. It removes all my doubts about telling
+this story.
+
+The reader will understand Danforth's letter, or the beginning of it,
+if he will remember that after ten years of Nolan's exile everyone who
+had him in charge was in a very delicate position. The government had
+failed to renew the order of 1807 regarding him. What was a man to do?
+Should he let him go? What, then, if he were called to account by the
+Department for violating the order of 1807? Should he keep him? What,
+then, if Nolan should be liberated some day, and should bring an
+action of false imprisonment or kidnapping against every man who had
+had him in charge? I urged and pressed this upon Southard, and I have
+reason to think that other officers did the same thing. But the
+Secretary always said, as they so often do at Washington, that there
+were no special orders to give, and that we must act on our own
+judgment. That means, "If you succeed, you will be sustained; if you
+fail, you will be disavowed." Well, as Danforth says, all that is over
+now, though I do not know but I expose myself to a criminal
+prosecution on the evidence of the very revelation I am making.
+
+Here is the letter:
+
+                           LEVANT, 2° 2' S. at 131° W.
+
+     DEAR FRED:
+
+     I try to find heart and life to tell you that it is all over
+     with dear old Nolan. I have been with him on this voyage
+     more than I ever was, and I can understand wholly now the
+     way in which you used to speak of the dear old fellow. I
+     could see that he was not strong, but I had no idea the end
+     was so near. The doctor has been watching him very
+     carefully, and yesterday morning came to me and told me that
+     Nolan was not so well, and had not left his state-room--a
+     thing I never remember before. He had let the doctor come
+     and see him as he lay there--the first time the doctor had
+     been in the state-room--and he said he should like to see
+     me. Oh, dear! do you remember the mysteries we boys used to
+     invent about his room in the old _Intrepid_ days? Well, I
+     went in, and there, to be sure, the poor fellow lay in his
+     berth, smiling pleasantly as he gave me his hand, but
+     looking very frail. I could not help a glance round, which
+     showed me what a little shrine he had made of the box he was
+     lying in. The Stars and Stripes were triced up above and
+     around a picture of Washington, and he had painted a
+     majestic eagle, with lightnings blazing from his beak and
+     his foot just clasping the whole globe, which his wings
+     overshadowed. The dear old boy saw my glance, and said, with
+     a sad smile, "Here, you see, I have a country!" And then he
+     pointed to the foot of his bed, where I had not seen before
+     a great map of the United States, as he had drawn it from
+     memory, and which he had there to look upon as he lay.
+     Quaint, queer old names were on it, in large letters:
+     "Indiana Territory," "Mississippi Territory," and "Louisiana
+     Territory." I suppose our fathers learned such things: but
+     the old fellow had patched in Texas, too; he had carried his
+     western boundary all the way to the Pacific, but on that
+     shore he had defined nothing.
+
+     "O Captain," he said, "I know I am dying. I cannot get home.
+     Surely you will tell me something now?--Stop! stop! Do not
+     speak till I say what I am sure you know, that there is not
+     in this ship, that there is not in America--God bless
+     her!--a more loyal man than I. There cannot be a man who
+     loves the old flag as I do, or prays for it as I do, or
+     hopes for it as I do. There are thirty-four stars in it now,
+     Danforth. I thank God for that, though I do not know what
+     their names are. There has never been one taken away: I
+     thank God for that. I know by that that there has never been
+     any successful Burr, O Danforth, Danforth," he sighed out,
+     "how like a wretched night's dream a boy's idea of personal
+     fame or of separate sovereignty seems; when one looks back
+     on it after such a life as mine! But tell me--tell me
+     something--tell me everything, Danforth, before I die!"
+
+     Ingham, I swear to you that I felt like a monster that I had
+     not told him everything before. Danger or no danger,
+     delicacy or no delicacy, who was I, that I should have been
+     acting the tyrant all this time over this dear, sainted old
+     man, who had years ago expiated, in his whole manhood's
+     life, the madness of a boy's treason? "Mr. Nolan," said I,
+     "I will tell you everything you ask about. Only, where shall
+     I begin?"
+
+     Oh, the blessed smile that crept over his white face! and he
+     pressed my hand and said, "God bless you! Tell me their
+     names," he said, and he pointed to the stars on the flag.
+     "The last I know is Ohio. My father lived in Kentucky. But I
+     have guessed Michigan and Indiana and Mississippi--that was
+     where Fort Adams is--they make twenty. But where are your
+     other fourteen? You have not cut up any of the old ones, I
+     hope?"
+
+     Well, that was not a bad text, and I told him the names in
+     as good order as I could, and he bade me take down his
+     beautiful map and draw them in as I best could with my
+     pencil. He was wild with delight about Texas, told me how
+     his cousin died there; he had marked a gold cross near where
+     he supposed his grave was; and he had guessed at Texas. Then
+     he was delighted as he saw California and Oregon,--that, he
+     said, he had suspected partly, because he had never been
+     permitted to land on that shore, though the ships were there
+     so much. "And the men," said he, laughing, "brought off a
+     good deal beside furs." Then he went back--heavens, how
+     far!--to ask about the _Chesapeake_, and what was done to
+     Barron for surrendering her to the _Leopard_, and whether
+     Burr ever tried again--and he ground his teeth with the only
+     passion he showed. But in a moment that was over, and he
+     said, "God forgive me, for I am sure I forgive him." Then he
+     asked about the old war--told me the true story of his
+     serving the gun the day we took the _Java_--asked about dear
+     old David Porter, as he called him. Then he settled down
+     more quietly, and very happily, to hear me tell in an hour
+     the history of fifty years.
+
+     How I wished it had been somebody who knew something! But I
+     did as well as I could. I told him of the English war. I
+     told him about Fulton and the steamboat beginning. I told
+     him about old Scott, and Jackson; told him all I could think
+     of about the Mississippi, and New Orleans, and Texas, and
+     his own old Kentucky. And do you think, he asked who was in
+     command of the "Legion of the West." I told him it was a
+     very gallant officer named Grant, and that, by our last
+     news, he was about to establish his headquarters at
+     Vicksburg. Then, "Where was Vicksburg?" I worked that out on
+     the map; it was about a hundred miles, more or less, above
+     his old Fort Adams and I thought Fort Adams must be a ruin
+     now. "It must be at old Vick's plantation, at Walnut Hills,"
+     said he: "well, that is a change!"
+
+     I tell you, Ingham, it was a hard thing to condense the
+     history of half a century into that talk with a sick man.
+     And I do not now know what I told him--of emigration, and
+     the means of it--of steamboats, and railroads, and
+     telegraphs--of inventions, and books, and literature--of the
+     colleges, and West Point, and the Naval School--but with the
+     queerest interruptions that ever you heard. You see it was
+     Robinson Crusoe asking all the accumulated questions of
+     fifty-six years!
+
+     I remember he asked, all of a sudden, who was President now;
+     and when I told him, he asked if Old Abe was General
+     Benjamin Lincoln's son. He said he met old General Lincoln,
+     when he was quite a boy himself, at some Indian treaty. I
+     said no, that Old Abe was a Kentuckian like himself, but I
+     could not tell him of what family; he had worked up from the
+     ranks. "Good for him!" cried Nolan; "I am glad of that. As I
+     have brooded and wondered, I have thought our danger was in
+     keeping up those regular successions in the first families."
+     Then I got talking about my visit to Washington. I told him
+     of meeting the Oregon Congressman, Harding; I told him about
+     the Smithsonian, and the Exploring Expedition; I told him
+     about the Capitol and the statues for the pediment, and
+     Crawford's Liberty, and Greenough's Washington: Ingham, I
+     told him everything I could think of that would show the
+     grandeur of his country and its prosperity; but I could not
+     make up my mouth to tell him a word about this infernal
+     rebellion!
+
+     And he drank it in and enjoyed it as I cannot tell you. He
+     grew more and more silent, yet I never thought he was tired
+     or faint. I gave him a glass of water, but he just wet his
+     lips, and told me not to go away. Then he asked me to bring
+     the Presbyterian "Book of Public Prayer" which lay there,
+     and said, with a smile, that it would open at the right
+     place--and so it did. There was his double red mark down the
+     page; and I knelt down and read, and he repeated with me,
+     "For ourselves and our country, O gracious God, we thank
+     Thee, that, notwithstanding our manifold transgressions of
+     Thy holy laws, Thou hast continued to us Thy marvellous
+     kindness," and so to the end of that thanksgiving. Then he
+     turned to the end of the same book, and I read the words
+     more familiar to me: "Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy
+     favour to behold and bless Thy servant, the President of the
+     United States, and all others in authority"--and the rest of
+     the Episcopal collect. "Danforth," said he "I have repeated
+     these prayers night and morning, it is now fifty-five
+     years." And then he said he would go to sleep. He bent me
+     down over him and kissed me; and he said, "Look in my Bible,
+     Captain, when I am gone." And I went away.
+
+     But I had no thought it was the end. I thought he was tired
+     and would sleep. I knew he was happy, and I wanted him to be
+     alone.
+
+     But in an hour, when the doctor went in gently, he found
+     Nolan had breathed his life away with a smile. He had
+     something pressed close to his lips. It was his father's
+     badge of the Order of the Cincinnati.
+
+     We looked in his Bible, and there was a slip of paper at the
+     place where he had marked the text--
+
+     "They desire a country, even a heavenly: wherefore God is
+     not ashamed to be called their God: for He hath prepared for
+     them a city."
+
+     On this slip of paper he had written:
+
+     "Bury me in the sea; it has been my home, and I love it. But
+     will not someone set up a stone for my memory at Fort Adams
+     or at Orleans, that my disgrace may not be more than I
+     ought to bear? Say on it:
+
+                    "_In Memory of_
+
+                    "PHILIP NOLAN,
+     "_Lieutenant in the Army of the United States._
+
+     "He loved his country as no other man has
+        loved her; but no man deserved less at
+                      her hands."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE NÜRNBERG STOVE
+
+
+August lived in a little town called Hall. Hall is a favourite name
+for several towns in Austria and in Germany; but this one especial
+little Hall, in the Upper Innthal, is one of the most charming
+Old-World places that I know, and August for his part did not know any
+other. It has the green meadows and the great mountains all about it,
+and the gray-green glacier-fed water rushes by it. It has paved
+streets and enchanting little shops that have all latticed panes and
+iron gratings to them; it has a very grand old Gothic church, that has
+the noblest blendings of light and shadow, and marble tombs of dead
+knights, and a look of infinite strength and repose as a church should
+have. Then there is the Muntze Tower, black and white, rising out of
+greenery and looking down on a long wooden bridge and the broad rapid
+river; and there is an old schloss which has been made into a
+guard-house, with battlements and frescoes and heraldic devices in
+gold and colours, and a man-at-arms carved in stone standing life-size
+in his niche and bearing his date 1530. A little farther on, but close
+at hand, is a cloister with beautiful marble columns and tombs, and a
+colossal wood-carved Calvary, and beside that a small and very rich
+chapel: indeed, so full is the little town of the undisturbed past,
+that to walk in it is like opening a missal of the Middle Ages, all
+emblazoned and illuminated with saints and warriors, and it is so
+clean, and so still, and so noble, by reason of its monuments and its
+historic colour, that I marvel much no one has ever cared to sing its
+praises. The old pious heroic life of an age at once more restful and
+more brave than ours still leaves its spirit there, and then there is
+the girdle of the mountains all around, and that alone means strength,
+peace, majesty.
+
+In this little town a few years ago August Strehla lived with his
+people in the stone-paved irregular square where the grand church
+stands.
+
+He was a small boy of nine years at that time--a chubby-faced little
+man with rosy cheeks, big hazel eyes, and clusters of curls the brown
+of ripe nuts. His mother was dead, his father was poor, and there were
+many mouths at home to feed. In this country the winters are long and
+very cold, the whole land lies wrapped in snow for many months, and
+this night that he was trotting home, with a jug of beer in his numb
+red hands, was terribly cold and dreary. The good burghers of Hall had
+shut their double shutters, and the few lamps there were flickered
+dully behind their quaint, old-fashioned iron casings. The mountains
+indeed were beautiful, all snow-white under the stars that are so big
+in frost. Hardly anyone was astir; a few good souls wending home from
+vespers, a tired post-boy who blew a shrill blast from his tasseled
+horn as he pulled up his sledge before a hostelry, and little August
+hugging his jug of beer to his ragged sheepskin coat, were all who
+were abroad, for the snow fell heavily and the good folks of Hall go
+early to their beds. He could not run, or he would have spilled the
+beer; he was half frozen and a little frightened, but he kept up his
+courage by saying over and over again to himself, "I shall soon be at
+home with dear Hirschvogel."
+
+He went on through the streets, past the stone man-at-arms of the
+guard-house, and so into the place where the great church was, and
+where near it stood his father Karl Strehla's house, with a sculptured
+Bethlehem over the doorway, and the Pilgrimage of the Three Kings
+painted on its wall. He had been sent on a long errand outside the
+gates in the afternoon, over the frozen fields and broad white snow,
+and had been belated, and had thought he had heard the wolves behind
+him at every step, and had reached the town in a great state of
+terror, thankful with all his little panting heart to see the oil-lamp
+burning under the first house-shrine. But he had not forgotten to call
+for the beer, and he carried it carefully now, though his hands were
+so numb that he was afraid they would let the jug down every moment.
+
+The snow outlined with white every gable and cornice of the beautiful
+old wooden houses; the moonlight shone on the gilded signs, the lambs,
+the grapes, the eagles, and all the quaint devices that hung before
+the doors; covered lamps burned before the Nativities and Crucifixions
+painted on the walls or let into the wood-work; here and there, where
+a shutter had not been closed, a ruddy fire-light lit up a homely
+interior, with the noisy band of children clustering round the
+house-mother and a big brown loaf, or some gossips spinning and
+listening to the cobbler's or the barber's story of a neighbour, while
+the oil-wicks glimmered, and the hearth-logs blazed, and the chestnuts
+sputtered in their iron roasting-pot. Little August saw all these
+things as he saw everything with his two big bright eyes that had such
+curious lights and shadows in them; but he went heedfully on his way
+for the sake of the beer which a single slip of the foot would make
+him spill. At his knock and call the solid oak door, four centuries
+old if one, flew open, and the boy darted in with his beer, and
+shouted, with all the force of mirthful lungs, "Oh, dear Hirschvogel,
+but for the thought of you I should have died!"
+
+It was a large barren room into which he rushed with so much pleasure,
+and the bricks were bare and uneven. It had a walnut-wood press,
+handsome and very old, a broad deal table, and several wooden stools
+for all its furniture; but at the top of the chamber, sending out
+warmth and colour together as the lamp sheds its rays upon it, was a
+tower of porcelain, burnished with all the hues of a king's peacock
+and a queen's jewels, and surmounted with armed figures, and shields,
+and flowers of heraldry, and a great golden crown upon the highest
+summit of all.
+
+It was a stove of 1532, and on it were the letters H.R.H., for it was
+in every portion the handwork of the great potter of Nürnberg,
+Augustin Hirschvogel, who put his mark thus, as all the world knows.
+
+The stove no doubt had stood in palaces and been made for princes, had
+warmed the crimson stockings of cardinals and the gold-broidered shoes
+of archduchesses, had glowed in presence-chambers and lent its carbon
+to help kindle sharp brains in anxious councils of state; no one knew
+what it had been or done or been fashioned for; but it was a right
+royal thing. Yet perhaps it had never been more useful than it was now
+in this poor desolate room, sending down heat and comfort into the
+troop of children tumbled together on a wolfskin at its feet, who
+received frozen August among them with loud shouts of joy.
+
+"O, dear Hirschvogel, I am so cold, so cold!" said August, kissing its
+gilded lion's claws. "Is father not in, Dorothea?"
+
+"No, dear. He is late."
+
+Dorothea was a girl of seventeen, dark-haired and serious, and with a
+sweet, sad face, for she had had many cares laid on her shoulders,
+even whilst still a mere baby. She was the eldest of the Strehla
+family; and there were ten of them in all. Next to her there came Jan
+and Karl and Otho, big lads, gaining a little for their own living;
+and then came August, who went up in the summer to the high Alps with
+the farmers' cattle, but in winter could do nothing to fill his own
+little platter and pot; and then all the little ones, who could only
+open their mouths to be fed like young birds--Albrecht and Hilda, and
+Waldo and Christof, and last of all little three-year-old Ermengilda,
+with eyes like forget-me-nots, whose birth had cost them the life of
+their mother.
+
+They were of that mixed race, half Austrian, half Italian, so common
+in the Tyrol; some of the children were white and golden as lilies,
+others were brown and brilliant as fresh-fallen chestnuts. The father
+was a good man, but weak and weary with so many to find for and so
+little to do it with. He worked at the salt-furnaces, and by that
+gained a few florins; people said he would have worked better and kept
+his family more easily if he had not loved his pipe and a draught of
+ale too well; but this had only been said of him after his wife's
+death, when trouble and perplexity had begun to dull a brain never too
+vigorous, and to enfeeble further a character already too yielding. As
+it was, the wolf often bayed at the door of the Strehla household,
+without a wolf from the mountains coming down. Dorothea was one of
+those maidens who almost work miracles, so far can their industry and
+care and intelligence make a home sweet and wholesome and a single
+loaf seem to swell into twenty. The children were always clean and
+happy, and the table was seldom without its big pot of soup once a
+day. Still, very poor they were, and Dorothea's heart ached with
+shame, for she knew that their father's debts were many for flour and
+meat and clothing. Or fuel to feed the big stove they had always
+enough without cost, for their mother's father was alive, and sold
+wood and fir cones and coke, and never grudged them to his
+grandchildren, though he grumbled at Strehla's improvidence and
+hapless, dreamy ways.
+
+"Father says we are never to wait for him: we will have supper, now
+you have come home, dear," said Dorothea, who, however she might fret
+her soul in secret as she knitted their hose and mended their shirts,
+never let her anxieties cast a gloom on the children; only to August
+she did speak a little sometimes, because he was so thoughtful and so
+tender of her always, and knew as well as she did that there were
+troubles about money--though these troubles were vague to them both,
+and the debtors were patient and kindly, being neighbours all in the
+old twisting streets between the guard-house and the river.
+
+Supper was a huge bowl of soup, with big slices of brown bread
+swimming in it and some onions bobbing up and down: the bowl was soon
+emptied by ten wooden spoons, and then the three eldest boys slipped
+off to bed, being tired with their rough bodily labour in the snow all
+day, and Dorothea drew her spinning-wheel by the stove and set it
+whirring, and the little ones got August down upon the old worn
+wolfskin and clamoured to him for a picture or a story. For August was
+the artist of the family.
+
+He had a piece of planed deal that his father had given him, and some
+sticks of charcoal, and he would draw a hundred things he had seen in
+the day, sweeping each out with his elbow when the children had seen
+enough of it and sketching another in its stead--faces and dogs'
+heads, and men in sledges, and old women in their furs, and
+pine-trees, and cocks and hens, and all sorts of animals, and now and
+then--very reverently--a Madonna and Child. It was all very rough, for
+there was no one to teach him anything But it was all life-like, and
+kept the whole troop of children shrieking with laughter, or watching
+breathless, with wide open, wondering, awed eyes.
+
+They were all so happy: what did they care for the snow outside? Their
+little bodies were warm, and their hearts merry; even Dorothea,
+troubled about the bread for the morrow, laughed as she spun; and
+August, with all his soul in his work, and little rosy Ermengilda's
+cheek on his shoulder, glowing after his frozen afternoon, cried out
+loud, smiling, as he looked up at the stove that was shedding its head
+down on them all:
+
+"Oh, dear Hirschvogel! you are almost as great and good as the sun!
+No; you are greater and better, I think, because he goes away nobody
+knows where all these long, dark, cold hours, and does not care how
+people die for want of him; but you--you are always ready: just a
+little bit of wood to feed you, and you will make a summer for us all
+the winter through!"
+
+The grand old stove seemed to smile through all its iridescent surface
+at the praises of the child. No doubt the stove, though it had known
+three centuries and more, had known but very little gratitude.
+
+It was one of those magnificent stoves in enamelled faïence which so
+excited the jealousy of the other potters of Nürnberg that in a body
+they demanded of the magistracy that Augustin Hirschvogel should be
+forbidden to make any more of them--the magistracy, happily, proving
+of a broader mind, and having no sympathy with the wish of the
+artisans to cripple their greater fellow.
+
+It was of great height and breadth, with all the majolica lustre which
+Hirschvogel learned to give to his enamels when he was making love to
+the young Venetian girl whom he afterwards married. There was the
+statue of a king at each corner, modelled with as much force and
+splendour as his friend Albrecht Dürer could have given unto them on
+copperplate or canvas. The body of the stove itself was divided into
+panels, which had the Ages of Man painted on them in polychrome; the
+borders of the panels had roses and holly and laurel and other
+foliage, and German mottoes in black letter of odd Old-World
+moralising, such as the old Teutons, and the Dutch after them, love to
+have on their chimney-places and their drinking cups, their dishes and
+flagons. The whole was burnished with gilding in many parts, and was
+radiant everywhere with that brilliant colouring of which the
+Hirschvogel family, painters on glass and great in chemistry as they
+were, were all masters.
+
+The stove was a very grand thing, as I say: possibly Hirschvogel had
+made it for some mighty lord of the Tyrol at that time when he was an
+imperial guest at Innspruck and fashioned so many things for the
+Schloss Amras and beautiful Philippine Welser, the Burgher's daughter,
+who gained an Archduke's heart by her beauty and the right to wear his
+honors by her wit. Nothing was known of the stove at this latter day
+in Hall. The grandfather Strehla, who had been a master-mason, had dug
+it up out of some ruins where he was building, and, finding it without
+a flaw, had taken it home, and only thought it worth finding because
+it was such a good one to burn. That was now sixty years past, and
+ever since then the stove had stood in the big desolate empty room,
+warming three generations of the Strehla family, and having seen
+nothing prettier perhaps in all its many years than the children
+tumbled now in a cluster like gathered flowers at its feet. For the
+Strehla children, born to nothing else, were all born to beauty; white
+or brown, they were equally lovely to look upon, and when they went
+into the church to mass, with their curling locks and their clasped
+hands, they stood under the grim statues like cherubs flown down off
+some fresco.
+
+"Tell us a story, August," they cried, in chorus, when they had seen
+charcoal pictures till they were tired; and August did as he did every
+night, pretty nearly, looked up at the stove and told them what he
+imagined of the many adventures and joys and sorrows of the human
+being who figured on the panels from his cradle to his grave.
+
+To the children the stove was a household god. In summer they laid a
+mat of fresh moss all round it, and dressed it up with green boughs
+and the numberless beautiful wild flowers of the Tyrol country. In
+winter all their joys centred in it, and scampering home from school
+over the ice and snow they were happy, knowing that they would soon be
+cracking nuts or roasting chestnuts in the broad ardent glow of its
+noble tower, which rose eight feet high above them with all its spires
+and pinnacles and crowns.
+
+Once a travelling peddler had told them that the letters on it meant
+Augustin Hirschvogel, and that Hirschvogel had been a great German
+potter and painter, like his father before him, in the art-sanctified
+city of Nürnberg, and had made many such stoves, that were all
+miracles of beauty and of workmanship, putting all his heart and his
+soul and his faith into his labours, as the men of those earlier ages
+did, and thinking but little of gold or praise.
+
+An old trader, too, who sold curiosities not far from the church, had
+told August a little more about the brave family of Hirschvogel, whose
+houses can be seen in Nürnberg to this day; of old Veit, the first of
+them, who painted the Gothic windows of St. Sebald with the marriage
+of the Margravine; of his sons and of his grandsons, potters,
+painters, engravers all, and chief of them great Augustin, the Luca
+della Robbia of the North. And August's imagination, always quick,
+had made a living personage out of these few records, and saw
+Hirschvogel as though he were in the flesh walking up and down the
+Maximilian-Strass in his visit to Innspruck, and maturing beautiful
+things in his brain as he stood on the bridge and gazed on the
+emerald-green flood of the Inn.
+
+So the stove had got to be called Hirschvogel in the family, as if it
+were a living creature, and little August was very proud because he
+had been named after that famous old dead German who had had the
+genius to make so glorious a thing. All the children loved the stove,
+but with August the love of it was a passion; and in his secret heart
+he used to say to himself, "When I am a man, I will make just such
+things too, and then I will set Hirschvogel in a beautiful room in a
+house that I will build myself in Innspruck just outside the gates,
+where the chestnuts are, by the river: that is what I will do when I
+am a man."
+
+For August, a salt-baker's son and a little cow-keeper when he was
+anything, was a dreamer of dreams, and when he was upon the high Alps
+with his cattle, with the stillness and the sky around him, was quite
+certain that he would live for greater things than driving the herds
+up when the springtide came among the blue sea of gentians, or toiling
+down in the town with wood and with timber as his father and
+grandfather did every day of their lives. He was a strong and healthy
+little fellow, fed on the free mountain air, and he was very happy,
+and loved his family devotedly, and was as active as a squirrel and as
+playful as a hare; but he kept his thoughts to himself, and some of
+them went a very long way for a little boy who was only one among
+many, and to whom nobody had ever paid any attention except to teach
+him his letters and tell him to fear God. August in winter was only a
+little, hungry schoolboy, trotting to be catechised by the priest, or
+to bring the loaves from the bake-house, or to carry his father's
+boots to the cobbler; and in summer he was only one of hundreds of
+cow-boys, who drove the poor, half-blind, blinking, stumbling cattle,
+ringing their throat-bells, out into the sweet intoxication of the
+sudden sunlight, and lived up with them in the heights among the
+Alpine roses, with only the clouds and the snow-summits near. But he
+was always thinking, thinking, thinking, for all that; and under his
+little sheepskin winter coat and his rough hempen summer shirt his
+heart had as much courage in it as Hofer's ever had--great Hofer, who
+is a household word in all the Innthal, and whom August always
+reverently remembered when he went to the city of Innspruck and ran
+out by the foaming water-mill and under the wooded height of Berg
+Isel.
+
+August lay now in the warmth of the stove and told the children
+stories, his own little brown face growing red with excitement as his
+imagination glowed to fever heat. That human being on the panels, who
+was drawn there as a baby in a cradle, as a boy playing among flowers,
+as a lover sighing under a casement, as a soldier in the midst of
+strife, as a father with children round him, as a weary, old, blind
+man on crutches, and, lastly, as a ransomed soul raised up by angels,
+had always had the most intense interest for August, and he had made,
+not one history for him, but a thousand; he seldom told them the same
+tale twice. He had never seen a story-book in his life; his primer and
+his mass-book were all the volumes he had. But nature had given him
+Fancy, and she is a good fairy that makes up for the want of very many
+things! only, alas! her wings are so very soon broken, poor thing, and
+then she is of no use at all.
+
+"It is time for you all to go to bed, children," said Dorothea,
+looking up from her spinning. "Father is very late to-night; you must
+not sit up for him."
+
+"Oh, five minutes more, dear Dorothea!" they pleaded; and little rosy
+and golden Ermengilda climbed up into her lap. "Hirschvogel is so
+warm, the beds are never so warm as he. Cannot you tell us another
+tale, August?"
+
+"No," cried August, whose face had lost its light, now that his story
+had come to an end, and who sat serious, with his hands clasped on his
+knees, gazing on to the luminous arabesques of the stove.
+
+"It is only a week to Christmas," he said, suddenly.
+
+"Grandmother's big cakes!" chuckled little Christof, who was five
+years old, and thought Christmas meant a big cake and nothing else.
+
+"What will Santa Claus find for 'Gilda if she be good?" murmured
+Dorothea over the child's sunny head; for, however hard poverty might
+pinch, it could never pinch so tightly that Dorothea would not find
+some wooden toy and some rosy apples to put in her little sister's
+socks.
+
+"Father Max has promised me a big goose, because I saved the calf's
+life in June," said August; it was the twentieth time he had told them
+so that month, he was so proud of it.
+
+"And Aunt Maïla will be sure to send us wine and honey and a barrel of
+flour; she always does," said Albrecht. Their aunt Maïla had a châlet
+and a little farm over on the green slopes toward Dorf Ampas.
+
+"I shall go up into the woods and get Hirschvogel's crown," said
+August; they always crowned Hirschvogel for Christmas with pine boughs
+and ivy and mountain-berries. The heat soon withered the crown; but it
+was part of the religion of the day to them, as much so as it was to
+cross themselves in church and raise their voices in the "O Salutaris
+Hostia."
+
+And they fell chatting of all they would do on the Christmas night,
+and one little voice piped loud against another's, and they were as
+happy as though their stockings would be full of golden purses and
+jewelled toys, and the big goose in the soup-pot seemed to them such a
+meal as kings would envy.
+
+In the midst of their chatter and laughter a blast of frozen air and a
+spray of driven snow struck like ice through the room, and reached
+them even in the warmth of the old wolfskins and the great stove. It
+was the door which had opened and let in the cold; it was their father
+who had come home.
+
+The younger children ran joyous to meet him. Dorothea pushed the one
+wooden arm-chair of the room to the stove, and August flew to set the
+jug of beer on a little round table, and fill a long clay pipe; for
+their father was good to them all, and seldom raised his voice in
+anger, and they had been trained by the mother they had loved to
+dutifulness and obedience and a watchful affection.
+
+To-night Karl Strehla responded very wearily to the young ones'
+welcome, and came to the wooden chair with a tired step and sat down
+heavily, not noticing either pipe or beer.
+
+"Are you not well, dear father?" his daughter asked him.
+
+"I am well enough," he answered, dully and sat there with his head
+bent, letting the lighted pipe grow cold.
+
+He was a fair, tall man, gray before his time, and bowed with labour.
+
+"Take the children to bed," he said, suddenly, at last, and Dorothea
+obeyed. August stayed behind, curled before the stove; at nine years
+old, and when one earns money in the summer from the farmers, one is
+not altogether a child any more, at least in one's own estimation.
+
+August did not heed his father's silence: he was used to it. Karl
+Strehla was a man of few words, and, being of weakly health, was
+usually too tired at the end of the day to do more than drink his beer
+and sleep. August lay on the wolfskin dreamy and comfortable, looking
+up through his drooping eyelids at the golden coronets on the crest of
+the great stove, and wondering for the millionth time whom it had been
+made for, and what grand places and scenes it had known.
+
+Dorothea came down from putting the little ones in their beds; the
+cuckoo-clock in the corner struck eight; she looked to her father and
+the untouched pipe, then sat down to her spinning, saying nothing. She
+thought he had been drinking in some tavern; it had been often so with
+him of late.
+
+There was a long silence; the cuckoo called the quarter twice; August
+dropped asleep, his curls falling over his face; Dorothea's wheel
+hummed like a cat.
+
+Suddenly Karl Strehla struck his hand on the table, sending the pipe
+to the ground.
+
+"I have sold Hirschvogel," he said; and his voice was husky and
+ashamed in his throat. The spinning-wheel stopped. August sprang erect
+out of his sleep.
+
+"Sold Hirschvogel!" If their father had dashed the holy crucifix on
+the floor at their feet and spat on it, they could not have shuddered
+under the horror of a greater blasphemy.
+
+"I have sold Hirschvogel!" said Karl Strehla, in the same husky,
+dogged voice. "I have sold it to a travelling trader in such things
+for two hundred florins. What would you?--I owe double that. He saw it
+this morning when you were all out. He will pack it and take it to
+Munich to-morrow."
+
+Dorothea gave a low shrill cry:
+
+"Oh, father?--the children--in midwinter!"
+
+She turned white as the snow without; her words died away in her
+throat.
+
+August stood, half blind with sleep, staring with dazed eyes as his
+cattle stared at the sun when they came out from their winter's
+prison.
+
+"It is not true. It is not true!" he muttered. "You are jesting,
+father?"
+
+Strehla broke into a dreary laugh.
+
+"It is true. Would you like to know what is true too? that the bread
+you eat, and the meat you put in this pot, and the roof you have over
+your heads, are none of them paid for, have been none of them paid
+for, for months and months; if it had not been for your grandfather I
+should have been in prison all summer and autumn, and he is out of
+patience and will do no more now. There is no work to be had; the
+masters go to younger men: they say I work ill; it may be so. Who can
+keep his head above water with ten hungry children dragging him down?
+When your mother lived it was different. Boy, you stare at me as if I
+were a mad dog. You have made a god of yon china thing. Well--it goes,
+goes to-morrow. Two hundred florins, that is something. It will keep
+me out of prison for a little and with the spring things may turn--"
+
+August stood like a creature paralysed. His eyes were wide open,
+fastened on his father's with terror and incredulous horror; his face
+had grown as white as his sister's; his chest heaved with tearless
+sobs.
+
+"It is not true! It is not true!" he echoed stupidly. It seemed to him
+that the very skies must fall, and the earth perish, if they could
+take away Hirschvogel. They might as soon talk of tearing down God's
+sun out of the heavens.
+
+"You will find it true," said his father, doggedly, and angered
+because he was in his own soul bitterly ashamed to have bartered away
+the heirloom and treasure of his race, and the comfort and healthgiver
+of his young children. "You will find it true. The dealer has paid me
+half the money to-night, and will pay me the other half to-morrow when
+he packs it up and takes it away to Munich. No doubt it is worth a
+great deal more--at least I suppose so, as he gives that--but beggars
+cannot be choosers. The little black stove in the kitchen will warm
+you all just as well. Who would keep a gilded, painted thing in a poor
+house like this, when one can make two hundred florins by it?
+Dorothea, you never sobbed more when your mother died. What is it,
+when all is said?--a bit of hardware, much too grand-looking for such
+a room as this. If all the Strehlas had not been born fools it would
+have been sold a century ago, when it was dug up out of the ground.
+'It is a stove for a museum,' the trader said when he saw it. 'To a
+museum let it go.'"
+
+August gave a shrill shriek like a hare's when it is caught for its
+death, and threw himself on his knees at his father's feet.
+
+"Oh, father, father!" he cried, convulsively, his hands closing on
+Strehla's knees, and his uplifted face blanched and distorted with
+terror. "Oh, father, dear father, you cannot mean what you say? Send
+_it_ away--our life, our sun, our joy, our comfort? we shall all die
+in the dark and the cold. Sell _me_ rather. Sell me to any trade or
+any pain you like; I will not mind. But Hirschvogel! it is like
+selling the very cross off the altar! You must be in jest. You could
+not do such a thing--you could not--you who have always been gentle
+and good, and who have sat in the warmth here year after year with our
+mother. It is not a piece of hardware, as you say; it is a living
+thing, for a great man's thoughts and fancies have put life into it,
+and it loves us, though we are only poor little children, and we love
+it with all our hearts and souls, and up in heaven I am sure the dead
+Hirschvogel knows! Oh, listen; I will go and try and get work
+to-morrow; I will ask them to let me cut ice or make the paths through
+the snow. There must be something I could do, and I will beg the
+people we owe money to, to wait; they are all neighbours, they will be
+patient. But sell Hirschvogel! oh, never! never! never! Give the
+florins back to the vile man. Tell him it would be like selling the
+shroud out of mother's coffin, or the golden curls off Ermengilda's
+head! Oh, father, dear father! do hear me, for pity's sake!"
+
+Strehla was moved by the boy's anguish. He loved his children, though
+he was often weary of them, and their pain was pain to him. But beside
+emotion, and stronger than emotion, was the anger that August roused
+in him: he hated and despised himself for the barter of the heirloom
+of his race, and every word of the child stung him with a stinging
+sense of shame.
+
+And he spoke in his wrath rather than in his sorrow.
+
+"You are a little fool," he said, harshly, as they had never heard him
+speak. "You rave like a play-actor. Get up and go to bed. The stove is
+sold. There is no more to be said. Children like you have nothing to
+do with such matters. The stove is sold, and goes to Munich to-morrow.
+What is it to you? Be thankful I can get bread for you. Get on your
+legs, I say, and go to bed."
+
+Strehla took up the jug of ale as he paused, and drained it slowly as
+a man who had no cares.
+
+August sprang to his feet and threw his hair back off his face; the
+blood rushed into his cheeks, making them scarlet: his great soft eyes
+flamed alight with furious passion.
+
+"You _dare_ not!" he cried, aloud, "you dare not sell it, I say! It
+is not yours alone; it is ours--"
+
+Strehla flung the emptied jug on the bricks with a force that shivered
+it to atoms, and, rising to his feet, struck his son a blow that
+felled him to the floor. It was the first time in all his life that he
+had ever raised his hand against any one of his children.
+
+Then he took the oil-lamp that stood at his elbow and stumbled off to
+his own chamber with a cloud before his eyes.
+
+"What has happened?" said August, a little while later, as he opened
+his eyes and saw Dorothea weeping above him on the wolfskin before the
+stove. He had been struck backward, and his head had fallen on the
+hard bricks where the wolfskin did not reach. He sat up a moment, with
+his face bent upon his hands.
+
+"I remember now," he said, very low, under his breath.
+
+Dorothea showered kisses on him, while her tears fell like rain.
+
+"But, oh, dear, how could you speak so to father?" she murmured. "It
+was very wrong."
+
+"No, I was right," said August, and his little mouth, that hitherto
+had only curled in laughter, curved downward with a fixed and bitter
+seriousness. "How dare he? How dare he?" he muttered, with his head
+sunk in his hands. "It is not his alone. It belongs to us all. It is
+as much yours and mine as it is his."
+
+Dorothea could only sob in answer. She was too frightened to speak.
+The authority of their parents in the house had never in her
+remembrance been questioned.
+
+"Are you hurt by the fall dear August?" she murmured, at length, for
+he looked to her so pale and strange.
+
+"Yes--no. I do not know. What does it matter?"
+
+He sat up upon the wolfskin with passionate pain upon his face; all
+his soul was in rebellion, and he was only a child and was powerless.
+
+"It is a sin; it is a theft; it is an infamy," he said slowly, his
+eyes fastened on the gilded feet of Hirschvogel.
+
+"Oh, August, do not say such things of father!" sobbed his sister.
+"Whatever he does, _we_ ought to think it right."
+
+August laughed aloud.
+
+"Is it right that he should spend his money in drink?--that he should
+let orders lie unexecuted?--that he should do his work so ill that no
+one cares to employ him?--that he should live on grandfather's
+charity, and then dare sell a thing that is ours every whit as much as
+it is his? To sell Hirschvogel! Oh, dear God! I would sooner sell my
+soul!"
+
+"August!" cried Dorothea, with piteous entreaty. He terrified her, she
+could not recognise her little, gay, gentle brother in those fierce
+and blasphemous words.
+
+August laughed aloud again; then all at once his laughter broke down
+into bitterest weeping. He threw himself forward on the stove,
+covering it with kisses, and sobbing as though his heart would burst
+from his bosom.
+
+What could he do? Nothing, nothing, nothing!
+
+"August, dear August," whispered Dorothea piteously, and trembling all
+over--for she was a very gentle girl, and fierce feeling terrified
+her--"August, do not lie there. Come to bed: it is quite late. In the
+morning you will be calmer. It is horrible indeed, and we shall die of
+cold, at least the little ones; but if it be father's will--"
+
+"Let me alone," said August, through his teeth, striving to still the
+storm of sobs that shook him from head to foot. "Let me alone. In the
+morning!--how can you speak of the morning?"
+
+"Come to bed, dear," sighed his sister. "Oh, August, do not lie and
+look like that! you frighten me. Do come to bed."
+
+"I shall stay here."
+
+"Here! all night!"
+
+"They might take it in the night. Besides, to leave it _now_."
+
+"But it is cold! the fire is out."
+
+"It will never be warm any more, nor shall we."
+
+All his childhood had gone out of him, all his gleeful, careless,
+sunny temper had gone with it; he spoke sullenly and wearily, choking
+down the great sobs in his chest. To him it was as if the end of the
+world had come.
+
+His sister lingered by him while striving to persuade him to go to his
+place in the little crowded bedchamber with Albrecht and Waldo and
+Christof. But it was in vain. "I shall stay here," was all he answered
+her. And he stayed--all the night long.
+
+The lamps went out; the rats came and ran across the floor; as the
+hours crept on through midnight and past, the cold intensified and the
+air of the room grew like ice. August did not move; he lay with his
+face downward on the golden and rainbow hued pedestal of the household
+treasure, which henceforth was to be cold for evermore, an exiled
+thing in a foreign city in a far-off land.
+
+Whilst yet it was dark his three elder brothers came down the stairs
+and let themselves out, each bearing his lantern and going to his work
+in stone-yard and timber-yard and at the salt-works. They did not
+notice him; they did not know what had happened.
+
+A little later his sister came down with a light in her hand to make
+ready the house ere morning should break.
+
+She stole up to him and laid her hand on his shoulder timidly.
+
+"Dear August, you must be frozen. August, do look up! do speak!"
+
+August raised his eyes with a wild, feverish, sullen look in them that
+she had never seen there. His face was ashen white: his lips were like
+fire. He had not slept all night; but his passionate sobs had given
+way to delirious waking dreams and numb senseless trances, which had
+alternated one on another all through the freezing, lonely, horrible
+hours.
+
+"It will never be warm again," he muttered, "never again!"
+
+Dorothea clasped him with trembling hands.
+
+"August! do you not know me!" she cried, in an agony. "I am Dorothea.
+Wake up, dear--wake up! It is morning, only so dark!"
+
+August shuddered all over.
+
+"The morning!" he echoed.
+
+He slowly rose up on to his feet.
+
+"I will go to grandfather," he said, very low. "He is always good:
+perhaps he could save it."
+
+Loud blows with the heavy iron knocker of the house-door drowned his
+words. A strange voice called aloud through the keyhole:
+
+"Let me in! Quick!--there is no time to lose! More snow like this, and
+the roads will be all blocked. Let me in. Do you hear? I am come to
+take the great stove."
+
+August sprang erect, his fists doubled, his eyes blazing.
+
+"You shall never touch it!" he screamed; "you shall never touch it!"
+
+"Who shall prevent us?" laughed a big man, who was a Bavarian, amused
+at the fierce little figure fronting him.
+
+"I!" said August "You shall never have it! you shall kill me first!"
+
+"Strehla," said the big man, as August's father entered the room,
+"you have got a little mad dog here: muzzle him."
+
+One way and another they did muzzle him. He fought like a little
+demon, and hit out right and left, and one of his blows gave the
+Bavarian a black eye. But he was soon mastered by four grown men, and
+his father flung him with no light hand out from the door of the back
+entrance, and the buyers of the stately and beautiful stove set to
+work to pack it heedfully and carry it away.
+
+When Dorothea stole out to look for August, he was nowhere in sight.
+She went back to little 'Gilda, who was ailing, and sobbed over the
+child, whilst the others stood looking on, dimly understanding that
+with Hirschvogel was going all the warmth of their bodies, all the
+light of their hearth.
+
+Even their father now was very sorry and ashamed; but two hundred
+florins seemed a big sum to him, and, after all, he thought the
+children could warm themselves quite as well at the black iron stove
+in the kitchen. Besides, whether he regretted it now or not, the work
+of the Nürnberg potter was sold irrevocably, and he had to stand still
+and see the men from Munich wrap it in manifold wrappings and bear it
+out into the snowy air to where an ox-cart stood in waiting for it.
+
+In another moment Hirschvogel was gone--gone forever and aye.
+
+August stood still for a time, leaning, sick and faint from the
+violence that had been used to him, against the back wall of the
+house. The wall looked on a court where a well was, and the backs of
+other houses, and beyond them the spire of the Muntze Tower and the
+peaks of the mountains.
+
+Into the court an old neighbour hobbled for water, and, seeing the
+boy, said to him:
+
+"Child, is it true your father is selling the big painted stove?"
+
+August nodded his head, then burst into a passion of tears.
+
+"Well, for sure he is a fool," said the neighbour. "Heaven forgive me
+for calling him so before his own child! but the stove was worth a
+mint of money. I do remember in my young days, in old Anton's time
+(that was your great-grandfather, my lad), a stranger from Vienna saw
+it, and said that it was worth its weight in gold."
+
+August's sobs went on their broken, impetuous course.
+
+"I loved it! I loved it!" he moaned. "I do not care what its value
+was. I loved it! _I loved it_!"
+
+"You little simpleton!" said the old man, kindly. "But you are wiser
+than your father, when all's said. If sell it he must, he should have
+taken it to good Herr Steiner over at Sprüz, who would have given him
+honest value. But no doubt they took him over his beer, ay, ay! but if
+I were you I would do better than cry. I would go after it."
+
+August raised his head, the tears raining down his cheeks.
+
+"Go after it when you are bigger," said the neighbour, with a
+good-natured wish to cheer him up a little. "The world is a small
+thing after all: I was a travelling clockmaker once upon a time, and I
+know that your stove will be safe enough whoever gets it; anything
+that can be sold for a round sum is always wrapped up in cotton wool
+by everybody. Ay, ay, don't cry so much; you will see your stove again
+some day."
+
+Then the old man hobbled away to draw his brazen pail full of water at
+the well.
+
+August remained leaning against the wall; his head was buzzing and his
+heart fluttering with the new idea which had presented itself to his
+mind. "Go after it," had said the old man. He thought, "Why not go
+with it?" He loved it better than anyone, even better than Dorothea;
+and he shrank from the thought of meeting his father again, his father
+who had sold Hirschvogel.
+
+He was by this time in that state of exaltation in which the
+impossible looks quite natural and commonplace. His tears were still
+wet on his pale cheeks, but they had ceased to fall. He ran out of the
+court-yard by a little gate, and across to the huge Gothic porch of
+the church. From there he could watch unseen his father's house-door,
+at which were always hanging some blue-and-gray pitchers, such as are
+common and so picturesque in Austria, for a part of the house was let
+to a man who dealt in pottery.
+
+He hid himself in the grand portico, which he had so often passed
+through to go to mass or compline within, and presently his heart gave
+a great leap, for he saw the straw-enwrapped stove brought out and
+laid with infinite care on the bullock-dray. Two of the Bavarian men
+mounted beside it, and the sleigh-wagon slowly crept over the snow of
+the place--snow crisp and hard as stone. The noble old minster looked
+its grandest and most solemn, with its dark-gray stone and its vast
+archways, and its porch that was itself as big as many a church, and
+its strange gargoyles and lamp-irons black against the snow on its
+roof and on the pavement; but for once August had no eyes for it; he
+only watched for his old friend. Then he, a little unnoticeable figure
+enough, like a score of other boys in Hall, crept, unseen by any of
+his brothers or sisters, out of the porch and over the shelving uneven
+square, and followed in the wake of the dray.
+
+Its course lay toward the station of the railway, which is close to
+the salt-works, whose smoke at times sullies this part of clean little
+Hall, though it does not do very much damage. From Hall the iron road
+runs northward through glorious country to Salzburg, Vienna, Prague,
+Buda, and southward over the Brenner into Italy. Was Hirschvogel going
+north or south? This at least he would soon know.
+
+August had often hung about the little station, watching the trains
+come and go and dive into the heart of the hills and vanish. No one
+said anything to him for idling about; people are kind-hearted and
+easy of temper in this pleasant land, and children and dogs are both
+happy there. He heard the Bavarians arguing and vociferating a great
+deal, and learned that they meant to go too and wanted to go with the
+great stove itself. But this they could not do, for neither could the
+stove go by a passenger train nor they themselves go in a goods-train.
+So at length they insured their precious burden for a large sum, and
+consented to send it by a luggage train which was to pass through Hall
+in half an hour. The swift trains seldom deign to notice the existence
+of Hall at all.
+
+August heard, and a desperate resolve made itself up in his little
+mind. Where Hirschvogel went would he go. He gave one terrible thought
+to Dorothea--poor, gentle Dorothea!--sitting in the cold at home, then
+set to work to execute his project. How he managed it he never knew
+very clearly himself, but certain it is that when the goods-train from
+the north, that had come all the way from Linz on the Danube, moved
+out of Hall, August was hidden behind the stove in the great covered
+truck, and wedged, unseen and undreamt of by any human creature,
+amidst the cases of wood-carving, of clocks and clock-work, of Vienna
+toys, of Turkish carpets, of Russian skins, of Hungarian wines, which
+shared the same abode as did his swathed and bound Hirschvogel. No
+doubt he was very naughty, but it never occurred to him that he was
+so: his whole mind and soul were absorbed in the one entrancing idea,
+to follow his beloved friend and fire-king.
+
+It was very dark in the closed truck, which had only a little window
+above the door; and it was crowded, and had a strong smell in it from
+the Russian hides and the hams that were in it. But August was not
+frightened; he was close to Hirschvogel, and presently he meant to be
+closer still; for he meant to do nothing less than get inside
+Hirschvogel itself. Being a shrewd little boy, and having had by great
+luck two silver groschen in his breeches-pocket, which he had earned
+the day before by chopping wood, he had bought some bread and sausage
+at the station of a woman there who knew him, and who thought he was
+going out to his uncle Joachim's châlet above Jenbach. This he had
+with him, and this he ate in the darkness and the lumbering, pounding,
+thundering noise which made him giddy, as never had he been in a train
+of any kind before. Still he ate, having had no breakfast, and being a
+child, and half a German, and not knowing at all how or when he ever
+would eat again.
+
+When he had eaten, not as much as he wanted, but as much as he thought
+was prudent (for who could say when he would be able to buy anything
+more?), he set to work like a little mouse to make a hole in the
+withes of straw and hay which enveloped the stove. If it had been put
+in a packing-case he would have been defeated at the onset. As it was,
+he gnawed, and nibbled, and pulled, and pushed, just as a mouse would
+have done, making his hole where he guessed that the opening of the
+stove was--the opening through which he had so often thrust the big
+oak logs to feed it. No one disturbed him; the heavy train went
+lumbering on and on, and he saw nothing at all of the beautiful
+mountains, and shining waters, and great forests through which he was
+being carried. He was hard at work getting through the straw and hay
+and twisted ropes; and get through them at last he did, and found the
+door of the stove, which he knew so well, and which was quite large
+enough for a child of his age to slip through, and it was this which
+he had counted upon doing. Slip through he did, as he had often done
+at home for fun, and curled himself up there to see if he could anyhow
+remain during many hours. He found that he could; air came in through
+the brass fretwork of the stove; and with admirable caution in such a
+little fellow he leaned out, drew the hay and straw together,
+rearranged the ropes, so that no one could ever have dreamed a little
+mouse had been at them. Then he curled himself up again, this time
+more like a dormouse than anything else; and, being safe inside his
+dear Hirschvogel and intensely cold, he went fast asleep as if he were
+in his own bed at home with Albrecht, and Christof on either side of
+him. The train lumbered on, stopped often and long, as the habit of
+goods-trains is, sweeping the snow away with its cow-switcher, and
+rumbling through the deep heart of the mountains, with its lamps aglow
+like the eyes of a dog in a night of frost.
+
+The train rolled on in its heavy, slow fashion, and the child slept
+soundly, for a long while. When he did awake, it was quite dark
+outside in the land; he could not see, and of course he was in
+absolute darkness; and for a while he was solely frightened, and
+trembled terribly, and sobbed in a quiet heart-broken fashion,
+thinking of them all at home. Poor Dorothea! how anxious she would be!
+How she would run over the town and walk up to grandfather's at Dorf
+Ampas, and perhaps even send over to Jenbach, thinking he had taken
+refuge with Uncle Joachim! His conscience smote him for the sorrow he
+must be even then causing to his gentle sister; but it never occurred
+to him to try and go back. If he once were to lose sight of
+Hirschvogel how could he ever hope to find it again? how could he ever
+know whither it had gone--north, south, east or west? The old
+neighbour had said that the world was small; but August knew at least
+that it must have a great many places in it; that he had seen himself
+on the maps on his school-house walls. Almost any other little boy
+would, I think, have been frightened out of his wits at the position
+in which he found himself; but August was brave, and he had a firm
+belief that God and Hirschvogel would take care of him. The
+master-potter of Nürnberg was always present to his mind, a kindly,
+benign, and gracious spirit, dwelling manifestly in that porcelain
+tower whereof he had been the maker.
+
+A droll fancy, you say? But every child with a soul in him has quite
+as quaint fancies as this one was of August's.
+
+So he got over his terror and his sobbing both, though he was so
+utterly in the dark. He did not feel cramped at all, because the stove
+was so large, and air he had in plenty, as it came through the
+fretwork running round the top. He was hungry again, and again nibbled
+with prudence at his loaf and his sausage. He could not at all tell
+the hour. Every time the train stopped and he heard the banging,
+stamping, shouting, and jangling of chains that went on, his heart
+seemed to jump up into his mouth. If they should find him out!
+Sometimes porters came and took away this case and the other, a sack
+here, a bale there, now a big bag, now a dead chamois. Every time the
+men trampled near him, and swore at each other, and banged this and
+that to and fro, he was so frightened that his very breath seemed to
+stop. When they came to lift the stove out, would they find him? and
+if they did find him, would they kill him? That was what he kept
+thinking of all the way, all through the dark hours, which seemed
+without end. The goods-trains are usually very slow, and are many days
+doing what a quick train does in a few hours. This one was quicker
+than most, because it was bearing goods to the King of Bavaria; still,
+it took all the short winter's day and the long winter's night and
+half another day to go over ground that the mail-trains cover in a
+forenoon. It passed great armoured Kuffstein standing across the
+beautiful and solemn gorge, denying the right of way to all the foes
+of Austria. It passed twelve hours later, after lying by in
+out-of-the-way stations, pretty Rosenheim, that marks the border of
+Bavaria. And here the Nürnberg stove, with August inside it, was
+lifted out heedfully and set under a covered way. When it was lifted
+out, the boy had hard work to keep in his screams; he was tossed to
+and fro as the men lifted the huge thing, and the earthenware walls of
+his beloved fire-king were not cushions of down. However, though they
+swore and grumbled at the weight of it, they never suspected that a
+living child was inside it, and they carried it out on to the platform
+and set it down under the roof of the goods-shed. There it passed the
+rest of the night and all the next morning, and August was all the
+while within it.
+
+The winds of early winter sweep bitterly over Rosenheim, and all the
+vast Bavarian plain was one white sheet of snow. If there had not been
+whole armies of men at work always clearing the iron rails of the
+snow, no trains could ever have run at all. Happily for August, the
+thick wrappings in which the stove was enveloped and the stoutness of
+its own make screened him from the cold, of which, else, he must have
+died--frozen. He had still some of his loaf, and a little--a very
+little--of his sausage. What he did begin to suffer from was thirst;
+and this frightened him almost more than anything else, for Dorothea
+had read aloud to them one night a story of the tortures some wrecked
+men had endured because they could not find any water but the salt
+sea. It was many hours since he had last taken a drink from the
+wooden spout of their old pump, which brought them the sparkling,
+ice-cold water of the hills.
+
+But, fortunately for him, the stove having been marked and registered
+as "fragile and valuable," was not treated quite like a mere bale of
+goods, and the Rosenheim stationmaster, who knew its consignees,
+resolved to send it on by a passenger-train that would leave there at
+daybreak. And when this train went out, in it, among piles of luggage
+belonging to other travellers, to Vienna, Prague, Buda-Pest, Salzburg,
+was August, still undiscovered, still doubled up like a mole in the
+winter under the grass. Those words, "fragile and valuable," had made
+the men lift Hirschvogel gently and with care. He had begun to get
+used to his prison, and a little used to the incessant pounding and
+jumbling and rattling and shaking with which modern travel is always
+accompanied, though modern invention does deem itself so mightily
+clever. All in the dark he was, and he was terribly thirsty; but he
+kept feeling the earthenware sides of the Nürnberg giant and saying,
+softly, "Take care of me; oh, take care of me, dear Hirschvogel!"
+
+He did not say, "Take me back;" for, now that he was fairly out in the
+world, he wished to see a little of it. He began to think that they
+must have been all over the world in all this time that the rolling
+and roaring and hissing and jangling had been about his ears; shut up
+in the dark, he began to remember all the tales that had been told in
+Yule round the fire at his grandfather's good house at Dorf, of gnomes
+and elves and subterranean terrors, and the Erl King riding on the
+black horse of night, and--and--and he began to sob and to tremble
+again, and this time did scream outright. But the steam was screaming
+itself so loudly that no one, had there been anyone nigh, would have
+heard him; and in another minute or so the train stopped with a jar
+and a jerk, and he in his cage could hear men crying aloud, "München!
+München!"
+
+Then he knew enough of geography to know that he was in the heart of
+Bavaria. He had had an uncle killed in the Bayerischenwald by the
+Bavarian forest guards, when in the excitement of hunting a black bear
+he had overpassed the limits of the Tyrol frontier.
+
+That fate of his kinsman, a gallant young chamois-hunter who had
+taught him to handle a trigger and load a muzzle, made the very name
+of Bavaria a terror to August.
+
+"It is Bavaria! It is Bavaria!" he sobbed to the stove; but the stove
+said nothing to him; it had no fire in it. A stove can no more speak
+without fire than a man can see without light. Give it fire, and it
+will sing to you, tell tales to you, offer you in return all the
+sympathy you ask.
+
+"It is Bavaria!" sobbed August; for it is always a name of dread
+augury to the Tyroleans, by reason of those bitter struggles and
+midnight shots and untimely deaths which come from those meetings of
+jäger and hunter in the Bayerischenwald. But the train stopped; Munich
+was reached, and August, hot and cold by turns, and shaking like a
+little aspen-leaf, felt himself once more carried out on the shoulders
+of men, rolled along on a truck, and finally set down, where he knew
+not, only he knew he was thirsty--so thirsty! If only he could have
+reached his hand out and scooped up a little snow!
+
+He thought he had been moved on this truck many miles, but in truth
+the stove had been only taken from the railway-station to a shop in
+the Marienplatz. Fortunately, the stove was always set upright on its
+four gilded feet, an injunction to that effect having been affixed to
+its written label, and on its gilded feet it stood now in the small
+dark curiosity-shop of one Hans Rhilfer.
+
+"I shall not unpack it till Anton comes," he heard a man's voice say;
+and then he heard a key grate in a lock, and by the unbroken stillness
+that ensued he concluded he was alone, and ventured to peep through
+the straw and hay. What he saw was a small square room filled with
+pots and pans, pictures, carvings, old blue jugs, old steel armour,
+shields, daggers, Chinese idols, Vienna china, Turkish rugs, and all
+the art lumber and fabricated rubbish of a _bric-à-brac_ dealer's. It
+seemed a wonderful place to him; but, oh! was there one drop of water
+in it all? That was his single thought; for his tongue was parching,
+and his throat felt on fire, and his chest began to be dry and choked
+as with dust. There was not a drop of water, but there was a lattice
+window grated, and beyond the window was a wide stone ledge covered
+with snow. August cast one look at the locked door, darted out of his
+hiding place, ran and opened the window, crammed the snow into his
+mouth again and again, and then flew back into the stove, drew the hay
+and straw over the place he entered by, tied the cords, and shut the
+brass door down on himself. He had brought some big icicles in with
+him, and by them his thirst was finally, if only temporarily,
+quenched. Then he sat still in the bottom of the stove, listening
+intently, wide awake, and once more recovering his natural boldness.
+
+The thought of Dorothea kept nipping his heart and his conscience with
+a hard squeeze now and then; but he thought to himself, "If I can take
+her back Hirschvogel then how pleased she will be, and how little
+'Gilda will clap her hands!" He was not at all selfish in his love for
+Hirschvogel: he wanted it for them all at home quite as much as for
+himself. There was at the bottom of his mind a kind of ache of shame
+that his father--his own father--should have stripped their hearth and
+sold their honour thus.
+
+A robin had been perched upon a stone griffin sculptured on a
+house-eave near. August had felt for the crumbs of his loaf in his
+pocket, and had thrown them to the little bird sitting so easily on
+the frozen snow.
+
+In the darkness where he was he now heard a little song, made faint by
+the stove-wall and the window-glass that was between him and it, but
+still distinct and exquisitely sweet. It was the robin, singing after
+feeding on the crumbs. August, as he heard, burst into tears. He
+thought of Dorothea, who every morning threw out some grain or some
+bread on the snow before the church. "What use is it going _there_,"
+she said, "if we forget the sweetest creatures God has made?" Poor
+Dorothea! Poor, good, tender, much-burdened little soul! He thought of
+her till his tears ran like rain.
+
+Yet it never once occurred to him to dream of going home. Hirschvogel
+was here.
+
+Presently the key turned in the lock of the door; he heard heavy
+footsteps and the voice of the man who had said to his father, "You
+have a little mad dog; muzzle him!" The voice said, "Ay, ay, you have
+called me a fool many times. Now you shall see what I have gotten for
+two hundred dirty florins. _Potztausend_! never did _you_ do such a
+stroke of work."
+
+Then the other voice grumbled and swore, and the steps of the two men
+approached more closely, and the heart of the child went pit-a-pat,
+pit-a-pat, as a mouse's does when it is on the top of a cheese and
+hears a housemaid's broom sweeping near. They began to strip the stove
+of its wrappings: that he could tell by the noise they made with the
+hay and the straw. Soon they had stripped it wholly; that too, he
+knew by the oaths and exclamations of wonder and surprise and rapture
+which broke from the man who had not seen it before.
+
+"A right royal thing! A wonderful and never-to-be-rivalled thing!
+Grander than the great stove of Hohen-Salzburg! Sublime! magnificent!
+matchless!"
+
+So the epithets ran on in thick guttural voices, diffusing a smell of
+lager-beer so strong as they spoke that it reached August crouching in
+his stronghold. If they should open the door of the stove! That was
+his frantic fear. If they should open it, it would be all over with
+him. They would drag him out; most likely they would kill him, he
+thought, as his mother's young brother had been killed in the Wald.
+
+The perspiration rolled off his forehead in his agony; but he had
+control enough over himself to keep quiet, and after standing by the
+Nürnberg master's work for nigh an hour, praising, marvelling,
+expatiating in the lengthy German tongue, the men moved to a little
+distance and began talking of sums of money and divided profits, of
+which discourse he could make out no meaning. All he could make out
+was that the name of the king--the king--the king came over very often
+in their arguments. He fancied at times they quarrelled, for they
+swore lustily and their voices rose hoarse and high; but after a while
+they seemed to pacify each other and agree to something, and were in
+great glee, and so in these merry spirits came and slapped the
+luminous sides of stately Hirschvogel, and shouted to it:
+
+"Old Mumchance, you have brought us rare good luck! To think you were
+smoking in a silly fool of a salt-baker's kitchen all these years!"
+
+Then inside the stove August jumped up, with flaming cheeks and
+clinching hands, and was almost on the point of shouting out to them
+that they were the thieves and should say no evil of his father, when
+he remembered, just in time, that to breathe a word or make a sound
+was to bring ruin on himself and sever him forever from Hirschvogel.
+So he kept quite still, and the men barred the shutters of the little
+lattice and went out by the door, double-locking it after them. He had
+made out from their talk that they were going to show Hirschvogel to
+some great person: therefore he kept quite still and dared not move.
+
+Muffled sounds came to him through the shutters from the streets
+below--the rolling of wheels, the clanging of church-bells, and bursts
+of that military music which is so seldom silent in the streets of
+Munich. An hour perhaps passed by; sounds of steps on the stairs kept
+him in perpetual apprehension. In the intensity of his anxiety, he
+forgot that he was hungry and many miles away from cheerful, Old World
+little Hall, lying by the clear gray river-water, with the ramparts of
+the mountains all round.
+
+Presently the door opened again sharply. He could hear the two
+dealers' voices murmuring unctuous words, in which "honour,"
+"gratitude," and many fine long noble titles played the chief parts.
+The voice of another person, more clear and refined than theirs,
+answered them curtly, and then, close by the Nürnberg stove and the
+boy's ear, ejaculated a single "_Wunderschön_!" August almost lost his
+terror for himself in his thrill of pride at his beloved Hirschvogel
+being thus admired in the great city. He thought the master-potter
+must be glad too.
+
+"_Wunderschön_!" ejaculated the stranger a second time, and then
+examined the stove in all its parts, read all its mottoes, gazed long
+on all its devices.
+
+"It must have been made for the Emperor Maximilian," he said at last;
+and the poor little boy, meanwhile, within, was "hugged up into
+nothing," as you children say, dreading that every moment he would
+open the stove. And open it truly he did, and examined the brass-work
+of the door; but inside it was so dark that crouching August passed
+unnoticed, screwed up into a ball like a hedgehog as he was. The
+gentleman shut to the door at length, without having seen anything
+strange inside it; and then he talked long and low with the tradesmen,
+and, as his accent was different from that which August was used to,
+the child could distinguish little that he said, except the name of
+the king and the word "gulden" again and again. After a while he went
+away, one of the dealers accompanying him, one of them lingering
+behind to bar up the shutters. Then this one also withdrew again,
+double-locking the door.
+
+The poor little hedgehog uncurled itself and dared to breathe aloud.
+
+What time was it?
+
+Late in the day, he thought, for to accompany the stranger they had
+lighted a lamp; he had heard the scratch of the match, and through the
+brass fretwork had seen the lines of light.
+
+He would have to pass the night here, that was certain. He and
+Hirschvogel were locked in, but at least they were together. If only
+he could have had something to eat! He thought with a pang of how at
+this hour at home they ate the sweet soup, sometimes with apples in it
+from Aunt Maïla's farm orchard, and sang together, and listened to
+Dorothea's reading of little tales, and basked in the glow and delight
+that had beamed on them from the great Nürnberg fire-king.
+
+"Oh, poor, poor little 'Gilda! What is she doing without the dear
+Hirschvogel?" he thought. Poor little 'Gilda! she had only now the
+black iron stove of the ugly little kitchen. Oh, how cruel of father!
+
+August could not bear to hear the dealers blame or laugh at his
+father, but he did feel that it had been so, so cruel to sell
+Hirschvogel. The mere memory of all those long winter evenings, when
+they had all closed round it, and roasted chestnuts or crab-apples in
+it, and listened to the howling of the wind and the deep sound of the
+church-bells, and tried very much to make each other believe that the
+wolves still came down from the mountains into the streets of Hall,
+and were that very minute growling at the house door--all this memory
+coming on him with the sound of the city bells, and the knowledge that
+night drew near upon him so completely, being added to his hunger and
+his fear, so overcame him that he burst out crying for the fiftieth
+time since he had been inside the stove, and felt that he would starve
+to death, and wondered dreamily if Hirschvogel would care. Yes, he was
+sure Hirschvogel would care. Had he not decked it all summer long with
+alpine roses and edelweiss and heaths and made it sweet with thyme and
+honeysuckle and great garden-lilies? Had he ever forgotten when Santa
+Claus came to make it its crown of holly and ivy and wreathe it all
+around?
+
+"Oh, shelter me; save me; take care of me!" he prayed to the old
+fire-king, and forgot poor little man, that he had come on this
+wild-goose chase northward to save and take care of Hirschvogel!
+
+After a time he dropped asleep, as children can do when they weep, and
+little robust hill-born boys most surely do, be they where they may.
+It was not very cold in this lumber-room; it was tightly shut up, and
+very full of things, and at the back of it were the hot pipes of an
+adjacent house, where a great deal of fuel was burnt. Moreover,
+August's clothes were warm ones, and his blood was young. So he was
+not cold, though Munich is terribly cold in the nights of December;
+and he slept on and on--which was a comfort to him, for he forgot his
+woes, and his perils, and his hunger for a time.
+
+Midnight was once more chiming from all the brazen tongues of the
+city when he awoke, and, all being still around him, ventured to put
+his head out of the brass door of the stove to see why such a strange
+bright light was round him.
+
+It was a very strange and brilliant light indeed; and yet, what is
+perhaps still stranger, it did not frighten or amaze him, nor did what
+he saw alarm him either, and yet I think it would have done you or me.
+For what he saw was nothing less than all the _bric-à-brac_ in motion.
+
+A big jug, an Apostel-Krug, of Kruessen, was solemnly dancing a minuet
+with a plump Faenza jar; a tall Dutch clock was going through a
+gavotte with a spindle-legged ancient chair; a very droll porcelain
+figure of Zitzenhausen was bowing to a very stiff soldier in _terre
+cuite_ of Ulm; an old violin of Cremona was playing itself, and a
+queer little shrill plaintive music that thought itself merry came
+from a painted spinet covered with faded roses; some gilt Spanish
+leather had got up on the wall and laughed; a Dresden mirror was
+tripping about, crowned with flowers, and a Japanese bonze was riding
+along on a griffin; a slim Venetian rapier had come to blows with a
+stout Ferrara sabre, all about a little pale-faced chit of a damsel in
+white Nymphenburg china; and a portly Franconian pitcher in _grès
+gris_ was calling aloud, "Oh, these Italians! always at feud!" But
+nobody listened to him at all. A great number of little Dresden cups
+and saucers were all skipping and waltzing; the teapots, with their
+broad round faces, were spinning their own lids like teetotums; the
+high-backed gilded chairs were having a game of cards together; and a
+little Saxe poodle, with a blue ribbon at its throat, was running from
+one to another, whilst a yellow cat of Cornelis Zachtleven's rode
+about on a Delft horse in blue pottery of 1489. Meanwhile the
+brilliant light shed on the scene came from three silver candelabra,
+though they had no candles set up in them; and, what is the greatest
+miracle of all, August looked on at these mad freaks and felt no
+sensation of wonder! He only, as he heard the violin and the spinet
+playing, felt an irresistible desire to dance too.
+
+No doubt his face said what he wished; for a lovely little lady, all
+in pink and gold and white, with powdered hair, and high-heeled shoes,
+and all made of the very finest and fairest Meissen china, tripped up
+to him, and smiled, and gave him her hand, and led him out to a
+minuet. And he danced it perfectly--poor little August in his thick,
+clumsy shoes, and his thick, clumsy sheepskin jacket, and his rough
+homespun linen, and his broad Tyrolean hat! He must have danced it
+perfectly, this dance of kings and queens in days when crowns were
+duly honoured, for the lovely lady always smiled benignly and never
+scolded him at all, and danced so divinely herself to the stately
+measures the spinet was playing that August could not take his eyes
+off her till, the minuet ended, she sat down on her own white-and-gold
+bracket.
+
+"I am the Princess of Saxe-Royal," she said to him, with a benignant
+smile; "and you have got through that minuet very fairly."
+
+Then he ventured to say to her:
+
+"Madame my princess, could you tell me kindly why some of the figures
+and furniture dance and speak, and some lie up in a corner like
+lumber? It does make me curious. Is it rude to ask?"
+
+For it greatly puzzled him why, when some of the _bric-à-brac_ was all
+full of life and motion, some was quite still and had not a single
+thrill in it.
+
+"My dear child," said the powdered lady, "is it possible that you do
+not know the reason? Why, those silent, dull things are _imitation_."
+
+This she said with so much decision that she evidently considered it a
+condensed but complete answer.
+
+"Imitation?" repeated August, timidly, not understanding.
+
+"Of course! Lies, falsehoods, fabrications!" said the princess in pink
+shoes, very vivaciously. "They only _pretend_ to be what we are! They
+never wake up: how can they? No imitation ever had any soul in it
+yet."
+
+"Oh!" said August, humbly, not even sure that he understood entirely
+yet. He looked at Hirschvogel: surely it had a royal soul within it:
+would it not wake up and speak? Oh dear! how he longed to hear the
+voice of his fire-king! And he began to forget that he stood by a lady
+who sat upon a pedestal of gold-and-white china, with the year 1746
+cut on it, and the Meissen mark.
+
+"What will you be when you are a man?" said the little lady, sharply,
+for her black eyes were quick though her red lips were smiling. "Will
+you work for the _Konigliche Porcellan-Manufactur_, like my great dead
+Kandler?"
+
+"I have never thought," said August, stammering; "at least--that is--I
+do wish--I do hope to be a painter, as was Master Augustin Hirschvogel
+at Nürnberg."
+
+"Bravo!" said all the real _bric-à-brac_ in one breath, and the two
+Italian rapiers left off fighting to cry, "_Benone_!" For there is not
+a bit of true _bric-à-brac_ in all Europe that does not know the names
+of the mighty masters.
+
+August felt quite pleased to have won so much applause, and grew as
+red as the lady's shoes with bashful contentment.
+
+"I knew all the Hirschvogel, from old Veit downwards," said a fat
+_grès de Flandre_ beer-jug: "I myself was made at Nürnberg." And he
+bowed to the great stove very politely, taking off his own silver
+hat--I mean lid--with a courtly sweep that he could scarcely have
+learned from burgomasters. The stove, however, was silent, and a
+sickening suspicion (for what is such heart-break as a suspicion of
+what we love?) came through the mind of August: _Was Hirschvogel only
+imitation_?
+
+"No, no, no, no!" he said to himself, stoutly: though Hirschvogel
+never stirred, never spoke, yet would he keep all faith in it! After
+all their happy years together, after all the nights of warmth and joy
+he owed it, should he doubt his own friend and hero, whose gilt lion's
+feet he had kissed in his babyhood? "No, no, no, no!" he said, again,
+with so much emphasis that the Lady of Meissen looked sharply again at
+him.
+
+"No," she said, with pretty disdain; "no, believe me, they may
+'pretend' forever. They can never look like us! They imitate even our
+marks, but never can they look like the real thing, never can they
+_chassent de race_."
+
+"How should they?" said a bronze statuette of Vischer's "They daub
+themselves green with verdigris, or sit out in the rain to get rusted;
+but green and rust are not _patina_; only the ages can give that!"
+
+"And _my_ imitations are all in primary colours, staring colours, hot
+as the colours of a hostelry's sign-board!" said the Lady of Meissen,
+with a shiver.
+
+"Well, there is a _grès de Flandre_ over there, who pretends to be a
+Hans Kraut, as I am," said the jug with the silver hat, pointing with
+his handle to a jug that lay prone on its side in a corner. "He has
+copied me as exactly as it is given to moderns to copy us. Almost he
+might be mistaken for me. But yet what a difference there is! How
+crude are his blues! how evidently done over the glaze are his black
+letters! He has tried to give himself my very twist; but what a
+lamentable exaggeration of that playful deviation in my lines which in
+his becomes actual deformity!"
+
+"And look at that," said the gilt Cordovan leather, with a
+contemptuous glance at a broad piece of gilded leather spread out on a
+table. "They will sell him cheek by jowl with me, and give him my
+name; but look! _I_ am overlaid with pure gold beaten thin as a film
+and laid on me in absolute honesty by worthy Diego de las Gorgias,
+worker in leather of lovely Cordova in the blessed reign of Ferdinand
+the Most Christian. _His_ gilding is one part gold to eleven other
+parts of brass and rubbish, and it has been laid on him with a
+brush--_a brush_--pah! of course he will be as black as a crock in a
+few years' time, whilst I am as bright as when I first was made, and,
+unless I am burnt as my Cordova burnt its heretics, I shall shine on
+forever."
+
+"They carve pear-wood because it is so soft, and dye it brown, and
+call it _me_" said an old oak cabinet, with a chuckle.
+
+"That is not so painful; it does not vulgarise you so much as the cups
+they paint to-day and christen after _me_," said a Carl Theodor cup
+subdued in hue, yet gorgeous as a jewel.
+
+"Nothing can be so annoying as to see common gimcracks aping _me_,"
+interposed the princess in the pink shoes.
+
+"They even steal my motto, though it is Scripture," said a
+_Trauerkrug_ of Regensburg in black-and-white.
+
+"And my own dots they put on plain English china creatures!" sighed
+the little white maid of Nymphenburg.
+
+"And they sell hundreds and thousands of common china plates, calling
+them after me, and baking my saints and my legends in a muffle of
+to-day; it is blasphemy!" said a stout plate of Gubbio, which in its
+year of birth had seen the face of Maestro Giorgio.
+
+"That is what is so terrible in these _bric-à-brac_ places," said the
+princess of Meissen. "It brings one in contact with such low,
+imitative creatures; one really is safe nowhere nowadays unless under
+glass at the Louvre or South Kensington."
+
+"And they get even there," sighed the _grès de Flandre_. "A terrible
+thing happened to a dear friend of mine, a _terre cuite_ of Blasius
+(you know the _terres cuites_ of Blasius date from 1560). Well, he was
+put under glass in a museum that shall be nameless, and he found
+himself set next to his own imitation born and baked yesterday at
+Frankfort, and what think you the miserable creature said to him, with
+a grin? 'Old Pipeclay,' that is what he called my friend, 'the fellow
+that bought _me_ got just as much commission on me as the fellow that
+bought _you_, and that was all that _he_ thought about. You know it is
+only the public money that goes!' And the horrid creature grinned
+again till he actually cracked himself. There is a Providence above
+all things, even museums."
+
+"Providence might have interfered before, and saved the public money,"
+said the little Meissen lady with the pink shoes.
+
+"After all, does it matter?" said a Dutch jar of Haarlem, "All the
+shamming in the world will not _make_ them us!"
+
+"One does not like to be vulgarised," said the Lady of Meissen,
+angrily.
+
+"My maker, the Krabbetje,[1] did not trouble his head about that,"
+said the Haarlem jar, proudly. "The Krabbetje made me for the kitchen,
+the bright, clean, snow-white Dutch kitchen, well-nigh three centuries
+ago, and now I am thought worthy the palace; yet I wish I were at
+home; yes, I wish I could see the good Dutch vrouw, and the shining
+canals, and the great green meadows dotted with the kine."
+
+[Footnote 1: Jan Asselyn, called Krabbetje, the Little Crab, born
+1610, master-potter of Delft and Haarlem.]
+
+"Ah! if we could all go back to our makers!" sighed the Gubbio plate,
+thinking of Giorgio Andreoli and the glad and gracious days of the
+Renaissance: and somehow the words touched the frolicsome souls of the
+dancing jars, the spinning teapots, the chairs that were playing
+cards; and the violin stopped its merry music with a sob, and the
+spinet sighed--thinking of dead hands.
+
+Even the little Saxe poodle howled for a master forever lost; and only
+the swords went on quarrelling, and made such a clattering noise that
+the Japanese bonze rode at them on his monster and knocked them both
+right over, and they lay straight and still, looking foolish, and the
+little Nymphenburg maid, though she was crying, smiled and almost
+laughed.
+
+Then from where the great stove stood there came a solemn voice.
+
+All eyes turned upon Hirschvogel, and the heart of its little human
+comrade gave a great jump of joy.
+
+"My friends," said that clear voice from the turret of Nürnberg
+faïence, "I have listened to all you have said. There is too much
+talking among the Mortalities whom one of themselves has called the
+Windbags. Let not us be like them. I hear among men so much vain
+speech, so much precious breath and precious time wasted in empty
+boasts, foolish anger, useless reiteration, blatant argument, ignoble
+mouthings, that I have learned to deem speech a curse, laid on man to
+weaken and envenom all his undertakings. For over two hundred years I
+have never spoken myself: you, I hear, are not so reticent. I only
+speak now because one of you said a beautiful thing that touched me.
+If we all might but go back to our makers! Ah, yes! if we might! We
+were made in days when even men were true creatures, and so we, the
+work of their hands, were true too. We, the begotten of ancient days,
+derive all the value in us from the fact that our makers wrought at us
+with zeal, with piety, with integrity, with faith--not to win fortunes
+or to glut a market, but to do nobly an honest thing and create for
+the honour of the Arts and God. I see amidst you a little human thing
+who loves me, and in his own ignorant childish way loves Art. Now, I
+want him forever to remember this night and these words; to remember
+that we are what we are, and precious in the eyes of the world,
+because centuries ago those who were of single mind and of pure hand
+so created us, scorning sham and haste and counterfeit. Well do I
+recollect my master, Augustin Hirschvogel. He led a wise and blameless
+life, and wrought in loyalty and love, and made his time beautiful
+thereby, like one of his own rich, many-coloured church casements,
+that told holy tales as the sun streamed through them. Ah, yes, my
+friends, to go back to our masters!--that would be the best that could
+befall us. But they are gone, and even the perishable labours of their
+lives outlive them. For many, many years I, once honoured of emperors,
+dwelt in a humble house and warmed in successive winters three
+generations of little, cold, hungry children. When I warmed them they
+forgot that they were hungry; they laughed and told tales, and slept
+at last about my feet. Then I knew that humble as had become my lot it
+was one that my master would have wished for me, and I was content.
+Sometimes a tired woman would creep up to me, and smile because she
+was near me, and point out my golden crown or my ruddy fruit to a baby
+in her arms. That was better than to stand in a great hall of a great
+city, cold and empty, even though wise men came to gaze and throngs of
+fools gaped, passing with flattering words. Where I go now I know
+not; but since I go from that humble house where they loved me, I
+shall be sad and alone. They pass so soon--those fleeting mortal
+lives! Only we endure--we the things that the human brain creates. We
+can but bless them a little as they glide by: if we have done that, we
+have done what our masters wished. So in us our masters, being dead,
+yet may speak and live."
+
+Then the voice sank away in silence, and a strange golden light that
+had shone on the great stove faded away; so also the light died down
+in the silver candelabra. A soft, pathetic melody stole gently through
+the room. It came from the old, old spinet that was covered with the
+faded roses.
+
+Then that sad, sighing music of a bygone day died too; the clocks of
+the city struck six of the morning; day was rising over the
+Bayerischenwald. August awoke with a great start, and found himself
+lying on the bare bricks of the floor of the chamber; and all the
+_bric-à-brac_ was lying quite still all around. The pretty Lady of
+Meissen was motionless on her porcelain bracket, and the little Saxe
+poodle was quiet at her side.
+
+He rose slowly to his feet. He was very cold, but he was not sensible
+of it or of the hunger that was gnawing his little empty entrails. He
+was absorbed in the wondrous sight, in the wondrous sounds, that he
+had seen and heard.
+
+All was dark around him. Was it still midnight or had morning come?
+Morning, surely; for against the barred shutters he heard the tiny
+song of the robin.
+
+Tramp, tramp, too, came a heavy step up the stair. He had but a moment
+in which to scramble back into the interior of the great stove, when
+the door opened and the two dealers entered, bringing burning candles
+with them to see their way.
+
+August was scarcely conscious of danger more than he was of cold or
+hunger. A marvellous sense of courage, of security, of happiness, was
+about him, like strong and gentle arms enfolding him and lifting him
+upward--upward--upward! Hirschvogel would defend him.
+
+The dealers undid the shutters, scaring the red-breast away; and then
+tramped about in their heavy boots and chatted in contented voices,
+and began to wrap up the stove once more in all its straw and hay and
+cordage.
+
+It never once occurred to them to glance inside. Why should they look
+inside a stove that they had bought and were about to sell again for
+all its glorious beauty of exterior.
+
+The child still did not feel afraid. A great exaltation had come to
+him: he was like one lifted up by his angels.
+
+Presently the two traders called up their porters, and the stove,
+heedfully swathed and wrapped and tended as though it were some sick
+prince going on a journey, was borne on the shoulders of six stout
+Bavarians down the stairs and out of the door into the Marienplatz.
+Even behind all those wrappings August felt the icy bite of the
+intense cold of the outer air at dawn of a winter's day in Munich. The
+men moved the stove with exceeding gentleness and care, so that he had
+often been far more roughly shaken in his big brothers' arms than he
+was in his journey now; and though both hunger and thirst made
+themselves felt, being foes that will take no denial, he was still in
+that state of nervous exaltation which deadens all physical suffering
+and is at once a cordial and an opiate. He had heard Hirschvogel
+speak; that was enough.
+
+The stout carriers tramped through the city, six of them, with the
+Nürnberg fire-castle on their brawny shoulders, and went right across
+Munich to the railway-station, and August in the dark recognised all
+the ugly, jangling, pounding, roaring, hissing railway-noises, and
+thought, despite his courage and excitement, "Will it be a _very_ long
+journey?" For his stomach had at times an odd sinking sensation, and
+his head often felt sadly light and swimming. If it was a very, very
+long journey he felt half afraid that he would be dead or something
+bad before the end, and Hirschvogel would be so lonely: that was what
+he thought most about; not much about himself, and not much about
+Dorothea and the house at home. He was "high strung to high emprise,"
+and could not look behind him.
+
+Whether for a long or a short journey, whether for weal or woe, the
+stove with August still within it was once more hoisted up into a
+great van; but this time it was not all alone, and the two dealers as
+well as the six porters were all with it.
+
+He in his darkness knew that; for he heard their voices. The train
+glided away over the Bavarian plain southward; and he heard the men
+say something of Berg and the Wurm-See, but their German was strange
+to him, and he could not make out what these names meant.
+
+The train rolled on, with all its fume and fuss, and roar of steam,
+and stench of oil and burning coal. It had to go quietly and slowly on
+account of the snow which was falling, and which had fallen all night.
+
+"He might have waited till he came to the city," grumbled one man to
+another. "What weather to stay on at Berg!"
+
+But who he was that stayed on at Berg, August could not make out at
+all.
+
+Though the men grumbled about the state of the roads and the season,
+they were hilarious and well content, for they laughed often, and,
+when they swore, did so good-humouredly, and promised their porters
+fine presents at New Year; and August, like a shrewd little boy as he
+was, who even in the secluded Innthal had learned that money is the
+chief mover of men's mirth, thought to himself, with a terrible pang:
+
+"They have sold Hirschvogel for some great sum! They have sold him
+already!"
+
+Then his heart grew faint and sick within him, for he knew very well
+that he must soon die, shut up without food and water thus; and what
+new owner of the great fireplace would ever permit him to dwell in it?
+
+"Never mind; I _will_ die," thought he; "and Hirschvogel will know
+it."
+
+Perhaps you think him a very foolish little fellow; but I do not.
+
+It is always good to be loyal and ready to endure to the end.
+
+It is but an hour and a quarter that the train usually takes to pass
+from Munich to the Wurm-See or Lake of Starnberg but this morning the
+journey was much slower, because the way was encumbered by snow. When
+it did reach Possenhofen and stop, and the Nürnberg stove was lifted
+out once more, August could see through the fretwork of the brass
+door, as the stove stood upright facing the lake, that this Wurm-See
+was a calm and noble piece of water, of great width, with low wooded
+banks and distant mountains, a peaceful, serene place, full of rest.
+
+It was now near ten o'clock. The sun had come forth; there was a clear
+gray sky hereabouts; the snow was not falling, though it lay white and
+smooth everywhere, down to the edge of the water, which before long
+would itself be ice.
+
+Before he had time to get more than a glimpse of the green gliding
+surface, the stove was again lifted up and placed on a large boat that
+was in waiting--one of those very long and huge boats which the women
+in these parts use as laundries, and the men as timber-rafts. The
+stove, with much labour and much expenditure of time and care, was
+hoisted into this, and August would have grown sick and giddy with the
+heaving and falling if his big brothers had not long used him to such
+tossing about, so that he was as much at ease head, as feet, downward.
+The stove, once in it safely with its guardians, the big boat moved
+across the lake to Leoni. How a little hamlet on a Bavarian lake got
+that Tuscan-sounding name I cannot tell; but Leoni it is. The big boat
+was a long time crossing; the lake here is about three miles broad,
+and these heavy barges are unwieldy and heavy to move, even though
+they are towed and tugged at from the shore.
+
+"If we should be too late!" the two dealers muttered to each other, in
+agitation and alarm. "He said eleven o'clock."
+
+"Who was he?" thought August; "the buyer, of course, of Hirschvogel."
+The slow passage across the Wurm-See was accomplished at length: the
+lake was placid; there was a sweet calm in the air and on the water;
+there was a great deal of snow in the sky, though the sun was shining
+and gave a solemn hush to the atmosphere. Boats and one little steamer
+were going up and down; in the clear frosty light the distant
+mountains of Zillerthal and the Algau Alps were visible;
+market-people, cloaked and furred, went by on the water or on the
+banks; the deep woods of the shores were black and gray and brown.
+Poor August could see nothing of a scene that would have delighted
+him; as the stove was now set, he could only see the old worm-eaten
+wood of the huge barge.
+
+Presently they touched the pier at Leoni.
+
+"Now, men, for a stout mile and half! You shall drink your reward at
+Christmas time," said one of the dealers to his porters, who, stout,
+strong men as they were, showed a disposition to grumble at their
+task. Encouraged by large promises, they shouldered sullenly the
+Nürnberg stove, grumbling again at its preposterous weight, but little
+dreaming that they carried within it a small, panting, trembling boy;
+for August began to tremble now that he was about to see the future
+owner of Hirschvogel.
+
+"If he looks a good, kind man," he thought, "I will beg him to let me
+stay with it."
+
+The porters began their toilsome journey, and moved off from the
+village pier. He could see nothing, for the brass door was over his
+head, and all that gleamed through it was the clear gray sky. He had
+been tilted on to his back, and if he had not been a little
+mountaineer, used to hanging head-downward over crevasses, and,
+moreover, seasoned to rough treatment by the hunters and guides of the
+hills and the salt-workers in the town, he would have been made ill
+and sick by the bruising and shaking and many changes of position to
+which he had been subjected.
+
+The way the men took was a mile and a half in length, but the road was
+heavy with snow, and the burden they bore was heavier still. The
+dealers cheered them on, swore at them and praised them in one breath;
+besought them and reiterated their splendid promises, for a clock was
+striking eleven, and they had been ordered to reach their destination
+at that hour, and, though the air was so cold, the heat-drops rolled
+off their foreheads as they walked, they were so frightened at being
+late. But the porters would not budge a foot quicker than they chose,
+and as they were not poor four-footed carriers their employers dared
+not thrash them, though most willingly would they have done so.
+
+The road seemed terribly long to the anxious tradesmen, to the
+plodding porters, to the poor little man inside the stove, as he kept
+sinking and rising, sinking and rising, with each of their steps.
+
+Where they were going he had no idea, only after a very long time he
+lost the sense of the fresh icy wind blowing on his face through the
+brass-work above, and felt by their movements beneath him that they
+were mounting steps or stairs. Then he heard a great many different
+voices, but he could not understand what was being said. He felt that
+his bearers paused some time, then moved on and on again. Their feet
+went so softly he thought they must be moving on carpet, and as he
+felt a warm air come to him he concluded that he was in some heated
+chambers, for he was a clever little fellow, and could put two and two
+together, though he was so hungry and so thirsty and his empty stomach
+felt so strangely. They must have gone, he thought, through some very
+great number of rooms, for they walked so long on and on, on and on.
+At last the stove was set down again, and, happily for him, set so
+that his feet were downward.
+
+What he fancied was that he was in some museum, like that which he had
+seen in the city of Innspruck.
+
+The voices he heard were very hushed, and the steps seemed to go away,
+far away, leaving him alone with Hirschvogel. He dared not look out,
+but he peeped through the brass-work, and all he could see was a big
+carved lion's head in ivory, with a gold crown atop. It belonged to a
+velvet fauteuil, but he could not see the chair, only the ivory lion.
+
+There was a delicious fragrance in the air--a fragrance as flowers.
+"Only how can it be flowers?" thought August. "It is November!"
+
+From afar off, as it seemed, there came a dreamy, exquisite music, as
+sweet as the spinet's had been, but so much fuller, so much richer,
+seeming as though a chorus of angels were singing all together. August
+ceased to think of the museum; he thought of heaven. "Are we gone to
+the Master?" he thought, remembering the words of Hirschvogel.
+
+All was so still around him; there was no sound anywhere except the
+sound of the far-off choral music.
+
+He did not know it, but he was in the royal castle of Berg, and the
+music he heard was the music of Wagner, who was playing in a distant
+room some of the motives of "Parsival."
+
+Presently he heard a fresh step near him, and he heard a low voice
+say, close behind him, "So!" An exclamation no doubt, he thought, of
+admiration and wonder at the beauty of Hirschvogel.
+
+Then the same voice said, after a long pause, during which no doubt,
+as August thought, this newcomer was examining all the details of the
+wondrous fire-tower, "It was well bought; it is exceedingly beautiful!
+It is most undoubtedly the work of Augustin Hirschvogel."
+
+Then the hand of the speaker turned the round handle of the brass
+door, and the fainting soul of the poor little prisoner within grew
+sick with fear.
+
+The handle turned, the door was slowly drawn open, someone bent down
+and looked in, and the same voice that he had heard in praise of its
+beauty called aloud, in surprise, "What is this in it? A live child!"
+
+Then August, terrified beyond all self control, and dominated by one
+master-passion, sprang out of the body of the stove and fell at the
+feet of the speaker.
+
+"Oh, let me stay! Pray, meinherr, let me stay!" he sobbed. "I have
+come all the way with Hirschvogel!"
+
+Some gentlemen's hands seized him, not gently by any means, and their
+lips angrily muttered in his ear, "Little knave, peace! be quiet! hold
+your tongue! It is the king!"
+
+They were about to drag him out of the august atmosphere as if he had
+been some venomous, dangerous beast come there to slay, but the voice
+he had heard speak of the stove said, in kind accents, "Poor little
+child! he is very young. Let him go: let him speak to me."
+
+The word of a king is law to his courtiers: so, sorely against their
+wish, the angry and astonished chamberlains let August slide out of
+their grasp, and he stood there in his little rough sheepskin coat and
+his thick, mud-covered boots, with his curling hair all in a tangle,
+in the midst of the most beautiful chamber he had ever dreamed of, and
+in the presence of a young man with a beautiful dark face, and eyes
+full of dreams and fire; and the young man said to him:
+
+"My child, how came you here, hidden in this stove? Be not afraid:
+tell me the truth. I am the king."
+
+August in an instinct of homage cast his great battered black hat with
+the tarnished gold tassels down on the floor of the room, and folded
+his little brown hands in supplication. He was too intensely in
+earnest to be in any way abashed; he was too lifted out of himself by
+his love for Hirschvogel to be conscious of any awe before any earthly
+majesty. He was only so glad--so glad it was the king. Kings were
+always kind; so the Tyrolese think, who love their lords.
+
+"Oh, dear king!" he said, with trembling entreaty in his faint little
+voice, "Hirschvogel was ours, and we have loved it all our lives; and
+father sold it. And when I saw that it did really go from us, then I
+said to myself I would go with it; and I have come all the way inside
+it. And last night it spoke and said beautiful things. And I do pray
+you to let me live with it, and I will go out every morning and cut
+wood for it and you, if only you will let me stay beside it. No one
+ever has fed it with fuel but me since I grew big enough, and it loves
+me; it does indeed; it said so last night; and it said that it had
+been happier with us than if it were in any palace--"
+
+And then his breath failed him, and, as he lifted his little eager,
+pale face to the young king's, great tears were falling down his
+cheeks.
+
+Now, the king liked all poetic and uncommon things, and there was that
+in the child's face which pleased and touched him. He motioned to his
+gentlemen to leave the little boy alone.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked him.
+
+"I am August Strehla. My father is Hans Strehla. We live in Hall, in
+the Innthal; and Hirschvogel has been ours so long--so long!"
+
+His lips quivered with a broken sob.
+
+"And have you truly travelled inside this stove all the way from
+Tyrol?"
+
+"Yes," said August; "no one thought to look inside till you did."
+
+The king laughed; then another view of the matter occurred to him.
+
+"Who bought the stove of your father?" he inquired.
+
+"Traders of Munich," said August, who did not know that he ought not
+to have spoken to the king as to a simple citizen, and whose little
+brain was whirling and spinning dizzily round its one central idea.
+
+"What sum did they pay your father, do you know?" asked the sovereign.
+
+"Two hundred florins," said August, with a great sigh of shame. "It
+was so much money, and he is so poor, and there are so many of us."
+
+The king turned to his gentlemen-in-waiting. "Did these dealers of
+Munich come with the stove?"
+
+He was answered in the affirmative. He desired them to be sought for
+and brought before him. As one of his chamberlains hastened on the
+errand, the monarch looked at August with compassion.
+
+"You are very pale, little fellow: when did you eat last?"
+
+"I had some bread and sausage with me; yesterday afternoon I finished
+it."
+
+"You would like to eat now?"
+
+"If I might have a little water I would be glad; my throat is very
+dry."
+
+The king had water and wine brought for him, and cake also; but
+August, though he drank eagerly, could not swallow anything. His mind
+was in too great a tumult.
+
+"May I stay with Hirschvogel?--may I stay?" he said with feverish
+agitation.
+
+"Wait a little," said the king, and asked, abruptly, "What do you wish
+to be when you are a man?"
+
+"A painter. I wish to be what Hirschvogel was--I mean the master that
+made _my_ Hirschvogel."
+
+"I understand," said the king.
+
+Then the two dealers were brought into their sovereign's presence.
+They were so terribly alarmed, not being either so innocent or so
+ignorant as August was that they were trembling as though they were
+being led to the slaughter, and they were so utterly astonished too at
+a child having come all the way from Tyrol in the stove, as a
+gentleman of the court had just told them this child had done, that
+they could not tell what to say or where to look, and presented a very
+foolish aspect indeed.
+
+"Did you buy this Nürnberg stove of this little boy's father for two
+hundred florins?" the king asked them; and his voice was no longer
+soft and kind as it had been when addressing the child, but very
+stern.
+
+"Yes, your majesty," murmured the trembling traders.
+
+"And how much did the gentleman who purchased it for me give to you?"
+
+"Two thousand ducats, your majesty," muttered the dealers, frightened
+out of their wits, and telling the truth in their fright.
+
+The gentleman was not present: he was a trusted counselor in art
+matters of the king's, and often made purchases for him.
+
+The king smiled a little, and said nothing. The gentleman had made out
+the price to him as eleven thousand ducats.
+
+"You will give at once to this boy's father the two thousand gold
+ducats that you received, less the two hundred Austrian florins that
+you paid him," said the king to his humiliated and abject subjects.
+"You are great rogues. Be thankful you are not more greatly punished."
+
+He dismissed them by a sign to his courtiers, and to one of these gave
+the mission of making the dealers of the Marienplatz disgorge their
+ill-gotten gains.
+
+August heard, and felt dazzled yet miserable. Two thousand gold
+Bavarian ducats for his father! Why, his father would never need to go
+any more to the salt-baking! And yet, whether for ducats or for
+florins, Hirschvogel was sold just the same, and would the king let
+him stay with it?--would he?
+
+"Oh, do! oh, please do!" he murmured, joining his little brown
+weather-stained hands, and kneeling down before the young monarch, who
+himself stood absorbed in painful thought, for the deception so basely
+practised for the greedy sake of gain on him by a trusted counsellor
+was bitter to him.
+
+He looked down on the child, and as he did so smiled once more.
+
+"Rise up, my little man," he said, in a kind voice; "kneel only to
+your God. Will I let you stay with your Hirschvogel? Yes, I will, you
+shall stay at my court, and you shall be taught to be a painter--in
+oils or on porcelain as you will--and you must grow up worthily, and
+win all the laurels at our Schools of Art, and if when you are
+twenty-one years old you have done well and bravely, then I will give
+you your Nürnberg stove, or, if I am no more living, then those who
+reign after me shall do so. And now go away with this gentleman, and
+be not afraid, and you shall light a fire every morning in
+Hirschvogel, but you will not need to go out and cut the wood."
+
+Then he smiled and stretched out his hand; the courtiers tried to make
+August understand that he ought to bow and touch it with his lips, but
+August could not understand that anyhow; he was too happy. He threw
+his two arms about the king's knees, and kissed his feet passionately;
+then he lost all sense of where he was, and fainted away from hunger,
+and tire, and emotion, and wondrous joy.
+
+As the darkness of his swoon closed in on him, he heard in his fancy
+the voice from Hirschvogel saying:
+
+"Let us be worthy our maker!"
+
+He is only a scholar yet, but he is a happy scholar, and promises to
+be a great man. Sometimes he goes back for a few days to Hall, where
+the gold ducats have made his father prosperous. In the old house-room
+there is a large white porcelain stove of Munich, the king's gift to
+Dorothea and 'Gilda.
+
+And August never goes home without going into the great church and
+saying his thanks to God, who blessed his strange winter's journey in
+the Nürnberg stove. As for his dream in the dealers' room that night,
+he will never admit that he did dream it; he still declares that he
+saw it all and heard the voice of Hirschvogel. And who shall say that
+he did not? for what is the gift of the poet and the artist except to
+see the sights which others cannot see and to hear the sounds that
+others cannot hear?
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+RAB AND HIS FRIENDS
+
+
+Four-and-thirty years ago, Bob Ainslie and I were coming up Infirmary
+Street from the Edinburgh High School, our heads together, and our
+arms intertwisted, as only lovers and boys know how, or why.
+
+When we got to the top of the street, and turned north, we espied a
+crowd at the Tron Church. "A dog-fight!" shouted Bob, and was off; and
+so was I, both of us all but praying that it might not be over before
+we got up! And is not this boy-nature? and human nature too? and don't
+we all wish a house on fire not to be out before we see it? Dogs like
+fighting; old Isaac says they "delight" in it, and for the best of all
+reasons; and boys are not cruel because they like to see the fight.
+They see three of the great cardinal virtues of dog or man--courage,
+endurance, and skill--in intense action. This is very different from a
+love of making dogs fight, and enjoying, and aggravating, and making
+gain by their pluck. A boy--be he ever so fond himself of fighting, if
+he be a good boy, hates and despises all this, but he would run off
+with Bob and me fast enough: it is a natural, and not wicked interest,
+that all boys and men have in witnessing intense energy in action.
+
+Does any curious and finely-ignorant woman wish to know how Bob's eye
+at a glance announced a dog-fight to his brain? He did not, he could
+not see the dogs fighting; it was a flash of an inference, a rapid
+induction. The crowd round a couple of dogs fighting, is a crowd
+masculine mainly, with an occasional active, compassionate woman,
+fluttering wildly round the outside, and using her tongue and her
+hands freely upon the men, as so many "brutes;" it is a crowd annular,
+compact, and mobile; a crowd centripetal, having its eyes and its
+heads all bent downwards and inwards, to one common focus.
+
+Well, Bob and I are up, and find it is not over: a small thoroughbred,
+white bull-terrier, is busy throttling a large shepherd's dog,
+unaccustomed to war, but not to be trifled with. They are hard at it;
+the scientific little fellow doing his work in great style, his
+pastoral enemy fighting wildly, but with the sharpest of teeth and a
+great courage. Science and breeding, however, soon had their own; the
+Game Chicken, as the premature Bob called him, working his way up,
+took his final grip of poor Yarrow's throat--and he lay gasping and
+done for. His master, a brown, handsome, big young shepherd from
+Tweedsmuir, would have liked to have knocked down any man, would
+"drink up Esil, or eat a crocodile," for that part, if he had a
+chance: it was no use kicking the little dog; that would only make him
+hold the closer. Many were the means shouted out in mouthfuls, of the
+best possible ways of ending it. "Water!" but there was none near, and
+many cried for it who might have got it from the well at Blackfriars
+Wynd. "Bite the tail!" and a large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+man, more desirous than wise, with some struggle got the bushy end of
+_Yarrow's_ tail into his ample mouth, and bit it with all his might.
+This was more than enough for the much-enduring, much-perspiring
+shepherd, who, with a gleam of joy over his broad visage, delivered a
+terrific facer upon our large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+friend--who went down like a shot.
+
+Still the Chicken holds; death not far off. "Snuff! a pinch of
+snuff!" observed a calm, highly-dressed young buck, with an eye-glass
+in his eye. "Snuff, indeed!" growled the angry crowd, affronted and
+glaring. "Snuff! a pinch of snuff!" again observes the buck but with
+more urgency; whereon were produced several open boxes, and from a
+mull which may have been at Culloden, he took a pinch, knelt down, and
+presented it to the nose of the Chicken. The laws of physiology and of
+snuff take their course; the Chicken sneezes, and Yarrow is free!
+
+The young pastoral giant stalks off with Yarrow in his
+arms--comforting him.
+
+But the Bull Terrier's blood is up, and his soul unsatisfied; he grips
+the first dog he meets, and discovering she is not a dog, in Homeric
+phrase, he makes a brief sort of _amende_, and is off. The boys, with
+Bob and me at their head, are after him: down Niddry Street he goes,
+bent on mischief; up the Cowgate like an arrow--Bob and I, and our
+small men, panting behind.
+
+There, under the single arch of the South Bridge, is a huge mastiff,
+sauntering down the middle of the causeway, as if with his hands in
+his pockets: he is old, gray, brindled, as big as a little Highland
+bull, and has the Shakespearian dewlaps shaking as he goes.
+
+The Chicken makes straight at him, and fastens on his throat. To our
+astonishment, the great creature does nothing but stand still, hold
+himself up, and roar--yes, roar; a long, serious, remonstrative roar.
+How is this? Bob and I are up to them. _He is muzzled_! The bailies
+had proclaimed a general muzzling, and his master, studying strength
+and economy mainly, had encompassed his huge jaws in a home-made
+apparatus, constructed out of the leather of some ancient _breechin_.
+His mouth was open as far as it could; his lips curled up in rage--a
+sort of terrible grin; his teeth gleaming, ready, from out the
+darkness, the strap across his mouth tense as a bowstring; his whole
+frame stiff with indignation and surprise; his roar asking us all
+round, "Did you ever see the like of this?" He looked a statue of
+anger and astonishment, done in Aberdeen granite.
+
+We soon had a crowd: the Chicken held on. "A knife!" cried Bob; and a
+cobbler gave him his knife: you know the kind of knife, worn away
+obliquely to a point, and always keen. I put its edge to the tense
+leather; it ran before it; and then!--one sudden jerk of that enormous
+head, a sort of dirty mist about his mouth, no noise--and the bright
+and fierce little fellow is dropped, limp, and dead. A solemn pause:
+this was more than any of us had bargained for. I turned the little
+fellow over, and saw he was quite dead; the mastiff had taken him by
+the small of the back like a rat, and broken it.
+
+He looked down at his victim appeased, ashamed, and amazed; snuffed
+him all over, stared at him, and taking a sudden thought, turned round
+and trotted off. Bob took the dead dog up, and said, "John, we'll bury
+him after tea." "Yes," said I, and was off after the mastiff. He made
+up the Cowgate at a rapid swing; he had forgotten some engagement. He
+turned up the Candlemaker Row, and stopped at the Harrow Inn.
+
+There was a carrier's cart ready to start, and a keen thin, impatient,
+black-a-vised little man, his hand at his gray horse's head, looking
+about angrily for something. "Rab, ye thief!" said he, aiming a kick
+at my great friend, who drew cringing up, and avoiding the heavy shoe
+with more agility than dignity, and watching his master's eye, slunk
+dismayed under the cart--his ears down, and as much as he had of tail
+down too.
+
+What a man this must be--thought I--to whom my tremendous hero turns
+tail. The carrier saw the muzzle hanging, cut and useless, from his
+neck, and I eagerly told him the story, which Bob and I always
+thought, and still think, Homer, or King David, or Sir Walter alone
+were worthy to rehearse. The severe little man was mitigated, and
+condescended to say, "Rab, my man, puir Rabbie,"--whereupon the stump
+of a tail rose up, the ears were cocked, the eyes filled, and were
+comforted; the two friends were reconciled. "Hupp!" and a stroke of
+the whip were given to Jess; and off went the three.
+
+Bob and I buried the Game Chicken that night (we had not much of a
+tea) in the back-green of his house in Melville Street, No. 17, with
+considerable gravity and silence; and being at the time in the Iliad,
+and, like all boys, Trojans, we called him Hector of course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six years have passed--a long time for a boy and a dog: Bob Ainslie is
+off to the wars; I am a medical student and clerk at Minto House
+Hospital.
+
+Rab I saw almost every week, on the Wednesday and we had much pleasant
+intimacy. I found the way to his heart by frequent scratching of his
+huge head, and an occasional bone. When I did not notice him he would
+plant himself straight before me, and stand wagging that butt of a
+tail, and looking up, with his head a little to one side. His master I
+occasionally saw; he used to call me "Maister John," but was laconic
+as any Spartan.
+
+One fine October afternoon, I was leaving the hospital when I saw the
+large gate open, and in walked Rab, with that great and easy saunter
+of his. He looked as if taking general possession of the place; like
+the Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city, satiated with victory
+and peace. After him came Jess, now white from age, with her cart; and
+in it a woman, carefully wrapped up--the carrier leading the horse
+anxiously, and looking back. When he saw me, James (for his name was
+James Noble) made a curt and grotesque "boo," and said, "Maister John,
+this is the mistress; she's got a trouble in her breest--some kind o'
+an income we're thinkin'."
+
+By this time I saw the woman's face; she was sitting on a sack filled
+with straw, her husband's plaid round her, and his big-coat with its
+large white metal buttons over her feet.
+
+I never saw a more unforgettable face--pale, serious, _lonely_,
+delicate, sweet, without being at all what we call fine. She looked
+sixty, and had on a mutch, white as snow, with its black ribbon; her
+silvery, smooth hair setting off her dark-gray eyes--eyes such as one
+sees only twice or thrice in a lifetime, full of suffering, full also
+of the overcoming of it: her eyebrows black and delicate, and her
+mouth firm, patient, and contented, which few mouths ever are.
+
+As I have said, I never saw a more beautiful countenance or one more
+subdued to settled quiet. "Ailie," said James, "this is Maister John,
+the young doctor; Rab's freend, ye ken. We often speak aboot you,
+doctor." She smiled, and made a movement, but said nothing; and prepared
+to come down, putting her plaid aside and rising. Had Solomon, in all
+his glory, been handing down the Queen of Sheba at his palace gate he
+could not have done it more daintily, more tenderly, more like a
+gentleman, than did James the Howgate carrier, when he lifted down Ailie
+his wife. The contrast of his small, swarthy, weather-beaten, keen,
+worldly face to hers--pale, subdued, and beautiful--was something
+wonderful. Rab looked on concerned and puzzled, but ready for anything
+that might turn up--were it to strangle the nurse, the porter, or even
+me. Ailie and he seemed great friends.
+
+"As I was sayin' she's got a kind o' trouble in her breest, doctor;
+wull ye tak' a look at it?" We walked into the consulting-room, all
+four; Rab grim and comic, willing to be happy and confidential if
+cause could be shown, willing also to be the reverse, on the same
+terms. Ailie sat down, undid her open gown and her lawn handkerchief
+round her neck, and without a word, showed me her right breast. I
+looked at and examined it carefully--she and James watching me, and
+Rab eyeing all three. What could I say? there it was, that had once
+been so soft, so shapely, so white, so gracious and bountiful, so
+"full of all blessed conditions,"--hard as a stone, a centre of horrid
+pain, making that pale face with its gray, lucid, reasonable eyes, and
+its sweet resolved mouth, express the full measure of suffering
+overcome. Why was that gentle, modest, sweet woman, clean and lovable,
+condemned by God to bear such a burden?
+
+I got her away to bed. "May Rab and me bide?" said James. "_You_ may;
+and Rab, if he will behave himself." "I'se warrant he's do that,
+doctor;" and in slank the faithful beast. I wish you could have seen
+him. There are no such dogs now. He belonged to a lost tribe. As I
+have said, he was brindled and gray like Rubislaw granite; his hair
+short, hard, and close, like a lion's; his body thick set like a
+little bull--a sort of compressed Hercules of a dog. He must have
+been ninety pounds' weight, at the least; he had a large blunt head;
+his muzzle black as night, his mouth blacker than any night, a tooth
+or two--being all he had--gleaming out of his jaws of darkness. His
+head was scarred with the records of old wounds, a sort of series of
+fields of battle all over it; one eye out, one ear cropped as close as
+was Archbishop Leighton's father's; the remaining eye had the power of
+two; and above it, and in constant communication with it, was a
+tattered rag of an ear, which was forever unfurling itself, like an
+old flag; and then that bud of a tail, about one inch long, if it
+could in any sense be said to be long, being as broad as long--the
+mobility, the instantaneousness of that bud were very funny and
+surprising, and its expressive twinklings and winkings, the
+intercommunications between the eye, the ear, and it, were of the
+oddest and swiftest.
+
+Rab had the dignity and simplicity of great size; and having fought
+his way along the road to absolute supremacy, he was as mighty in his
+own line as Julius Cæsar or the Duke of Wellington, and had the
+gravity of all great fighters.
+
+You must have often observed the likeness of certain men to certain
+animals, and of certain dogs to men. Now, I never looked at Rab
+without thinking of the great Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller. The
+same large, heavy, menacing, combative, sombre, honest countenance,
+the same deep inevitable eye, the same look--as of thunder asleep, but
+ready--neither a dog nor a man to be trifled with.
+
+Next day, my master, the surgeon, examined Ailie. There was no doubt
+it must kill her, and soon. It could be removed--it might never
+return--it would give her speedy relief--she should have it done. She
+curtsied, looked at James, and said, "When?" "To-morrow," said the
+kind surgeon--a man of few words. She and James and Rab and I retired.
+I noticed that he and she spoke little, but seemed to anticipate
+everything in each other. The following day, at noon, the students
+came in, hurrying up the great stair. At the first landing-place, on a
+small well-known blackboard, was a bit of paper fastened by wafers,
+and many remains of old wafers beside it. On the paper were the
+words--"An operation to-day. J.B. _Clerk_."
+
+Up ran the youths, eager to secure good places: in they crowded, full
+of interest and talk. "What's the case?" "Which side is it?"
+
+Don't think them heartless; they are neither better nor worse than you
+or I; they get over their professional horrors, and into their proper
+work--and in them pity--as an _emotion_, ending in itself or at best
+in tears and a long-drawn breath, lessens, while pity as a _motive_,
+is quickened, and gains power and purpose. It is well for poor human
+nature that it is so.
+
+The operating theatre is crowded; much talk and fun, and all the
+cordiality and stir of youth. The surgeon with his staff of assistants
+is there. In comes Ailie: one look at her quiets and abates the eager
+students. That beautiful old woman is too much for them; they sit
+down, and are dumb, and gaze at her. These rough boys feel the power
+of her presence. She walks in quickly, but without haste; dressed in
+her mutch, her neckerchief, her white dimity short-gown, her black
+bombazine petticoat, showing her white worsted stockings and her
+carpet-shoes. Behind her was James with Rab. James sat down in the
+distance, and took that huge and noble head between his knees. Rab
+looked perplexed and dangerous; forever cocking his ear and dropping
+it as fast.
+
+Ailie stepped up on a seat, and laid herself on the table as her
+friend the surgeon told her; arranged herself, gave a rapid look at
+James, shut her eyes, rested herself on me, and took my hand. The
+operation was at once begun; it was necessarily slow; and
+chloroform--one of God's best gifts to his suffering children--was
+then unknown. The surgeon did his work. The pale face showed its pain,
+but was still and silent. Rab's soul was working within him; he saw
+that something strange was going on--blood flowing from his mistress,
+and she suffering; his ragged ear was up, and importunate; he growled
+and gave now and then a sharp impatient yelp; he would have liked to
+have done something to that man. But James had him firm, and gave him
+a _glower_ from time to time, and an intimation of a possible
+kick;--all the better for James, it kept his eye and his mind off
+Ailie.
+
+It is over: she is dressed, steps gently and decently down from the
+table, looks for James; then, turning to the surgeon and the students,
+she curtsies--and in a low, clear voice, begs their pardon if she has
+behaved ill. The students--all of us--wept like children; the surgeon
+happed her up carefully--and, resting on James and me, Ailie went to
+her room, Rab following. We put her to bed. James took off his heavy
+shoes, crammed with tackets, heel-capt and toe-capt, and put them
+carefully under the table, saying, "Maister John, I'm for nane o'yer
+strynge nurse bodies for Ailie. I'll be her nurse, and I'll gang aboot
+on my stockin' soles as canny as pussy." And so he did; and handy and
+clever, and swift and tender as any woman, was that horny-handed,
+snell, peremptory little man. Everything she got he gave her: he
+seldom slept; and often I saw his small shrewd eyes out of the
+darkness, fixed on her. As before, they spoke little.
+
+Rab behaved well, never moving, showing us how meek and gentle he
+could be, and occasionally, in his sleep, letting us know that he was
+demolishing some adversary. He took a walk with me every day,
+generally to the Candlemaker Row; but he was sombre and mild; declined
+doing battle, though some fit cases offered, and indeed submitted to
+sundry indignities; and was always very ready to turn, and came faster
+back, and trotted up the stair with much lightness, and went straight
+to that door.
+
+Jess, the mare, had been sent, with her weather-worn cart, to Howgate,
+and had doubtless her own dim and placid meditations and confusions,
+on the absence of her master and Rab, and her unnatural freedom from
+the road and her cart.
+
+For some days Ailie did well. The wound healed "by the first
+intention;" for as James said, "Oor Ailie's skin's ower clean to
+beil." The students came in quiet and anxious, and surrounded her bed.
+She said she liked to see their young, honest faces. The surgeon
+dressed her, and spoke to her in his own short kind way, pitying her
+through his eyes, Rab and James outside the circle--Rab being now
+reconciled, and even cordial, and having made up his mind that as yet
+nobody required worrying, but, as you may suppose, _semper paratus_.
+
+So far well: but, four days after the operation, my patient had a
+sudden and long shivering, a "groosin'," as she called it. I saw her
+soon after; her eyes were too bright, her cheek coloured; she was
+restless, and ashamed of being so; the balance was lost; mischief had
+begun. On looking at the wound, a blush of red told the secret: her
+pulse was rapid, her breathing anxious and quick, she wasn't herself,
+as she said, and was vexed at her restlessness. We tried what we
+could; James did everything, was everywhere; never in the way, never
+out of it; Rab subsided under the table into a dark place, and was
+motionless, all but his eye, which followed every one. Ailie got
+worse; began to wander in her mind, gently; was more demonstrative in
+her ways to James, rapid in her questions, and sharp at times. He was
+vexed, and said, "She was never that way afore; no, never." For a time
+she knew her head was wrong, and was always asking our pardon--the
+dear, gentle old woman: then delirium set in strong, without pause.
+Her brain gave way, and then came that terrible spectacle--
+
+     "The intellectual power, through words and things,
+      Went sounding on its dim and perilous way."
+
+she sang bits of old songs and Psalms, stopping suddenly, mingling the
+Psalms of David and the diviner words of his Son and Lord, with homely
+odds and ends and scraps of ballads.
+
+Nothing more touching, or in a sense more strangely beautiful, did I
+ever witness. Her tremulous, rapid, affectionate, eager, Scotch
+voice--the swift, aimless, bewildered mind, the baffled utterance, the
+bright and perilous eye; some wild words, some household cares,
+something for James, the names of the dead, Rab called rapidly and in
+a "fremyt" voice, and he starting up surprised, and slinking off as if
+he were to blame somehow, or had been dreaming he heard; many eager
+questions and beseechings which James and I could make nothing of, and
+on which she seemed to set her all, and then sink back ununderstood.
+It was very sad, but better than many things that are not called sad.
+James hovered about, put out and miserable, but active and exact as
+ever; read to her when there was a lull, short bits from the Psalms,
+prose and metre, chanting the latter in his own rude and serious way,
+showing great knowledge of the fit words, bearing up like a man, and
+doating over her as his "ain Ailie." "Ailie, ma woman!" "Ma ain bonnie
+wee dawtie!"
+
+The end was drawing on: the golden bowl was breaking; the silver cord
+was fast being loosed--that _animula blandula, vagula, hospes,
+comesque_, was about to flee. The body and the soul--companions for
+sixty years--were being sundered, and taking leave. She was walking
+alone, through the valley of that shadow, into which one day we must
+all enter--and yet she was not alone, for we know whose rod and staff
+were comforting her.
+
+One night she had fallen quiet, and as we hoped, asleep; her eyes were
+shut. We put down the gas and sat watching her. Suddenly she sat up in
+bed, and taking a bed-gown which was lying on it rolled up, she held
+it eagerly to her breast--to the right side. We could see her eyes
+bright with a surprising tenderness and joy, bending over this bundle
+of clothes. She held it as a woman holds her sucking child; opening
+out her night-gown impatiently, and holding it close, and brooding
+over it, and murmuring foolish little words, as over one whom his
+mother comforteth, and who sucks and is satisfied. It was pitiful and
+strange to see her wasted dying look, keen and yet vague--her immense
+love.
+
+"Preserve me!" groaned James, giving way. And then she rocked back and
+forward, as if to make it sleep, hushing it, and wasting on it her
+infinite fondness. "Wae's me, doctor; I declare she's thinkin' it's
+that bairn." "What bairn?" "The only bairn we ever had; our wee Mysie,
+and she's in the Kingdom, forty years and mair." It was plainly true:
+the pain in the breast, telling its urgent story to a bewildered,
+ruined brain, was misread and mistaken; it suggested to her the
+uneasiness of a breast full of milk and then the child; and so again
+once more they were together and she had her ain wee Mysie in her
+bosom.
+
+This was the close. She sank rapidly: the delirium left her; but as,
+she whispered, she was "clean silly;" it was the lightening before the
+final darkness. After having for some time lain still--her eyes shut,
+she said "James!" He came close to her, and lifting up her calm,
+clear, beautiful eyes, she gave him a long look, turned to me kindly
+but shortly, looked for Rab but could not see him, then turned to her
+husband again, as if she would never leave off looking, shut her eyes,
+and composed herself. She lay for some time breathing quick, and
+passed away so gently, that when we thought she was gone, James, in
+his old-fashioned way, held the mirror to her face. After a long
+pause, one small spot of dimness was breathed out; it vanished away,
+and never returned, leaving the blank clear darkness of the mirror
+without a stain. "What is our life? it is even a vapour, which
+appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away."
+
+Rab all this time had been full awake and motionless; he came forward
+beside us: Ailie's hand, which James had held, was hanging down, it
+was soaked with his tears; Rab licked it all over carefully, looked at
+her, and returned to his place under the table.
+
+James and I sat, I don't know how long, but for some time--saying
+nothing: he started up abruptly, and with some noise went to the
+table, and putting his right fore and middle fingers each into a shoe,
+pulled them out, and put them on, breaking one of the leather
+latchets, and muttering in anger, "I never did the like o' that
+afore!"
+
+I believe he never did; nor after either. "Rab!" he said roughly, and
+pointing with his thumb to the bottom of the bed. Rab leapt up and
+settled himself; his head and eye to the dead face. "Maister John,
+ye'll wait for me," said the carrier; and disappeared in the darkness,
+thundering downstairs in his heavy shoes. I ran to a front window;
+there he was, already round the house, and out at the gate, fleeing
+like a shadow.
+
+I was afraid about him, and yet not afraid; so I sat down beside Rab,
+and being wearied, fell asleep. I awoke from a sudden noise outside.
+It was November, and there had been a heavy fall of snow. Rab was _in
+statu quo_; he heard the noise too, and plainly knew it, but never
+moved. I looked out; and there, at the gate, in the dim morning--for
+the sun was not up--was Jess and the cart--a cloud of steam rising
+from the old mare. I did not see James; he was already at the door,
+and came up the stairs and met me. It was less than three hours since
+he left, and he must have posted out--who knows how?--to Howgate, full
+nine miles off; yoked Jess, and driven her astonished into town. He
+had an armful of blankets and was streaming with perspiration. He
+nodded to me, spread out on the floor two pairs of clean old blankets
+having at their corners, "A.G., 1794," in large letters in red
+worsted. These were the initials of Alison Græme, and James may have
+looked in at her from without--himself unseen but not unthought
+of--when he was "wat, wat, and weary," and after having walked many a
+mile over the hills, may have seen her sitting, while "a' the lave
+were sleepin';" and by the firelight working her name on the blankets
+for her ain James's bed.
+
+He motioned Rab down, and taking his wife in his arms, laid her in the
+blankets, and happed her carefully and firmly up, leaving the face
+uncovered; and then lifting her, he nodded again sharply to me, and
+with a resolved but utterly miserable face, strode along the passage,
+and downstairs, followed by Rab. I followed with a light; but he
+didn't need it. I went out, holding stupidly the candle in my hand in
+the calm frosty air; we were soon at the gate. I could have helped
+him, but I saw he was not to be meddled with, and he was strong, and
+did not need it. He laid her down as tenderly, as safely, as he had
+lifted her out ten days before--as tenderly as when he had her first
+in his arms when she was only "A.G."--sorted her, leaving that
+beautiful sealed face open to the heavens; and then taking Jess by the
+head, he moved away. He did not notice me, neither did Rab, who
+presided behind the cart.
+
+I stood till they passed through the long shadow of the College, and
+turned up Nicholson Street. I heard the solitary cart sound through
+the streets, and die away and come again; and I returned, thinking of
+that company going up Libberton Brae, then along Roslin Muir, the
+morning light touching the Pentlands and making them like on-looking
+ghosts; then down the hill through Auchindinny woods, past "haunted
+Woodhouselee"; and as daybreak came sweeping up the bleak Lammermuirs,
+and fell on his own door, the company would stop, and James would take
+the key, and lift Ailie up again, laying her on her own bed, and,
+having put Jess up, would return with Rab and shut the door.
+
+James buried his wife, with his neighbours mourning, Rab inspecting
+the solemnity from a distance. It was snow, and that black ragged hole
+would look strange in the midst of the swelling spotless cushion of
+white. James looked after everything; then rather suddenly fell ill,
+and took to bed; was insensible when the doctor came, and soon died. A
+sort of low fever was prevailing in the village, and his want of
+sleep, his exhaustion, and his misery, made him apt to take it. The
+grave was not difficult to reopen. A fresh fall of snow had again made
+all things white and smooth; Rab once more looked on, and slunk home
+to the stable.
+
+And what of Rab? I asked for him next week of the new carrier who got
+the goodwill of James's business, and was now master of Jess and her
+cart. "How's Rab?" He put me off, and said rather rudely, "What's
+_your_ business wi' the dowg?" I was not to be so put off. "Where's
+Rab?" He, getting confused and red, and intermeddling with his hair,
+said, "'Deed, sir, Rab's deid." "Dead! what did he die of?" "Weel,
+sir," said he, getting redder, "he didna exactly dee; he was killed. I
+had to brain him wi' a rack-pin; there was nae doin' wi' him. He lay
+in the treviss wi' the mear, and wadna come oot. I tempit him wi' kail
+and meat, but he wad tak naething, and keepit me frae feedin' the
+beast, and he was aye gur gurrin', and grup gruppin' me by the legs. I
+was laith to make awa wi' the auld dowg, his like wasna atween this
+and Thornhill--but, 'deed, sir, I could do naething else." I believed
+him. Fit end for Rab, quick and complete. His teeth and his friends
+gone, why should he keep the peace, and be civil?
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+PETER RUGG, THE MISSING MAN[2]
+
+
+Sir--Agreeably to my promise, I now relate to you all the particulars
+of the lost man and child which I have been able to collect. It is
+entirely owing to the humane interest you seemed to take in the
+report, that I have pursued the inquiry to the following result.
+
+You may remember that business called me to Boston in the summer of
+1820. I sailed in the packet to Providence, and when I arrived there I
+learned that every seat in the stage was engaged. I was thus obliged
+either to wait a few hours or accept a seat with the driver, who
+civilly offered me that accommodation. Accordingly I took my seat by
+his side, and soon found him intelligent and communicative.
+
+When we had travelled about ten miles, the horses suddenly threw their
+ears on their necks, as flat as a hare's. Said the driver, "Have you a
+surtout with you?" "No," said I; "why do you ask?" "You will want one
+soon," said he; "do you observe the ears of all the horses?" "Yes, and
+was just about to ask the reason." "They see the storm-breeder, and we
+shall see him soon." At this moment there was not a cloud visible in
+the firmament. Soon after a small speck appeared in the road. "There,"
+said my companion, "comes the storm-breeder; he always leaves a Scotch
+mist behind him. By many a wet jacket do I remember him. I suppose the
+poor fellow suffers much himself, much more than is known to the
+world." Presently a man with a child beside him, with a large black
+horse, and a weather-beaten chair, once built for a chaise body,
+passed in great haste, apparently at the rate of twelve miles an hour.
+He seemed to grasp the reins of his horse with firmness, and appeared
+to anticipate his speed. He seemed dejected, and looked anxiously at
+the passengers, particularly at the stage-driver and myself. In a
+moment after he passed us, the horses' ears were up and bent
+themselves forward so that they nearly met. "Who is that man?" said I;
+"he seems in great trouble." "Nobody knows who is he, but his person
+and the child are familiar to me. I have met them more than a hundred
+times, and have been so often asked the way to Boston by that man,
+even when he was travelling directly from that town, that of late I
+have refused any communication with him, and that is the reason he
+gave me such a fixed look." "But does he never stop anywhere?" "I have
+never known him to stop anywhere longer than to inquire the way to
+Boston; and, let him be where he may, he will tell you he cannot stay
+a moment, for he must reach Boston that night."
+
+We were now ascending a high hill in Walpole, and as we had a fair
+view of the heavens, I was rather disposed to jeer the driver for
+thinking of his surtout, as not a cloud as big as a marble could be
+discerned. "Do you look," said he, "in the direction whence the man
+came, that is the place to look; the storm never meets him, it follows
+him." We presently approached another hill, and when at the height,
+the driver pointed out in an eastern direction a little black speck as
+big as a hat. "There," said he, "is the seed storm; we may possibly
+reach Polley's before it reaches us, but the wanderer and his child
+will go to Providence through rain, thunder, and lightning." And now
+the horses, as though taught by instinct, hastened with increased
+speed. The little black cloud came on rolling over the turnpike, and
+doubled and trebled itself in all directions. The appearance of this
+cloud attracted the notice of all the passengers; for after it had
+spread itself to a great bulk, it suddenly became more limited in
+circumference, grew more compact, dark, and consolidated. And now the
+successive flashes of chain lightning caused the whole cloud to appear
+like a sort of irregular network, and displayed a thousand fantastic
+images. The driver bespoke my attention to a remarkable configuration
+in the cloud; he said every flash of lightning near its centre
+discovered to him distinctly the form of a man sitting in an open
+carriage drawn by a black horse. But in truth I saw no such thing. The
+man's fancy was doubtless at fault. It is a very common thing for the
+imagination to paint for the senses, both in the visible and invisible
+world.
+
+In the meantime the distant thunder gave notice of a shower at hand,
+and just as we reached Polley's tavern the rain poured down in
+torrents. It was soon over, the cloud passing in the direction of the
+turnpike toward Providence. In a few moments after, a
+respectable-looking man in a chaise stopped at the door. The man and
+child in the chair having excited some little sympathy among the
+passengers, the gentleman was asked if he had observed them. He said
+he had met them; that the man seemed bewildered, and inquired the way
+to Boston; that he was driving at great speed, as though he expected
+to outstrip the tempest; that the moment he had passed him a
+thunderclap broke distinctly over the man's head and seemed to envelop
+both man and child, horse and carriage. "I stopped," said the
+gentleman, "supposing the lightning had struck him, but the horse only
+seemed to loom up and increase his speed, and, as well as I could
+judge, he travelled just as fast as the thunder cloud." While this
+man was speaking, a peddler with a cart of tin merchandise came up,
+all dripping; and, on being questioned, he said he had met that man
+and carriage, within a fortnight, in four different States; that at
+each time he had inquired the way to Boston; and that a thunder shower
+like the present had each time deluged him, his wagon and his wares,
+setting his tin pots, etc., afloat, so that he had determined to get
+marine insurance done for the future. But that which excited his
+surprise most was the strange conduct of his horse, for that, long
+before he could distinguish the man in the chair, his own horse stood
+still in the road and flung back his ears. "In short," said the
+peddler, "I wish never to see that man and horse again; they do not
+look to me as if they belonged to this world."
+
+This is all that I could learn at that time; and the occurrence soon
+after would have become with me like one of those things which had
+never happened, had I not, as I stood recently on the doorstep of
+Bennett's Hotel in Hartford, heard a man say, "There goes Peter Rugg
+and his child! he looks wet and weary, and farther from Boston than
+ever." I was satisfied it was the same man that I had seen more than
+three years before; for whoever has once seen Peter Rugg can never
+after be deceived as to his identity. "Peter Rugg!" said I, "and who
+is Peter Rugg?" "That," said the stranger, "is more than anyone can
+tell exactly. He is a famous traveller, held in light esteem by all
+inn-holders, for he never stops to eat, drink, or sleep. I wonder why
+the Government does not employ him to carry the mail." "Ay," said a
+bystander, "that is a thought bright only on one side. How long would
+it take, in that case, to send a letter to Boston? For Peter has
+already, to my knowledge, been more than twenty years travelling to
+that place." "But," said I, "does the man never stop anywhere, does
+he never converse with anyone? I saw the same man more than three
+years since, near Providence, and I heard a strange story about him.
+Pray, sir, give me some account of this man." "Sir," said the
+stranger, "those who know the most respecting that man say the least.
+I have heard it asserted that heaven sometimes sets a mark on a man,
+either for judgment or trial. Under which Peter Rugg now labours I
+cannot say; therefore I am rather inclined to pity than to judge."
+"You speak like a humane man," said I, "and if you have known him so
+long, I pray you will give me some account of him. Has his appearance
+much altered in that time?" "Why, yes; he looks as though he never
+ate, drank, or slept; and his child looks older than himself; and he
+looks like time broke off from eternity and anxious to gain a
+resting-place." "And how does his horse look?" said I. "As for his
+horse, he looks fatter and gayer, and shows more animation and
+courage, than he did twenty years ago. The last time Rugg spoke to me
+he inquired how far it was to Boston. I told him just one hundred
+miles. 'Why,' said he, 'how can you deceive me so? It is cruel to
+deceive a traveller. I have lost my way. Pray direct me the nearest
+way to Boston.' I repeated it was one hundred miles. 'How can you say
+so?' said he. 'I was told last evening it was but fifty, and I have
+travelled all night.' 'But,' said I, 'you are now travelling from
+Boston. You must turn back.' 'Alas!' said he, 'it is all turn back!
+Boston shifts with the wind, and plays all around the compass. One man
+tells me it is to the east, another to the west; and the guide-posts,
+too, they all point the wrong way.' 'But will you not stop and rest?'
+said I; 'you seem wet and weary.' 'Yes,' said he, 'it has been foul
+weather since I left home.' 'Stop, then, and refresh yourself.' 'I
+must not stop, I must reach home to-night, if possible, though I
+think you must be mistaken in the distance to Boston.' He then gave
+the reins to his horse, which he restrained with difficulty, and
+disappeared in a moment. A few days afterwards I met the man a little
+this side of Claremont, winding around the hills in Unity, at the
+rate, I believe, of twenty miles an hour."
+
+"Is Peter Rugg his real name, or has he accidentally gained that
+name?" "I know not, but presume he will not deny his name; you can ask
+him, for see, he has turned his horse and is passing this way." In a
+moment a dark-coloured, high-spirited horse approached, and would have
+passed without stopping, but I had resolved to speak to Peter Rugg, or
+whoever the man might be. Accordingly. I stepped into the street, and
+as the horse approached I made a feint of stopping him. The man
+immediately reined in his horse. "Sir," said I, "may I be so bold as
+to inquire if you are not Mr. Rugg? for I think I have seen you
+before." "My name is Peter Rugg," said he; "I have unfortunately lost
+my way; I am wet and weary, and will take it kindly of you to direct
+me to Boston." "You live in Boston, do you, and in what street?" "In
+Middle Street." "When did you leave Boston?" "I cannot tell precisely;
+it seems a considerable time." "But how did you and your child become
+so wet? it has not rained here to-day." "It has just rained a heavy
+shower up the river. But I shall not reach Boston to-night if I tarry.
+Would you advise me to take the old road, or the turnpike?" "Why, the
+old road is one hundred and seventeen miles, and the turnpike is
+ninety-seven." "How can you say so? you impose on me; it is wrong to
+trifle with a traveller; you know it is but forty miles from
+Newburyport to Boston." "But this is not Newburyport; this is
+Hartford." "Do not deceive me, sir. Is not this town Newburyport, and
+the river that I have been following the Merrimac?" "No, sir; this is
+Hartford, and the river the Connecticut." He wrung his hands and
+looked incredulous. "Have the rivers, too, changed their courses as
+the cities have changed places? But see, the clouds are gathering in
+the south, and we shall have a rainy night. Ah, that fatal oath!" He
+would tarry no longer. His impatient horse leaped off, his hind flanks
+rising like wings--he seemed to devour all before him and to scorn all
+behind.
+
+I had now, as I thought, discovered a clue to the history of Peter
+Rugg, and I determined, the next time my business called me to Boston,
+to make a further inquiry. Soon after I was enabled to collect the
+following particulars from Mrs. Croft, an aged lady in Middle Street,
+who has resided in Boston during the last twenty years. Her narration
+is this: The last summer a person, just at twilight, stopped at the
+door of the late Mrs. Rugg. Mrs. Croft, on coming to the door,
+perceived a stranger, with a child by his side, in an old,
+weather-beaten carriage, with a black horse. The stranger asked for
+Mrs. Rugg, and was informed that Mrs. Rugg had died, at a good old
+age, more than twenty years before that time. The stranger replied,
+"How can you deceive me so? do ask Mrs. Rugg to step to the door."
+"Sir, I assure you Mrs. Rugg has not lived here these nineteen years;
+no one lives here but myself, and my name is Betsey Croft." The
+stranger paused, and looked up and down the street and said, "Though
+the painting is rather faded, this looks like my house." "Yes," said
+the child, "that is the stone before the door that I used to sit on to
+eat my bread and milk." "But," said the stranger, "it seems to be on
+the wrong side of the street. Indeed, everything here seems to be
+misplaced. The streets are all changed, the people are all changed,
+the town seems changed, and, what is strangest of all, Catharine Rugg
+has deserted her husband and child." "Pray," said the stranger, "has
+John Foy come home from sea? He went a long voyage; he is my kinsman.
+If I could see him, he could give me some account of Mrs. Rugg."
+"Sir," said Mrs. Croft, "I never heard of John Foy. Where did he
+live?" "Just above here, in Orange-Tree Lane." "There is no such place
+in this neighbourhood." "What do you tell me! Are the streets gone?
+Orange-Tree Lane is at the head of Hanover Street, near Pemberton's
+Hill." "There is no such lane now." "Madam! you cannot be serious. But
+you doubtless know my brother, William Rugg. He lives in Royal
+Exchange Lane, near King Street." "I know of no such lane; and I I am
+sure there is no such street as King Street in this town." "No such
+street as King Street? Why, woman! you mock me. You may as well tell
+me there is no King George. However, madam, you see I am wet and
+weary. I must find a resting place. I will go to Hart's tavern, near
+the market." "Which market, sir? for you seem perplexed; we have
+several markets." "You know there is but one market, near the town
+dock." "Oh, the old market. But no such man as Hart has kept there
+these twenty years."
+
+Here the stranger seemed disconcerted, and muttered to himself quite
+audibly: "Strange mistake! How much this looks like the town of
+Boston! It certainly has a great resemblance to it; but I perceive my
+mistake now. Some other Mrs. Rugg, some other Middle Street." Then
+said he, "Madam, can you direct me to Boston?" "Why, this is Boston,
+the city of Boston. I know of no other Boston." "City of Boston it may
+be, but it is not the Boston where I live. I recollect now, I came
+over a bridge instead of a ferry. Pray what bridge is that I just came
+over?" "It is Charles River Bridge." "I perceive my mistake; there is
+a ferry between Boston and Charlestown, there is no bridge. Ah, I
+perceive my mistake. If I was in Boston, my horse would carry me
+directly to my own door. But my horse shows by his impatience that he
+is in a strange place. Absurd, that I should have mistaken this place
+for the old town of Boston! It is a much finer city than the town of
+Boston. It has been built long since Boston. I fancy Boston must lie
+at a distance from this city, as the good woman seems ignorant of it."
+At these words his horse began to chafe, and strike the pavement with
+his fore feet; the stranger seemed a little bewildered, and said "No
+home to-night," and, giving the reins to his horse, passed up the
+street, and I saw no more of him.
+
+It was evident that the generation to which Peter Rugg belonged had
+passed away.
+
+This was all the account of Peter Rugg I could obtain from Mrs. Croft;
+but she directed me to an elderly man, Mr. James Felt, who lived near
+her, and who had kept a record of the principal occurrences for the
+last fifty years. At my request she sent for him; and, after I had
+related to him the object of my inquiry, Mr. Felt told me he had known
+Rugg in his youth; that his disappearance had caused some surprise;
+but as it sometimes happens that men run away, sometimes to be rid of
+others, and sometimes to be rid of themselves; and as Rugg took his
+child with him, and his own horse and chair; and as it did not appear
+that any creditors made a stir, the occurrence soon mingled itself in
+the stream of oblivion; and Rugg and his child, horse and chair, were
+soon forgotten. "It is true," said Mr. Felt, "sundry stories grew out
+of Rugg's affair, whether true or false I cannot tell; but stranger
+things have happened in my day, without even a newspaper notice."
+"Sir," said I, "Peter Rugg is now living. I have lately seen Peter
+Rugg and his child, horse and chair; therefore I pray you to relate to
+me all you know or ever heard of him." "Why, my friend," said James
+Felt, "that Peter Rugg is now a living man I will not deny; but that
+you have seen Peter Rugg and his child is impossible, if you mean a
+small child, for Jenny Rugg, if living, must be at least--let me
+see--Boston Massacre, 1770--Jenny Rugg was about ten years old. Why,
+sir, Jenny Rugg if living must be more than sixty years of age. That
+Peter Rugg is living is highly probable, as he was only ten years
+older than myself; and I was only eighty last March, and I am as
+likely to live twenty years longer as any man." Here I perceived that
+Mr. Felt was in his dotage, and I despaired of gaining any
+intelligence from him on which I could depend.
+
+I took my leave of Mrs. Croft, and proceeded to my lodgings at the
+Marlborough Hotel.
+
+If Peter Rugg, thought I, has been travelling since the Boston
+Massacre, there is no reason why he should not travel to the end of
+time. If the present generation know little of him, the next will know
+less, and Peter and his child will have no hold on this world.
+
+In the course of the evening I related my adventure in Middle Street.
+"Ha!" said one of the company, smiling, "do you really think you have
+seen Peter Rugg? I have heard my grandfather speak of him as though he
+seriously believed his own story." "Sir," said I, "pray let us compare
+your grandfather's story of Mr. Rugg with my own." "Peter Rugg, sir,
+if my grandfather was worthy of credit, once lived in Middle Street,
+in this city. He was a man in comfortable circumstances, had a wife
+and one daughter, and was generally esteemed for his sober life and
+manners. But unhappily his temper at times was altogether
+ungovernable, and then his language was terrible. In these fits of
+passion, if a door stood in his way he would never do less than kick a
+panel through. He would sometimes throw his heels over his head, and
+come down on his feet, uttering oaths in a circle. And thus, in a
+rage, he was the first who performed a somerset, and did what others
+have since learned to do for merriment and money. Once Rugg was seen
+to bite a tenpenny nail in halves. In those days everybody, both men
+and boys, wore wigs; and Peter, at these moments of violent passion,
+would become so profane that his wig would rise up from his head. Some
+said it was on account of his terrible language; others accounted for
+it in a more philosophical way, and said it was caused by the
+expansion of his scalp, as violent passion, we know, will swell the
+veins and expand the head. While these fits were on him, Rugg had no
+respect for heaven or earth. Except this infirmity, all agreed that
+Rugg was a good soft of a man; for when his fits were over, nobody was
+so ready to commend a placid temper as Peter.
+
+"It was late in autumn, one morning, that Rugg, in his own chair, with
+a fine large bay horse, took his daughter and proceeded to Concord. On
+his return a violent storm overtook him. At dark he stopped in
+Menotomy (now West Cambridge), at the door of a Mr. Cutter, a friend
+of his, who urged him to tarry overnight. On Rugg's declining to stop,
+Mr. Cutter urged him vehemently. 'Why, Mr. Rugg,' said Cutter, 'the
+storm is overwhelming you; the night is exceeding dark; your little
+daughter will perish; you are in an open chair, and the tempest is
+increasing.' '_Let the storm increase_,' said Rugg, with a fearful
+oath, '_I will see home to-night, in spite of the last tempest! or may
+I never see home_.' At these words he gave his whip to his
+high-spirited horse, and disappeared in a moment. But Peter Rugg did
+not reach home that night, nor the next; nor, when he became a missing
+man, could he ever be traced beyond Mr. Cutter's in Menotomy. For a
+long time after, on every dark and stormy night, the wife of Peter
+Rugg would fancy she heard the crack of a whip, and the fleet tread of
+a horse, and the rattling of a carriage, passing her door. The
+neighbours, too, heard the same noises, and some said they knew it was
+Rugg's horse; the tread on the pavement was perfectly familiar to
+them. This occurred so repeatedly that at length the neighbours
+watched with lanterns, and saw the real Peter Rugg, with his own horse
+and chair, and child sitting beside him, pass directly before his own
+door, his head turning toward his house, and himself making every
+effort to stop his horse, but in vain. The next day the friends of
+Mrs. Rugg exerted themselves to find her husband and child. They
+inquired at every public house and stable in town; but it did not
+appear that Rugg made any stay in Boston. No one, after Rugg had
+passed his own door, could give any account of him; though it was
+asserted by some that the clatter of Rugg's horse and carriage over
+the pavements shook the houses on both sides of the street. And this
+is credible, if, indeed, Rugg's horse and carriage did pass on that
+night. For at this day, in many of the streets, a loaded truck or team
+in passing will shake the houses like an earthquake. However, Rugg's
+neighbours never afterward watched again; some of them treated it all
+as a delusion, and thought no more of it. Others, of a different
+opinion, shook their heads and said nothing. Thus Rugg and his child,
+horse and chair, were soon forgotten; and probably many in the
+neighbourhood never heard a word on the subject.
+
+"There was indeed a rumour that Rugg afterward was seen in
+Connecticut, between Suffield and Hartford, passing through the
+country like a streak of chalk. This gave occasion to Rugg's friends
+to make further inquiry. But the more they inquired, the more they
+were baffled. If they heard of Rugg one day in Connecticut, the next
+day they heard of him winding around the hills in New Hampshire; and
+soon after, a man in a chair, with a small child, exactly answering
+the description of Peter Rugg, would be seen in Rhode Island,
+inquiring the way to Boston.
+
+"But that which chiefly gave a colour of mystery to the story of Peter
+Rugg was the affair at Charlestown bridge. The toll-gatherer asserted
+that sometimes, on the darkest and most stormy nights, when no object
+could be discerned about the time Rugg was missing, a horse and
+wheelcarriage, with a noise equal to a troop, would at midnight, in
+utter contempt of the rates of toll, pass over the bridge. This
+occurred so frequently that the toll-gatherer resolved to attempt a
+discovery. Soon after, at the usual time, apparently the same horse
+and carriage approached the bridge from Charlestown square. The
+toll-gatherer, prepared, took his stand as near the middle of the
+bridge as he dared, with a large three-legged stool in his hand. As
+the appearance passed, he threw the stool at the horse, but heard
+nothing except the noise of the stool skipping across the bridge. The
+toll-gatherer on the next day asserted that the stool went directly
+through the body of the horse, and he persisted in that belief ever
+after. Whether Rugg, or whoever the person was, ever passed the bridge
+again, the toll-gatherer would never tell; and when questioned, seemed
+anxious to waive the subject. And thus Peter Rugg and his child, horse
+and carriage, remain a mystery to this day."
+
+This, sir, is all that I could learn of Peter Rugg in Boston....
+
+[Footnote 2: From Jonathan Dunwell of New York, to Mr. Herman Krauff.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS STORIES EVERY CHILD ***
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Famous Stories Every Child Should Know
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Hamilton Wright Mabie
+
+Release Date: July 8, 2005 [EBook #16247]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS STORIES EVERY CHILD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Diane Monico and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h4><a name="Illustration_Old_Man_of_the_Mountain" id="Illustration_Old_Man_of_the_Mountain" /><!-- Image1 -->
+
+<img src="images/image1.jpg" height="620" width="458"
+alt="Old Man of the Mountain" />
+</h4>
+
+<h4>Old Man of the Mountain</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h4><a name="Title_Page" id="Title_Page"></a><!-- Image2 -->
+
+<img src="images/image2.png" height="650" width="429"
+alt="FAMOUS STORIES Every Child Should Know" />
+</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h1>FAMOUS STORIES</h1>
+
+<h2>Every Child Should Know</h2>
+
+<h5>EDITED BY</h5>
+
+<h3>Hamilton Wright Mabie</h3>
+
+<h4>THE WHAT-EVERY-CHILD-SHOULD-KNOW-LIBRARY</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<h5><i>Published by</i><br />
+
+DOUBLEDAY, DORAN &amp; CO., INC., <i>for</i><br />
+
+THE PARENTS' INSTITUTE, INC.<br />
+
+<i>Publishers of &quot;The Parents' Magazine&quot;</i><br />
+
+9 EAST 40th STREET, NEW YORK</h5>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<h6>
+COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY.<br />
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE<br />
+COUNTRY LIFE PRESS. GARDEN CITY. N.Y.<br />
+</h6>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ACKNOWLEDGMENTS" id="ACKNOWLEDGMENTS">ACKNOWLEDGMENTS</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The stories of &quot;The Great Stone Face&quot; and &quot;The Snow Image&quot; by
+Nathaniel Hawthorne, are used in this volume by permission of Messrs.
+Houghton, Mifflin &amp; Company. Messrs. Little, Brown &amp; Company have
+granted permission for the republication of &quot;The Man Without a
+Country&quot; by Edward Everett Hale.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a></h2>
+
+
+<p>The group of stories brought together in this volume differ from
+legends because they have, with one exception, no core of fact at the
+centre, from myths because they make no attempt to personify or
+explain the forces or processes of nature, from fairy stories because
+they do not often bring on to the stage actors of a different nature
+from ours. They give full play to the fancy as in &quot;A Child's Dream of
+a Star,&quot; &quot;The King of the Golden River,&quot; &quot;Undine,&quot; and &quot;The Snow
+Image&quot;; but they are not poetic records of the facts of life, attempts
+to shape those facts &quot;to meet the needs of the imagination, the
+cravings of the heart.&quot; In the Introduction to the book of Fairy Tales
+in this series, those familiar and much loved stories which have been
+repeated to children for unnumbered generations and will be repeated
+to the end of time, are described as &quot;records of the free and joyful
+play of the imagination, opening doors through hard conditions to the
+spirit, which craves power, freedom, happiness; righting wrongs, and
+redressing injuries; defeating base designs; rewarding patience and
+virtue; crowning true love with happiness; placing the powers of
+darkness under the control of man and making their ministers his
+servants.&quot; The stories which make up this volume are closer to
+experience and come, for the most part, nearer to the every-day
+happenings of life.</p>
+
+<p>A generation ago, when the noble activities of science and its
+inspiring discoveries were taking possession of the minds of men and
+revealing possibilities of power of which they had not dreamed, the
+prediction was freely made that poetry and fiction had had their day,
+and that henceforth men would be educated upon facts and get their
+inspirations from what are called real things. So engrossing and so
+marvellous were the results of investigation, the achievements of
+experiment, that it seemed to many as if the older literature of
+imagination and fancy had served its purpose as completely as alchemy,
+astrology, or chain armour.</p>
+
+<p>The prophecies of those fruitful years of research did not tell half
+the story of the wonderful things that were to be; the uses of
+electricity which are within easy reach for the most homely and
+practical purposes are as mysterious and magical as the dreams of the
+magicians. We are served by invisible ministers who are more powerful
+than the genii and more nimble than Puck. There has been a girdle
+around the world for many years; but there is good reason to believe
+that the time will come when news will go round the globe on waves of
+air. If we were not accustomed to ordering breakfast miles away from
+the grocer and the poulterer, we should be overcome with amazement
+every time we took up the telephone transmitter. Absolutely pure tones
+are now being made by the use of dynamos and will soon be sent into
+homes lying miles distant from the power house, so to speak, so that
+very sweet music is being played by arc lights.</p>
+
+<p>The anticipations of scientific men, so far as the uses of force are
+concerned, have been surpassed by the wonderful discoveries and
+applications of the past few years; but poetry and romance are not
+dead; on the contrary, they are more alive in the sense of awakening a
+wider interest than ever before in the history of writing. During the
+years which have been more fruitful in works of mechanical genius or
+dynamic energy, novels have been more widely distributed and more
+eagerly read than at any previous period. The poetry of the time, in
+the degree in which it has been fresh and vital, has been treated by
+newspapers as matter of universal interest.</p>
+
+<p>Men are born story-readers; if their interest subsides for the moment,
+or is absorbed by other forms of expression, it reasserts itself in
+due time and demands the old enchantment that has woven its spell over
+every generation since men and women reached an early stage of
+development. Barbarians and even savages share with the most highly
+civilised peoples this passion for fiction.</p>
+
+<p>Men cannot live on the bare, literal fact any more than they can live
+on bread alone; there is something in every man to feed besides his
+body. He has been told many times by men of great disinterestedness
+and ability that he must believe only that which he clearly knows and
+understands, and that he must concern himself with those matters only
+which he can thoroughly comprehend. He must live, in other words, by
+the rule of common sense; meaning by that oft-used phrase, clear sight
+and practical dealing with actual things and conditions. It would
+greatly simplify life if this course could be followed, but it would
+simplify it by rejecting those things which the finest spirits among
+men and women have loved most and believed in with joyful and fruitful
+devotion. If we could all become literal, matter of fact and entirely
+practical, we should take the best possible care of our bodies and let
+our souls starve. This, however, the soul absolutely refuses to do;
+when it is ignored it rebels and shivers the apparently solid order of
+common-sense living into fragments. It must have air to breathe, room
+to move in, a language to speak, work to do, and an open window
+through which it can look on the landscape and the sky. It is as idle
+to tell a man to live entirely in and by facts that can be known by
+the senses as to tell him to work in a field and not see the
+landscape of which the field is a part.</p>
+
+<p>The love of the story is one of the expressions of the passion of the
+soul for a glimpse of an order of life amid the chaos of happenings;
+for a setting of life which symbolises the dignity of the actors in
+the play; for room in which to let men work out their instincts and
+risk their hearts in the great adventures of affection or action or
+exploration. Men and women find in stories the opportunities and
+experiences which circumstances have denied them; they insist on the
+dramatisation of life because they know that certain results
+inevitably follow certain actions, and certain deeply interesting
+conflicts and tragedies are bound up with certain temperaments and
+types of character.</p>
+
+<p>The fact that many stories are unwholesome, untrue, vulgar or immoral
+impeaches the value and dignity of fiction as little as the abuse of
+power impeaches the necessity and nobility of government, or the
+excess of the glutton the healthfulness and necessity of food. The
+imagination must not only be counted as an entirely normal faculty,
+but the higher intelligence of the future will recognise its primacy
+among the faculties with which men are endowed. Fiction is not only
+here to stay, as the phrase runs, but it is one of the great and
+enduring forms of literature.</p>
+
+<p>The question is not, therefore, whether or not children shall read
+stories; that question was answered when they were sent into the world
+in the human form and with the human constitution: the only open
+question is &quot;what stories shall they read?&quot; That many children read
+too many stories is beyond question; their excessive devotion to
+fiction wastes time and seriously impairs vigour of mind. In these
+respects they follow the current which carries a multitude of their
+elders to mental inefficiency and waste of power. That they read too
+many weak, untruthful, characterless stories is also beyond question;
+and in this respect also they are like their elders. They need food,
+but in no intelligent household do they select and provide it; they
+are given what they like if it is wholesome; if not, they are given
+something different and better. No sane mother allows her child to
+live on the food it likes if that food is unwholesome; but this is
+precisely what many mothers and fathers do in the matter of feeding
+the imagination. The body is scrupulously cared for and the mind is
+left to care for itself!</p>
+
+<p>Children ought to have stories at hand precisely as they ought to have
+food, toys, games, playgrounds, because stories meet one of the normal
+needs of their natures. But these stories, like the food given to the
+body, ought to be intelligently selected, not only for their quality
+but for their adaptation. There are many good books which ought not to
+be in the hands of children because children have not had the
+experience which interprets them; they will either fail to understand,
+or if they understand, they will suffer a sudden forcing of growth in
+the knowledge of life which is always unwholesome.</p>
+
+<p>Only stories which are sound in the views of life they present ought
+to be within the reach of children; these stories ought to be well
+constructed and well written; they ought to be largely objective
+stories; they ought not to be introspective, morbid or abnormal in any
+way. Goody-good and professionally &quot;pious&quot; stories, sentimental or
+unreal stories, ought to be rigorously excluded. A great deal of
+fiction specially written for children ought to be left severely
+alone; it is cheap, shallow and stamped with unreality from cover to
+cover. It is as unwise to feed the minds of children exclusively on
+books specially prepared for their particular age as to shape the
+talk at breakfast or dinner specially for their stage of development;
+few opportunities for education are more valuable for a child than
+hearing the talk of its elders about the topics of the time. There are
+many wholesome and entertaining stories in the vast mass of fiction
+addressed to younger readers; but this literature of a period ought
+never to exclude the literature of all periods.</p>
+
+<p>The stories collected in this volume have been selected from many
+sources, because in the judgment of the editor, they are sound pieces
+of writing, wholesome in tone, varied in interest and style, and
+interesting. It is his hope that they will not only furnish good
+reading, but that they will suggest the kind of reading in this field
+that should be within the reach of children.</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FAMOUS_STORIES" id="FAMOUS_STORIES">FAMOUS STORIES</a></h2>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+CHAPTER &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;PAGE<br />
+<br />
+
+<a href="#Illustration_Old_Man_of_the_Mountain"><b>Illustration: Old Man of the Mountain</b></a><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#ACKNOWLEDGMENTS"><b>ACKNOWLEDGMENTS</b></a><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#INTRODUCTION"><b>INTRODUCTION</b></a><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#I"><b>I.&nbsp;A Child's Dream of a Star</b> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;3 </a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By CHARLES DICKENS</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#II"><b>II. The King of the Golden River or, The Black Brothers</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;8</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By JOHN RUSKIN</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#III"><b>III. The Snow Image: A Childish Miracle</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;37</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#IV"><b>IV. Undine</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;57</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQU&Eacute;</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#V"><b>V. The Story of Ruth</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;140</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">FROM THE BOOK OF RUTH</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#VI"><b>VI. The Great Stone Face</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;148</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#VII"><b>VII. The Diverting History of John Gilpin</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;172</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By WILLIAM COWPER</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#VIII"><b>VIII. The Man Without a Country</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;182</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By EDWARD EVERETT HALE</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#IX"><b>IX. The N&uuml;rnberg Stove</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;212</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By LOUISE DE LA RAM&Eacute;E (&quot;Ouida&quot;)</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#X"><b>X. Rab and His Friends</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;271</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By JOHN BROWN, M.D.</span><br />
+<br />
+<a href="#XI"><b>XI. Peter Rugg, the Missing Man</b>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;288</a><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By WILLIAM AUSTIN</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>STORIES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I" id="I">I</a></h2>
+
+<h2>A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR</h2>
+
+
+<p>There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought
+of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his
+constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They
+wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and
+blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water;
+they wondered at the goodness and the power of God who made the lovely
+world.</p>
+
+<p>They used to say to one another, sometimes, supposing all the children
+upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky
+be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds
+are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that
+gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the
+smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night,
+must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be
+grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more.</p>
+
+<p>There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky
+before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was
+larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and
+every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window.
+Whoever saw it first cried out, &quot;I see the star!&quot; And often they cried
+out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So
+they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down in their
+beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good-night; and
+when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, &quot;God bless
+the star!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But while she was still very young, oh very, very young, the sister
+drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the
+window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and
+when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face
+on the bed, &quot;I see the star!&quot; and then a smile would come upon the
+face, and a little weak voice used to say, &quot;God bless my brother and
+the star!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so the time came all too soon! when the child looked out alone,
+and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little
+grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star made long
+rays down toward him, as he saw it through his tears.</p>
+
+<p>Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining
+way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary
+bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was,
+he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And
+the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more
+such angels waited to receive them.</p>
+
+<p>All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the
+people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the
+long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and
+kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light,
+and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for
+joy.</p>
+
+<p>But, there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them
+one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was
+glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all
+the host.</p>
+
+<p>His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to
+the leader among those who had brought the people thither:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is my brother come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said &quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms,
+and cried, &quot;O, sister, I am here! Take me!&quot; and then she turned her
+beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into
+the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the
+home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that
+he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of
+his sister's angel gone before.</p>
+
+<p>There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was
+so little that he never yet had spoken word he stretched his tiny form
+out on his bed, and died.</p>
+
+<p>Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of
+angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their
+beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces.</p>
+
+<p>Said his sister's angel to the leader:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is my brother come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said &quot;Not that one, but another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, &quot;O,
+sister, I am here! Take me!&quot; And she turned and smiled upon him, and
+the star was shining.</p>
+
+<p>He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books when an old
+servant came to him and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his
+sister's angel to the leader:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is my brother come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;Thy mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the
+mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms
+and cried, &quot;O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!&quot; And
+they answered him, &quot;Not yet,&quot; and the star was shining.</p>
+
+<p>He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting
+in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face
+bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again.</p>
+
+<p>Said his sister's angel to the leader: &quot;Is my brother come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;Nay, but his maiden daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to
+him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said, &quot;My
+daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my
+mother's neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I
+can bear the parting from her, God be praised!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the star was shining.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was
+wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent.
+And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he
+cried, as he had cried so long ago:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see the star!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They whispered one to another, &quot;He is dying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I
+move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank Thee
+that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones who await me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the star was shining, and it shines upon his grave.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II" id="II">II</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; OR,<br />
+ THE BLACK BROTHERS</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.&mdash;HOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS WAS INTERFERED
+WITH BY SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE</h4>
+
+<p>In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in old time, a
+valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was
+surrounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains, rising into
+peaks, which were always covered with snow, and from which a number of
+torrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward,
+over the face of a crag so high, that, when the sun had set to
+everything else, and all below was darkness, his beams still shone
+full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower of gold. It
+was, therefore, called by the people of the neighbourhood, the Golden
+River. It was strange that none of these streams fell into the valley
+itself. They all descended on the other side of the mountains, and
+wound away through broad plains and by populous cities. But the clouds
+were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in
+the circular hollow, that in time of drought and heat, when all the
+country round was burnt up, there was still rain in the little valley;
+and its crops were so heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so
+red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine so rich, and its honey so
+sweet that it was a marvel to everyone who beheld it, and was
+commonly called the Treasure Valley.</p>
+
+<p>The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers called
+Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,
+were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyes,
+which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into <i>them</i>, and
+always fancied they saw very far into <i>you</i>. They lived by farming the
+Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed
+everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds,
+because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they
+should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs
+in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all
+summer in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any
+wages, till they would not work any more, and then quarrelled with
+them, and turned them out of doors without paying them. It would have
+been very odd, if with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they
+hadn't got very rich; and very rich they <i>did</i> get. They generally
+contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very dear, and then
+sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying about on
+their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so much as a
+penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled
+perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and
+grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any
+dealings the nickname of the &quot;Black Brothers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both
+appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined
+or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and
+kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree
+particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did not agree
+with <i>him</i>. He was usually appointed to the honourable office of
+turnspit, when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for,
+to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon
+themselves than upon other people. At other times he used to clean the
+shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was
+left on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry
+blows, by way of education.</p>
+
+<p>Things went on in this manner for a long time. At last came a very wet
+summer, and everything went wrong in the country around. The hay had
+hardly been got in, when the hay-stacks were floated bodily down to
+the sea by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the hail;
+the corn was all killed by a black blight; only in the Treasure
+Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain
+nowhere else, so it had sun when there was sun nowhere else. Everybody
+came to buy corn at the farm, and went away pouring maledictions on
+the Black Brothers. They asked what they liked, and got it, except
+from the poor, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at
+their very door, without the slightest regard or notice.</p>
+
+<p>It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when one day the
+two elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning to little
+Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let nobody in,
+and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it
+was raining very hard, and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or
+comfortable-looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got nice and
+brown. &quot;What a pity,&quot; thought Gluck, &quot;my brothers never ask anybody to
+dinner. I'm sure, when they've got such a nice piece of mutton as
+this, and nobody else has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it
+would do their hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door, yet
+heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been tied up&mdash;more like a
+puff than a knock.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It must be the wind,&quot; said Gluck; &quot;nobody else would venture to knock
+double knocks at our door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No; it wasn't the wind: there it came again very hard, and what was
+particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not
+to be in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went to the
+window, opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.</p>
+
+<p>It was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had ever
+seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-coloured;
+his cheeks were very round, and very red, and might have warranted a
+supposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last
+eight and forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long silky
+eyelashes, his moustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each
+side of his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt
+colour, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four-feet-six
+in height, and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,
+decorated with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet was
+prolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of
+what is now termed a &quot;swallow-tail,&quot; but was much obscured by the
+swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must
+have been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling
+round the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders
+to about four times his own length.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck was so perfectly paralysed by the singular appearance of his
+visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the old
+gentleman, having performed another, and a more energetic concerto on
+the knocker, turned round to look after his fly-away cloak. In so
+doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the
+window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hollo!&quot; said the little gentleman, &quot;that's not the way to answer the
+door. I'm wet, let me in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To do the little gentleman justice, he <i>was</i> wet. His feather hung
+down between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an
+umbrella; and from the ends of his moustaches the water was running
+into his waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg pardon, sir,&quot; said Gluck, &quot;I'm very sorry, but I really can't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't what?&quot; said the old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't let you in, sir&mdash;I can't indeed; my brothers would beat me to
+death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Want?&quot; said the old gentleman, petulantly, &quot;I want fire, and shelter;
+and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on
+the walls, with nobody to feel it Let me in, I say; I only want to
+warm myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that
+he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned,
+and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing long
+bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the
+savory smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it
+should be burning away for nothing. &quot;He does look <i>very</i> wet,&quot; said
+little Gluck; &quot;I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour.&quot; Round
+he went to the door, and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked
+in, there came a gust of wind through the house, that made the old
+chimneys totter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a good boy,&quot; said the little gentleman. &quot;Never mind your
+brothers. I'll talk to them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, sir, don't do any such thing,&quot; said Gluck. &quot;I can't let you
+stay till they come; they'd be the death of me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me,&quot; said the old gentleman, &quot;I'm very sorry to hear that. How
+long may I stay?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only till the mutton's done, sir,&quot; replied Gluck, &quot;and it's very
+brown.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himself down
+on the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for
+it was a great deal too high for the roof.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll soon dry there, sir,&quot; said Gluck, and sat down again to turn
+the mutton. But the old gentleman did <i>not</i> dry there, but went on
+drip, drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, and
+sputtered, and began to look very black, and uncomfortable: never was
+such a cloak; every fold in it ran like a gutter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg pardon, sir,&quot; said Gluck at length, after watching the water
+spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for a
+quarter of an hour; &quot;mayn't I take your cloak?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, thank you,&quot; said the old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your cap, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am all right, thank you,&quot; said the old gentleman rather gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But&mdash;sir&mdash;I'm very sorry,&quot; said Gluck, hesitatingly; &quot;but&mdash;really,
+sir&mdash;you're&mdash;putting the fire out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It'll take longer to do the mutton, then,&quot; replied his visitor dryly.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck was very much puzzled by the behaviour of his guest, it was such
+a strange mixture of coolness and humility. He turned away at the
+string meditatively for another five minutes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That mutton looks very nice,&quot; said the old gentleman at length.
+&quot;Can't you give me a little bit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Impossible, sir,&quot; said Gluck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm very hungry,&quot; continued the old gentleman. &quot;I've had nothing to
+eat yesterday, nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a bit from the
+knuckle!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite melted Gluck's
+heart. &quot;They promised me one slice to-day, sir,&quot; said he; &quot;I can give
+you that, but not a bit more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a good boy,&quot; said the old gentleman again.</p>
+
+<p>Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. &quot;I don't care if I do
+get beaten for it,&quot; thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice out
+of the mutton there came a tremendous rap at the door. The old
+gentleman jumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly become
+inconveniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again,
+with desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?&quot; said Schwartz, as he
+walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face. &quot;Ay! what for,
+indeed, you little vagabond?&quot; said Hans, administering an educational
+box on the ear, as he followed his brother into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bless my soul!&quot; said Schwartz when he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amen,&quot; said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off, and was
+standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible
+velocity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's that?&quot; said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, and turning to
+Gluck with a fierce frown.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know, indeed, brother,&quot; said Gluck in great terror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How did he get in?&quot; roared Schwartz.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear brother,&quot; said Gluck, deprecatingly, &quot;he was so <i>very</i> wet!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head; but at the instant,
+the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed with
+a shock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What was
+very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out
+of Schwartz's hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell
+into the corner at the further end of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who are you, sir?&quot; demanded Schwartz, turning upon him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's your business?&quot; snarled Hans.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm a poor old man, sir,&quot; the little gentleman began very modestly,
+&quot;and I saw your fire through the window, and begged shelter for a
+quarter of an hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have the goodness to walk out again, then,&quot; said Schwartz. &quot;We've
+quite enough water in our kitchen, without making it a drying-house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my gray
+hairs.&quot; They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay!&quot; said Hans, &quot;there are enough of them to keep you warm. Walk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of bread
+before I go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bread indeed!&quot; said Schwartz; &quot;do you suppose we've nothing to do
+with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why don't you sell your feather?&quot; said Hans, sneeringly. &quot;Out with
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little bit,&quot; said the old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be off!&quot; said Schwartz.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, gentlemen&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Off, and be hanged!&quot; cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he
+had no sooner touched the old gentleman's collar, than away he went
+after the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the
+corner on the top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the
+old gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him,
+when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head
+against the wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay,
+all three.</p>
+
+<p>Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the
+opposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all
+wound neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one
+side (for it could not stand upright without going through the
+ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and
+replied with perfect coolness: &quot;Gentlemen, I wish you a very good
+morning. At twelve o'clock to-night I'll call again; after such a
+refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, you will not be
+surprised if that visit is the last I ever pay you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If ever I catch you here again,&quot; muttered Schwartz, coming half
+frightened out of his corner&mdash;but, before he could finish his
+sentence, the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a
+great bang: and there drove past the window, at the same instant, a
+wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley
+in all manner of shapes; turning over and over in the air, and melting
+away at last in a gush of rain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!&quot; said Schwartz. &quot;Dish the
+mutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again&mdash;bless me, why,
+the mutton's been cut!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You promised me one slice, brother, you know,&quot; said Gluck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all
+the gravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again.
+Leave the room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar
+till I call you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much mutton
+as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and proceeded to get
+very drunk after dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without
+intermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all
+the shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They
+usually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were
+both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a
+violence that shook the house from top to bottom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only I,&quot; said the little gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the
+darkness. The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which
+found its way through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the
+midst of it an enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and
+down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined
+the little old gentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it
+now, for the roof was off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sorry to incommode you,&quot; said their visitor, ironically. &quot;I'm afraid
+your beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your brother's
+room: I've left the ceiling on, there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wet
+through, and in an agony of terror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll find my card on the kitchen table,&quot; the old gentleman called
+after them. &quot;Remember the <i>last</i> visit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray Heaven it may!&quot; said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globe
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's little
+window in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and
+desolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle,
+and left in their stead a waste of red sand and gray mud. The two
+brothers crept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water
+had gutted the whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movable
+thing, had been swept away and there was left only a small white card
+on the kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters,
+were engraved the words: <i>South-West Wind, Esquire</i>.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.&mdash;OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER THE VISIT OF
+SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE; AND HOW LITTLE GLUCK HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH
+THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.</h4>
+
+<p>Southwest Wind, Esquire, was as good as his word. After the momentous
+visit above related, he entered the Treasure Valley no more; and, what
+was worse, he had so much influence with his relations, the West Winds
+in general, and used it so effectually, that they all adopted a
+similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley from one year's
+end to another. Though everything remained green and flourishing in
+the plains below, the inheritance of the Three Brothers was a desert.
+What had once been the richest soil in the kingdom, became a shifting
+heap of red sand; and the brothers, unable longer to contend with the
+adverse skies, abandoned their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek
+some means of gaining a livelihood among the cities and people of the
+plains. All their money was gone, and they had nothing left but some
+curious, old-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of
+their ill-gotten wealth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Suppose we turn goldsmiths?&quot; said Schwartz to Hans, as they entered
+the large city. &quot;It is a good knave's trade; we can put a great deal
+of copper into the gold, without any one's finding it out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired a furnace,
+and turned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances affected their
+trade: the first, that people did not approve of the coppered gold;
+the second, that the two elder brothers, whenever they had sold
+anything, used to leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and
+drink out the money in the ale-house next door. So they melted all
+their gold, without making money enough to buy more, and were at last
+reduced to one large drinking-mug, which an uncle of his had given to
+little Gluck, and which he was very fond of, and would not have parted
+with for the world; though he never drank anything out of it but milk
+and water. The mug was a very odd mug to look at. The handle was
+formed of two wreaths of flowing golden hair, so finely spun that it
+looked more like silk than metal, and these wreaths descended into,
+and mixed with, a beard and whiskers of the same exquisite
+workmanship, which surrounded and decorated a very fierce little face,
+of the reddest gold imaginable, right in the front of the mug, with a
+pair of eyes in it which seemed to command its whole circumference. It
+was impossible to drink out of the mug without being subjected to an
+intense gaze out of the side of these eyes; and Schwartz positively
+averred, that once, after emptying it, full of Rhenish, seventeen
+times, he had seen them wink! When it came to the mug's turn to be
+made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck's heart: but the
+brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and
+staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual, to pour the
+gold into bars, when it was all ready.</p>
+
+<p>When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old friend in
+the melting-pot. The flowing hair was all gone; nothing remained but
+the red nose, and the sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than
+ever. &quot;And no wonder,&quot; thought Gluck, &quot;after being treated in that
+way.&quot; He sauntered disconsolately to the window, and sat himself down
+to catch the fresh evening air, and escape the hot breath of the
+furnace. Now this window commanded a direct view of the range of
+mountains, which, as I told before, overhung the Treasure Valley, and
+more especially of the peak from which fell the Golden River. It was
+just at the close of the day, and when Gluck sat down at the window he
+saw the rocks of the mountain tops, all crimson and purple with the
+sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and
+quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a
+waving column of pure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the
+double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing
+and fading alternately in the wreaths of spray.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said Gluck aloud, after he had looked at it for a while, &quot;if
+that river were really all gold, what a nice thing it would be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No it wouldn't, Gluck,&quot; said a clear, metallic voice close at his
+ear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bless me! what's that?&quot; exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. There was nobody
+there. He looked round the room, and under the table, and a great many
+times behind him, but there was certainly nobody there, and he sat
+down again at the window. This time he didn't speak, but he couldn't
+help thinking again that it would be very convenient if the river were
+really all gold.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not at all, my boy,&quot; said the same voice, louder than before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bless me!&quot; said Gluck again; &quot;what <i>is</i> that?&quot; He looked again into
+all the corners and cupboards, and then began turning round, and
+round, as fast as he could in the middle of the room, thinking there
+was somebody behind him, when the same voice struck again on his ear.
+It was singing now very merrily, &quot;Lala-lira-la;&quot; no words, only a soft
+running, effervescent melody, something like that of a kettle on the
+boil. Gluck looked out of the window. No, it was certainly in the
+house. Upstairs, and downstairs. No, it was certainly in that very
+room, coming in quicker time, and clearer notes, every moment.
+&quot;Lala-lira-la.&quot; All at once it struck Gluck that it sounded louder
+near the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked in: yes, he saw
+right; it seemed to be coming, not only out of the furnace, but out of
+the pot. He uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright, for the pot
+was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest corner of the room,
+with his hands up, and his mouth open, for a minute or two, when the
+singing stopped, and the voice became clear and pronunciative.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hollo!&quot; said the voice.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hollo! Gluck, my boy,&quot; said the pot again.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the crucible,
+drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. The gold was all melted,
+and its surface as smooth and polished as a river; but instead of
+reflecting little Gluck's head, as he looked in, he saw meeting his
+glance from beneath the gold the red nose and sharp eyes of his old
+friend of the mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever he
+had seen them in his life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, Gluck, my boy,&quot; said the voice out of the pot again, &quot;I'm all
+right; pour me out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pour me out, I say,&quot; said the voice rather gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>Still Gluck couldn't move.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Will</i> you pour me out?&quot; said the voice passionately. &quot;I'm too hot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took hold
+of the crucible, and sloped it so as to pour out the gold. But instead
+of a liquid stream, there came out, first, a pair of pretty little
+yellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of arms stuck akimbo,
+and, finally, the well-known head of his friend the mug; all which
+articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically on the
+floor, in the shape of a little golden dwarf, about a foot and a half
+high.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's right!&quot; said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs, and
+then his arms, and then shaking his head up and down, and as far round
+as it would go, for five minutes without stopping; apparently with the
+view of ascertaining if he were quite correctly put together, while
+Gluck stood contemplating him in speechless amazement. He was dressed
+in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so fine in its texture, that the
+prismatic colours gleamed over it, as if on a surface of
+mother-of-pearl; and, over this brilliant doublet, his hair and beard
+fell full halfway to the ground, in waving curls, so exquisitely
+delicate that Gluck could hardly tell where they ended; they seemed to
+melt into air. The features of the face, however, were by no means
+finished with the same delicacy; they were rather coarse, slightly
+inclining to coppery in complexion, and indicative, in expression, of
+a very pertinacious and intractable disposition in their small
+proprietor. When the dwarf had finished his self-examination, he
+turned his small eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him deliberately
+for a minute or two. &quot;No, it wouldn't, Gluck, my boy,&quot; said the little
+man.</p>
+
+<p>This was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected mode of commencing
+conversation. It might indeed be supposed to refer to the course of
+Gluck's thoughts, which had first produced the dwarf's observations
+out of the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had no inclination
+to dispute the dictum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wouldn't it, sir?&quot; said Gluck, very mildly and submissively indeed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said the dwarf, conclusively. &quot;No, it wouldn't.&quot; And with that,
+the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his brows, and took two turns, of
+three feet long, up and down the room, lifting his legs up very high,
+and setting them down very hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to
+collect his thoughts a little, and, seeing no great reason to view his
+diminutive visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosity overcome his
+amazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar delicacy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, sir,&quot; said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, &quot;were you my mug?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On which the little man turned sharp round, walked straight up to
+Gluck, and drew himself up to his full height. &quot;I,&quot; said the little
+man, &quot;am the King of the Golden River.&quot; Whereupon he turned about
+again, and took two more turns, some six feet long, in order to allow
+time for the consternation which this announcement produced in his
+auditor to evaporate. After which, he again walked up to Gluck and
+stood still, as if expecting some comment on his communication.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck determined to say something at all events. &quot;I hope your Majesty
+is very well,&quot; said Gluck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen!&quot; said the little man, deigning no reply to this polite
+inquiry. &quot;I am the King of what you mortals call the Golden River. The
+shape you saw me in was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from
+whose enchantments you have this instant freed me. What I have seen of
+you, and your conduct to your wicked brothers, renders me willing to
+serve you; therefore, attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall climb
+to the top of that mountain from which you see the Golden River
+issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source three drops of
+holy water, for him, and for him only, the river shall turn to gold.
+But no one failing in his first, can succeed in a second attempt; and
+if anyone shall cast unholy water into the river, it will overwhelm
+him, and he will become a black stone.&quot; So saying, the King of the
+Golden River turned away and deliberately walked into the centre of
+the hottest flame of the furnace. His figure became red, white,
+transparent, dazzling&mdash;a blaze of intense light&mdash;rose, trembled, and
+disappeared. The King of the Golden River had evaporated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney after him; &quot;oh
+dear, dear, dear me! My mug! my mug! my mug!&quot;</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.&mdash;HOW MR. HANS SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN</h4>
+
+<p>The King of the Golden River had hardly made the extraordinary exit
+related in the last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz came roaring
+into the house, very savagely drunk. The discovery of the total loss
+of their last piece of plate had the effect of sobering them just
+enough to enable them to stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily
+for a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which period they
+dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested to know what he had to
+say for himself. Gluck told them his story, of which, of course, they
+did not believe a word. They beat him again, till their arms were
+tired, and staggered to bed. In the morning, however, the steadiness
+with which he adhered to his story obtained him some degree of
+credence; the immediate consequence of which was, that the two
+brothers, after wrangling a long time on the knotty question, which
+of them should try his fortune first, drew their swords and began
+fighting. The noise of the fray alarmed the neighbours who, finding
+they could not pacify the combatants, sent for the constable.</p>
+
+<p>Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid himself; but
+Schwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for breaking the
+peace, and, having drunk out his last penny the evening before, was
+thrown into prison till he should pay.</p>
+
+<p>When Hans heard this, he was much delighted, and determined to set out
+immediately for the Golden River. How to get the holy water was the
+question. He went to the priest, but the priest could not give any
+holy water to so abandoned a character. So Hans went to vespers in the
+evening for the first time in his life, and, under pretence of
+crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned home in triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy water into a
+strong flask, and two bottles of wine and some meat in a basket, slung
+them over his back, took his alpine staff in his hand, and set off for
+the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>On his way out of the town he had to pass the prison, and as he looked
+in at the windows, whom should he see but Schwartz himself peeping out
+of the bars, and looking very disconsolate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good morning, brother,&quot; said Hans; &quot;have you any message for the King
+of the Golden River?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars with all his
+strength; but Hans only laughed at him, and advising him to make
+himself comfortable till he came back again, shouldered his basket,
+shook the bottle of holy water in Schwartz's face till it frothed
+again, and marched off in the highest spirits in the world.</p>
+
+<p>It was, indeed, a morning that might have made anyone happy, even
+with no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay
+stretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy
+mountains&mdash;their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly
+distinguishable from the floating vapour, but gradually ascending till
+they caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy colour
+along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through
+their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red splintered
+masses of castellated rock, jagged and shivered into myriads of
+fantastic forms, with here and there a streak of sunlit snow, traced
+down their chasms like a line of forked lightning; and, far beyond,
+and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, but purer and
+changeless, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the eternal
+snow.</p>
+
+<p>The Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower and snowless
+elevations, was now nearly in shadow; all but the uppermost jets of
+spray, which rose like slow smoke above the undulating line of the
+cataract, and floated away in feeble wreaths upon the morning wind.</p>
+
+<p>On this object, and on this alone, Hans's eyes and thoughts were
+fixed; forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set off at an
+imprudent rate of walking, which greatly exhausted him before he had
+scaled the first range of the green and low hills. He was, moreover,
+surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a large glacier, of whose
+existence, notwithstanding his previous knowledge of the mountains, he
+had been absolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source of the
+Golden River. He entered on it with the boldness of a practised
+mountaineer; yet he thought he had never traversed so strange or so
+dangerous a glacier in his life. The ice was excessively slippery, and
+out of all its chasms came wild sounds of gushing water; not
+monotonous or low; but changeful and loud, rising occasionally into
+drifting passages of wild melody, then breaking off into short
+melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling those of human voices
+in distress or pain. The ice was broken into thousands of confused
+shapes, but none, Hans thought like the ordinary forms of splintered
+ice. There seemed a curious <i>expression</i> about all their outlines&mdash;a
+perpetual resemblance to living features, distorted and scornful.
+Myriads of deceitful shadows, and lurid lights, played and floated
+about and through the pale-blue pinnacles, dazzling and confusing the
+sight of the traveller; while his ears grew dull and his head giddy
+with the constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. These painful
+circumstances increased upon him as he advanced; the ice crashed and
+yawned into fresh chasms at his feet, tottering spires nodded around
+him, and fell thundering across his path; and, though he had
+repeatedly faced these dangers on the most terrific glaciers, and in
+the wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling of panic
+terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flung himself, exhausted and
+shuddering, on the firm turf of the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>He had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, which became a
+perilous incumbrance on the glacier, and had now no means of
+refreshing himself but by breaking off and eating some of the pieces
+of ice. This, however, relieved his thirst; an hour's repose recruited
+his hardy frame, and, with the indomitable spirit of avarice, he
+resumed his laborious journey.</p>
+
+<p>His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red rocks, without a blade
+of grass to ease the foot, or a projecting angle to afford an inch of
+shade from the south sun. It was past noon, and the rays beat
+intensely upon the steep path, while the whole atmosphere was
+motionless, and penetrated with heat. Intense thirst was soon added
+to the bodily fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glance after
+glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at his belt. &quot;Three
+drops are enough,&quot; at last thought he; &quot;I may, at least, cool my lips
+with it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He opened the flask, and was raising it to his lips, when his eye fell
+on an object lying on the rock beside him; he thought it moved. It was
+a small dog, apparently in the last agony of death from thirst. Its
+tongue was out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, and a
+swarm of black ants were crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye
+moved to the bottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised it, drank,
+spurned the animal with his foot, and passed on. And he did not know
+how it was, but he thought that a strange shadow had suddenly come
+across the blue sky.</p>
+
+<p>The path became steeper and more rugged every moment; and the high
+hill air, instead of refreshing him, seemed to throw his blood into a
+fever. The noise of the hill cataracts sounded like mockery in his
+ears; they were all distant, and his thirst increased every moment.
+Another hour passed, and he again looked down to the flask at his
+side; it was half empty; but there was much more than three drops in
+it. He stopped to open it, and again, as he did so, something moved in
+the path above him. It was a fair child, stretched nearly lifeless on
+the rock, its breast heaving with thirst, its eyes closed, and its
+lips parched and burning. Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed
+on. And a dark-gray cloud came over the sun, and long, snake-like
+shadows crept up along the mountain sides. Hans struggled on. The sun
+was sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no coolness; the leaden
+weight of the dead air pressed upon his brow and heart, but the goal
+was near. He saw the cataract of the Golden River springing from the
+hillside, scarcely five hundred feet above him. He paused for a
+moment to breathe, and sprang on to complete his task.</p>
+
+<p>At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned, and saw a
+gray-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes were sunk, his
+features deadly pale, and gathered into an expression of despair.
+&quot;Water!&quot; he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried feebly, &quot;Water! I am
+dying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have none,&quot; replied Hans; &quot;thou hast had thy share of life.&quot; He
+strode over the prostrate body, and darted on. And a flash of blue
+lightning rose out of the east, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice
+over the whole heaven, and left it dark with one heavy, impenetrable
+shade. The sun was setting; it plunged toward the horizon like a
+red-hot ball.</p>
+
+<p>The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans's ear. He stood at the brink
+of the chasm through which it ran. Its waves were filled with the red
+glory of the sunset: they shook their crests like tongues of fire, and
+flashes of bloody light gleamed along their foam. Their sound came
+mightier and mightier on his senses; his brain grew giddy with the
+prolonged thunder. Shuddering he drew the flask from his girdle, and
+hurled it into the centre of the torrent. As he did so, an icy chill
+shot through his limbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The waters
+closed over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the
+night, as it gushed over <i>The Black Stone</i>.</p>
+
+
+<h4>IV.&mdash;HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER,
+AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN</h4>
+
+<p>Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house for Hans's
+return. Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened, and
+went and told Schwartz in the prison all that had happened. Then
+Schwartz was very much pleased, and said that Hans must certainly
+have been turned into a black stone, and he should have all the gold
+to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all night. When he got
+up in the morning there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so
+Gluck went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so
+hard, and so neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money
+enough together to pay his brother's fine, and he went and gave it all
+to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then Schwartz was quite
+pleased, and said he should have some of the gold of the river. But
+Gluck only begged he would go and see what had become of Hans.</p>
+
+<p>Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen the holy water, he
+thought to himself that such a proceeding might not be considered
+altogether correct by the King of the Golden River, and determined to
+manage matters better. So he took some more of Gluck's money, and went
+to a bad priest who gave him some holy water very readily for it. Then
+Schwartz was sure it was all quite right. So Schwartz got up early in
+the morning before the sun rose, and took some bread and wine in a
+basket, and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for the
+mountains. Like his brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the
+glacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving
+his basket behind him. The day was cloudless, but not bright: there
+was a heavy purple haze hanging over the sky, and the hills looked
+lowering and gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock path, the
+thirst came upon him, as it had upon his brother, until he lifted his
+flask to his lips to drink. Then he saw the fair child lying near him
+on the rocks, and it cried to him, and moaned for water.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Water, indeed,&quot; said Schwartz; &quot;I haven't half enough for myself,&quot;
+and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeams grew more dim,
+and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising out of the west; and, when
+he had climbed for another hour, the thirst overcame him again, and he
+would have drunk. Then he saw the old man lying before him on the
+path, and heard him cry out for water. &quot;Water, indeed,&quot; said Schwartz;
+&quot;I haven't half enough for myself,&quot; and on he went.</p>
+
+<p>Then again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and he
+looked up, and, behold, a mist, of the colour of blood, had come over
+the sun; and the bank of black cloud had risen very high, and its
+edges were tossing and tumbling like the waves of an angry sea. And
+they cast long shadows, which flickered over Schwartz's path.</p>
+
+<p>Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his thirst returned;
+and as he lifted his flask to his lips, he thought he saw his brother
+Hans lying exhausted on the path before him; and, as he gazed, the
+figure stretched its arms to him, and cried for water. &quot;Ha, ha,&quot;
+laughed Schwartz, &quot;are you there? Remember the prison bars, my boy.
+Water indeed! Do you suppose I carried it all the way up here for
+<i>you</i>?&quot; And he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed, he thought
+he saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips. And, when he
+had gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure was not
+there.</p>
+
+<p>And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not why; but the
+thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, and he rushed on. And the
+bank of black cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of
+spiry lightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heave and float
+between their flashes over the whole heavens. And the sky where the
+sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood; and a strong
+wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into fragments,
+and scattering them far into the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by
+the brink of the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder
+clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the waters
+below, and the thunder above, met, as he cast the flask into the
+stream. And, as he did so, the lightning glared into his eyes, and the
+earth gave way beneath him, and the waters closed over his cry. And
+the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over
+the <i>Two Black Stones</i>.</p>
+
+
+<h4>V.&mdash;HOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN; WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST</h4>
+
+<p>When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back he was very sorry,
+and did not know what to do. He had no money, and was obliged to go
+and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard, and
+gave him very little money. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew
+tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden
+River. &quot;The little king looked very kind,&quot; thought he. &quot;I don't think
+he will turn me into a black stone.&quot; So he went to the priest, and the
+priest gave him some holy water as soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck
+took some bread in his basket, and the bottle of water, and set off
+very early for the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers,
+it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so
+practised on the mountains. He had several very bad falls, lost his
+basket and bread, and was very much frightened at the strange noises
+under the ice. He lay a long time to rest on the grass, after he had
+got over, and began to climb the hill in just the hottest part of the
+day. When he had climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty, and
+was going to drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming
+down the path above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on a staff.
+&quot;My son,&quot; said the old man, &quot;I am faint with thirst, give me some of
+that water.&quot; Then Gluck looked at him, and, when he saw that he was
+pale and weary, he gave him the water. &quot;Only pray don't drink it all,&quot;
+said Gluck. But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the
+bottle two-thirds empty. Then he bade him good speed, and Gluck went
+on again merrily. And the path became easier to his feet, and two or
+three blades of grass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began
+singing on the bank beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard
+such merry singing.</p>
+
+<p>Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him so
+that he thought he should be forced to drink. But, as he raised the
+flask, he saw a little child lying panting by the roadside, and it
+cried out piteously for water. Then Gluck struggled with himself, and
+determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle
+to the child's lips, and it drank it all but a few drops. Then it
+smiled on him, and got up, and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked
+after it till it became as small as a little star, and then turned and
+began climbing again. And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers
+growing on the rocks, bright green moss, with pale pink starry
+flowers, and soft belled gentians, more blue than the sky at its
+deepest, and pure white transparent lilies. And crimson and purple
+butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure
+light, that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became
+intolerable again; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw that
+there were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not venture
+to drink. And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw
+a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath&mdash;just as Hans had
+seen it on the day of his ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at it
+and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him; and he
+thought of the dwarf's words, &quot;that no one could succeed, except in
+his first attempt&quot;; and he tried to pass the dog, but it whined
+piteously, and Gluck stopped again. &quot;Poor beastie!&quot; said Gluck: &quot;it'll
+be dead when I come down again, if I don't help it.&quot; Then he looked
+closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mournfully that
+he could not stand it. &quot;Confound the King and his gold too,&quot; said
+Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the water into the
+dog's mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail disappeared,
+its ears became long, longer, silky, golden; its nose became very red,
+its eyes became very twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, and
+before Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of the Golden River.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; said the monarch; &quot;but don't be frightened, it's all
+right&quot;; for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternation at this
+unlooked-for reply to his last observation. &quot;Why didn't you come
+before,&quot; continued the dwarf, &quot;instead of sending me those rascally
+brothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of turning into stones?
+Very hard stones they make too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh dear me!&quot; said Gluck; &quot;have you really been so cruel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cruel!&quot; said the dwarf, &quot;they poured unholy water into my stream; do
+you suppose I'm going to allow that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said Gluck, &quot;I am sure, sir&mdash;your Majesty, I mean&mdash;they got the
+water out of the church font.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very probably,&quot; replied the dwarf; &quot;but,&quot; and his countenance grew
+stern as he spoke, &quot;the water which has been refused to the cry of
+the weary and dying is unholy, though it had been blessed by every
+saint in heaven; and the water which is found in the vessel of mercy
+is holy, though it had been defiled with corpses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his feet.
+On its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. And the dwarf
+shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his hand. &quot;Cast these
+into the river,&quot; he said, &quot;and descend on the other side of the
+mountains into the Treasure Valley. And so good speed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. The playing
+colours of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic mist of dewy
+light; he stood for an instant veiled with them as with the belt of a
+broad rainbow. The colours grew faint, the mist rose into the air; the
+monarch had evaporated.</p>
+
+<p>And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its waves were
+as clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun. And, when he cast
+the three drops of dew into the stream, there opened where they fell a
+small circular whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a
+musical noise.</p>
+
+<p>Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed, because
+not only the river was not turned into gold, but its waters seemed
+much diminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend the dwarf, and
+descended the other side of the mountains toward the Treasure Valley;
+and, as he went, he thought he heard the noise of water working its
+way under the ground. And, when he came in sight of the Treasure
+Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden River was springing from a
+new cleft of the rocks above it, and was flowing in innumerable
+streams among the dry heaps of red sand.</p>
+
+<p>And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams, and
+creeping plants grew, and climbed among this moistening soil. Young
+flowers opened suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap out when
+twilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and tendrils of vine,
+cast lengthening shadows over the valley as they grew. And thus the
+Treasure Valley became a garden again, and the inheritance which had
+been lost by cruelty was regained by love.</p>
+
+<p>And Gluck went, and dwelt in the valley, and the poor were never
+driven from his door: so that his barns became full of corn, and his
+house of treasure. And, for him, the river had, according to the
+dwarf's promise, become a River of Gold.</p>
+
+<p>And, to this day, the inhabitants of the valley point out the place
+where the three drops of holy dew were cast into the stream, and trace
+the course of the Golden River under the ground, until it emerges in
+the Treasure Valley. And at the top of the cataract of the Golden
+River are still to be seen two BLACK STONES, round which the waters
+howl mournfully every day at sunset, and these stones are still called
+by the people of the valley <i>The Black Brothers</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III" id="III">III</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE SNOW-IMAGE: A CHILDISH MIRACLE</h2>
+
+
+<p>One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with
+chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of
+their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. The elder
+child was a girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest
+disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and
+other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her
+brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the
+ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody
+think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. The father of these two
+children, a certain Mr. Lindsey, it is important to say, was an
+excellent but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man, a dealer in
+hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what is called the
+common-sense view of all matters that came under his consideration.
+With a heart about as tender as other people's, he had a head as hard
+and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty, as one of the iron
+pots which it was a part of his business to sell. The mother's
+character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it, a trait of
+unworldly beauty&mdash;a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had
+survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive
+amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood.</p>
+
+<p>So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought their mother to
+let them run out and play in the new snow; for, though it had looked
+so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a
+very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shining on it. The children
+dwelt in a city, and had no wider play-place than a little garden
+before the house, divided by a white fence from the street, and with a
+pear-tree and two or three plum-trees overshadowing it, and some
+rose-bushes just in front of the parlour-windows. The trees and
+shrubs, however, were now leafless, and their twigs were enveloped in
+the light snow, which thus made a kind of wintry foliage, with here
+and there a pendent icicle for the fruit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Violet&mdash;yes, my little Peony,&quot; said their kind mother; &quot;you may
+go out and play in the new snow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, the good lady bundled up her darlings in woollen jackets
+and wadded sacks, and put comforters round their necks, and a pair of
+striped gaiters on each little pair of legs, and worsted mittens on
+their hands, and gave them a kiss apiece, by way of a spell to keep
+away Jack Frost. Forth sallied the two children, with a
+hop-skip-and-jump, that carried them at once into the very heart of a
+huge snow-drift, whence Violet emerged like a snow-bunting, while
+little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom. Then
+what a merry time had they! To look at them, frolicking in the wintry
+garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had
+been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for
+Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the
+snow-birds were, to take delight only in the tempest, and in the white
+mantle which it spread over the earth.</p>
+
+<p>At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of
+snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was
+struck with a new idea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony,&quot; said she, &quot;if your cheeks
+were not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us make an image out
+of snow&mdash;an image of a little girl&mdash;and it shall be our sister, and
+shall run about and play with us all winter long. Won't it be nice?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, yes!&quot; cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but a
+little boy. &quot;That will be nice! And mamma shall see it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Violet; &quot;mamma shall see the new little girl. But she
+must not make her come into the warm parlour; for, you know, our
+little snow-sister will not love the warmth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And forthwith the children began this great business of making a
+snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting
+at the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling
+at the gravity with which they set about it. They really seemed to
+imagine that there would be no difficulty whatever in creating a live
+little girl out of the snow. And, to say the truth, if miracles are
+ever to be wrought, it will be by putting our hands to the work in
+precisely such a simple and undoubting frame of mind as that in which
+Violet and Peony now undertook to perform one, without so much as
+knowing that it was a miracle. So thought the mother; and thought,
+likewise, that the new snow, just fallen from heaven, would be
+excellent material to make new beings of, if it were not so very cold.
+She gazed at the children a moment longer, delighting to watch their
+little figures&mdash;the girl, tall for her age, graceful and agile, and so
+delicately coloured that she looked like a cheerful thought, more than
+a physical reality; while Peony expanded in breadth rather than
+height, and rolled along on his short and sturdy legs as substantial
+as an elephant, though not quite so big. Then the mother resumed her
+work. What it was I forget; but she was either trimming a silken
+bonnet for Violet, or darning a pair of stockings for little Peony's
+short legs. Again, however, and again, and yet other agains, she could
+not help turning her head to the window to see how the children got on
+with their snow-image.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight, those bright little
+souls at their task! Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe how
+knowingly and skilfully they managed the matter. Violet assumed the
+chief direction, and told Peony what to do, while, with her own
+delicate fingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the
+snow-figure. It seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the
+children, as to grow up under their hands, while they were playing and
+prattling about it. Their mother was quite surprised at this; and the
+longer she looked, the more and more surprised she grew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What remarkable children mine are!&quot; thought she, smiling with a
+mother's pride; and, smiling at herself, too, for being so proud of
+them. &quot;What other children could have made anything so like a little
+girl's figure out of snow at the first trial? Well; but now I must
+finish Peony's new frock, for his grandfather is coming to-morrow, and
+I want the little fellow to look handsome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So she took up the frock, and was soon as busily at work again with
+her needle as the two children with their snow-image. But still, as
+the needle travelled hither and thither through the seams of the
+dress, the mother made her toil light and happy by listening to the
+airy voices of Violet and Peony. They kept talking to one another all
+the time, their tongues being quite as active as their feet and hands.
+Except at intervals, she could not distinctly hear what was said, but
+had merely a sweet impression that they were in a most loving mood,
+and were enjoying themselves highly, and that the business of making
+the snow-image went prosperously on. Now and then, however, when
+Violet and Peony happened to raise their voices, the words were as
+audible as if they had been spoken in the very parlour, where the
+mother sat. O how delightfully those words echoed in her heart, even
+though they meant nothing so very wise or wonderful, after all!</p>
+
+<p>But you must know a mother listens with her heart, much more than with
+her ears; and thus she is often delighted with the trills of celestial
+music, when other people can hear nothing of the kind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Peony, Peony!&quot; cried Violet to her brother, who had gone to another
+part of the garden, &quot;bring me some of that fresh snow, Peony, from the
+very farthest corner, where we have not been trampling. I want it to
+shape our little snow-sister's bosom with. You know that part must be
+quite pure, just as it came out of the sky!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here it is, Violet!&quot; answered Peony, in his bluff tone&mdash;but a very
+sweet tone, too&mdash;as he came floundering through the half-trodden
+drifts. &quot;Here is the snow for her little bosom. O Violet, how
+beau-ti-ful she begins to look!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Violet, thoughtfully and quietly; &quot;our snow-sister does
+look very lovely. I did not quite know, Peony, that we could make such
+a sweet little girl as this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful an
+incident it would be, if fairies, or, still better, if angel-children
+were to come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings,
+and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features of
+celestial babyhood! Violet and Peony would not be aware of their
+immortal playmates&mdash;only they could see that the image grew very
+beautiful while they worked at it, and would think that they
+themselves had done it all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My little girl and boy deserve such playmates, if mortal children
+ever did!&quot; said the mother to herself; and then she smiled again at
+her own motherly pride.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, the ideas seized upon her imagination; and ever and
+anon, she took a glimpse out of the window, half dreaming that she
+might see the golden-haired children of paradise sporting with her own
+golden-haired Violet and bright-cheeked Peony.</p>
+
+<p>Now, for a few moments, there was a busy and earnest, but indistinct
+hum of the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together
+with one happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit,
+while Peony acted rather as a labourer, and brought her the snow from
+far and near. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper
+understanding of the matter, too!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Peony, Peony!&quot; cried Violet; for the brother was again at the other
+side of the garden. &quot;Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have
+rested on the lower branches of the pear-tree. You can clamber on the
+snow-drift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make
+some ringlets for our snow-sister's head!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here they are, Violet!&quot; answered the little boy. &quot;Take care you do
+not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Does she not look sweet?&quot; said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;
+&quot;and now we must have some little shining bits of ice, to make the
+brightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see how
+very beautiful she is; but papa will say, 'Tush! nonsense!&mdash;come in
+out of the cold!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us call mamma to look out,&quot; said Peony; and then he shouted
+lustily, &quot;Mamma! mamma!! mamma!!! Look out, and see what a nice 'ittle
+girl we are making.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother put down her work, for an instant, and looked out of the
+window. But it so happened that the sun&mdash;for this was one of the
+shortest days of the whole year&mdash;had sunken so nearly to the edge of
+the world, that his setting shine came obliquely into the lady's eyes.
+So she was dazzled, you must understand, and could not very distinctly
+observe what was in the garden. Still, however, through all that
+bright, blinding dazzle of the sun and the new snow, she beheld a
+small white figure in the garden, that seemed to have a wonderful deal
+of human likeness about it. And she saw Violet and Peony&mdash;indeed, she
+looked more at them than at the image&mdash;she saw the two children still
+at work; Peony bringing fresh snow, and Violet applying it to the
+figure as scientifically as a sculptor adds clay to his model.
+Indistinctly as she discerned the snow-child, the mother thought to
+herself that never before was there a snow-figure so cunningly made,
+nor ever such a dear little girl and boy to make it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They do everything better than other children,&quot; said she, very
+complacently. &quot;No wonder they make better snow-images!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat down again to her work, and made as much haste with it as
+possible; because twilight would soon come, and Peony's frock was not
+yet finished, and grandfather was expected, by railroad, pretty early
+in the morning. Faster and faster, therefore, went her flying fingers.
+The children, likewise, kept busily at work in the garden, and still
+the mother listened, whenever she could catch a word. She was amused
+to observe how their little imaginations had got mixed up with what
+they were doing, and were carried away by it. They seemed positively
+to think that the snow-child would run about and play with them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a nice playmate she will be for us, all winter long!&quot; said
+Violet. &quot;I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold!
+Sha'n't you love her dearly, Peony?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O yes!&quot; cried Peony. &quot;And I will hug her and she shall sit down
+close by me, and drink some of my warm milk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O no, Peony!&quot; answered Violet, with grave wisdom. &quot;That will not do
+at all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister.
+Little snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no, Peony;
+we must not give her anything warm to drink!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legs were
+never weary, had gone on a pilgrimage again to the other side of the
+garden. All of a sudden, Violet cried out, loudly and joyfully&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining on her cheek
+out of that rose-coloured cloud! and the colour does not go away! Is
+not that beautiful!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; it is beau-ti-ful,&quot; answered Peony, pronouncing the three
+syllables with deliberate accuracy. &quot;O Violet, only look at her hair!
+It is all like gold!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, certainly,&quot; said Violet, with tranquillity, as if it were very
+much a matter of course. &quot;That colour, you know, comes from the golden
+clouds, that we see up there in the sky. She is almost finished now.
+But her lips must be made very red&mdash;redder than her cheeks. Perhaps,
+Peony, it will make them red if we both kiss them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both her
+children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But, as this
+did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next proposed
+that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!&quot; cried Peony.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There! she has kissed you,&quot; added Violet, &quot;and her lips are very red.
+And she blushed a little, too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, what a cold kiss!&quot; cried Peony.</p>
+
+<p>Just then, there came a breeze of the pure west-wind, sweeping
+through the garden and rattling the parlour-windows. It sounded so
+wintry cold, that the mother was about to tap on the window-pane with
+her thimbled finger, to summon the two children in, when they both
+cried out to her with one voice. The tone was not a tone of surprise,
+although they were evidently a good deal excited; it appeared rather
+as if they were very much rejoiced at some event that had now
+happened, but which they had been looking for, and had reckoned upon
+all along.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mamma! mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, and she is
+running about the garden with us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What imaginative little beings my children are!&quot; thought the mother,
+putting the last few stitches into Peony's frock. &quot;And it is strange,
+too, that they make me almost as much a child as they themselves are!
+I can hardly help believing, now, that the snow-image has really come
+to life!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear mamma!&quot; cried Violet, &quot;pray look out and see what a sweet
+playmate we have!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look forth
+from the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving,
+however, a rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and
+golden clouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent. But
+there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the window or
+on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over the garden, and
+see everything and everybody in it. And what do you think she saw
+there? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling children. Ah,
+but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe me,
+there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with
+rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the
+garden with the two children! A stranger though she was, the child
+seemed to be on as familiar terms with Violet and Peony, and they
+with her, as if all the three had been playmates during the whole of
+their little lives. The mother thought to herself that it must
+certainly be the daughter of one of the neighbours, and that, seeing
+Violet, and Peony in the garden, the child had run across the street
+to play with them. So this kind lady went to the door, intending to
+invite the little runaway into her comfortable parlour; for, now that
+the sunshine was withdrawn, the atmosphere, out of doors, was already
+growing very cold.</p>
+
+<p>But, after opening the house-door, she stood an instant on the
+threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in,
+or whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted
+whether it were a real child, after all, or only a light wreath of the
+new-fallen snow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the
+intensely cold west-wind. There was certainly something very singular
+in the aspect of the little stranger. Among all the children of the
+neighbourhood, the lady could remember no such face, with its pure
+white, and delicate rose-colour, and the golden ringlets tossing about
+the forehead and cheeks. And as for her dress, which was entirely of
+white, and fluttering in the breeze, it was such as no reasonable
+woman would put upon a little girl, when sending her out to play, in
+the depth of winter. It made this kind and careful mother shiver only
+to look at those small feet, with nothing in the world on them, except
+a very thin pair of white slippers. Nevertheless, airily as she was
+clad, the child seemed to feel not the slightest inconvenience from
+the cold, but danced so lightly over the snow that the tips of her
+toes left hardly a print in its surface; while Violet could but just
+keep pace with her, and Peony's short legs compelled him to lag
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>Once, in the course of their play, the strange child placed herself
+between Violet and Peony, and taking a hand of each, skipped merrily
+forward, and they along with her. Almost immediately, however, Peony
+pulled away his little fist, and began to rub it as if the fingers
+were tingling with cold; while Violet also released herself, though
+with less abruptness, gravely remarking that it was better not to take
+hold of hands. The white-robed damsel said not a word, but danced
+about, just as merrily as before. If Violet and Peony did not choose
+to play with her, she could make just as good a playmate of the brisk
+and cold west-wind, which kept blowing her all about the garden, and
+took such liberties with her, that they seemed to have been friends
+for a long time. All this while, the mother stood on the threshold,
+wondering how a little girl could look so much like a flying
+snow-drift, or how a snow-drift could look so very like a little girl.</p>
+
+<p>She called Violet, and whispered to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Violet, my darling, what is this child's name?&quot; asked she. &quot;Does she
+live near us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, dearest mamma,&quot; answered Violet, laughing to think that her
+mother did not comprehend so very plain an affair, &quot;this is our little
+snow-sister, whom we have just been making!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, dear mamma,&quot; cried Peony, running to his mother and looking up
+simply into her face, &quot;This is our snow-image! Is it not a nice 'ittle
+child?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this instant a flock of snow-birds came flitting through the air.
+As was very natural, they avoided Violet and Peony. But&mdash;and this
+looked strange&mdash;they flew at once to the white-robed child, fluttered
+eagerly about her head, alighted on her shoulders, and seemed to claim
+her as an old acquaintance. She, on her part, was evidently as glad to
+see these little birds, old Winter's grandchildren, as they were to
+see her, and welcomed them by holding out both her hands. Hereupon,
+they each and all tried to alight on her two palms and ten small
+fingers and thumbs, crowding one another off, with an immense
+fluttering of their tiny wings. One dear little bird nestled tenderly
+in her bosom; another put its bill to her lips. They were as joyous,
+all the while, and seemed as much in their element, as you may have
+seen them when sporting with a snow-storm.</p>
+
+<p>Violet and Peony stood laughing at this pretty sight: for they enjoyed
+the merry time which their new playmate was having with their
+small-winged visitants, almost as much as if they themselves took part
+in it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Violet,&quot; said her mother, greatly perplexed, &quot;tell me the truth,
+without any jest. Who is this little girl?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My darling mamma,&quot; answered Violet, looking seriously into her
+mother's face, and apparently surprised that she should need any
+further explanation, &quot;I have told you truly who she is. It is our
+little snow-image, which Peony and I have been making. Peony will tell
+you so, as well as I.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, mamma,&quot; asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his crimson
+little phiz, &quot;this is 'ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one? But,
+mamma, her hand, is oh, so very cold!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>While mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, the
+street-gate was thrown open, and the father of Violet and Peony
+appeared, wrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn down
+over his ears, and the thickest of gloves upon his hands. Mr. Lindsey
+was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy look in his
+wind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy all the
+day long, and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyes
+brightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he could
+not help uttering a word or two of surprise, at finding the whole
+family in the open air, on so bleak a day, and after sunset too. He
+soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro in the
+garden, like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snow-birds
+fluttering about her head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, what little girl may that be?&quot; inquired this very sensible man.
+&quot;Surely her mother must be crazy, to let her go out in such bitter
+weather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy white gown and
+those thin slippers!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear husband,&quot; said his wife, &quot;I know no more about the little
+thing than you do. Some neighbour's child, I suppose. Our Violet and
+Peony,&quot; she added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a
+story, &quot;insist that she is nothing but a snow-image, which they have
+been busy about in the garden, almost all the afternoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot where
+the children's snow-image had been made. What was her surprise, on
+perceiving that there was not the slightest trace of so much
+labour!&mdash;no image at all&mdash;no piled up heap of snow&mdash;nothing whatever,
+save the prints of little footsteps around a vacant space!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is very strange!&quot; said she.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is strange, dear mother?&quot; asked Violet. &quot;Dear father, do not you
+see how it is? This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made,
+because we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, papa,&quot; said crimson Peony. &quot;This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is
+she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pooh, nonsense, children!&quot; cried their good, honest father, who, as
+we have already intimated, had an exceedingly common-sensible way of
+looking at matters. &quot;Do not tell me of making live figures out of
+snow. Come, wife; this little stranger must not stay out in the bleak
+air a moment longer. We will bring her into the parlour; and you
+shall give her a supper of warm bread and milk, and make her as
+comfortable as you can. Meanwhile, I will inquire among the
+neighbours; or, if necessary, send the city-crier about the streets,
+to give notice of a lost child.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, this honest and very kind-hearted man was going toward the
+little white damsel, with the best intentions in the world. But Violet
+and Peony, each seizing their father by the hand, earnestly besought
+him not to make her come in.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear father,&quot; cried Violet, putting herself before him, &quot;it is true
+what I have been telling you! This is our little snow-girl, and she
+cannot live any longer than while she breathes the cold west-wind. Do
+not make her come into the hot room!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, father,&quot; shouted Peony, stamping his little foot, so mightily
+was he in earnest, &quot;this be nothing but our 'ittle snow-child! She
+will not love the hot fire!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense!&quot; cried the father, half
+vexed, half laughing at what he considered their foolish obstinacy.
+&quot;Run into the house, this moment! It is too late to play any longer,
+now. I must take care of this little girl immediately, or she will
+catch her death a-cold!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Husband! dear husband!&quot; said his wife, in a low voice&mdash;for she had
+been looking narrowly at the snow-child, and was more perplexed than
+ever&mdash;there is something very singular in all this. &quot;You will think me
+foolish&mdash;but&mdash;but&mdash;may it not be that some invisible angel has been
+attracted by the simplicity and good faith with which our children set
+about their undertaking? May he not have spent an hour of his
+immortality in playing with those dear little souls? and so the result
+is what we call a miracle. No, no! Do not laugh at me; I see what a
+foolish thought it is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear wife,&quot; replied the husband, laughing heartily, &quot;you are as
+much a child as Violet and Peony.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And in one sense so she was, for all through life she had kept her
+heart full of childlike simplicity and faith, which was as pure and
+clear as crystal; and, looking at all matters through this transparent
+medium, she sometimes saw truths so profound, that other people
+laughed at them as nonsense and absurdity.</p>
+
+<p>But now kind Mr. Lindsey had entered the garden, breaking away from
+his two children, who still sent their shrill voices after him,
+beseeching him to let the snow-child stay and enjoy herself in the
+cold west-wind. As he approached, the snow-birds took to flight. The
+little white damsel, also, fled backward, shaking her head, as if to
+say, &quot;Pray, do not touch me!&quot; and roguishly, as it appeared, leading
+him through the deepest of the snow. Once, the good man stumbled, and
+floundered down upon his face, so that, gathering himself up again,
+with the snow sticking to his rough pilot-cloth sack, he looked as
+white and wintry as a snow-image of the largest size. Some of the
+neighbours, meanwhile, seeing him from their windows, wondered what
+could possess poor Mr. Lindsey to be running about his garden in
+pursuit of a snow-drift, which the west-wind was driving hither and
+thither! At length, after a vast deal of trouble, he chased the little
+stranger into a corner, where she could not possibly escape him. His
+wife had been looking on, and, it being nearly twilight, was
+wonderstruck to observe how the snow-child gleamed and sparkled, and
+how she seemed to shed a glow all round about her; and when driven
+into the corner, she positively glistened like a star! It was a frosty
+kind of brightness, too like that of an icicle in the moonlight. The
+wife thought it strange that good Mr. Lindsey should see nothing
+remarkable in the snow-child's appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, you odd little thing!&quot; cried the honest man, seizing her by
+the hand, &quot;I have caught you at last, and will make you comfortable in
+spite of yourself. We will put a nice warm pair of worsted stockings
+on your frozen little feet, and you shall have a good thick shawl to
+wrap yourself in. Your poor white nose, I am afraid, is actually
+frost-bitten. But we will make it all right. Come along in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so, with a most benevolent smile on his sagacious visage, all
+purple as it was with the cold, this very well-meaning gentleman took
+the snow-child by the hand and led her towards the house. She followed
+him, droopingly and reluctant; for all the glow and sparkle was gone
+out of her figure; and whereas just before she had resembled a bright
+frosty, star-gemmed evening, with a crimson gleam on the cold horizon,
+she now looked as dull and languid as a thaw. As kind Mr. Lindsey led
+her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony looked into his
+face&mdash;their eyes full of tears, which froze before they could run down
+their cheeks&mdash;and again entreated him not to bring their snow-image
+into the house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not bring her in!&quot; exclaimed the kind-hearted man. &quot;Why, you are
+crazy, my little Violet!&mdash;quite crazy, my small Peony! She is so cold,
+already, that her hand has almost frozen mine, in spite of my thick
+gloves. Would you have her freeze to death?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His wife, as he came up the steps, had been taking another long,
+earnest, almost awe-stricken gaze at the little white stranger. She
+hardly knew whether it was a dream or not, but she could not help
+fancying that she saw the delicate print of Violet's fingers on the
+child's neck. It looked just as if, while Violet was shaping out the
+image, she had given it a gentle pat with her hand, and had neglected
+to smooth the impression quite away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After all, husband,&quot; said the mother, recurring to her idea that the
+angels would be as much delighted to play with Violet and Peony as she
+herself was&mdash;&quot;after all, she does look strangely like a snow-image! I
+do believe she is made of snow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A puff of the west-wind blew against the snow-child, and again she
+sparkled like a star.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Snow!&quot; repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest over
+this hospitable threshold. &quot;No wonder she looks like snow. She is half
+frozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to
+rights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Without further talk, and always with the same best intentions, this
+highly benevolent and common-sensible individual led the little white
+damsel&mdash;drooping, drooping, drooping, more and more&mdash;out of the frosty
+air, and into his comfortable parlour. A Heidenberg stove, filled to
+the brim with intensely burning anthracite, was sending a bright gleam
+through the isinglass of its iron door, and causing the vase of water
+on its top to fume and bubble with excitement. A warm, sultry smell
+was diffused throughout the room. A thermometer on the wall farthest
+from the stove stood at eighty degrees. The parlour was hung with red
+curtains, and covered with a red carpet, and looked just as warm as it
+felt. The difference betwixt the atmosphere here and the cold, wintry
+twilight out of doors, was like stepping at once from Nova Zembla to
+the hottest part of India, or from the North Pole into an oven. O,
+this was a fine place for the little white stranger!</p>
+
+<p>The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearth-rug, right
+in front of the hissing and fuming stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now she will be comfortable!&quot; cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands
+and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. &quot;Make
+yourself at home, my child.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sad, sad and drooping, looked the little white maiden, as she stood
+on the hearth-rug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through
+her like a pestilence. Once, she threw a glance wistfully toward the
+windows, and caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the
+snow-covered roofs, and the stars glimmering frostily, and all the
+delicious intensity of the cold night. The bleak wind rattled the
+window-panes, as if it were summoning her to come forth. But there
+stood the snow-child, drooping, before the hot stove!</p>
+
+<p>But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, wife,&quot; said he, &quot;let her have a pair of thick stockings and a
+woollen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm
+supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your
+little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a
+strange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbours, and
+find out where she belongs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother, meanwhile, had gone in search of the shawl and stockings;
+for her own view of the matter, however subtle and delicate, had given
+way, as it always did, to the stubborn materialism of her husband.
+Without heeding the remonstrances of his two children, who still kept
+murmuring that their little snow-sister did not love the warmth, good
+Mr. Lindsey took his departure, shutting the parlour-door carefully
+behind him. Turning up the collar of his sack over his ears, he
+emerged from the house, and had barely reached the street-gate when he
+was recalled by the screams of Violet and Peony, and the rapping of a
+thimbled finger against the parlour window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Husband! husband!&quot; cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken face
+through the window-panes. &quot;There is no need of going for the child's
+parents!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We told you so, father!&quot; screamed Violet and Peony, as he re-entered
+the parlour. &quot;You would bring her in; and now our
+poor&mdash;dear&mdash;beau-ti-ful little snow-sister is thawed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears; so
+that their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen in
+this every-day world, felt not a little anxious lest his children
+might be going to thaw too! In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an
+explanation of his wife. She could only reply, that, being summoned to
+the parlour by the cries of Violet and Peony, she found no trace of
+the little white maiden, unless it were the remains of a heap of snow,
+which, while she was gazing at it, melted quite away upon the
+hearth-rug.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And there you see all that is left of it!&quot; added she, pointing to a
+pool of water, in front of the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, father,&quot; said Violet, looking reproachfully at him, through her
+tears, &quot;there is all that is left of our dear little snow-sister!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Naughty father!&quot; cried Peony, stamping his foot, and&mdash;I shudder to
+say&mdash;shaking his little fist at the common-sensible man. &quot;We told you
+how it would be! What for did you bring her in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the Heidenberg stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to
+glare at good Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon, triumphing in the
+mischief which it had done!</p>
+
+<p>This, you will observe, was one of those rare cases, which yet will
+occasionally happen, where common-sense finds itself at fault. The
+remarkable story of the snow-image, though to that sagacious class of
+people to whom good Mr. Lindsey belongs it may seem but a childish
+affair, is, nevertheless, capable of being moralised in various
+methods, greatly for their edification. One of its lessons, for
+instance, might be that it behooves men, and especially men of
+benevolence, to consider well what they are about, and, before acting
+on their philanthropic purposes, to be quite sure that they comprehend
+the nature and all the relations of the business in hand. What has
+been established as an element of good to one being may prove absolute
+mischief to another; even as the warmth of the parlour was proper
+enough for children of flesh and blood, like Violet and Peony&mdash;though
+by no means very wholesome, even for them&mdash;involved nothing short of
+annihilation to the unfortunate snow-image.</p>
+
+<p>But, after all, there is no teaching anything to wise men of good Mr.
+Lindsey's stamp. They know everything&mdash;O, to be sure!&mdash;everything that
+has been, and everything that is, and everything that, by any future
+possibility, can be. And should some phenomenon of nature or
+providence transcend their system, they will not recognise it, even if
+it come to pass under their very noses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wife,&quot; said Mr. Lindsey, after a fit of silence, &quot;see what a quantity
+of snow the children have brought in on their feet! It has made quite
+a puddle here before the stove. Pray tell Dora to bring some towels
+and sop it up!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV">IV</a></h2>
+
+<h2>UNDINE</h2>
+
+
+<h4>I.&mdash;HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE</h4>
+
+<p>Once&mdash;it may be some hundreds of years ago&mdash;there lived a good old
+Fisherman, who, on a fine summer's evening, was sitting before the
+door mending his nets. He dwelt in a land of exceeding beauty. The
+green slope, upon which he had built his hut, stretched far out into a
+great lake; and it seemed either that the cape, enamoured of the
+glassy blue waters, had pressed forward into their bosom, or that the
+lake had lovingly folded in its arms the blooming promontory, with her
+waving grass and flowers, and the refreshing shade of her tall trees.
+Each bade the other welcome, and increased its own beauty by so doing.
+This lovely nook was scarcely ever visited by mankind, except by the
+Fisherman and his family. For behind the promontory lay a very wild
+forest, which, beside being gloomy and pathless, had too bad a name as
+the resort of wondrous spirits and goblins, to be crossed by anyone
+who could help it. Yet the pious old Fisherman went through it without
+being molested, whenever he walked to a large city beyond the forest,
+to dispose of the costly fish that he caught in the lake. For him,
+indeed, there was little danger, even in that forest; for his thoughts
+were almost all thoughts of devotion, and his custom was to carol
+forth to Heaven a loud and heartfelt hymn, on first setting foot
+within the treacherous shades.</p>
+
+<p>As he sat this evening most peacefully over his nets, he was startled
+in an unwonted manner by a rustling sound in the forest, like that of
+a man and horse; and the noise came nearer and nearer. The dreams he
+had had in many a stormy night of the spirits of the forest started up
+before his mind, particularly the image of a gigantic long snow-white
+man, who kept nodding his head mysteriously. Nay, as he raised his
+eyes and looked into the forest, he could fancy he saw, through the
+thick screen of leaves, the nodding creature advance toward him. But
+he soon composed himself, recollecting that even in the heart of the
+woods nothing had ever befallen him; much less here, in the open air,
+could the bad spirits have power to touch him. He moreover repeated a
+text from the Bible aloud and earnestly, which quite restored his
+courage, and he almost laughed to see how his fancy had misled him.
+The white nodding man suddenly resolved himself into a little brook he
+knew of old, which gushed bubbling out of the wood, and emptied itself
+into the lake. And the rustling had been caused by a horseman in
+gorgeous attire, who now came forward toward the hut from beneath the
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>He wore a scarlet mantle over his purple, gold-embroidered jerkin; a
+plume of red and purple feathers waved over his gold-coloured
+barret-cap; and from his golden belt hung a glittering jewelled sword.
+The white courser which carried him was of lighter make than the
+generality of chargers, and trod so airily, that the enamelled turf
+seemed scarcely to bend under him. The aged Fisherman could not quite
+shake off his uneasiness, although he told himself that so noble a
+guest could bring him no harm, and accordingly doffed his hat
+courteously, and interrupted his work when he approached.</p>
+
+<p>The Knight reined in his horse, and asked whether they could both
+obtain one night's shelter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As to your horse, good sir,&quot; answered the Fisherman, &quot;I have no
+better stable to offer him than the shady meadow, and no provender
+but the grass which grows upon it. But you shall yourself be heartily
+welcome to my poor house, and to the best of my supper and night
+lodging.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger seemed quite content; he dismounted, and they helped each
+other to take off the horse's girth and saddle, after which the Knight
+let him graze on the flowery pasture, saying to his host, &quot;Even if I
+had found you less kind and hospitable, my good old man, you must have
+borne with me till to-morrow; for I see we are shut in by a wide lake
+and Heaven forbid that I should cross the haunted forest again at
+nightfall!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will not say much about that,&quot; replied the Fisherman; and he led
+his guest into the cottage.</p>
+
+<p>There, close by the hearth, from whence a scanty fire shed its
+glimmering light over the clean little room, sat the Fisherman's old
+wife. When their noble guest came in, she rose to give him a kind
+welcome, but immediately resumed her place of honour, without offering
+it to him; and the Fisherman said with a smile: &quot;Do not take it amiss,
+young sir, if she does not give up to you the most comfortable place;
+it is the custom among us poor people that it should always belong to
+the oldest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, husband!&quot; said his wife, quietly, &quot;what are you thinking of? Our
+guest is surely a Christian gentleman, and how could it come into his
+kind young heart to turn old people out of their places? Sit down, my
+young lord,&quot; added she, turning to the Knight; &quot;there stands a very
+comfortable chair for you; only remember it must not be too roughly
+handled, for one leg is not so steady as it has been.&quot; The Knight drew
+the chair carefully forward, seated himself sociably, and soon felt
+quite at home in this little household, and as if he had just returned
+to it from a far journey.</p>
+
+<p>The three friends began to converse openly and familiarly together.
+First the Knight asked a few questions about the forest, but the old
+man would not say much of that; least of all, said he, was it fitting
+to talk of such things at nightfall; but, on household concerns, and
+their own way of life, the old folks talked readily; and were pleased
+when the Knight told them of his travels, and that he had a castle
+near the source of the Danube, and that his name was Lord Huldbrand of
+Ringstetten. In the middle of their discourse, the stranger often
+observed a noise outside a small window, as if someone were dashing
+water against it. The old man knit his brows and looked grave whenever
+this occurred; at last, when a great splash of water came full against
+the panes, and some found its way into the room, he could bear it no
+longer, but started up, crying, &quot;Undine! will you never leave off
+these childish tricks&mdash;when we have a stranger gentleman in the house
+too!&quot; This produced silence outside, all but a sound of suppressed
+giggling, and the Fisherman said as he came back; &quot;My honoured guest,
+you must put up with this, and perhaps with many another piece of
+mischief; but she means no harm. It is our adopted child Undine; there
+is no breaking her of her childish ways, though she is eighteen years
+old now. But as I told you she is as good a child as ever lived at
+bottom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, so you may say!&quot; rejoined his wife, shaking her head. &quot;When you
+come home from fishing, or from a journey, her playful nonsense may be
+pleasant enough. But, to be keeping her out of mischief all day long,
+as I must do, and never get a word of sense from her, nor a bit of
+help and comfort in my old age, is enough to weary the patience of a
+saint.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, well,&quot; said the good man, &quot;you feel toward Undine as I do
+toward the lake. Though its waves are apt enough to burst my banks
+and my nets, yet I love them for all that, and so do you love our
+pretty wench, with all her plaguey tricks. Don't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, one cannot be really angry with her, to be sure,&quot; said the dame,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Here the door flew open, and a beautiful fair creature tripped in, and
+said, playfully: &quot;Well, father, you made game of me; where is your
+guest?&quot; The next moment she perceived the Knight, and stood fixed in
+mute admiration; while Huldbrand gazed upon her lovely form, and tried
+to impress her image on his mind, thinking that he must avail himself
+of her amazement to do so, and that in a moment she would shrink away
+in a fit of bashfulness. But it proved otherwise. After looking at him
+a good while, she came up to him familiarly, knelt down beside him,
+and playing with a golden medal that hung from his rich chain, she
+said: &quot;So, thou kind, thou beautiful guest! hast thou found us out in
+our poor hut at last? Why didst thou roam the world so many years
+without coming near us? Art come through the wild forest, my handsome
+friend?&quot; The old woman allowed him no time to answer. She desired her
+to get up instantly, like a modest girl, and to set about her work.
+But Undine, without replying, fetched a footstool and put it close to
+Huldbrand's chair, sat down there with her spinning, and said
+cheerfully&mdash;&quot;I will sit and work here.&quot; The old man behaved as parents
+are apt to do with spoiled children. He pretended not to see Undine's
+waywardness, and was beginning to talk of something else; but she
+would not let him. She said, &quot;I asked our visitor where he came from,
+and he has not answered me yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From the forest I came, you beautiful sprite,&quot; answered Huldbrand;
+and she continued:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you must tell me how you came there, and what wonderful
+adventures you had in it, for I know that nobody can escape without
+some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand could not help shuddering on being reminded of his
+adventures, and involuntarily glanced at the window, half expecting to
+see one of the strange beings he had encountered in the forest
+grinning at him through it; but nothing was to be seen except the deep
+black night, which had now closed in. He recollected himself, and was
+just beginning his narrative, when the old man interposed: &quot;Not just
+now, Sir Knight; this is no time for such tales.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Undine jumped up passionately, put her beautiful arms akimbo, and
+standing before the Fisherman, exclaimed: &quot;What! may not he tell his
+story, father&mdash;may not he? But I will have it; he must. He shall
+indeed!&quot; And she stamped angrily with her pretty feet, but it was all
+done in so comical and graceful a manner, that Huldbrand thought her
+still more bewitching in her wrath, than in her playful mood.</p>
+
+<p>Not so the old man; his long-restrained anger burst out uncontrolled.
+He scolded Undine smartly for her disobedience, and unmannerly conduct
+to the stranger, his wife chiming in.</p>
+
+<p>Undine then said: &quot;Very well, if you will be quarrelsome and not let
+me have my own way, you may sleep alone in your smoky old hut!&quot; and
+she shot through the door like an arrow, and rushed into the dark
+night.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.&mdash;HOW UNDINE FIRST CAME TO THE FISHERMAN</h4>
+
+<p>Huldbrand and the Fisherman sprang from their seats, and tried to
+catch the angry maiden; but before they could reach the house door,
+Undine had vanished far into the thick shades, and not a sound of her
+light footsteps was to be heard, by which to track her course.
+Huldbrand looked doubtfully at his host; he almost thought that the
+whole fair vision which had so suddenly plunged into the night, must
+be a continuation of the phantom play which had whirled around him in
+his passage through the forest. But the old man mumbled through his
+teeth: &quot;It is not the first time she has served us so. And here are
+we, left in our anxiety with a sleepless night before us; for who can
+tell what harm may befall her, all alone out-of-doors till daybreak?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then let us be after her, good father, for God's sake!&quot; cried
+Huldbrand eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>The old man replied, &quot;Where would be the use? It were a sin to let you
+set off alone in pursuit of the foolish girl, and my old legs would
+never overtake such a Will-with-the-wisp&mdash;even if we could guess which
+way she is gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At least let us call her, and beg her to come back,&quot; said Huldbrand;
+and he began calling after her in most moving tones: &quot;Undine! O
+Undine, do return!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old man shook his head, and said that all the shouting in the
+world would do no good with such a wilful little thing. But yet he
+could not himself help calling out from time to time in the darkness:
+&quot;Undine! ah, sweet Undine! I entreat thee, come back this once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Fisherman's words proved true. Nothing was to be seen or heard of
+Undine; and as her foster-father would by no means suffer Huldbrand to
+pursue her, they had nothing for it but to go in again. They found the
+fire on the hearth nearly burnt out, and the dame, who did not take to
+heart Undine's flight and danger so much as her husband, was gone to
+bed. The old man blew the coals, laid on dry wood, and by the light of
+the reviving flames he found a flagon of wine, which he put between
+himself and his guest. &quot;You are uneasy about that silly wench, Sir
+Knight,&quot; said he, &quot;and we had better kill part of the night chatting
+and drinking, than toss about in our beds, trying to sleep in vain.
+Had not we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand agreed; the Fisherman made him sit in his wife's empty
+arm-chair, and they both drank and talked together, as a couple of
+worthy friends should do. Whenever, indeed, there was the least stir
+outside the window, or even sometimes without any, one of them would
+look up and say, &quot;There she comes.&quot; Then they would keep silence for a
+few moments, and as nothing came, resume their conversation, with a
+shake of the head and a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>But as neither could think of much beside Undine, the best means they
+could devise for beguiling the time was, that the Fisherman should
+relate, and the Knight listen to, the history of her first coming to
+the cottage. He began as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One day, some fifteen years ago, I was carrying my fish through that
+dreary wood to the town. My wife stayed at home, as usual; and at that
+time she had a good and pretty reason for it&mdash;the Lord had bestowed
+upon us (old as we already were) a lovely babe. It was a girl; and so
+anxious were we to do our best for the little treasure, that we began
+to talk of leaving our beautiful home, in order to give our darling a
+good education among other human beings. With us poor folks, wishing
+is one thing, and doing is quite another, Sir Knight; but what then?
+we can only try our best. Well then, as I plodded on, I turned over
+the scheme in my head. I was loath to leave our own dear nook, and it
+made me shudder to think, in the din and brawls of the town, 'So it is
+here we shall soon live, or in some place nearly as bad!' Yet I never
+murmured against our good God, but rather thanked Him in secret for
+His last blessing; nor can I say that I met with anything
+extraordinary in the forest, either coming or going; indeed nothing to
+frighten me has ever crossed my path. The Lord was ever with me in the
+awful shades.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here he uncovered his bald head, and sat for a time in silent prayer;
+then putting his cap on again, he continued: &quot;On this side of the wood
+it was&mdash;on this side, that the sad news met me. My wife came toward me
+with eyes streaming like two fountains; she was in deep mourning. 'Oh,
+good Heaven!' I called out, 'where is our dear child? Tell me?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Gone, dear husband,' she replied; and we went into our cottage
+together, weeping silently. I looked for the little corpse, and then
+first heard how it had happened. My wife had been sitting on the shore
+with the child, and playing with it, all peace and happiness; when the
+babe all at once leaned over, as if she saw something most beautiful
+in the water; there she sat smiling, sweet angel! and stretching out
+her little hands; but the next moment she darted suddenly out of her
+arms, and down into the smooth waters. I made much search for the poor
+little corpse; but in vain; not a trace of her could I find.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When evening was come, we childless parents were sitting together in
+the hut, silent; neither of us had a mind to speak, even if the tears
+had let us. We were looking idly into the fire. Just then something
+made a noise at the door. It opened, and a beautiful little maid, of
+three or four years' old stood there gaily dressed, and smiling in our
+faces. We were struck dumb with surprise, and at first hardly knew if
+she were a little human being, or only an empty shadow. But I soon saw
+that her golden hair and gay clothes were dripping wet, and it struck
+me the little fairy must have been in the water and distressed for
+help. 'Wife,' said I, 'our dear child had no friend to save her; shall
+we not do for others what would have made our remaining days so happy,
+if anyone had done it for us?' We undressed the child, put her to bed,
+and gave her a warm drink, while she never said a word, but kept
+smiling at us with her sky-blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The next morning we found she had done herself no harm; and I asked
+her who were her parents, and what had brought her here; but she gave
+me a strange, confused answer. I am sure she must have been born far
+away, for these fifteen years have we kept her, without ever finding
+out where she came from; and besides, she is apt to let drop such
+marvellous things in her talk, that you might think she had lived in
+the moon. She will speak of golden castles, of crystal roofs, and I
+can't tell what beside. The only thing she has told us clearly, is,
+that as she was sailing on the lake with her mother, she fell into the
+water, and when she recovered her senses found herself lying under
+these trees, in safety and comfort, upon our pretty shore.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So now we had a serious, anxious charge thrown upon us. To keep
+and bring up the foundling, instead of our poor drowned child&mdash;that
+was soon resolved upon but who should tell us if she had yet been
+baptised or no? She knew how not how to answer the question. That she
+was one of God's creatures, made for His glory and service, that much
+she knew; and anything that would glorify and please Him, she was
+willing to have done. So my wife and I said to each other: 'If she has
+never been baptised, there is no doubt it should be done; and if she
+was, better do too much than too little, in a matter of such
+consequence.' We therefore began to seek a good name for the child.
+Dorothea seemed to us the best; for I had once heard that meant God's
+gift; and she had indeed been sent us by Him as a special blessing, to
+comfort us in our misery. But she would not hear of that name. She
+said Undine was what her parents used to call her, and Undine she
+would still be. That, I thought, sounded like a heathen name, and
+occurred in no Calendar; and I took counsel with a priest in the town
+about it. He also objected to the name Undine; and at my earnest
+request, came home with me, through the dark forest, in order to
+baptise her. The little creature stood before us, looking so gay and
+charming in her holiday clothes, that the priest's heart warmed toward
+her; and what with coaxing and wilfulness, she got the better of him,
+so that he clean forgot all the objections he had thought of to the
+name Undine. She was therefore so christened and behaved particularly
+well and decently during the sacred rite, wild and unruly as she had
+always been before. For, what my wife said just now was too true&mdash;we
+have indeed found her the wildest little fairy! If I were to tell you
+all&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the Knight interrupted the Fisherman, to call his attention to a
+sound of roaring waters, which he had noticed already in the pauses of
+the old man's speech, and which now rose in fury as it rushed past the
+windows. They both ran to the door. By the light of the newly risen
+moon, they saw the brook which gushed out of the forest breaking
+wildly over its banks, and whirling along stones and branches in its
+eddying course. A storm, as if awakened by the uproar, burst from the
+heavy clouds that were chasing each other across the moon; the lake
+howled under the wings of the wind; the trees on the shore groaned
+from top to bottom, and bowed themselves over the rushing waters.
+&quot;Undine! for God's sake, Undine!&quot; cried the Knight, and the old man.
+No answer was to be heard; and, heedless now of any danger to
+themselves, they ran off in different directions, calling her in
+frantic anxiety.</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.&mdash;HOW THEY FOUND UNDINE AGAIN</h4>
+
+<p>The longer Huldbrand wandered in vain pursuit of Undine, the more
+bewildered he became. The idea that she might be a mere spirit of the
+woods, sometimes returned upon him with double force; nay, amid the
+howling waves and storm, the groaning of trees, and the wild commotion
+of the once-peaceful spot, he might have fancied the whole promontory,
+its hut and its inhabitants, to be a delusion of magic, but that he
+still heard in the distance the Fisherman's piteous cries of &quot;Undine!&quot;
+and the old housewife's loud prayers and hymns, above the whistling of
+the blast.</p>
+
+<p>At last he found himself on the margin of the overflowing stream, and
+saw it by the moonlight rushing violently along, close to the edge of
+the mysterious forest so as to make an island of the peninsula on
+which he stood. &quot;Gracious Heaven!&quot; thought he, &quot;Undine may have
+ventured a step or two into that awful forest&mdash;perhaps in her pretty
+waywardness, just because I would not tell her my story&mdash;and the
+swollen stream has cut her off, and left her weeping alone among the
+spectres!&quot; A cry of terror escaped him, and he clambered down the bank
+by means of some stones and fallen trees, hoping to wade or swim
+across the flood, and seek the fugitive beyond it. Fearful and
+unearthly visions did indeed float before him, like those he had met
+with in the morning, beneath these groaning, tossing branches.
+Especially he was haunted by the appearance of a tall white man, whom
+he remembered but too well, grinning and nodding at him from the
+opposite bank; however, the thought of these grim monsters did but
+urge him onward as he recollected Undine, now perhaps in deadly fear
+among them, and alone.</p>
+
+<p>He had laid hold of a stout pine branch, and leaning on it, was
+standing in the eddy, though scarcely able to stem it, but he stepped
+boldly forward&mdash;when a sweet voice exclaimed close behind him: &quot;Trust
+him not&mdash;trust not! The old fellow is tricksy&mdash;the stream!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Well he knew those silver tones: the moon was just disappearing behind
+a cloud, and he stood amid the deepening shades, made dizzy as the
+water shot by him with the speed of an arrow. Yet he would not desist.
+&quot;And if thou art not truly there, if thou flittest before me an empty
+shadow, I care not to live; I will melt into air like thee, my beloved
+Undine!&quot; This he cried aloud, and strode further into the flood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look round then&mdash;look round, fair youth!&quot; he heard just behind him,
+and looking round, he beheld by the returning moonbeams, on a fair
+island left by the flood, under some thickly interlaced branches,
+Undine all smiles and loveliness, nestling in the flowery grass. How
+much more joyfully than before did the young man use his pine staff to
+cross the waters! A few strides brought him through the flood that had
+parted them; and he found himself at her side, on the nook of soft
+grass, securely sheltered under the shade of the old trees. Undine
+half arose, and twined her arms round his neck in the green arbour,
+making him sit down by her on the turf. &quot;Here you shall tell me all,
+my own friend,&quot; said she in a low whisper; &quot;the cross old folks cannot
+overhear us. And our pretty bower of leaves is well worth their
+wretched hut.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is heaven!&quot; cried Huldbrand, as he clasped in his arms the
+beautiful flatterer.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the old man had reached the banks of the stream, and he
+called out: &quot;So, Sir Knight, when I had made you welcome, as one
+honest man should another, here are you making love to my adopted
+child&mdash;to say nothing of your leaving me to seek her, alone and
+terrified, all night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have but this moment found her, old man!&quot; cried the Knight in
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I am glad of that,&quot; said the Fisherman; &quot;now then bring her
+back to me at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Undine would not hear of it. She had rather she said, go quite
+away into the wild woods with the handsome stranger, than return to
+the hut, where she had never had her own way, and which the Knight
+must sooner or later leave. Embracing Huldbrand, she sang with
+peculiar charm and grace:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;From misty cave the mountain wave<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Leapt out and sought the main!<br /></span>
+<span>The Ocean's foam she made her home,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And ne'er returned again.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The old man wept bitterly as she sang, but this did not seem to move
+her. She continued to caress her lover, till at length he said:
+&quot;Undine, the poor old man's grief goes to my heart if not to yours.
+Let us go back to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Astonished, she raised her large blue eyes toward him, and after a
+pause answered slowly and reluctantly: &quot;To please you, I will:
+whatever you like pleases me too. But the old man yonder must first
+promise me that he will let you tell me all you saw in the forest, and
+the rest we shall see about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only come back&mdash;do come!&quot; cried the Fisherman, and not another word
+could he say. At the same moment he stretched his arms over the stream
+toward her, and nodded his head by way of giving her the desired
+promise; and as his white hair fell over his face, it gave him a
+strange look, and reminded Huldbrand involuntarily of the nodding
+white man in the woods. Determined, however, that nothing should stop
+him, the young Knight took the fair damsel in his arms, and carried
+her through the short space of foaming flood, which divided the island
+from the mainland. The old man fell upon Undine's neck, and rejoiced,
+and kissed her in the fulness of his heart; his aged wife also came
+up, and welcomed their recovered child most warmly. All reproaches
+were forgotten; the more so, as Undine seemed to have left her
+sauciness behind, and overwhelmed her foster parents with kind words
+and caresses.</p>
+
+<p>When these transports of joy had subsided, and they began to look
+about them, the rosy dawn was just shedding its glow over the lake,
+the storm had ceased, and the birds were singing merrily on the wet
+branches. As Undine insisted upon hearing the story of the Knight's
+adventure, both the old folks cheerfully indulged her. Breakfast was
+set out under the trees between the cottage and the lake, and they sat
+down before it with glad hearts, Undine placing herself resolutely on
+the grass at the Knight's feet. Huldbrand began his narrative as
+follows.</p>
+
+
+<h4>IV.&mdash;OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE KNIGHT IN THE FOREST</h4>
+
+<p>&quot;About eight days ago, I rode into the imperial city beyond this
+forest. A grand tournament and tilting was held there, and I spared
+neither lance nor steed. As I stood still a moment to rest myself, in
+a pause of the noble game, and had just given my helmet in charge to a
+squire, my eye fell upon a most beautiful woman, who stood, richly
+adorned, in one of the galleries, looking on. I inquired her name,
+and found that this charming lady was Bertalda, the adopted daughter
+of one of the principal lords in the neighbourhood. I observed that
+her eye was upon me too, and as is the way with us young knights, I
+had not been slack before, but I now fought more bravely still. That
+evening I was Bertalda's partner in the dance, and so I was again
+every evening during the jousting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here a sudden pain in his left hand, which hung beside him, checked
+the Knight in his tale, and he looked at his hand. Undine's pearly
+teeth had bitten one of his fingers sharply, and she looked very black
+at him. But the next moment that look changed into an expression of
+tender sadness, and she whispered low: &quot;So you are faithless too!&quot;
+Then she hid her face in her hands, and the Knight proceeded with his
+tale, although staggered and perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That Bertalda is a high-spirited, extraordinary maid. On the second
+day she charmed me far less than the first, and on the third, less
+still. But I remained with her, because she was more gracious to me
+than to any other knight, and so it fell out that I asked her in jest
+for one of her gloves. 'You shall have it,' said she, 'if you will
+visit the haunted forest alone, and bring me an account of it.' It was
+not that I cared much for her glove, but the words had been spoken,
+and a knight that loves his fame does not wait to be twice urged to
+such a feat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought she had loved you,&quot; interrupted Undine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looked like it,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; cried the maiden, laughing, &quot;she must be a fool indeed! To
+drive <i>him</i> away whom she loves! and into a haunted forest besides!
+The forest and its mysteries might have waited long enough, for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I set out yesterday morning,&quot; continued the Knight, smiling kindly at
+Undine. &quot;The stems of the trees looked so bright in the morning
+sunshine, as it played upon the green turf, and the leaves whispered
+together so pleasantly, that I could not but laugh at those who
+imagined any evil to lurk in such a beautiful place. I shall very soon
+have ridden through it and back again, thought I, pushing on cheerily,
+and before I was aware of it, I found myself in the depths of its
+leafy shades, and the plains behind me far out of sight. It then
+occurred to me that I was likely enough to lose my way in this
+wilderness of trees, and that this might be the only real danger to
+which the traveller was here exposed. So I halted, and took notice of
+the course of the sun; it was now high in the heavens.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On looking up, I saw something black among the boughs of a tall oak.
+I took it for a bear, and seized my rifle; but it addressed me in a
+human voice, most hoarse and grating, saying: 'If I did not break off
+the twigs up here, what should we do to-night for fuel to roast you
+with, Sir Simpleton?' And he gnashed his teeth, and rattled the
+boughs, so as to startle my horse, which ran away with me before I
+could make out what kind of a devil it was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should not mention <i>his</i> name,&quot; said the Fisherman, crossing
+himself; his wife silently did the same, while Undine turned her
+beaming eyes upon her lover, and said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is safe now; it is well they did not really roast him. Go on,
+pretty youth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He continued: &quot;My terrified horse had almost dashed me against many a
+trunk and branch; he was running down with fright and heat, and yet
+there was no stopping him. At length he rushed madly toward the brink
+of a stony precipice; but here, as it seemed to me, a tall white man
+threw himself across the plunging animal's path, and made him start
+back, and stop. I then recovered the control of him, and found that,
+instead of a white man, my preserver was no other than a bright
+silvery brook, which gushed down from the hill beside me, checking and
+crossing my horse in his course.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks, dear brook!&quot; cried Undine, clapping her hands. But the old
+man shook his head, and seemed lost in thought.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Scarcely had I settled myself in the saddle, and got firm hold of my
+reins again,&quot; proceeded Huldbrand, &quot;when an extraordinary little man
+sprang up beside me, wizen and hideous beyond measure; he was of a
+yellow-brown hue, and his nose almost as big as the whole of his body.
+He grinned at me in the most fulsome way with his wide mouth, bowing
+and scraping every moment. As I could not abide these antics, I
+thanked him abruptly, pulled my still-trembling horse another way, and
+thought I would seek some other adventure, or perhaps go home; for
+during my wild gallop the sun had passed his meridian, and was now
+declining westward. But the little imp sprang round like lightning,
+and stood in front of my horse again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Make way!' cried I impatiently, 'the animal is unruly, and may run
+over you.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Oh,' snarled the imp, with a laugh more disgusting than before,
+'first give me a piece of coin for having caught your horse so nicely;
+but for me, you and your pretty beast would be lying in the pit down
+yonder: whew!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Only have done with your grimaces,' said I, 'and take your money
+along with you, though it is all a lie: look there, it was that honest
+brook that saved me, not you&mdash;you pitiful wretch!' So saying, I
+dropped a gold coin into his comical cap, which he held out toward me
+like a beggar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I trotted on, but he still followed, screaming, and, with
+inconceivable rapidity, whisked up to my side. I put my horse into a
+gallop; he kept pace with me, though with much difficulty, and twisted
+his body into various frightful and ridiculous attitudes, crying at
+each step as he held up the money: 'Bad coin! bad gold! bad gold! bad
+coin!' And this he shrieked in such a ghastly tone, that you would
+have expected him to drop down dead after each cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At last I stopped, much vexed, and asked, 'What do you want, with
+your shrieks? Take another gold coin; take two if you will, only let
+me alone.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He began his odious smirking again, and snarled, 'It's not gold, it's
+not gold that I want, young gentleman; I have rather more of that than
+I can use: you shall see.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All at once the surface of the ground became transparent; it looked
+like a smooth globe of green glass, and within it I saw a crowd of
+goblins at play with silver and gold. Tumbling about, head over heels
+they pelted each other in sport, making a toy of the precious metals,
+and powdering their faces with gold dust. My ugly companion stood half
+above, half below the surface; he made the others reach up to him
+quantities of gold, and showed it to me laughing, and then flung it
+into the fathomless depths beneath. He displayed the piece of gold I
+had given him to the goblins below, who held their sides with laughing
+and hissed at me in scorn. At length all their bony fingers pointed at
+me together; and louder and louder, closer and closer, wilder and
+wilder grew the turmoil, as it rose toward me, till not my horse only,
+but I myself was terrified; I put spurs into him, and cannot tell how
+long I may have scoured the forest this time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When at last I halted, the shades of evening had closed in. Through
+the branches I saw a white footpath gleaming and hoped it must be a
+road out of the forest to the town. I resolved to work my way thither;
+but lo! an indistinct, dead-white face, with ever-changing features,
+peeped at me through the leaves; I tried to avoid it, but wherever I
+went, there it was. Provoked, I attempted to push my horse against
+it; then it splashed us both over with white foam, and we turned away,
+blinded for the moment. So it drove us, step by step, further and
+further from the footpath, and indeed never letting us go on
+undisturbed but in one direction. While we kept to this, it was close
+upon our heels, but did not thwart us. Having looked round once or
+twice, I observed that the white foaming head was placed on a gigantic
+body, equally white. I sometimes doubted my first impression, and
+thought it merely a waterfall, but I never could satisfy myself that
+it was so. Wearily did my horse and I precede this active white
+pursuer, who often nodded at us, as if saying, 'That's right! that's
+right!' and it ended by our issuing from the wood here, where I
+rejoiced to see your lawn, the lake, and this cottage, and where the
+long white man vanished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank Heaven, he is gone,&quot; said the old man, and he then proceeded to
+consider how his guest could best return to his friends in the city.
+Upon this, Undine was heard to laugh in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand observed it, and said: &quot;I thought you had wished me to stay;
+and now you seem pleased when we talk of my going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because,&quot; replied Undine, &quot;you cannot get away. Only try to cross the
+swollen brook, in a boat, on horseback, or on foot. Or rather, do not
+try, for you would be dashed to pieces by the branches and stones that
+it hurls along. And as to the lake, I know how that is: father never
+ventures across it in his boat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand laughed, and got up to see whether she had spoken true; the
+old man went with him, and the maiden tripped along playfully by their
+side. They found she had told them no worse than the truth and the
+Knight resigned himself to staying in the island, as it might now be
+called till the floods had subsided. As they returned homeward, he
+whispered in his pretty companion's ear&mdash;&quot;Well, my little Undine! are
+you angry at my staying?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; said she sullenly, &quot;never mind. If I had not bitten you, who
+knows what might have come out in your story of Bertalda?&quot;</p>
+
+
+<h4>V.&mdash;OF THE LIFE WHICH THE KNIGHT LED ON THE ISLAND</h4>
+
+<p>Has it ever befallen thee, gentle reader, after many ups and downs in
+this troublesome world, to alight upon a spot where thou foundest
+rest; where the love which is born with us for fireside comfort and
+domestic peace, revived in thee; where thou couldst fancy thy early
+home with the blossoms of childhood, its pure, heartfelt affection,
+and the holy influence breathed from thy fathers' graves, to be
+restored to thee&mdash;and that it must indeed be &quot;good for thee to be
+here, and to build tabernacles?&quot; The charm may have been broken, the
+dream dispelled; but that has nothing to do with our present picture;
+nor wilt thou care to dwell on such bitter moments; but recall to mind
+that period of unspeakable peace, that foretaste of angelic rest which
+was granted thee, and thou wilt partly conceive what the Knight
+Huldbrand felt, while he lived on the promontory. Often, with secret
+satisfaction, did he mark the forest stream rolling by more wildly
+every day; its bed became wider and wider, and he felt the period of
+his seclusion from the world must be still prolonged. Having found an
+old crossbow in a corner of the cottage, and mended it, he spent part
+of his days roving about, waylaying the birds that flew by, and
+bringing whatever he killed to the kitchen, as rare game. When he came
+back laden with spoil, Undine would often scold him for taking the
+life of the dear little joyous creatures, soaring in the blue depths
+of Heaven; she would even weep bitterly over the dead birds. But if he
+came home empty-handed, she found fault with his awkwardness and
+laziness, which obliged them to be content with fish and crabs for
+dinner. Either way, he took delight in her pretty fits of anger; the
+more so as she rarely failed to make up for them by the fondest
+caresses afterwards. The old folks, having been in the young people's
+confidence from the first, unconsciously looked upon them as a
+betrothed or even married pair, shut out from the world with them in
+this retreat, and bestowed upon them for comforts in their old age.
+And this very seclusion helped to make the young Knight feel as if he
+were already Undine's bridegroom. It seemed to him that the whole
+world was contained within the surrounding waters, or at any rate,
+that he could never more cross that charmed boundary, and rejoin other
+human beings. And if at times the neighing of his steed reminded him
+of former feats of chivalry, and seemed to ask for more; if his coat
+of arms, embroidered on the saddle and trappings, caught his eye; or
+if his good sword fell from the nail on which he had hung it and
+slipped out of its scabbard, he would silence the misgivings that
+arose, by thinking, Undine is not a fisherman's daughter, but most
+likely sprung from some highly noble family in distant lands. The only
+thing that ever ruffled him, was to hear the old woman scolding
+Undine. The wayward girl only laughed at her; but to him it seemed as
+if his own honour were touched; and yet he could not blame the good
+wife, for Undine mostly deserved ten times worse than she got,
+therefore he still felt kindly toward the old dame, and these little
+rubs scarcely disturbed the even current of their lives.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, a grievance did arise. The Knight and the
+Fisherman were in the habit of sitting cheerfully over a flask of
+wine, both at noon, and also at eventide while the wind whistled
+around, as it generally did at night. But they had now exhausted the
+whole stock which the Fisherman had, long since, brought from the town
+with him and they both missed it sadly. Undine laughed at them all day
+for it, but they could not join in her mirth as heartily as usual.
+Toward evening she left the cottage, saying she could no longer bear
+such long dismal faces. As the twilight looked stormy, and the waters
+were beginning to moan and heave, the Knight and the old man ran out
+anxiously to fetch her back, remembering the agony of that night when
+Huldbrand first came to the cottage. But they were met by Undine,
+clapping her hands merrily. &quot;What will you give me if I get you some
+wine? But, indeed, I want no reward for it,&quot; she added; &quot;I shall be
+satisfied if you will but look brighter, and find more to say than you
+have done all these tedious mornings. Come along; the floods have
+washed a barrel ashore, and I will engage to sleep a whole week
+through if it is not a barrel of wine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The men both followed her to a shady creek, and there found a barrel,
+which did look as if it contained the generous liquor which they
+longed for. They rolled it toward the hut as fast as they could, for a
+heavy storm seemed stalking across the sky, and there was light enough
+left to show them the waves of the lake tossing up their foaming
+heads, as if looking out for the rain which would soon pour down upon
+them. Undine lent a hand in the work, and presently, when the shower
+threatened to break instantly over their heads, she spoke to the big
+clouds in playful defiance: &quot;You, you there! mind you do not give us a
+drenching; we are some way from home yet.&quot; The old man admonished her
+that this was sinful presumption, but she laughed slyly to herself,
+and no harm came of it. Beyond their hopes, they all three reached the
+comfortable fireside with their prize, unhurt; and it was not till
+they had opened the barrel, and found it to contain excellent wine,
+that the rain broke from the heavy clouds in torrents, and they heard
+the storm roaring among the trees, and over the lake's heaving
+billows.</p>
+
+<p>A few bottles were soon filled from the great barrel, enough to last
+them several days; and they sat sipping and chatting over the bright
+fire, secure from the raging tempest. But the old man's heart
+presently smote him. &quot;Dear me,&quot; said he, &quot;here are we making merry
+over the blessing of Providence, while the owner of it has perhaps
+been carried away by the flood, and lost his life!&quot;&mdash;&quot;No, that he has
+not,&quot; said Undine, smiling; and she filled the Knight's glass again.
+He replied, &quot;I give you my word, good father, that if I knew how to
+find and save him, no danger should deter me; I would not shrink from
+setting out in this darkness. This much I promise you, if ever I set
+foot in an inhabited country again, I will make inquiry after him or
+his heirs, and restore to them twice or three times the value of the
+wine.&quot; This pleased the old man, he gave an approving nod to the
+Knight, and drained his glass with a better conscience and a lighter
+heart. But Undine said to Huldbrand, &quot;Do as you like with your money,
+you may make what compensation you please; but as to setting out and
+wandering after him, that was hastily said. I should cry my heart out
+if we chanced to lose you; and had not you rather stay with me and
+with the good wine?&quot; &quot;Why, yes!&quot; said Huldbrand, laughing. &quot;Well
+then,&quot; rejoined Undine, &quot;it was a foolish thing you talked of doing;
+charity begins at home, you know.&quot; The old woman turned away, shaking
+her head and sighing; her husband forgot his usual indulgence for the
+pretty lassie, and reproved her sharply. &quot;One would think,&quot; said he,
+&quot;you had been reared by Turks and heathens; God forgive you and us,
+you perverse child.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Ay but it <i>is</i> my way of thinking,&quot; pursued
+Undine, &quot;whoever has reared me, so what is the use of your
+talking?&quot;&mdash;&quot;Peace!&quot; cried the Fisherman; and she, who with all her
+wildness was sometimes cowed in a moment, clung trembling to
+Huldbrand, and whispered, &quot;And are you angry with me, dear friend?&quot;
+The Knight pressed her soft hand, and stroked down her ringlets. Not a
+word could he say; his distress at the old man's harshness toward
+Undine had sealed his lips; and so each couple remained sitting
+opposite the other, in moody silence and constraint.</p>
+
+
+<h4>VI.&mdash;OF A BRIDAL</h4>
+
+<p>A gentle tap at the door broke the silence, and made them all start:
+it sometimes happens that a mere trifle, coming quite unexpectedly,
+strikes the senses with terror. They looked at each other hesitating;
+the tap was repeated, accompanied by a deep groan, and the Knight
+grasped his sword. But the old man muttered, &quot;If it is what I fear, it
+is not a sword that will help us!&quot; Undine, however, stepped forward to
+the door, and said boldly and sharply, &quot;If you are after any mischief,
+you spirits of earth, K&uuml;hleborn shall teach you manners.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The terror of the others increased at these strange words; they looked
+at the maiden with awe, and Huldbrand was just mustering courage to
+ask her a question, when a voice answered her from without: &quot;I am no
+spirit of earth; call me, if you will, a spirit pent in mortal clay.
+If you fear God, and will be charitable, you dwellers in the cottage,
+open the door to me.&quot; Undine opened it before he had done speaking,
+and held out a lamp into the stormy night, so as to show them the
+figure of an aged Priest, who started back as the radiant beauty of
+Undine flashed upon his sight. Well might he suspect magic and
+witchery, when so bright a vision shone out of a mean-looking cottage;
+he accordingly began a canticle, &quot;All good spirits give praise to the
+Lord!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am no ghost,&quot; said Undine, smiling; &quot;am I so frightful to behold?
+And you may see that a pious saying has no terrors for me. I worship
+God, too, and praise Him after my own fashion; He has not created us
+all alike. Come in, venerable father; you will find worthy folks
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The holy man walked in, bowing and casting his eyes around, and
+looking most mild and venerable. Every fold of his dark garment was
+dripping with water, and so were his long white beard and hoary locks.
+The Fisherman and the Knight led him to a bedroom, and gave him change
+of clothing, while the women dried his wet garments by the hearth
+fire. The aged stranger thanked them with all humility and gentleness,
+but would by no means accept of the Knight's splendid mantle, which he
+offered him; he chose himself an old gray wrapper of the Fisherman's
+instead. So they returned to the kitchen; the dame up gave her own
+arm-chair to the Priest, and had no peace till he sat himself down on
+it: &quot;For,&quot; said she, &quot;you are old and weary, and a priest besides.&quot;
+Undine pushed her little footstool toward the good man's feet, and
+altogether behaved to him quite properly and gracefully. Huldbrand
+took notice of this, in a playful whisper; but she answered very
+gravely: &quot;Because he is a servant of the Maker of us all; that is too
+serious for a jest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the two men set meat and wine before their guest, and when he
+had recruited his strength a little, he began his story; saying that
+the day before he had left his monastery, which was a good way off
+beyond the lake, intending to visit the bishop at his palace, and
+report to him the distress which these almost supernatural floods had
+caused the monks and their poor tenantry. After going round a long
+way, to avoid these floods, he had been obliged toward evening to
+cross an arm of the overflowing lake, with the help of two honest
+sailors. &quot;But,&quot; added he, &quot;no sooner had our little vessel touched the
+waves, than we were wrapped in the tremendous storm, which is still
+raging over our heads now. It looked as if the waters had only awaited
+our coming to give a loose to their fury. The oars were soon dashed
+from the seamen's hands, and we saw their broken fragments carried
+further and further from us by the waves. We floated on the wave tops,
+helpless, driven by the furious tempest toward your shores, which we
+saw in the distance whenever the clouds parted for a moment. The boat
+was tossed about still more wildly and giddily: and whether it upset,
+or I fell out, I cannot tell. I floated on, till a wave landed me at
+the foot of a tree, in this your island.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ay, island indeed!&quot; said the Fisherman. &quot;It was a promontory but a
+short time ago. But, since the stream and our lake are gone raving mad
+together, everything about us is new and strange.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Priest continued: &quot;As I crept along the water-side in the dark,
+with a wild uproar around me, something caught my eye, and presently I
+descried a beaten pathway, which was soon lost in the shades; I spied
+the light in your cottage, and ventured to come hither; and I cannot
+sufficiently thank my heavenly Father, who has not only delivered me
+from the waters, but guided me to such kind souls. I feel this
+blessing the more, as it is very likely I may never see any faces but
+yours again.&quot;&mdash;&quot;How so?&quot; asked the fisherman. &quot;Can you guess how long
+this fury of the elements may last?&quot; replied the Priest. &quot;And I am an
+old man. My stream of life may perhaps lose itself in the earth,
+before these floods subside. And besides, it may be the foaming waters
+will divide you from the forest more and more, till you are unable to
+get across in your fishing boat; and the people of the mainland, full
+of their own concerns, would quite forget you in your retreat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Shuddering, and crossing herself, the Fisherman's wife exclaimed, &quot;God
+forbid!&quot; But the old man smiled at her, and said, &quot;What creatures we
+are. That would make no difference, to you at least, my dear wife. How
+many years is it since you have set foot within the forest? And have
+you seen any face but Undine's and mine? Lately, indeed, we have had
+the good Knight and Priest besides. But they would stay with us; so
+that if we are forgotten in this island, you will be the gainer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I see,&quot; said the dame; &quot;yet somehow, it is cheerless to feel
+ourselves quite cut off from the rest of the world, however seldom we
+had seen it before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then <i>you</i> will stay with us!&quot; murmured Undine in a sweet voice, and
+she pressed closer to Huldbrand's side. But he was lost in deep
+thought. Since the Priest had last spoken, the land beyond the wild
+stream had seemed to his fancy more dark and distant than ever; while
+the flowery island he lived in&mdash;and his bride, the fairest flower in
+the picture&mdash;bloomed and smiled more and more freshly in his
+imagination. Here was the Priest at hand to unite them;&mdash;and, to
+complete his resolution, the old dame just then darted a reproving
+look at Undine, for clinging to her lover's side in the holy man's
+presence; an angry lecture seemed on the point of beginning. He turned
+toward the Priest, and these words burst from him: &quot;You see before
+you a betrothed pair, reverend sir; if this damsel and the kind old
+people will consent, you shall unite us this very evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old folks were much surprised. Such a thought had often crossed
+their minds, but they had never till this moment heard it uttered; and
+it now fell upon their ears like an unexpected thing. Undine had
+suddenly become quite grave, and sat musing deeply, while the Priest
+inquired into various circumstances, and asked the old couple's
+consent to the deed. After some deliberation, they gave it; the dame
+went away to prepare the young people's bridal chamber, and to fetch
+from her stores two consecrated tapers for the wedding ceremony.
+Meanwhile the Knight was pulling two rings off his gold chain for
+himself and his bride to exchange. But this roused Undine from her
+reverie, and she said: &quot;Stay! my parents did not send me into the
+world quite penniless; they looked forward long ago to this occasion
+and provided for it.&quot; She quickly withdrew, and returned bringing two
+costly rings, one of which she gave to her betrothed and kept the
+other herself. This astonished the old Fisherman, and still more his
+wife, who came in soon after; for they neither of them had ever seen
+these jewels about the child. &quot;My parents,&quot; said Undine, &quot;had these
+rings sewed into the gay dress which I wore, when first I came to you.
+They charged me to let no one know of them till my wedding-day came.
+Therefore I took them secretly out of the dress, and have kept them
+hidden till this evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the Priest put a stop to the conversation, by lighting the holy
+tapers, placing them on the table, and calling the young pair to him.
+With few and solemn words he joined their hands; the aged couple gave
+their blessing, while the bride leaned upon her husband, pensive and
+trembling.</p>
+
+<p>When it was over, the Priest said: &quot;You are strange people after all!
+What did you mean by saying you were the only inhabitants of this
+island? During the whole ceremony there was a fine-looking tall man,
+in a white cloak, standing just outside the window opposite me. He
+must be near the door still, if you like to invite him in.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Heaven
+forbid!&quot; said the dame shuddering; the old man shook his head without
+speaking; and Huldbrand rushed to the window. He could fancy he saw a
+streak of white, but it was soon lost in darkness. So he assured the
+Priest he must have been mistaken; and they all sat down comfortably
+round the fire.</p>
+
+
+<h4>VII.&mdash;HOW THE REST OF THE EVENING PASSED AWAY</h4>
+
+<p>Undine had been perfectly quiet and well-behaved both before and
+during the marriage ceremony; but now her wild spirits seemed the more
+uncontrollable from the restraint they had undergone, and rose to an
+extravagant height. She played all manner of childish tricks on her
+husband, her foster parents, and even the venerable Priest, and when
+the old woman began to check her, one or two words from Huldbrand, who
+gravely called Undine &quot;his wife,&quot; reduced her to silence. The Knight
+himself, however, was far from being pleased at Undine's childishness;
+but no hint or sign would stop her. Whenever she perceived his
+disapproving looks&mdash;which she occasionally did&mdash;it subdued her for the
+moment; she would sit down by him, whisper something playfully in his
+ear, and so dispel the frown as it gathered on his brow. But the next
+instant some wild nonsense would dart into her head, and set her off
+worse than ever. At last the Priest said to her, in a kind but grave
+manner, &quot;My dear young lady, no one that beholds you can be severe
+upon you, it is true; but remember, it is your duty to keep watch over
+your soul, that it may be ever in harmony with that of your wedded
+husband.&quot; &quot;Soul!&quot; cried Undine, laughing; &quot;that sounds very fine, and
+for most people may be very edifying and moral advice. But if one has
+no soul at all, pray how is one to keep watch over it? And that is my
+case.&quot; The Priest was deeply hurt, and turned away his face in mingled
+sorrow and anger. But she came up to him beseechingly, and said, &quot;Nay,
+hear me before you are angry, for it grieves me to see you displeased,
+and you would not distress any creature who has done you no harm. Only
+have patience with me, and I will tell you all, from the beginning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They saw she was preparing to give them a regular history; but she
+stopped short, appearing thrilled by some secret recollection, and
+burst into a flood of gentle tears. They were quite at a loss what to
+think of her, and gazed upon her, distressed from various causes. At
+length drying her eyes, she looked at the Priest earnestly and said,
+&quot;There must be much to love in a soul, but much that is awful too. For
+God's sake, holy father, tell me&mdash;were it not better to be still
+without one?&quot; She waited breathlessly for an answer, restraining her
+tears. Her hearers had all risen from their seats, and now stepped
+back from her, shuddering. She seemed to have no eyes but for the
+saintly man; her countenance assumed an expression of anxiety and awe
+which yet more alarmed the others. &quot;Heavy must be the burden of a
+soul,&quot; added she, as no one answered her&mdash;&quot;heavy indeed! for the mere
+approach of mine over-shadows me with anxious melancholy. And ah! how
+light-hearted, how joyous I used to be!&quot; A fresh burst of weeping
+overcame her, and she covered her face with her veil.</p>
+
+<p>The Priest then approached her with much gravity, and adjured her by
+the holiest names to confess the truth, if any evil lurked in her,
+unknown to them. But she fell on her knees before him, repeated after
+him all his words of piety, gave praise to God, and declared she was
+in charity with all the world. The Priest turned to the young Knight.
+&quot;Sir bridegroom,&quot; said he, &quot;I leave you alone with her whom I have
+made your wife. As far as I can discover, there is no evil, although
+much that is mysterious, in her. I exhort you to be sober, loving, and
+faithful.&quot; So he went out; and the old people followed; crossing
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Undine was still on her knees; she uncovered her face and looked
+timidly at Huldbrand, saying, &quot;Ah, thou wilt surely cast me off now;
+and yet I have done nothing wrong, poor, poor child that I am!&quot; This
+she said with so touching and gentle an expression, that her husband
+forgot all the gloom and mystery that had chilled his heart; he
+hastened toward, her and raised her in his arms. She smiled through
+her tears&mdash;it was like the glow of dawn shining upon a clear fountain.
+&quot;Thou canst not forsake me!&quot; whispered she, in accents of the firmest
+reliance; and she stroked his cheeks with her soft little hands. He
+tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts which still lurked in a corner
+of his mind, suggesting to him that he had married a fairy, or some
+shadowy being from the world of spirits: one question, however, he
+could not help asking: &quot;My dear little Undine, just tell me one thing:
+what was that you said about spirits of earth, and K&uuml;hleborn, when the
+Priest knocked at the door?&quot;&mdash;&quot;All nonsense!&quot; said Undine, laughing,
+with her usual gayety. &quot;First I frightened you with it, and then you
+frightened me. And that is the end of the story, and of our
+wedding-day!&quot;</p>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.&mdash;THE DAY AFTER THE MARRIAGE</h4>
+
+<p>A bright morning light wakened the young people; and Huldbrand lay
+musing silently. As often as he had dropped asleep, he had been scared
+by horrible dreams of spectres who suddenly took the form of fair
+women, or of fair women who were transformed into dragons. And when he
+started up from these grim visions, and saw the pale, cold moonlight
+streaming in at the window, he would turn an anxious look toward
+Undine; she lay slumbering in undisturbed beauty and peace. Then he
+would compose himself to sleep again&mdash;soon again to wake in terror.
+When he looked back upon all this in broad daylight, he was angry with
+himself for having let a suspicion, a shade of distrust of his
+beautiful wife, enter his mind. He frankly confessed to her this
+injustice; she answered him only by pressing his hand, and sighing
+from the bottom of her heart. But a look, such as her eyes had never
+before given, of the deepest and most confiding tenderness, left him
+no doubt that she forgave him. So he arose cheerfully, and joined the
+family in the sitting-room. The three others were gathered round the
+hearth looking uneasy, and neither of them having ventured to speak
+his thoughts yet. The Priest seemed to be secretly praying for
+deliverance from evil. But when the young husband appeared, beaming
+with happiness, the care-worn faces brightened up; nay, the Fisherman
+ventured upon a few courteous jokes with the Knight, which won a smile
+even from the good housewife. Meanwhile Undine had dressed herself,
+and now came in; they could not help rising to meet her, and stood
+still, astonished; the young creature was the same, yet so different.
+The Priest was the first to address her, with an air of paternal
+kindness, and when he raised his hands in benediction, the fair woman
+sank on her knees, trembling with pious awe. In a few meek and humble
+words, she begged him to forgive the folly of the day before, and
+besought him, with great emotion, to pray for the salvation of her
+soul. Then rising, she kissed her foster parents, and thanking them
+for all their kindness, she said: &quot;Oh, now I feel from the bottom of
+my heart how much you have done for me, how deeply grateful I ought to
+be, dear, dear people!&quot; She seemed as if she could not caress them
+enough; but soon, observing the dame glance toward the breakfast, she
+went toward the hearth, busied herself arranging and preparing the
+meal, and would not suffer the good woman to take the least trouble
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>So she went on all day; at once a young matron, and a bashful, tender,
+delicate bride. The three who knew her best were every moment
+expecting this mood to change, and give place to one of her crazy
+fits; but they watched in vain. There was still the same angelic
+mildness and sweetness. The Priest could not keep his eyes away from
+her, and he said more than once to the bridegroom, &quot;Sir, it was a
+great treasure which Heaven bestowed upon you yesterday, by my poor
+ministration; cherish her worthily, and she will be to you a blessing
+in time and eternity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Toward evening, Undine clasped the Knight's arm with modest
+tenderness, and gently led him out before the door, where the rays of
+the setting sun were lighting up the fresh grass, and the tall, taper
+stems of trees. The young wife's face wore a melting expression of
+love and sadness, and her lips quivered with some anxious, momentous
+secret, which as yet betrayed itself only by scarce audible sighs. She
+silently led her companion onward; if he spoke, she replied by a look
+which gave him no direct answer, but revealed a whole heaven of love
+and timid submission. So they reached the banks of the stream which
+had overflowed, and the Knight started on finding the wild torrent
+changed into a gentle rippling brook, without a trace of its former
+violence left. &quot;By to-morrow it will have dried up completely,&quot; said
+the bride, in a faltering voice, &quot;and thou mayest begone whither thou
+wilt.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Not without thee, my Undine,&quot; said the Knight, playfully;
+&quot;consider, if I had a mind to forsake thee, the Church, the Emperor,
+and his ministers might step in, and bring thy truant home.&quot;&mdash;&quot;No, no,
+you are free; it shall be as you please!&quot; murmured Undine, half tears,
+half smiles. &quot;But I think thou wilt not cast me away; is not my heart
+bound up in thine? Carry me over to that little island opposite. There
+I will know my fate. I could indeed easily step through the little
+waves; but I love to rest in thine arms! and thou <i>mayest</i> cast me
+off; this may be the last time.&quot; Huldbrand, full of anxious emotion,
+knew not how to answer. He took her up in his arms, and carried her
+over, now recollecting that from this very island he had borne her
+home to the Fisherman, on the night of his arrival. When there, he
+placed his fair burden on the turf, and was going to sit down beside
+her; but she said, &quot;No, sit there, opposite me&mdash;I will read my doom in
+your eyes, before your lips have spoken it. Now listen, and I will
+tell you all.&quot; And she began:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must know, my own love, that in each element exists a race of
+beings, whose form scarcely differs from yours, but who very seldom
+appear to mortal sight. In the flames, the wondrous Salamanders
+glitter and disport themselves; in the depths of earth dwell the dry,
+spiteful race of Gnomes; the forests are peopled by Wood-nymphs, who
+are also spirits of air; and the seas, the rivers and brooks contain
+the numberless tribes of Water-sprites. Their echoing halls of
+crystal, where the light of heaven pours in, with its sun and stars,
+are glorious to dwell in; the gardens contain beautiful coral plants,
+with blue and red fruits; they wander over bright sea-sands, and
+gay-coloured shells, among the hidden treasures of the old world, too
+precious to be bestowed on these latter days, and long since covered
+by the silver mantle of the deep: many a noble monument still gleams
+there below, bedewed by the tears of Ocean, who garlands it with
+flowery sea-weeds and wreaths of shells. Those that dwell there below,
+are noble and lovely to behold, far more so than mankind. Many a
+fisherman has had a passing glimpse of some fair water-nymph, rising
+out of the sea with her song; he would then spread the report of her
+apparition, and these wonderful beings came to be called <i>Undines</i>.
+And you now see before you, my love, an Undine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Knight tried to persuade himself that his fair wife was in one of
+her wild moods, and had invented this strange tale in sport. But
+though he said this to himself, he could not for a moment believe it;
+a mysterious feeling thrilled him; and, unable to utter a word, he
+kept his eyes rivetted on the beautiful speaker. She shook her head
+sadly, heaved a deep sigh, and went on:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We might be happier than our human fellow-creatures (for we call you
+fellow-creatures, as our forms are alike), but for one great evil. We,
+and the other children of the elements, go down to the dust, body and
+spirit; not a trace of us remains and when the time comes for you to
+rise again to a glorified existence, we shall have perished with our
+native sands, flames, winds, and waves. For we have no souls; the
+elements move us, obey us while we live, close over us when we die;
+and we light spirits live as free from care as the nightingale, the
+gold-fish, and all such bright children of Nature. But no creatures
+rest content in their appointed place. My father, who is a mighty
+prince in the Mediterranean Sea, determined that his only child should
+be endowed with a soul, even at the cost of much suffering, which is
+ever the lot of souls. But a soul can be infused into one of our race,
+only by being united in the closest bands of love to one of yours. And
+now I have obtained a soul; to thee I owe it, O best beloved! and for
+that gift I shall ever bless thee, unless thou dost devote my whole
+futurity to misery. For what is to become of me should thou recoil
+from me, and cast me off? Yet I would not detain thee by deceit. And
+if I am to leave thee, say so now; go back to the land alone. I will
+plunge into this brook; it is my uncle, who leads a wonderful,
+sequestered life in this forest, away from all his friends. But he is
+powerful, and allied to many great rivers; and as he brought me here
+to the Fisherman, a gay and laughing child, so he is ready to take me
+back to my parents, a loving, suffering, forsaken woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She would have gone on; but Huldbrand, full of compassion and love,
+caught her in his arms, and carried her back. There, with tears and
+kisses, he swore never to forsake his beloved wife; and said he felt
+more blessed than the Greek sculptor Pygmalion, whose beautiful statue
+dame Venus transformed into a living woman. Hanging on his arm in
+peaceful reliance, Undine returned; and she felt from her inmost
+heart, how little cause she had to regret the crystal palaces of her
+father.</p>
+
+
+<h4>IX.&mdash;HOW THE KNIGHT AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE DEPARTED</h4>
+
+<p>When Huldbrand awoke from sleep the next morning, he missed his fair
+companion; and again he was tormented with a doubt, whether his
+marriage, and the lovely Undine, might not be all a fairy dream. But
+she soon reappeared, came up to him, and said, &quot;I have been out early,
+to see if my uncle had kept his word. He has recalled all the straying
+waters into his quiet bed, and now takes his lonely and pensive course
+through the forest as he used to do. His friends in the lake and the
+air are gone to rest also; all things have returned to their usual
+calmness; and you may set out homeward on dry land, as soon as you
+please.&quot; Huldbrand felt as if dreaming still, so little could he
+understand his wife's wonderful relations. But he took no notice of
+this, and his sweet Undine's gentle attentions soon charmed every
+uneasy thought away.</p>
+
+<p>A little while after, as they stood at the door together, looking over
+the fair scene with its boundary of clear waters, his heart yearned so
+toward this cradle of his love that he said: &quot;But why should we go
+away so soon? we shall never spend happier days in yonder world, than
+we have passed in this peaceful nook. Let us at least see two or three
+more suns go down here.&quot;&mdash;&quot;As my Lord wishes,&quot; answered Undine, with
+cheerful submission; &quot;but, you see, the old people will be grieved at
+parting with me, whenever it is; and if we give them time to become
+acquainted with my soul, and with its new powers of loving and
+honouring them, I fear that when I go, their aged hearts will break
+under the load of sorrow. As yet, they take my gentle mood for a
+passing whim, such as they saw me liable to formerly, like a calm on
+the lake when the winds are lulled; and they will soon begin to love
+some favourite tree or flower in my place. They must not learn to know
+this newly obtained, affectionate heart, in the first overflowings of
+its tenderness, just at the moment when they are to lose me for this
+world; and how could I disguise it from them, if we remained together
+longer?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand agreed with her; he went to the old couple and finding them
+ready to consent, he resolved upon setting out that very hour. The
+Priest offered to accompany them; after a hasty farewell, the pretty
+bride was placed on the horse by her husband, and they crossed the
+stream's dry bed quickly, and entered the forest. Undine shed silent
+but bitter tears, while the old folks wailed after her aloud. It
+seemed as if some foreboding were crossing their minds, of how great
+their loss would prove.</p>
+
+<p>The three travellers reached the deepest shades of the forest, without
+breaking silence. It was a fair sight to behold, as they passed
+through the leafy bowers: the graceful woman sitting on her noble
+steed, guarded on one side by the venerable Priest in the white habit
+of his order; on the other, by the youthful Knight, with his gorgeous
+attire and glittering sword. Huldbrand had no eyes but for his
+precious wife; Undine, who had dried her duteous tears, no thought but
+for him; and they soon fell into a noiseless interchange of glances
+and signs, which at length was interrupted by the sound of a low
+murmur, proceeding from the Priest and a fourth fellow-traveller, who
+had joined them unobserved. He wore a white robe, very like the
+Priest's dress, except that the hood almost covered his face, and the
+rest of it floated round him in such large folds that he was
+perpetually obliged to gather up, throw it over his arm, or otherwise
+arrange it; yet it did not seem to impede him at all in walking; when
+the young people saw him he was saying, &quot;And so, my worthy father, I
+have dwelt in the forest for many a year, yet I am not what you
+commonly call a hermit. For, as I told you, I know nothing of penance,
+nor do I think it would do me much good. What makes me so fond of the
+woods is, that I have a very particular fancy for winding through the
+dark shades and forest walks, with my loose white clothes floating
+about me; now and then a pretty sunbeam will glance over me as I
+go.&quot;&mdash;&quot;You seem to be a very curious person,&quot; replied the Priest &quot;and
+I should like to know more about you.&quot;&mdash;&quot;And pray who are you, to
+carry on the acquaintance?&quot; said the stranger. &quot;They call me Father
+Heilmann,&quot; answered the Priest, &quot;and I belong to St. Mary's
+monastery, beyond the lake.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Ay, ay!&quot; rejoined the other. &quot;My name
+is K&uuml;hleborn, and if I stood upon ceremony, I might well call myself
+Lord of K&uuml;hleborn, or Baron (Freiherr) K&uuml;hleborn; for free I am, as
+the bird of the air, or a trifle more free. For instance, I must now
+have a word with the young woman there.&quot; And before they could look
+round, he was on the other side of the Priest, close to Undine, and
+stretching up his tall figure to whisper in her ear. But she turned
+hastily away, saying, &quot;I have nothing more to do with you
+now.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Heyday!&quot; said the stranger, laughing, &quot;what a prodigiously
+grand marriage yours must be, if you are to cast off your relations in
+this way! Have you forgotten Uncle K&uuml;hleborn, who brought you all the
+way here on his back so kindly?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I entreat you,&quot; said Undine, &quot;never come to me again. I am afraid
+of you now; and will not my husband become afraid of me, if he finds I
+have so strange a family?&quot;&mdash;&quot;My little niece,&quot; said K&uuml;hleborn, &quot;please
+to remember that I am protecting you all this time; the foul Spirits
+of Earth might play you troublesome tricks if I did not. So you had
+better let me go on with you, and no more words. The old Priest there
+has a better memory than yours, for he would have it he knew my face
+very well, and that I must have been with him in the boat, when he
+fell into the water. And he may well say so, seeing that the wave
+which washed him over was none but myself, and I landed him safe on
+the shore, in time for your wedding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Undine and the Knight looked at Father Heilmann, but he seemed to be
+plodding on in a waking dream, and not listening to what was said.
+Undine said to K&uuml;hleborn, &quot;There, I can see the end of the wood; we
+want your help no longer, and there is nothing to disturb us but you.
+So in love and kindness I entreat you, begone, and let us go in
+peace.&quot; This seemed to make K&uuml;hleborn angry; he twisted his face
+hideously, and hissed at Undine, who cried aloud for help. Like
+lightning the Knight passed round her horse, and aimed a blow at
+K&uuml;hleborn's head with his sword. But instead of the head, he struck
+into a waterfall, which gushed down a high cliff near them, and now
+showered them all with a splash that sounded like laughter, and wetted
+them to the bone. The Priest, seeming to wake up, said, &quot;Well, I was
+expecting this, because that brook gushed down the rock so close to
+us. At first I could not shake off the idea that it was a man, and was
+speaking to me.&quot; The waterfall whispered distinctly in Huldbrand's
+ear, &quot;Rash youth, dashing youth, I chide thee not, I shame thee not;
+still shield thy precious wife safe and sure, rash young soldier,
+dashing Knight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little further on they emerged into the open plains. The city lay
+glittering before them, and the evening sun that gilded her towers,
+lent its grateful warmth to dry their soaked garments.</p>
+
+
+<h4>X.&mdash;OF THEIR WAY OF LIFE IN THE TOWN</h4>
+
+<p>The sudden disappearance of the young Knight Huldbrand of Ringstetten
+had made a great stir in the city, and distressed the inhabitants,
+with whom his gallantry in the lists and the dance, and his gentle,
+courteous manners, had made him very popular. His retainers would not
+leave the place without their master, but yet none had the courage to
+seek him in the haunted forest. They therefore remained in their
+hostelry, idly hoping, as men are so apt to do, and keeping alive the
+remembrance of their lost lord by lamentations. But soon after, when
+the tempest raged and the rivers overflowed, few doubted that the
+handsome stranger must have perished. Bertalda, among others, mourned
+him for lost, and was ready to curse herself, for having urged him to
+the fatal ride through the forest. Her ducal foster parents had
+arrived to take her away, but she prevailed upon them to wait a
+little, in hope that a true report of Huldbrand's death or safety
+might reach them. She tried to persuade some of the young knights who
+contended for her favour, to venture into the forest and seek for the
+noble adventurer. But she would not offer her hand as the reward,
+because she still hoped to bestow it some day on the wanderer himself;
+and to obtain a glove, a scarf, or some such token from her, none of
+them cared to expose his life to bring back so dangerous a rival.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when Huldbrand unexpectedly reappeared, it spread joy among his
+servants, and all the people generally, except Bertalda; for while the
+others were pleased at his bringing with him such a beautiful wife,
+and Father Heilmann to bear witness to their marriage, it could not
+but grieve <i>her</i>: first, because the young Knight had really won her
+heart; and next, because she had betrayed her feelings by so openly
+lamenting his absence, far more than was now becoming. However, she
+behaved like a prudent woman and suited her conduct to the
+circumstances, by living in the most cordial intimacy with Undine&mdash;who
+passed in the town for a princess, released by Huldbrand from the
+power of some wicked enchanter of the forest. If she or her husband
+were questioned about it, they gave evasive answers; Father Heilmann's
+lips were sealed on all such idle topics, beside which, he had left
+them soon after they arrived, and returned to his cloister: so the
+citizens were left to their own wondering conjectures, and even
+Bertalda came no nearer the truth than others.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Undine grew daily more fond of this winning damsel. &quot;We
+must have known each other before,&quot; she would often say, &quot;or else some
+secret attraction draws us toward each other; for without some cause,
+some strange, mysterious cause, I am sure nobody would love another as
+I have loved you from the moment we met.&quot; Bertalda, on her part, could
+not deny that she felt strongly inclined to like Undine,
+notwithstanding the grounds of complaint she thought she had against
+this happy rival. The affection being mutual, the one persuaded her
+parents, the other her wedded lord, to defer the day of departure
+repeatedly; they even went so far as to propose that Bertalda should
+accompany Undine to the castle of Ringstetten, near the source of the
+Danube.</p>
+
+<p>They were talking of this one fine evening, as they sauntered by
+starlight round the market-place, which was surrounded by high trees;
+the young couple had invited Bertalda to join their evening stroll,
+and they now paced backward and forward in pleasant talk, with the
+dark blue sky over their heads, and a beautiful fountain before them
+in the centre, which, as it bubbled and sprang up into fanciful
+shapes, often caught their attention, and interrupted the
+conversation. All around them was serene and pleasant; through the
+foliage gleamed the light of many a lamp from the surrounding houses;
+and the ear was soothed by the hum of children at play, and of
+sauntering groups like themselves; they enjoyed at once the pleasure
+of solitude, and the social happiness of being near the cheerful
+haunts of men. Every little difficulty that had occurred to their
+favourite plan, seemed to vanish upon nearer examination, and the
+three friends could not imagine that Bertalda's consent to the journey
+need be delayed a moment. But as she was on the point of naming a day
+for joining them and setting out, a very tall man came forward from
+the middle of the place, bowed to them respectfully, and began
+whispering in Undine's ear. She though apparently displeased with the
+interruption and with the speaker, stepped aside with him, and they
+began a low discourse together, in what sounded like a foreign
+language. Huldbrand thought he knew this strange man's face, and fixed
+his attention upon him so earnestly, that he neither heard nor
+answered the astonished Bertalda's questions. All at once Undine
+clapped her hands joyfully, and turned her back, laughing, upon the
+stranger; he shook his head and walked off in an angry, hurried
+manner, and stepped into the fountain. This confirmed Huldbrand in his
+guess; while Bertalda inquired, &quot;My dear Undine, what business had
+that man of the fountain with you?&quot; Her friend smiled archly and
+replied, &quot;On your birthday, the day after to-morrow, I will tell you,
+my sweet girl;&quot; and she would say no more. She only pressed Bertalda
+to come and dine with them on that day, and bring her foster parents;
+after which they separated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;K&uuml;hleborn?&quot; said Huldbrand to his wife with a suppressed shudder, as
+they walked home through the dark streets. &quot;Yes, it was he,&quot; replied
+Undine &quot;and he tried to put all sorts of nonsense into my head.
+However, without intending it he delighted me by one piece of news. If
+you wish to hear it, now, my kind lord, you have but to say so, and I
+will tell you every word. But if you like to give your Undine a <i>very</i>
+great delight, you will wait two days, and then have your share in the
+surprise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Knight readily granted her what she had asked so meekly and
+gracefully; and as she dropped asleep she murmured, &quot;How it will
+delight her! how little she expects such a message from the mysterious
+man&mdash;dear, dear Bertalda!&quot;</p>
+
+
+<h4>XI.&mdash;BERTALDA'S BIRTHDAY</h4>
+
+<p>The guests were now assembled at table; Bertalda sat at the top,
+adorned with flowers like the goddess of spring, and flashing with
+jewels, the gifts of many friends and relations. Undine and Huldbrand
+were on either side of her. When the sumptuous meal was ended, and the
+dessert served, the doors were opened&mdash;according to the good old
+German custom&mdash;to let the common people look in and have their share
+in the gaiety of the rich. The attendants offered wine and cake to the
+assembled crowd. Huldbrand and Bertalda were eagerly watching for the
+promised disclosure, and both kept their eyes fixed upon Undine. But
+she was still silent; her cheeks dimpled occasionally with a bright,
+conscious smile. Those that knew what she was about to do, could
+perceive that her interesting secret was ready to burst from her lips,
+but that she was playfully determined to keep it in, as children
+sometimes will save their daintiest morsels for the last. Her silent
+glee communicated itself to the other two, who watched impatiently for
+the happy news that was about to gladden their hearts. Some of the
+company now asked Undine for a song. She seemed to be prepared with
+one, and sent for her lute, to which she sang as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>The sun gilds the wave,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The flowers are sweet,<br /></span>
+<span>And the ocean doth lave<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The grass at our feet!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>What lies on the earth<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So blooming and gay?<br /></span>
+<span>Doth a blossom peep forth<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And greet the new day?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Ah, 'tis a fair child!<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She sports with the flowers,<br /></span>
+<span>So gladsome and mild,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Through the warm sunny hours<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>O sweet one, who brought thee?<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;From far distant shore<br /></span>
+<span>Old Ocean he caught thee,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And many a league bore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Poor babe, all in vain<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou dost put forth thy hand<br /></span>
+<span>None clasp it again,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;'Tis a bleak foreign land:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The flowers bloom brightly,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And soft breathes the air,<br /></span>
+<span>But all pass thee lightly:<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy mother is far!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Thy life scarce begun,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy smiles fresh from heaven,<br /></span>
+<span>Thy best treasure is gone,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To another 'tis given.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>A gallant charger treads the dell,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His noble rider pities thee;<br /></span>
+<span>He takes thee home, he tends thee well,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And cares for thee right gen'rously.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Well thou becom'st thy station high,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And bloom'st the fairest in the land;<br /></span>
+<span>And yet, alas! the purest joy<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Is left on thine own distant strand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Undine put down her lute with a melancholy smile and the eyes of the
+Duke and Duchess filled with tears: &quot;So it was when I found you, my
+poor innocent orphan!&quot; said the Duke with great emotion &quot;as the fair
+singer said, your best treasure was gone and we have been unable to
+supply its place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now let us think of the poor parents,&quot; said Undine and she struck
+the chords and sang:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span style="margin-left:8em;">I<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Mother roves from room to room<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Seeking rest, she knows not how,<br /></span>
+<span>The house is silent as the tomb,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And who is there to bless her now?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span style="margin-left:8em;">II<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Silent house! Oh words of sorrow!<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where is now her darling child?<br /></span>
+<span>She who should have cheered the morrow,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And the evening hours beguiled?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span style="margin-left:8em;">III<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The buds are swelling on the tree,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The sun returns when night is o'er;<br /></span>
+<span>But, mother, ne'er comes joy to thee,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy child shall bless thine eyes no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span style="margin-left:8em;">IV<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And when the evening breezes blow,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And father seeks his own fireside,<br /></span>
+<span>He smiles, forgetful of his woe,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But ah! his tears that smile shall hide.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span style="margin-left:8em;">V<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Father knows that in his home<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Deathlike stillness dwells for aye;<br /></span>
+<span>The voice of mirth no more shall come,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And mother sighs the livelong day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;O Undine, for God's sake, where are my parents?&quot; cried Bertalda,
+weeping. &quot;Surely you know, you have discovered it, most wonderful
+woman; else how could you have stirred my inmost heart as you have
+done? They are perhaps even now in the room&mdash;can it be?&quot;&mdash;and her eyes
+glanced over the gay assembly, and fixed upon a reigning Princess who
+sat next to the Duke. But Undine bent forward to the door, her eyes
+overflowing with the happiest tears. &quot;Where are they, the poor anxious
+parents?&quot; said she; and the old Fisherman and his wife came out from
+the crowd of bystanders. They turned an inquiring eye upon Undine, and
+then upon the handsome lady whom they were to call daughter. &quot;There
+she is,&quot; faltered the delighted Undine, and the aged couple caught
+their long-lost child in their arms, thanking God, and weeping aloud.</p>
+
+<p>Affrighted and enraged, Bertalda shrank from their embrace. It was
+more than her proud spirit could bear, to be thus degraded; at a
+moment, too, when she was fully expecting an increase of splendour,
+and fancy was showering pearls and diadems upon her head. She
+suspected that her rival had contrived this, on purpose to mortify her
+before Huldbrand and all the world. She reviled both Undine and the
+old people; the hateful words, &quot;Treacherous creature! and bribed
+wretches!&quot; burst from her lips. The old woman said in a half whisper,
+&quot;Dear me, she has grown up a wicked woman; and yet my heart tells me
+she is my own child.&quot; The Fisherman has clasped his hands, and was
+praying silently that this girl might not prove to be theirs indeed.
+Undine, pale as death, looked from Bertalda to the parents, from the
+parents to Bertalda, and could not recover the rude shock she had
+sustained, at being plunged from all her happy dreams into a state of
+fear and misery, such as she had never known before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you a soul? Have you indeed a soul, Bertalda?&quot; she exclaimed
+once or twice, trying to recall her angry friend to reason, from what
+she took for a fit of madness, or a kind of nightmare. But Bertalda
+only stormed the louder; the repulsed parents wailed piteously, and
+the company began to dispute angrily and to side with one or the
+other; when Undine stepped forward, and asked with so much earnest
+gentleness to be listened to in her husband's house that all was
+hushed in a moment. She took the place which Bertalda had left, at
+the head of the table, and as she stood there in modest dignity, the
+eyes of all turned toward her, and she said: &quot;You all that cast such
+angry looks at each other, and so cruelly spoil the joy of my poor
+feast, alas! I little knew what your foolish angry passions were, and
+I think I never shall understand you. What I had hoped would do so
+much good has led to all this; but that is not my fault, it is your
+own doing, believe me; I have little more to say, but one thing you
+must hear: I have told no falsehood. Proofs I have none to give,
+beyond my word, but I will swear to the truth of it. I heard it from
+him who decoyed Bertalda from her parents into the water, and then
+laid her down in the meadow where the Duke was to pass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is a sorceress,&quot; cried Bertalda, &quot;a witch who has dealings with
+evil spirits! she has acknowledged it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have not,&quot; said Undine, with a heaven of innocence and
+guilelessness in her eyes. &quot;Nor am I a witch&mdash;only look at me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then she lies,&quot; cried Bertalda, &quot;and she dares not assert that I was
+born of these mean people. My noble parents, I beseech you take me out
+of this room, and this town, where they are leagued together to insult
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the venerable Duke stood still, and his lady said, &quot;We must first
+sift this matter to the bottom. Nothing shall make me leave the room
+till my doubts are satisfied.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the old woman came up, made a deep obeisance to the Duchess, and
+said, &quot;You give me courage to speak, my noble, worthy lady. I must
+tell you, that if this ungodly young woman is my daughter, I shall
+know her by a violet mark between her shoulders, and another on the
+left instep. If she would but come with me into another room&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not uncover myself before that country-woman,&quot; said Bertalda,
+proudly turning away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But before me, you will,&quot; rejoined the Duchess gravely. &quot;You shall go
+with me into that room, young woman, and the good dame will accompany
+us.&quot; They withdrew together, leaving the party in silent suspense. In
+a few minutes they came back; Bertalda was deadly pale, and the
+Duchess said, &quot;Truth is truth, and I am bound to declare that our Lady
+Hostess has told us perfectly right. Bertalda is the Fisherman's
+daughter; more than that, it concerns nobody to know.&quot; And the
+princely pair departed, taking with them their adopted child, and
+followed (upon a sign from the Duke) by the Fisherman and his wife.
+The rest of the assembly broke up, in silence or with secret murmurs,
+and Undine sank into Huldbrand's arms, weeping bitterly.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XII.&mdash;HOW THEY LEFT THE IMPERIAL CITY</h4>
+
+<p>There was certainly much to displease the Lord of Ringstetten in the
+events of this day; yet he could not look back upon them, without
+feeling proud of the guileless truth and the generosity of heart shown
+by his lovely wife. &quot;If indeed her soul was my gift,&quot; thought he, &quot;it
+is nevertheless much better than my own;&quot; and he devoted himself to
+the task of soothing her grief, and determined he would take her away
+the next morning from a spot now so full of bitter recollections.</p>
+
+<p>They were mistaken, however, in thinking that she had lost in the eyes
+of the world by this adventure. So prepared were the minds of the
+people to find something mysterious in her, that her strange discovery
+of Bertalda's origin scarcely surprised them; while, on the other
+hand, everyone that heard of Bertalda's history and of her passionate
+behaviour, was moved with indignation. Of this, the Knight and Undine
+were not aware; nor would it have given them any comfort, for she was
+still as jealous of Bertalda's good name as of her own. Upon the
+whole, they had no greater wish than to leave the town without delay.</p>
+
+<p>At daybreak next morning, Undine's chariot was in readiness at the
+door, and the steeds of Huldbrand and of his squires stood around it,
+pawing the ground with impatience. As the Knight led his fair bride to
+the door, a fishing girl accosted them. &quot;We want no fish,&quot; said
+Huldbrand; &quot;we are just going away.&quot; The girl began to sob bitterly,
+and they then recognised her as Bertalda. They immediately turned back
+into the house with her; and she said that the Duke and Duchess had
+been so incensed at her violence the day before, as to withdraw their
+protection from her, though not without giving her a handsome
+allowance. The Fisherman too had received a liberal gift, and had
+departed that evening with his wife, to return to the promontory. &quot;I
+would have gone with them,&quot; she continued, &quot;but the old Fisherman,
+whom they call my father&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so he is, Bertalda,&quot; interrupted Undine. &quot;He is your father. For
+the man you saw at the fountain told me how it is. He was trying to
+persuade me that I had better not take you to Ringstetten, and he let
+drop the secret.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well then,&quot; said Bertalda, &quot;my father&mdash;if so it must be&mdash;my father
+said, 'You shall not live with us till you are an altered creature.
+Take courage and come across the haunted forest to us; that will show
+that you sincerely wish to belong to your parents. But do not come in
+your finery; be like what you are, a fisherman's daughter.' And I will
+do as he bids me; for the whole world has forsaken me, and I have
+nothing left, but to live and die humbly in a poor hut, alone with my
+lowly parents. I do dread the forest very much. They say it is full of
+grim spectres, and I am so timid! But what can I do? I came here only
+to implore the Lady of Ringstetten's pardon for my rude language
+yesterday. I have no doubt you meant what you did kindly, noble Dame;
+but you little knew what a trial your words would be to me, and I was
+so alarmed and bewildered, that many a hasty, wicked word escaped my
+lips. Ah forgive me, forgive me! I am unhappy enough already. Only
+consider what I was yesterday morning, even at the beginning of your
+feast, and what I am now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her words were lost in a flood of bitter tears, and Undine, equally
+affected, fell weeping on her neck. It was long before her emotion
+would let her speak: at length she said, &quot;You shall go to Ringstetten
+with us; all shall be as we had settled it before; only call me Undine
+again, and not 'Lady' and 'noble Dame.' You see, we began by being
+exchanged in our cradles; our lives have been linked from that hour,
+and we will try to bind them so closely that no human power shall
+sever us. Come with us to Ringstetten, and all will be well. We will
+live like sisters there, trust me for arranging that.&quot; Bertalda looked
+timidly at Huldbrand. The sight of this beautiful, forsaken maiden
+affected him; he gave her his hand and encouraged her kindly to trust
+herself to him and his wife. &quot;As to your parents,&quot; said he, &quot;we will
+let them know why you do not appear;&quot; and he would have said much more
+concerning the good old folks, but he observed that Bertalda shuddered
+at the mention of them, and therefore dropped the subject. He gave her
+his arm, placed first her and then Undine in the carriage, and rode
+cheerfully after them; he urged the drivers on so effectually, that
+they very soon found themselves out of sight of the city, and beyond
+the reach of sad recollections&mdash;and the two ladies could fully enjoy
+the beautiful country through which the road wound along.</p>
+
+<p>After a few days' travelling, they arrived, one sunny evening, at the
+Castle of Ringstetten. Its young lord had much business with his
+steward and labourers to occupy him, so that Undine was left alone
+with Bertalda. They took a walk on the high ramparts of the castle,
+and admired the rich Swabian landscape, which lay far and wide around
+them. A tall man suddenly came up, with a courteous obeisance; and
+Bertalda could not help thinking him very like the ominous man of the
+fountain. The likeness struck her still more, when, upon an impatient
+and even menacing gesture of Undine's, he went away with the same
+hasty step and shake of the head as before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not be afraid, dear Bertalda,&quot; said Undine, &quot;the ugly man shall
+not harm you this time.&quot; After which she told her whole history,
+beginning from her birth, and how they had been exchanged in their
+earliest childhood. At first her friend looked at her with serious
+alarm; she thought Undine was possessed by some delirium. But she
+became convinced it was all true, as she listened to the
+well-connected narrative, which accounted so well for the strange
+events of the last months; besides which, there is something in
+genuine truth which finds an answer in every heart, and can hardly be
+mistaken. She was bewildered, when she found herself one of the actors
+in a living fairy tale, and as wild a tale as any she had read. She
+gazed upon Undine with reverence; but could not help feeling a chill
+thrown over her affection for her; and that evening at supper time,
+she wondered at the Knight's fond love and familiarity toward a being,
+whom she now looked upon as rather a spirit than a human creature.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XIII.&mdash;HOW THEY LIVED IN THE CASTLE OF RINGSTETTEN</h4>
+
+<p>As he who relates this tale is moved to the heart by it, and hopes
+that it may affect his readers too, he entreats of them one favour;
+namely, that they will bear with him while he passes rapidly over a
+long space of time; and be content if he barely touches upon what
+happened therein. He knows well that some would relate in great
+detail, step by step, how Huldbrand's heart began to be estranged from
+Undine, and drawn toward Bertalda; while she cared not to disguise
+from him her ardent love; and how between them the poor injured wife
+came to be rather feared than pitied&mdash;and when he showed her kindness,
+a cold shiver would often creep over him and send him back to the
+child of earth, Bertalda;&mdash;all this the author knows, might be dwelt
+upon; nay, perhaps it ought to be so. But his heart shrinks from such
+a task, for he has met with such passages in real life, and cannot
+even abide their shadows in his memory. Perhaps, gentle reader, such
+feelings are known to thee also, for they are the common lot of mortal
+man. Well is thee if thou hast felt, not inflicted, these pangs; in
+these cases it is more blessed to receive than to give. As such
+recollections wake up from their cells, they will but cast a soft
+shade over the past; and it may be the thought of thy withered
+blossoms, once so fondly loved, brings a gentle tear down thy cheek.
+Enough of this: we will not go on to pierce our hearts with a thousand
+separate arrows, but content ourselves with saying, that so it
+happened in the present instance.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Undine drooped day by day, and the others were neither of them
+happy; Bertalda especially was uneasy, and ready to suspect the
+injured wife, whenever she fancied herself slighted by Huldbrand;
+meantime she had gradually assumed the command in the house, and the
+deluded Huldbrand supported her openly. Undine looked on, in meek
+resignation. To increase the discomfort of their lives, there was no
+end to the mysterious sights and sounds that haunted Huldbrand and
+Bertalda in the vaulted galleries of the castle; such as had never
+been heard of before. The long white man, too well known to him as
+Uncle K&uuml;hleborn, and to her as the spirit of the fountain, often
+showed his threatening countenance to both; but chiefly to Bertalda,
+who had more than once been made ill by the fright, and thought
+seriously of leaving the castle. But her love for Huldbrand detained
+her, and she quieted her conscience by thinking, that it had never
+come to a declaration of love between them; and, besides, she would
+not have known which way to turn. After receiving the Lord of
+Ringstetten's message, that Bertalda was with them, the old Fisherman
+had traced a few lines, scarcely legible, from infirmity and long
+disuse, saying, &quot;I am now a poor old widower; for my dear good wife is
+dead. But, lonely as I am by my fireside, I had rather Bertalda stayed
+away than come here. Provided she does not harm my dear Undine! My
+curse be upon her if she does.&quot; Bertalda scattered these last words to
+the winds, but treasured up her father's command that she should not
+join him: as is the way with us selfish beings.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, Undine sent for her
+servants and desired them to fetch a large stone and carefully to stop
+up the mouth of the magnificent fountain, which played in the centre
+of the court. The men objected, that they must then always go down the
+valley to a great distance for water. Undine smiled mournfully. &quot;It
+grieves me to add to your burdens, my good friends,&quot; said she, &quot;I had
+rather go and fill my pitcher myself; but this fountain must be
+sealed up. Trust me, nothing else will do, and it is our only way of
+escaping a much worse evil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The servants rejoiced at any opportunity of pleasing their gentle
+mistress; not a word more was said, and they lifted the huge stone.
+They had raised it, and were about to let it down on the mouth of the
+spring, when Bertalda ran up, calling out to them to stop: the water
+of this fountain was the best for her complexion, and she never would
+consent to its being stopped. But Undine, instead of yielding as
+usual, kept firmly, though gently, to her resolution; she said that it
+behooved her, as mistress of the house, to order all such matters as
+appeared best to her, and none but her lord and husband should call
+her to account. &quot;Look, oh look!&quot; cried Bertalda, eagerly and angrily,
+&quot;how the poor bright water curls and writhes, because you would
+deprive it of every gleam of sunshine, and of the cheerful faces of
+men, whose mirror it was created to be!&quot; In truth, the spring did
+writhe and bubble up wonderfully, just as if someone were trying to
+force his way through; but Undine pressed them the more to dispatch
+the work. Nor was there much need to repeat her commands. The
+household people were too glad at once to obey their gentle lady, and
+to mortify the pride of Bertalda, in spite of whose threats and wrath,
+the stone was soon firmly fastened down on the mouth of the spring.
+Undine bent over it thoughtfully, and wrote on its surface with her
+delicate fingers. Something very hard and sharp must have been hidden
+in her hand; for when she walked away, and the others came up, they
+found all manner of strange characters on the stone, none of which
+were there before.</p>
+
+<p>When the Knight came home that evening, Bertalda received him with
+tears and complaints of Undine. He looked sternly at his poor wife,
+who mournfully cast down her eyes, saying, however, with firmness, &quot;My
+lord and husband would not chide the meanest of his vassals, without
+giving him a hearing, much less his wedded wife.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Speak, then; what
+was your reason for this strange proceeding?&quot; said the Knight with a
+frown. &quot;I would rather tell it you quite alone!&quot; sighed Undine. &quot;You
+can say it just as well in Bertalda's presence,&quot; replied he. &quot;Yes, if
+thou requirest it,&quot; said Undine, &quot;but require it not.&quot; She looked so
+humble, and so submissive in her touching beauty, that the Knight's
+heart was melted, as by a sunbeam from happier days. He took her
+affectionately by the hand, and led her to his own room, where she
+spoke to him as follows.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know that wicked Uncle K&uuml;hleborn, my dearest lord, and have often
+been provoked at meeting him about the castle. Bertalda, too, has been
+often terrified by him. No wonder; he is soulless, shallow, and
+unthinking as a mirror, in whom no feeling can pierce the surface. He
+has two or three times seen that you were displeased with me, that I
+in my childishness could not help weeping, and that Bertalda might
+chance to laugh at the same moment. And upon this he builds all manner
+of unjust suspicions, and interferes, unasked, in our concerns. What
+is the use of my reproaching him, or repulsing him with angry words?
+He believes nothing that I say. A poor cold life is his! How should he
+know, that the sorrows and the joys of love are so sweetly alike, so
+closely linked, that it is not in human power to part them. When a
+tear gushes out, a smile lies beneath; and a smile will draw the tears
+from their secret cells.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled through her tears in Huldbrand's face, and a warm ray of
+his former love shot through his heart. She perceived this, pressed
+closer to him, and with a few tears of joy she went on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As I found it impossible to get rid of our tormentor by words, I had
+nothing for it, but to shut the door against him. And his only access
+to us was that fountain. He has quarrelled with the other fountain
+spirits in the surrounding valleys, and it is much lower down the
+Danube, below the junction of some friends with the great river, that
+his power begins again. Therefore I stopped the mouth of our fountain,
+and inscribed the stone with characters which cripple the might of my
+restless uncle; so that he can no longer cross your path, or mine, or
+Bertalda's. Men can indeed lift the stone off as easily as ever; the
+inscription has no power over them. So you are free to comply with
+Bertalda's wish; but indeed, she little knows what she asks. Against
+her the wild K&uuml;hleborn has a most particular spite, and if some of his
+forebodings were to come true, (as they might, without her intending
+any harm) O, dearest, even thou wert not free from danger!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand deeply felt the generosity of his noble-minded wife, in so
+zealously shutting out her formidable protector, even when reviled by
+Bertalda for so doing. He clasped her fondly in his arms, and said
+with much emotion, &quot;The stone shall remain; and everything shall be
+done as thou wishest, now and hereafter, my sweetest Undine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scarce could she trust these words of love, after so dreary an
+estrangement; she returned his caresses with joyful but timid
+gratitude, and at length said, &quot;My own dear love, as you are so
+exceedingly kind to me to-day, may I ask you to promise one thing?
+Herein you are like the summer: is he not most glorious when he decks
+his brows with thunders, and frowns upon us from his throne of clouds?
+So it is when your eyes flash lightning; it becomes you well,
+although in my weakness I may often shed a tear at it. Only&mdash;if you
+would promise to refrain from it when we are sailing, or even near any
+water. For there, you see, my relations have a right to control me.
+They might relentlessly tear me from you in their wrath, fancying that
+there is an insult offered to one of their race; and I should be
+doomed to spend the rest of my life in the crystal palaces below,
+without ever coming to you; or if they did send me up again&mdash;oh
+Heaven, that would be far worse! No, no, my best beloved; you will not
+let it come to that, if you love your poor Undine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He solemnly promised to do as she asked him, and they returned to the
+saloon, quite restored to comfort and peace. They met Bertalda,
+followed by a few labourers whom she had sent for, and she said in a
+tone of bitterness that had grown common with her of late, &quot;So, now
+your private consultation is over, and we may have the stone taken up.
+Make haste, you people, and do it for me.&quot; But Huldbrand, incensed at
+her arrogance, said shortly and decidedly, &quot;The stone shall not be
+touched,&quot; and he then reproved Bertalda for her rudeness to his wife;
+upon which the labourers walked off, exulting secretly, while Bertalda
+hurried away to her chamber, pale and disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>The hour of supper came, and they waited in vain for Bertalda. A
+message was sent to her; the servants found her room empty, and
+brought back only a sealed letter directed to the Knight. He opened it
+with trepidation and read, &quot;I feel with shame that I am only a
+fisherman's daughter. Having forgotten it a moment, I will expiate my
+crime in the wretched hut of my parents. Live happy with your
+beautiful wife!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Undine was sincerely grieved; she entreated Huldbrand to pursue their
+friend at once, and bring her back with him. Alas! there was little
+need of entreaty. His passion for Bertalda returned with fresh
+violence; he searched the castle all over, asking everyone if they
+could tell him in what direction the fair one had fled. He could
+discover nothing; and now he had mounted his horse in the court, and
+stood ready to set forth, and try the route by which he had brought
+Bertalda to the castle. A peasant boy just then came up, saying that
+he had met the lady riding toward the Black Valley. Like a shot the
+Knight darted through the gate, and took that direction, without
+heeding Undine's anxious cries from a window: &quot;To the Black Valley?
+oh, not there! Huldbrand, not there! Or take me with you for God's
+sake!&quot; Finding it vain to cry, she had her white palfrey saddled in
+all haste, and galloped after her husband, without allowing anyone to
+attend her.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XIV.&mdash;HOW BERTALDA DROVE HOME WITH THE KNIGHT</h4>
+
+<p>The Black Valley lay among the deepest recesses of the mountains. What
+it is called now none can tell. In those times it bore that name among
+the countrymen, on account of the deep gloom shed over it by many high
+trees, mostly pines. Even the brook which gushed down between the
+cliffs was tinged with black, and never sparkled like the merry
+streams from which nothing intercepts the blue of heaven. Now, in the
+dusk of twilight, it looked darker still as it gurgled between the
+rocks. The Knight spurred his horse along its banks, now fearing to
+lose ground in his pursuit, and now again, that he might overlook the
+fugitive in her hiding-place, if he hurried past too swiftly. He
+presently found himself far advanced in the valley, and hoped he must
+soon overtake her, if he were but in the right track. Then again, the
+thought that it might be a wrong one roused the keenest anxiety in
+his breast. Where was the tender Bertalda to lay her head, if he
+missed her in this bleak, stormy night, which was setting in, black
+and awful, upon the valley? And now he saw something white gleaming
+through the boughs, on the slope of the mountain; he took it for
+Bertalda's robe and made for it. But the horse started back, and
+reared so obstinately that Huldbrand, impatient of delay, and having
+already found him difficult to manage among the brambles of the
+thicket, dismounted, and fastened the foaming steed to a tree; he then
+felt his way through the bushes on foot. The boughs splashed his head
+and cheeks roughly with cold wet dew; far off, he heard the growl of
+thunder beyond the mountains, and the whole strange scene had such an
+effect upon him, that he became afraid of approaching the white
+figure, which he now saw lying on the ground at a short distance. And
+yet he could distinguish it to be a woman, dressed in long white
+garments like Bertalda's, asleep or in a swoon. He came close to her,
+made the boughs rustle, and his sword ring&mdash;but she stirred not.
+&quot;Bertalda!&quot; cried he; first gently, then louder and louder&mdash;in vain.
+When at length he shouted the beloved name with the whole strength of
+his lungs, a faint mocking echo returned it from the cavities of the
+rocks&mdash;&quot;Bertalda!&quot; but the sleeper awoke not. He bent over her; but
+the gloom of the valley and the shades of night prevented his
+discerning her features. At length, though kept back by some boding
+fears, he knelt down by her on the earth, and just then a flash of
+lightning lighted up the valley. He saw a hideous distorted face close
+to his own, and heard a hollow voice say, &quot;Give me a kiss, thou sweet
+shepherd!&quot; With a cry of horror Huldbrand started up, and the monster
+after him. &quot;Go home!&quot; it cried, &quot;the bad spirits are abroad&mdash;go home!
+or I have you!&quot; and its long white arm nearly grasped him. &quot;Spiteful
+K&uuml;hleborn,&quot; cried the Knight, taking courage, &quot;what matters it, I know
+thee, foul spirit! There is a kiss for thee!&quot; And he raised his sword
+furiously against the figure. But it dissolved, and a drenching shower
+made it sufficiently clear to the Knight what enemy he had
+encountered. &quot;He would scare me away from Bertalda,&quot; said he aloud to
+himself; &quot;he thinks he can subdue me by his absurd tricks, and make me
+leave the poor terrified maiden in his power, that he may wreak his
+vengeance upon her. But <i>that</i> he never shall&mdash;wretched goblin! What
+power lies in a human breast when steeled by firm resolve, the
+contemptible juggler has yet to learn.&quot; And he felt the truth of his
+own words, and seemed to have nerved himself afresh by them. He
+thought, too, that fortune now began to aid him, for before he had got
+back to his horse again, he distinctly heard the piteous voice of
+Bertalda as if near at hand, borne toward him on the winds as their
+howling mingled with the thunder. Eagerly did he push on in that
+direction, and he found the trembling damsel was just attempting to
+climb the mountain's side, in order, at any risk, to get out of these
+awful shades.</p>
+
+<p>He met her affectionately and however proudly she might before have
+determined to hold out, she could not but rejoice at being rescued by
+her much-loved Huldbrand from the fearful solitude, and warmly invited
+to return to his cheerful home in the castle. She accompanied him with
+scarcely a word of reluctance, but was so exhausted, that the Knight
+felt much relieved when they had reached the horse in safety; he
+hastened to loose him, and would have placed his tender charge upon
+him, and walked by her side to guide her carefully through the
+dangerous shades. But K&uuml;hleborn's mad pranks had driven the horse
+quite wild. Hardly could the Knight himself have sprung upon the
+terrified plunging creature's back: to place the trembling Bertalda
+upon him was quite impossible; so they made up their minds to walk
+home. With his horse's bridle over one arm, Huldbrand supported his
+half-fainting companion on the other. Bertalda mustered what strength
+she could, in order the sooner to get beyond this dreaded valley, but
+fatigue weighed her down like lead, and every limb shook under her;
+partly from the recollection of all she had already suffered from
+K&uuml;hleborn's spite, and partly from terror at the continued crashing of
+the tempest through the mountain forests.</p>
+
+<p>At length she slid down from her protector's arm, and sinking on the
+moss, she said: &quot;Leave me to die here, noble Huldbrand; I reap the
+punishment of my folly, and must sink under this load of fatigue and
+anguish.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Never, my precious friend, never will I forsake you,&quot;
+cried Huldbrand, vainly striving to curb his raging steed, who was now
+beginning to start and plunge worse than ever: the Knight contrived to
+keep him at some distance from the exhausted maiden, so as to save her
+the terror of seeing him near her. But no sooner had he withdrawn
+himself and the wild animal a few steps, than she began to call him
+back in the most piteous manner, thinking he was indeed going to
+desert her in this horrible wilderness. He was quite at a loss what to
+do: gladly would he have let the horse gallop away in the darkness and
+expend his wild fury, but that he feared he might rush down upon the
+very spot where Bertalda lay.</p>
+
+<p>In this extremity of distress, it gave him unspeakable comfort to
+descry a wagon slowly descending the stony road behind him. He called
+out for help: a man's voice replied telling him to have patience, but
+promising to come to his aid; soon two white horses became visible
+through the thicket, and next the white smock-frock of the wagoner,
+and a large sheet of white linen that covered his goods inside. &quot;Ho,
+stop!&quot; cried the man, and the obedient horses stood still. &quot;I see well
+enough,&quot; said he, &quot;what ails the beast. When first I came through
+these parts my horses were just as troublesome; because there is a
+wicked water-sprite living hard by, who takes delight in making them
+play tricks. But I know a charm for this; if you will give me leave to
+whisper it in your horse's ear, you will see him as quiet as mine
+yonder in a moment.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Try your charm, if it will do any good!&quot; said
+the impatient Knight. The driver pulled the unruly horse's head toward
+him, and whispered a couple of words in his ear. At once the animal
+stood still, tamed and pacified, and showed no remains of his former
+fury but by panting and snorting, as if he still chafed inwardly. This
+was no time for Huldbrand to inquire how it had been done. He agreed
+with the wagoner that Bertalda should be taken into the wagon, which
+by his account was loaded with bales of soft cotton, and conveyed to
+the Castle of Ringstetten, while the Knight followed on horseback. But
+his horse seemed too much spent by his former violence to be able to
+carry his master so far, and the man persuaded Huldbrand to get into
+the wagon with Bertalda. The horse was to be fastened behind. &quot;We
+shall go down hill,&quot; said the man, &quot;and that is light work for my
+horses.&quot; The Knight placed himself by Bertalda, his horse quietly
+followed them, and the driver walked by steadily and carefully.</p>
+
+<p>In the deep stillness of night, while the storm growled more and more
+distant, and in the consciousness of safety and easy progress,
+Huldbrand and Bertalda insensibly got into confidential discourse. He
+tenderly reproached her for having so hastily fled; she excused
+herself with bashful emotions, and through all she said it appeared
+most clearly that her heart was all his own. Huldbrand was too much
+engrossed by the expression of her words to attend to their apparent
+meaning, and he only replied to the former. Upon this, the wagoner
+cried out in a voice that rent the air, &quot;Now my horses, up with you;
+show us what you are made of, my fine fellows.&quot; The Knight put out his
+head and saw the horses treading or rather swimming through the
+foaming waters, while the wheels whirled loudly and rapidly like those
+of a water-mill, and the wagoner was standing upon the top of his
+wagon, overlooking the floods. &quot;Why, what road is this? It will take
+us into the middle of the stream,&quot; cried Huldbrand. &quot;No, sir,&quot; cried
+the driver laughing; &quot;it is just the other way. The stream is coming
+into the middle of the road. Look round, and see how it is all
+flooded.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In fact, the whole valley was now heaving with waves, that had swollen
+rapidly to a great height. &quot;This must be K&uuml;hleborn, the wicked sprite,
+trying to drown us!&quot; cried the Knight. &quot;Have you no charm to keep him
+off, friend?&quot;&mdash;&quot;I do know of one,&quot; said the driver, &quot;but I can't and
+won't make use of it, till you know who I am.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Is this a time for
+riddles?&quot; shouted the Knight; &quot;the flood is rising every moment, and
+what care I to know who you are?&quot;&mdash;&quot;It rather concerns you, however,
+to know,&quot; said the driver, &quot;for I am K&uuml;hleborn.&quot; And he grinned
+hideously into the wagon&mdash;which was now a wagon no longer, nor were
+the horses horses; but all dissolved into foaming waves; the wagoner
+himself shot up into a giant Waterspout, bore down the struggling
+horse into the flood, and, towering over the heads of the hapless
+pair, till he had swelled into a watery fountain, he would have
+swallowed them up the next moment.</p>
+
+<p>But now the sweet voice of Undine was heard above the wild uproar;
+the moon shone out between the clouds, and at the same instant Undine
+came into sight, upon the high grounds above them. She addressed
+K&uuml;hleborn in a commanding tone, the huge wave laid itself down,
+muttering and murmuring; the waters rippled gently away in the moon's
+soft light, and Undine alighted like a white dove from her airy
+height, and led them to a soft green spot on the hillside, where she
+refreshed their jaded spirits with choice food. She then helped
+Bertalda to mount her own white palfrey, and at length they all three
+reached the Castle of Ringstetten in safety.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XV.&mdash;THE TRIP TO VIENNA</h4>
+
+<p>For some time after this adventure they led a quiet and peaceful life
+in the castle. The Knight was deeply touched by his wife's angelic
+goodness, so signally displayed by her pursuing and saving them in the
+Black Valley, where their lives were threatened by K&uuml;hleborn. Undine
+herself was happy in the peace of an approving conscience; besides
+that, many a gleam of hope now brightened her path, as her husband's
+love and confidence seemed to revive; Bertalda meanwhile was grateful,
+modest, and timid, without claiming any merit for being so. If either
+of her companions alluded to the sealing up of the fountain, or the
+adventures in the Black Valley, she would implore them to spare her on
+those subjects, because she could not think of the fountain without a
+blush, nor the valley without a shudder. She was therefore told
+nothing further; indeed, what would have been the use of enlightening
+her? Nothing could add to the peace and happiness which had taken up
+their abode in the Castle of Ringstetten; they enjoyed the present in
+full security, and the future lay before them, all blooming with fair
+fruits and flowers.</p>
+
+<p>The winter had gone by without any interruption to their social
+comfort; and spring, with her young green shoots and bright blue
+skies, began to smile upon men; their hearts felt light, like the
+young season, and from its returning birds of passage, they caught a
+fancy to travel. One day as they were walking together near the
+sources of the Danube, Huldbrand fell into talk about the glories of
+that noble river, how proudly he flowed on, through fruitful lands, to
+the spot where the majestic city of Vienna crowned his banks, and how
+every mile of his course was marked by fresh grandeur and beauty. &quot;How
+delightful it would be to follow his course down to Vienna!&quot; cried
+Bertalda; but instantly relapsing into her timid, chastened manner,
+she blushed and was silent. This touched Undine, and in her eagerness
+to give her friend pleasure, she said: &quot;And why should we not take the
+trip?&quot; Bertalda jumped for joy, and their fancy began to paint this
+pleasant recreation in the brightest colours. Huldbrand encouraged
+them cheerfully, but whispered once to Undine: &quot;But, should not we get
+within K&uuml;hleborn's power again, down there?&quot;&mdash;&quot;Let him come,&quot; said
+she, laughing; &quot;I shall be with you, and in my presence he durst not
+attempt any mischief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the only possible objection seemed removed and they prepared for
+departure, and were soon sailing along, full of spirit and of gay
+hopes. But, O Man! it is not for thee to wonder when the course of
+events differs widely from the paintings of thy fancy. The treacherous
+foe, that lures us to our ruin, lulls his victim to rest with sweet
+music and golden dreams. Our guardian angel, on the contrary, will
+often rouse us by a sharp and awakening blow.</p>
+
+<p>The first days they spent on the Danube were days of extraordinary
+enjoyment. The further they floated down the proud stream the nobler
+and fairer grew the prospect. But, just as they had reached a most
+lovely district, the first sight of which had promised them great
+delight, the unruly K&uuml;hleborn began openly to give signs of his
+presence and power. At first they were only sportive tricks, because,
+whenever he ruffled the stream and raised the wind, Undine repressed
+him by a word or two, and made him again subside at once; but his
+attempts soon began again, and again, Undine was obliged to warn him
+off; so that the pleasure of the little party was grievously
+disturbed. To make things worse, the watermen would mutter many a dark
+surmise into each other's ears, and cast strange looks at the three
+gentlefolks, whose very servants began to feel suspicion, and to show
+distrust of their lord. Huldbrand said to himself more than once,
+&quot;This comes of uniting with other than one's like: a son of earth may
+not marry a wondrous maid of ocean.&quot; To justify himself (as we all
+love to do) he would add, &quot;But I did not know she was a maid of ocean.
+If I am to be pursued and fettered wherever I go by the mad freaks of
+her relations, mine is the misfortune, not the fault.&quot; Such
+reflections somewhat checked his self-reproaches; but they made him
+the more disposed to accuse, nay, even to hate Undine. Already he
+began to scowl upon her, and the poor wife understood but too well his
+meaning. Exhausted by this, and by her constant exertions against
+K&uuml;hleborn, she sank back one evening in the boat, and was lulled by
+its gentle motion into a deep sleep.</p>
+
+<p>But no sooner were her eyes closed, than everyone in the boat thought
+he saw, just opposite his own eyes, a terrific human head rising above
+the water; not like the head of a swimmer, but planted upright on the
+surface of the river, and keeping pace with the boat. Each turned to
+his neighbour to show him the cause of his terror, and found him
+looking equally frightened, but pointing in a different direction,
+where the half-laughing, half-scowling goblin met his eyes. When at
+length they tried to explain the matter to each other, crying out,
+&quot;Look there; no, there!&quot; each of them suddenly perceived the other's
+phantom, and the water round the boat appeared all alive with ghastly
+monsters. The cry which burst from every mouth awakened Undine. Before
+the light of her beaming eyes the horde of misshapen faces vanished.
+But Huldbrand was quite exasperated by these fiendish tricks and would
+have burst into loud imprecations, had not Undine whispered in the
+most beseeching manner, &quot;For God's sake, my own lord, be patient now;
+remember we are on the water.&quot; The Knight kept down his anger, and
+soon sank into thought. Presently Undine whispered to him: &quot;My love,
+had not we better give up the foolish journey, and go home to
+Ringstetten in comfort?&quot; But Huldbrand muttered angrily, &quot;Then I am to
+be kept a prisoner in my own castle? and even there I may not breathe
+freely unless the fountain is sealed up? Would to Heaven the absurd
+connection&quot;&mdash;But Undine pressed her soft hand gently upon his lips.
+And he held his peace, and mused upon all she had previously told him.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Bertalda had yielded herself up to many and strange
+reflections. She knew something of Undine's origin, but not all! and
+K&uuml;hleborn in particular was only a fearful but vague image in her
+mind; she had not even once heard his name. And as she pondered these
+wonderful subjects, she half unconsciously took off a golden necklace
+which Huldbrand had bought for her of a travelling jeweller a few days
+before; she held it close to the surface of the river playing with
+it, and dreamily watching the golden gleam that it shed on the glassy
+water. Suddenly a large hand came up out of the Danube, snatched the
+necklace, and ducked under with it. Bertalda screamed aloud, and was
+answered by a laugh of scorn from the depths below. And now the Knight
+could contain himself no longer. Starting up, he gave loose to his
+fury, loading with imprecations those who chose to break into his
+family and private life, and challenging them&mdash;were they goblins or
+sirens&mdash;to meet his good sword. Bertalda continued to weep over the
+loss of her beloved jewel, and her tears were as oil to the flames of
+his wrath, while Undine kept her hand dipped into the water with a
+ceaseless low murmur, only once or twice interrupting her mysterious
+whispers to say to her husband in tones of entreaty, &quot;Dearest love,
+speak not roughly to me here; say whatever you will, only spare me
+here; you know why!&quot; and he still restrained his tongue (which
+stammered with passion) from saying a word directly against her. She
+soon drew her hand from under the water, bringing up a beautiful coral
+necklace whose glitter dazzled them all. &quot;Take it,&quot; said she, offering
+it kindly to Bertalda; &quot;I have sent for this, instead of the one you
+lost; do not grieve any more, my poor child.&quot; But Huldbrand darted
+forward, snatched the shining gift from Undine's hand, hurled it again
+into the water, and roared furiously, &quot;So you still have intercourse
+with them? In the name of sorcery, go back to them with all your
+baubles, and leave us men in peace, witch as you are!&quot; With eyes
+aghast, yet streaming with tears, poor Undine gazed at him, still
+holding out the hand which had so lovingly presented to Bertalda the
+bright jewel. Then she wept more and more, like a sorely injured,
+innocent child. And at length she said faintly, &quot;Farewell, my dearest;
+farewell! They shall not lay a finger on thee; only be true to me,
+that I may still guard thee from them. But I, alas! I must be gone;
+all this bright morning of life is over. Woe, woe is me! what hast
+thou done? woe, woe!&quot; And she slipped out of the boat and passed away.
+Whether she went down into the river, or flowed away with it, none
+could tell; it was like both and yet like neither. She soon mingled
+with the waters of the Danube, and nothing was to be heard but the
+sobbing whispers of the stream as it washed against the boat, seeming
+to say distinctly, &quot;Woe, woe! Oh be true to me! woe, woe!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Huldbrand lay flat in the boat, drowned in tears, till a deep swoon
+came to the unhappy man's relief, and steeped him in oblivion.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XVI.&mdash;OF WHAT BEFELL HULDBRAND AFTERWARDS</h4>
+
+<p>Shall we say, Alas, or thank God, that our grief is so often
+transient? I speak of such grief as has its source in the wellsprings
+of life itself, and seems so identified with our lost friend, as
+almost to fill up the void he has left; and his hallowed image seems
+fixed within the sanctuary of our soul, until the signal of our
+release comes, and sets us free to join him! In truth, a good man will
+not suffer this sanctuary to be disturbed; yet even with him, it is
+not the first, the all-engrossing sorrow which abides. New objects
+will intermingle, and we are compelled to draw from our grief itself a
+fresh proof of the perishableness of earthly things: alas, then, that
+our grief is transient!</p>
+
+<p>So it was with the Lord of Ringstetten; whether for his weal or woe,
+the sequel of this story will show us. At first, he could do nothing
+but weep abundantly, as his poor kind Undine had wept when he snatched
+from her the beautiful gift, which she thought would have comforted
+and pleased them so much. He would then stretch out his hand as she
+had done, and burst into tears afresh, like her. He secretly hoped
+that he might end by altogether dissolving in tears: and are there not
+many whose minds have been visited by the same painfully pleasing
+thought, at some season of great sorrow? Bertalda wept with him, and
+they lived quietly together at Ringstetten a long while, cherishing
+the memory of Undine, and seeming to have forgotten their own previous
+attachment. Moreover, the gentle Undine often appeared to Huldbrand in
+his dreams; she would caress him meekly and fondly, and depart again
+with tearful resignation, so that when he awoke, he doubted whose
+tears they were that bedewed his face&mdash;were they hers, or only his
+own?</p>
+
+<p>But as time went on these visions became less frequent, and the
+Knight's grief milder; still he might perhaps have spent the rest of
+his days contentedly, devoting himself to the memory of Undine, and
+keeping it alive by talking of her, had not the old Fisherman
+unexpectedly made his appearance, and laid his serious commands upon
+Bertalda, his daughter, to return home with him. The news of Undine's
+disappearance had reached him, and he would no longer suffer Bertalda
+to remain in the castle alone with its lord. &quot;I do not ask whether my
+daughter cares for me or not,&quot; said he; &quot;her character is at stake,
+and where that is the case, nothing else is worth considering.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This summons from the old man, and the prospect of utter loneliness
+amid the halls and long galleries of the castle after Bertalda's
+departure, revived in Huldbrand's heart the feeling that had lain
+dormant, and as it were buried under his mourning for Undine, namely,
+his love for the fair Bertalda. The Fisherman had many objections to
+their marriage; Undine had been very dear to the old man and he
+thought it hardly certain yet that his lost darling was really dead.
+But, if her corpse were indeed lying stiff and cold in the bed of the
+Danube, or floating down its stream to the distant ocean, then
+Bertalda ought to reproach herself for her death, and it ill became
+her to take the place of her poor victim. However, the Fisherman was
+very fond of Huldbrand also; the entreaties of his daughter, who was
+now grown much more gentle and submissive, had their effect, and it
+seems that he did yield his consent at last; for he remained peaceably
+at the castle, and an express was sent for Father Heilmann, who in
+earlier, happier days had blessed Undine's and Huldbrand's union, that
+he might officiate at the Knight's second marriage.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had the holy man read the Lord of Ringstetten's letter than
+he set forth on his way thither, with far greater speed than the
+messenger had used to reach him. If his straining haste took away his
+breath, or he felt his aged limbs ache with fatigue, he would say to
+himself: &quot;I may be in time to prevent a wicked deed; sink not till
+thou hast reached the goal, my withered frame!&quot; And so he exerted
+himself afresh, and pushed on, without flagging or halting, till late
+one evening he entered the shady court of Ringstetten.</p>
+
+<p>The lovers were sitting hand in hand under a tree, with the thoughtful
+old man near them; as soon as they saw Father Heilmann, they rose
+eagerly and advanced to meet him. But he, scarcely noticing their
+civilities, begged the Knight to come with him into the castle. As he
+stared at this request, and hesitated to comply, the pious old Priest
+said, &quot;Why, indeed, should I speak to you alone, my Lord of
+Ringstetten? What I have to say equally concerns the Fisherman and
+Bertalda; and as they must sooner or later know it, it had better be
+said now. How can you be certain, Lord Huldbrand, that your own wife
+is indeed dead? For myself, I can hardly think so. I will not venture
+to speak of things relating to her wondrous nature; in truth I have
+no clear knowledge about it. But a godly and faithful wife she proved
+herself, beyond all about. And these fourteen nights has she come to
+my bedside in dreams, wringing her poor hands in anguish, and sighing
+out, 'Oh stop him, dear father! I am yet alive! Oh save his life! Oh
+save his soul!' I understood not the meaning of the vision till your
+messenger came; and I have now hastened hither, not to join but to
+part those hands, which may not be united in holy wedlock. Part from
+her, Huldbrand! Part from him, Bertalda! He belongs to another; see
+you not how his cheek turns pale at the thought of his departed wife?
+Those are not the looks of a bridegroom, and the spirit tells me this.
+If thou leavest him not now, there is joy for thee no more.&quot; They all
+three felt at the bottom of their hearts that Father Heilmann's words
+were true but they would not yield to them. Even the old Fisherman was
+so blinded as to think that what had been settled between them for so
+many days, could not now be relinquished. So they resisted the
+Priest's warnings, and urged the fulfilment of their wishes with
+headlong, gloomy determination, till Father Heilmann departed with a
+melancholy shake of the head, without accepting even for one night
+their proffered hospitalities, or tasting any of the refreshments they
+set before him. But Huldbrand persuaded himself that the old Priest
+was a weak dotard; and early next morning he sent to a monk from the
+nearest cloister, who readily promised to come and marry them in a few
+days.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XVII.&mdash;THE KNIGHT'S DREAM</h4>
+
+<p>The morning twilight was beginning to dawn, and the Knight lay
+half-awake on his couch. Whenever he dropped asleep he was scared by
+mysterious terrors, and started up as if sleep were peopled by
+phantoms. If he woke up in earnest, he felt himself fanned all around
+by what seemed like swans' wings, and soothed by watery airs, which
+lulled him back again into the half-unconscious, twilight state. At
+length he did fall asleep and fancied himself lifted by swans on their
+soft wings, and carried far away over lands and seas, all to the sound
+of their sweetest melody. &quot;Swans singing! swans singing!&quot; thought he
+continually; &quot;is not that the strain of Death?&quot; Presently he found
+himself hovering above a vast sea. A swan warbled in his ear that it
+was the Mediterranean; and as he looked down into the deep it became
+like clear crystal, transparent to the bottom. This rejoiced him much,
+for he could see Undine sitting in a brilliant hall of crystal.</p>
+
+<p>She was shedding tears, indeed, and looked sadly changed since the
+happy times which they had spent together at Ringstetten; happiest at
+first, but happy also a short time since, just before the fatal sail
+on the Danube. The contrast struck Huldbrand deeply; but Undine did
+not seem to be aware of his presence. K&uuml;hleborn soon came up to her,
+and began rating her for weeping. She composed herself, and looked at
+him with a firmness and dignity, before which he almost quailed.
+&quot;Though I am condemned to live under these deep waters,&quot; said she, &quot;I
+have brought my soul with me; therefore my tears cannot be understood
+by thee. But to me they are blessings, like everything that belongs to
+a loving soul.&quot; He shook his head incredulously, and said, after a
+pause: &quot;Nevertheless, niece, you are still subject to the laws of our
+element; and you know you must execute sentence of death upon him as
+soon as he marries again, and breaks faith with you.&quot;&mdash;&quot;To this hour
+he is a widower,&quot; said Undine, &quot;and loves and mourns me truly.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Ah,
+but he will be bridegroom soon,&quot; said K&uuml;hleborn with a sneer; &quot;wait a
+couple of days only; and the marriage blessing will have been given,
+and you must go up and put the criminal to death.&quot;&mdash;&quot;I cannot!&quot;
+answered the smiling Undine. &quot;I have had the fountain sealed up,
+against myself and my whole race.&quot; &quot;But suppose he leaves his castle,&quot;
+said K&uuml;hleborn, &quot;or forgets himself so far as to let them set the
+fountain 'free,' for he thinks mighty little of those matters.&quot;&mdash;&quot;And
+that is why,&quot; said Undine, still smiling through her tears, &quot;that is
+why his spirit hovers at this moment over the Mediterranean, and
+listens to our conversation as in a dream. I have contrived it on
+purpose, that he may take warning.&quot; On hearing this K&uuml;hleborn looked
+up angrily at the Knight, scowled at him, stamped, and then shot
+upward through the waves like an arrow. His fury seemed to make him
+expand into a whale. Again the swans began to warble, to wave their
+wings, and to fly; the Knight felt himself borne high over alps and
+rivers, till he was deposited in the Castle of Ringstetten, and awoke
+in his bed.</p>
+
+<p>He did awake in his bed, just as one of his squires entered the room,
+and told him that Father Heilmann was still lingering near the castle;
+for he had found him the evening before in the forest, living in a
+shed he had made for himself with branches and moss. On being asked
+what he was staying for since he had refused to bless the betrothed
+couple? He answered, &quot;It is not the wedded only who stand in need of
+prayer, and though I came not for the bridal, there may yet be work
+for me of another kind. We must be prepared for everything. Sometimes
+marriage and mourning are not so far apart; and he who does not
+wilfully close his eyes may perceive it.&quot; The Knight built all manner
+of strange conjectures upon these words, and upon his dream. But if
+once a man has formed a settled purpose, it is hard indeed to shake
+it. The end of this was, that their plans remained unchanged.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XVIII.&mdash;OF THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND'S SECOND BRIDAL</h4>
+
+<p>Were I to tell you how the wedding-day at Ringstetten passed, you
+might imagine yourself contemplating a glittering heap of gay objects,
+with a black crape thrown over them, through which the splendid
+pageant, instead of delighting the eye, would look like a mockery of
+all earthly joys. Not that the festive meeting was disturbed by any
+spectral apparitions: we have seen that the castle was safe from any
+intrusion of the malicious water-sprites. But the Knight, the
+Fisherman, and all the guests were haunted by a feeling that the chief
+person, the soul of the feast, was missing; and who was she but the
+gentle, beloved Undine? As often as they heard a door open, every eye
+turned involuntarily toward it, and when nothing ensued but the
+entrance of the steward with some more dishes, or of the cupbearer
+with a fresh supply of rich wine, the guests would look sad and blank,
+and the sparks of gayety kindled by the light jest or the cheerful
+discourse, were quenched in the damp of melancholy recollections. The
+bride was the most thoughtless, and consequently the most cheerful
+person present; but even she, at moments, felt it unnatural to be
+sitting at the head of the table, decked out in her wreath of green
+and her embroidery of gold, while Undine's corpse was lying cold and
+stiff in the bed of the Danube, or floating down its stream to the
+ocean. For, ever since her father had used these words, they had been
+ringing in her ears, and to-day especially they pursued her without
+ceasing.</p>
+
+<p>The party broke up before night had closed in; not, as usual,
+dispersed by the eager impatience of the bridegroom to be alone with
+his bride; but dropping off listlessly, as a general gloom spread over
+the assembly; Bertalda was followed to her dressing-room by her women
+only, and the Knight by his pages. At this gloomy feast, there was no
+question of the gay and sportive train of bridesmaids and young men,
+who usually attend the wedded pair.</p>
+
+<p>Bertalda tried to call up brighter thoughts; she bade her women
+display before her a splendid set of jewels, the gift of Huldbrand,
+together with her richest robes and veils, that she might select the
+gayest and handsomest dress for the morrow. Her maids seized the
+opportunity of wishing their young mistress all manner of joy, nor did
+they fail to extol the beauty of the bride to the skies. Bertalda,
+however, glanced at herself in the glass, and sighed: &quot;Ah, but look at
+the freckles just here, on my throat!&quot; They looked and found it was
+indeed so, but called them beauty spots that would only enhance the
+fairness of her delicate skin. Bertalda shook her head, and replied,
+&quot;Still it is a blemish, and I once might have cured it!&quot; said she with
+a deep sigh. &quot;But the fountain in the court is stopped up&mdash;that
+fountain which used to supply me with precious, beautifying water. If
+I could but get one jugful to-day!&quot;&mdash;&quot;Is that all?&quot; cried an
+obsequious attendant, and slipped out of the room. &quot;Why, she will not
+be so mad,&quot; asked Bertalda in a tone of complacent surprise, &quot;as to
+make them raise the stone this very night?&quot; And now she heard men's
+footsteps crossing the court; and on looking down from her window, she
+saw the officious handmaid conducting them straight to the fountain;
+they carried levers and other tools upon their shoulders. &quot;Well, it
+is my will to be sure,&quot; said Bertalda, smiling, &quot;provided they are not
+too long about it.&quot; And, elated by the thought that a hint from her
+could now effect what had once been denied to her entreaties, she
+watched the progress of the work in the moonlit court below.</p>
+
+<p>The men began straining themselves to lift the huge stone;
+occasionally a sigh was heard, as someone recollected that they were
+now reversing their dear lady's commands. But the task proved lighter
+than they had expected. Some power from beneath seemed to second their
+efforts, and help the stone upward. &quot;Why!&quot; said the astonished workmen
+to each other, &quot;it feels as if the spring below had turned into a
+waterspout.&quot; More and more did the stone heave, till, without any
+impulse from the men it rolled heavily along the pavement with a
+hollow sound. But, from the mouth of the spring arose, slowly and
+solemnly, what looked like a column of water; at first they thought
+so, but presently saw that it was no waterspout, but the figure of a
+pale woman, veiled in white. She was weeping abundantly, wringing her
+hands and clasping them over her head, while she proceeded with slow
+and measured step toward the castle. The crowd of servants fell back
+from the spot; while, pale and aghast, the bride and her women looked
+on from the window.</p>
+
+<p>When the figure had arrived just under that window, she raised her
+tearful face for a moment, and Bertalda thought she recognised
+Undine's pale features through the veil. The shadowy form moved on
+slowly and reluctantly, like one sent to execution. Bertalda screamed
+out that the Knight must be called; no one durst stir a foot, and the
+bride herself kept silence, frightened at the sound of her own voice.</p>
+
+<p>While these remained at the window, as if rooted to the spot, the
+mysterious visitor had entered the castle, and passed up the
+well-known stairs, and through the familiar rooms, still weeping
+silently. Alas! how differently had she trodden those floors in days
+gone by!</p>
+
+<p>The Knight had now dismissed his train; half-undressed, and in a
+dejected mood, he was standing near a large mirror, by the light of a
+dim taper. He heard the door tapped by a soft, soft touch. It was thus
+Undine had been wont to knock, when she meant to steal upon him
+playfully. &quot;It is all fancy!&quot; thought he. &quot;The bridal bed awaits
+me.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Yes, but it is a cold one,&quot; said a weeping voice from without;
+and the mirror then showed him the door opening slowly, and the white
+form coming in, and closing the door gently behind her. &quot;They have
+opened the mouth of the spring,&quot; murmured she; &quot;and now I am come, and
+now must thou die.&quot; His beating heart told him this was indeed true;
+but he pressed his hands over his eyes, and said: &quot;Do not bewilder me
+with terror in my last moments. If thy veil conceals the features of a
+spectre, hide them from me still, and let me die in peace.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Alas!&quot;
+rejoined the forlorn one, &quot;wilt thou not look upon me once again? I am
+fair, as when thou didst woo me on the promontory.&quot;&mdash;&quot;Oh, could that
+be true!&quot; sighed Huldbrand, &quot;and if I might die in thy embrace!&quot;&mdash;&quot;Be
+it so, my dearest,&quot; said she. And she raised her veil, and the
+heavenly radiance of her sweet countenance beamed upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Trembling, at once with love and awe, the Knight approached her; she
+received him with a tender embrace; but instead of relaxing her hold,
+she pressed him more closely to her heart, and wept as if her soul
+would pour itself out. Drowned in her tears and his own, Huldbrand
+felt his heart sink within him, and at last he fell lifeless from the
+fond arms of Undine upon his pillow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have wept him to death!&quot; said she to the pages, whom she passed in
+the ante-chamber; and she glided slowly through the crowd, and went
+back to the fountain.</p>
+
+
+<h4>XIX.&mdash;HOW THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND WAS INTERRED</h4>
+
+<p>Father Heilmann had returned to the castle, as soon as he heard of the
+Lord of Ringstetten's death, and he appeared there just after the
+monk, who had married the hapless pair, had fled full of alarm and
+horror. &quot;It is well,&quot; answered Heilmann, when told this: &quot;now is the
+time for my office; I want no assistant.&quot; He addressed spiritual
+exhortations to the widowed bride, but little impression could be made
+on so worldly and thoughtless a mind. The old Fisherman, although
+grieved to the heart, resigned himself more readily to the awful
+dispensation; and when Bertalda kept calling Undine a witch and a
+murderer, the old man calmly answered: &quot;The stroke could not be turned
+away. For my part, I see only the hand of God therein; and none
+grieved more deeply over Huldbrand's sentence, than she who was doomed
+to inflict it, the poor forsaken Undine!&quot; And he helped to arrange the
+funeral ceremonies in a manner suitable to the high rank of the dead.
+He was to be buried in a neighbouring hamlet, whose churchyard
+contained the graves of all his ancestors, and which he had himself
+enriched with many noble gifts. His helmet and coat of arms lay upon
+the coffin, about to be lowered into earth with his mortal remains;
+for Lord Huldbrand of Ringstetten was the last of his race.</p>
+
+<p>The mourners began their dismal procession, and the sound of their
+solemn dirge rose into the calm blue depths of heaven. Heilmann walked
+first, bearing on high a crucifix, and the bereaved Bertalda followed
+leaning on her aged father. Suddenly, amid the crowd of mourners who
+composed the widow's train, appeared a snow-white figure, deeply
+veiled, with hands uplifted in an attitude of intense grief. Those
+that stood near her felt a shudder creep over them; they shrank back,
+and thus increased the alarm of those whom the stranger next
+approached, so that confusion gradually spread itself through the
+whole train. Here and there was to be found a soldier bold enough to
+address the figure, and attempt to drive her away; but she always
+eluded their grasp, and the next moment reappeared among the rest,
+moving along with slow and solemn step. At length, when the attendants
+had all fallen back, she found herself close behind Bertalda, and now
+slackened her pace to the very slowest measure, so that the widow was
+not aware of her presence. No one disturbed her again, while she
+meekly and reverently glided on behind her.</p>
+
+<p>So they advanced till they reached the churchyard, when the whole
+procession formed a circle round the open grave. Bertalda then
+discovered the unbidden guest, and half-angry, half-frightened, she
+forbade her to come near the Knight's resting-place. But the veiled
+form gently shook her head, and extended her hands in humble entreaty;
+this gesture reminded Bertalda of poor Undine, when she gave her the
+coral necklace on the Danube, and she could not but weep. Father
+Heilmann enjoined silence; for they had begun to heap earth over the
+grave, and were about to offer up solemn prayers around it. Bertalda
+knelt down in silence, and all her followers did the same. When they
+rose, lo, the white form had vanished! and on the spot where she had
+knelt, a bright silvery brook now gushed out of the turf, and flowed
+round the Knight's tomb, till it had almost wholly encircled it; then
+it ran further on, and emptied itself into a shady pool which bounded
+one side of the churchyard. From that time forth, the villagers are
+said to have shown travellers this clear spring, and they still
+believe it to be the poor forsaken Undine, who continues thus to twine
+her arms round her beloved lord.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="V" id="V">V</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE STORY OF RUTH</h2>
+
+
+<p>It came to pass, in the days when the judges ruled, that there was a
+famine in the land. And a certain man of Bethlehem-judah went to
+sojourn in the country of Moab&mdash;he and his wife and his two sons. And
+the name of the man was Elimelech, and the name of his wife Naomi, and
+the names of his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, Ephrathites of
+Bethlehem-judah. And they came into the country of Moab, and continued
+there.</p>
+
+<p>And Elimelech, Naomi's husband, died; and she was left and her two
+sons. And they took them wives of the women of Moab: the name of the
+one was Orpah, and the name of the other was Ruth. And they dwelled
+there about ten years.</p>
+
+<p>And Mahlon and Chilion died also, both of them; and the woman was left
+of her two sons and her husband. Then she arose with her
+daughters-in-law, that she might return from the country of Moab; for
+she had heard in the country of Moab how that the Lord had visited his
+people in giving them bread. Wherefore she went forth out of the place
+where she was, and her two daughters-in-law with her; and they went on
+the way to return unto the land of Judah.</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi said unto her two daughters-in-law, &quot;Go, return each to her
+mother's house. The Lord deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with
+the dead and with me. The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each
+of you in this house of her husband.&quot; Then she kissed them.</p>
+
+<p>And they lifted up their voice and wept; and they said unto her,
+&quot;Surely, we will return with thee unto thy people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi said, &quot;Turn again, my daughters; why will ye go with me?
+Turn again, my daughters, go your way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they lifted up their voice and wept again. And Orpah kissed her
+mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her.</p>
+
+<p>And she said, &quot;Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people
+and unto her gods! Return thou after thy sister-in-law.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Ruth said, &quot;Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from
+following after thee. For whither thou goest I will go, and where thou
+lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
+God: where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord
+do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Naomi saw that Ruth was steadfastly minded to go with her, then
+she left speaking unto her. So they two went until they came to
+Bethlehem.</p>
+
+<p>And it came to pass, when they were come to Bethlehem, that all the
+city was moved about them, and they said, &quot;Is this Naomi?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she said unto them, &quot;Call me not Naomi [pleasant], call me Mara
+[bitter]; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went
+out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty. Why then call
+ye me Naomi, seeing that the Lord hath testified against me, and the
+Almighty hath afflicted me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter-in-law, with
+her, which returned out of the country of Moab; and they came to
+Bethlehem in the beginning of barley-harvest.</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi had a kinsman of her husband's, a mighty man of wealth, of
+the family of Elimelech, and his name was Boaz.</p>
+
+<p>And Ruth said unto Naomi: &quot;Let me now go to the field and glean ears
+of corn after him in whose sight I shall find grace.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi said unto her, &quot;Go, my daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she went, and came, and gleaned in the field after the reapers;
+and her hap was to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz,
+who was of the kindred of Elimelech.</p>
+
+<p>And, behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem and said unto the reapers, &quot;The
+Lord be with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they answered him, &quot;The Lord bless thee!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then said Boaz unto his servant that was set over the reapers, &quot;Whose
+damsel is this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, &quot;It
+is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country
+of Moab. And she said, 'I pray you, let me glean and gather after the
+reapers among the sheaves.' So she came, and hath continued even from
+the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then said Boaz unto Ruth, &quot;Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to
+glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by
+my maidens; let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go
+thou after them. Have I not charged the young men that they shall not
+touch thee? And when thou art a thirst, go unto the vessels, and drink
+of that which the young men have drawn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground, and said
+unto him, &quot;Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest
+take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Boaz answered and said unto her, &quot;It hath fully been showed me,
+all that thou hast done unto thy mother-in-law, since the death of
+thine husband; and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother and
+the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou
+knewest not heretofore. The Lord recompense thy work, and a full
+reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou
+art come to trust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she said, &quot;Let me find favour in thy sight, my lord; for that
+thou hast comforted me, and for that thou hast spoken friendly unto
+thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Boaz said unto her at meal-time, &quot;Come thou hither, and eat of the
+bread and dip thy morsel in the vinegar.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she sat beside the reapers, and he reached her parched corn; and
+she did eat, and was sufficed, and left.</p>
+
+<p>And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men,
+saying, &quot;Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not;
+and let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her, and leave
+them that she may glean them, and rebuke her not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had
+gleaned, and it was about an ephah of barley. And she took it up and
+went into the city; and her mother-in-law saw what she had gleaned,
+and she brought forth and gave to her that she had reserved after she
+was sufficed.</p>
+
+<p>And her mother-in-law said unto her, &quot;Where hast thou gleaned to-day,
+and where wroughtest thou? Blessed be he that did take knowledge of
+thee!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she showed her mother-in-law with whom she had wrought, and said,
+&quot;The man's name with whom I wrought to-day is Boaz.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi said unto her daughter-in-law, &quot;Blessed be he of the Lord,
+who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead. The
+man is near of kin unto us; one of our next kinsmen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Ruth the Moabitess said, &quot;He said unto me also, 'Thou shalt keep
+fast by my young men until they have ended all my harvest.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi said unto Ruth her daughter-in-law, &quot;It is good, my
+daughter, that thou go out with his maidens, that they meet thee not
+in any other field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So she kept fast by the maidens of Boaz to glean unto the end of
+barley-harvest and of wheat-harvest, and dwelt with her mother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>Then Naomi her mother-in-law said unto her, &quot;My daughter, shall I not
+seek rest for thee, that it may be well with thee? And now is not Boaz
+of our kindred, with whose maidens thou wast? Behold, he winnoweth
+barley to-night in the threshing-floor. Wash thyself, therefore, and
+anoint thee, and put thy raiment upon thee, and get thee down to the
+floor; but make not thyself known unto the man, until he shall have
+done eating and drinking. And it shall be, when he lieth down, that
+thou shalt mark the place where he shall lie; and thou shalt go in and
+uncover his feet and lay thee down; and he will tell thee what thou
+shalt do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Ruth said unto her, &quot;All that thou sayest unto me I will do.&quot; And
+she went down unto the floor, and did according to all that her
+mother-in-law bade her.</p>
+
+<p>And when Boaz had eaten and drunk, and his heart was merry, he went to
+lie down at the end of the heap of corn. And she came softly and
+uncovered his feet, and laid her down.</p>
+
+<p>And it came to pass at midnight, that the man was afraid, and turned
+himself; and behold! a woman lay at his feet. And he said, &quot;Who art
+thou?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she answered, &quot;I am Ruth, thine handmaid. Spread therefore thy
+skirt over thine handmaid; for thou art a near kinsman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;Blessed be thou of the Lord, my daughter; for thou hast
+showed more kindness in the latter end than in the beginning; inasmuch
+as thou followedst not young men, whether poor or rich. And now, my
+daughter, fear not; I will do to thee all that thou requirest; for all
+the city of my people doth know that thou art a virtuous woman. And
+now it is true that I am thy near kinsman; howbeit, there is a kinsman
+nearer than I. Tarry this night, and it shall be, in the morning, that
+if he will perform unto thee the part of a kinsman, well; let him do
+the kinsman's part; but if he will not do the part of a kinsman to
+thee, then will I do the part of a kinsman to thee, as the Lord
+liveth. Lie down until the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she lay at his feet until the morning. And she rose up before one
+could know another.</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;Let it not be known that a woman came into the floor.&quot;
+Also he said, &quot;Bring the veil that thou hast upon thee and hold it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And when she held it he measured six measures of barley and laid it on
+her.</p>
+
+<p>And she went into the city, and when she came to her mother-in-law she
+said, &quot;Who art thou, my daughter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And she told her all that the man had done to her; and she said,
+&quot;These six measures of barley gave he me; for he said to me, 'Go not
+empty unto thy mother-in-law.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Naomi said, &quot;Sit still, my daughter, until thou know how the
+matter will fall; for the man will not be in rest until he have
+finished the thing this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then went Boaz up to the gate, and sat him down there. And, behold,
+the kinsman of whom Boaz spake came by, unto whom he said, &quot;Ho, such a
+one! turn aside, sit down here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he turned aside, and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>And Boaz took ten men of the elders of the city, and said, &quot;Sit ye
+down here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they sat down.</p>
+
+<p>And he said unto the kinsman, &quot;Naomi, that is come again out of the
+country of Moab, selleth a parcel of land which was our brother
+Elimelech's; and I thought to advertise thee, saying, 'Buy it before
+the inhabitants, and before the elders of my people. If thou wilt
+redeem it, redeem it; but if thou wilt not redeem it, then tell me,
+that I may know; for there is none to redeem it beside thee, and I am
+after thee.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he said, &quot;I will redeem it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then said Boaz, &quot;What day thou buyest the field of the hand of Naomi,
+thou must buy it also of Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of the dead, to
+raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the kinsman said, &quot;I cannot redeem it for myself, lest I mar mine
+own inheritance. Redeem thou my right to thyself; for I cannot redeem
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now this was the manner in former time in Israel, concerning redeeming
+and concerning changing, for to confirm all things: a man plucked off
+his shoe, and gave it to his neighbour; and this was a testimony in
+Israel. Therefore the kinsman said unto Boaz:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Buy it for thee.&quot; So he drew off his shoe.</p>
+
+<p>And Boaz said unto the elders and unto all the people, &quot;Ye are
+witnesses this day, that I have bought all that was Elimelech's, and
+all that was Chilion's and Mahlon's at the hand of Naomi. Moreover,
+Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of Mahlon, have I purchased to be my
+wife, to raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance, that the
+name of the dead be not cut off from among his brethren, and from the
+gate of his place: ye are witnesses this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And all the people that were in the gate, and the elders, said: &quot;We
+are witnesses. The Lord make the woman that is come into thine house
+like Rachel and like Leah, which two did build the house of Israel;
+and do thou worthily in Ephratah, and be famous in Bethlehem; and let
+thy house be like the house of Pharez, whom Tamar bare unto Judah, of
+the seed which the Lord shall give thee of this young woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his wife.</p>
+
+<p>And Ruth bare a son. And the women said unto Naomi, &quot;Blessed be the
+Lord, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that his
+name may be famous in Israel. And he shall be unto thee a restorer of
+thy life, and a nourisher of thine old age; for thy daughter-in-law,
+which loveth thee, which is better to thee than seven sons, hath borne
+him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Naomi took the child, and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse
+unto it. And the women, her neighbours, gave it a name, saying, &quot;There
+is a son born to Naomi&quot;! and they called his name Obed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI">VI</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE GREAT STONE FACE</h2>
+
+
+<p>One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little
+boy sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone
+Face. They had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be
+seen, though miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its
+features.</p>
+
+<p>And what was the Great Stone Face?</p>
+
+<p>Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so
+spacious that It contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these
+good people dwelt in log-huts, with the black forest all around them,
+on the steep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in
+comfortable farmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle
+slopes or level surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were
+congregated into populous villages, where some wild, highland rivulet,
+tumbling down from its birthplace in the upper mountain region, had
+been caught and tamed by human cunning, and compelled to turn the
+machinery of cotton-factories. The inhabitants of this valley, in
+short, were numerous, and of many modes of life. But all of them,
+grown people and children, had a kind of familiarity with the Great
+Stone Face, although some possessed the gift of distinguishing this
+grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many of their neighbours.
+The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of
+majestic playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain
+by some immense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a
+position as, when viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble
+the features of the human countenance. It seemed as if an enormous
+giant, or a Titan, had sculptured his own likeness on the precipice.
+There was the broad arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in height;
+the nose, with its long bridge; and the vast lips, which, if they
+could have spoken, would have rolled their thunder accents from one
+end of the valley to the other. True it is, that if the spectator
+approached too near, he lost the outline of the gigantic visage, and
+could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic rocks, piled in
+chaotic ruin one upon another. Retracing his steps, however, the
+wondrous features would again be seen; and the farther he withdrew
+from them, the more like a human face, with all its original divinity
+intact did they appear; until, as it grew dim in the distance, with
+the clouds and glorified vapour of the mountains clustering about it,
+the Great Stone Face seemed positively to be alive.</p>
+
+<p>It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood
+with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were
+noble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were
+the glow of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its
+affections, and had room for more. It was an education only to look at
+it. According to the belief of many people, the valley owed much of
+its fertility to this benign aspect that was continually beaming over
+it, illuminating the clouds, and infusing its tenderness into the
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their
+cottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it.
+The child's name was Ernest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, &quot;I wish
+that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must
+needs be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should
+love him dearly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If an old prophecy should come to pass,&quot; answered his mother, &quot;we may
+see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?&quot; eagerly inquired Ernest.
+&quot;Pray tell me all about it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her,
+when she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of
+things that were past, but of what was yet to come; a story,
+nevertheless, so very old, that even the Indians, who formerly
+inhabited this valley, had heard it from their forefathers, to whom,
+as they affirmed, it had been murmured by the mountain streams, and
+whispered by the wind among the tree-tops. The purport was, that, at
+some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, who was destined
+to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, and whose
+countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the Great
+Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise,
+in the ardour of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in
+this old prophecy. But others who had seen more of the world had
+watched and waited till they were weary, and had beheld no man with
+such a face, nor any man that proved to be much greater or nobler than
+his neighbours, concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all
+events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O mother, dear mother!&quot; cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his
+head, &quot;I do hope that I shall live to see him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it
+was wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So
+she only said to him, &quot;Perhaps you may.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was
+always in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He
+spent his childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was
+dutiful to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting
+her much with his little hands, and more with his loving heart. In
+this manner, from a happy yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a
+mild, quiet, unobtrusive boy, and sun-browned with labour in the
+fields, but with more intelligence brightening his aspect than is seen
+in many lads who have been taught at famous schools. Yet Ernest had
+had no teacher, save only that the Great Stone Face became one to him.
+When the toil of the day was over, he would gaze at it for hours,
+until he began to imagine that those vast features recognised him, and
+gave him a smile of kindness and encouragement, responsive to his own
+look of veneration. We must not take upon us to affirm that this was a
+mistake, although the Face may have looked no more kindly at Ernest
+than at all the world beside. But the secret was, that the boy's
+tender and confiding simplicity discerned what other people could not
+see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became his peculiar
+portion.</p>
+
+<p>About this time, there went a rumour throughout the valley, that the
+great man, foretold from ages long ago, who was to bear a resemblance
+to the Great Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many
+years before, a young man had migrated from the valley and settled at
+a distant seaport, where, after getting together a little money, he
+had set up as a shopkeeper. His name&mdash;but I could never learn whether
+it was his real one, or a nickname that had grown out of his habits
+and success in life&mdash;was Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and
+endowed by Providence with that inscrutable faculty which develops
+itself in what the world calls luck, he became an exceedingly rich
+merchant, and owner of a whole fleet of bulky-bottomed ships. All the
+countries of the globe appeared to join hands for the mere purpose of
+adding heap after heap to the mountainous accumulation of this one
+man's wealth. The cold regions of the north, almost within the gloom
+and shadow of the Arctic Circle, sent him their tribute in the shape
+of furs; hot Africa sifted for him the golden sands of her rivers, and
+gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out of the forests;
+the East came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, and teas, and
+the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of large pearls.
+The ocean, not to be behindhand with the earth, yielded up her mighty
+whales, that Mr. Gathergold might sell their oil, and make a profit on
+it. Be the original commodity what it might, it was gold within his
+grasp. It might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, that
+whatever he touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew
+yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited
+him still better, into piles of coin. And, when Mr. Gathergold had
+become so very rich that it would have taken him a hundred years only
+to count his wealth, he bethought himself of his native valley, and
+resolved to go back thither, and end his days where he was born. With
+this purpose in view, he sent a skilful architect to build him such a
+palace as should be fit for a man of his vast wealth to live in.</p>
+
+<p>As I have said above, it had already been rumoured in the valley that
+Mr. Gathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long
+and vainly looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and
+undeniable similitude of the Great Stone Face. People were the more
+ready to believe that this must needs be the fact, when they beheld
+the splendid edifice that rose, as if by enchantment, on the site of
+his father's old weather-beaten farmhouse. The exterior was of marble,
+so dazzlingly white that it seemed as though the whole structure might
+melt away in the sunshine, like those humbler ones which Mr.
+Gathergold, in his young play-days, before his fingers were gifted
+with the touch of transmutation, had been accustomed to build of snow.
+It had a richly ornamented portico, supported by tall pillars, beneath
+which was a lofty door, studded with silver knobs, and made of a kind
+of variegated wood that had been brought from beyond the sea. The
+windows, from the floor to the ceiling of each stately apartment, were
+composed, respectively, of but one enormous pane of glass, so
+transparently pure that it was said to be a finer medium than even the
+vacant atmosphere. Hardly anybody had been permitted to see the
+interior of this palace; but it was reported, and with good semblance
+of truth, to be far more gorgeous than the outside, insomuch that
+whatever was iron or brass in other houses was silver or gold in this;
+and Mr. Gathergold's bedchamber, especially, made such a glittering
+appearance that no ordinary man would have been able to close his eyes
+there. But, on the other hand, Mr. Gathergold was now so inured to
+wealth, that perhaps he could not have closed his eyes unless where
+the gleam of it was certain to find its way beneath his eyelids.</p>
+
+<p>In due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers,
+with magnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white
+servants, the harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic
+person, was expected to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest,
+meanwhile, had been deeply stirred by the idea that the great man, the
+noble man, the man of prophecy, after so many ages of delay, was at
+length to be made manifest to his native valley. He knew, boy as he
+was, that there were a thousand ways in which Mr. Gathergold, with
+his vast wealth, might transform himself into an angel of beneficence,
+and assume a control over human affairs as wide and benignant as the
+smile of the Great Stone Face. Full of faith and hope, Ernest doubted
+not that what the people said was true, and that now he was to behold
+the living likeness of those wondrous features on the mountain-side.
+While the boy was still gazing up the valley, and fancying, as he
+always did, that the Great Stone Face returned his gaze and looked
+kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was heard, approaching swiftly
+along the winding road.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here he comes!&quot; cried a group of people who were assembled to witness
+the arrival. &quot;Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A carriage, drawn by four horses, dashed round the turn of the road.
+Within it, thrust partly out of the window, appeared the physiognomy
+of a little old man, with a skin as yellow as if his own Midas-hand
+had transmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered
+about with innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, which he made
+still thinner by pressing them forcibly together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The very image of the Great Stone Face!&quot; shouted the people. &quot;Sure
+enough, the old prophecy is true; and here we have the great man come,
+at last!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe
+that here was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there
+chanced to be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children,
+stragglers from some far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled
+onward, held out their hands and lifted up their doleful voices, most
+piteously beseeching charity. A yellow claw&mdash;the very same that had
+clawed together so much wealth&mdash;poked itself out of the coach-window,
+and dropt some copper coins upon the ground; so that, though the
+great man's name seems to have been Gathergold, he might just as
+suitably have been nicknamed Scattercopper. Still, nevertheless, with
+an earnest shout, and evidently with as much good faith as ever, the
+people bellowed:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is the very image of the Great Stone Face!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid
+visage, and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded
+by the last sunbeams, he could still distinguish those glorious
+features which had impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect
+cheered him. What did the benign lips seem to say?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will come! Fear not, Ernest; the man will come!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a
+young man now. He attracted little notice from the other inhabitants
+of the valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life,
+save that, when the labour of the day was over, he still loved to go
+apart and gaze and meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to
+their idea of the matter, it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable,
+inasmuch as Ernest was industrious, kind, and neighbourly, and
+neglected no duty for the sake of indulging this idle habit. They knew
+not that the Great Stone Face had become a teacher to him, and that
+the sentiment which was expressed in it would enlarge the young man's
+heart, and fill it with wider and deeper sympathies than other hearts.
+They knew not that thence would come a better wisdom than could be
+learned from books, and a better life than could be moulded on the
+defaced example of other human lives. Neither did Ernest know that the
+thoughts and affections which came to him so naturally, in the fields
+and at the fireside, and wherever he communed with himself, were of a
+higher tone than those which all men shared with him. A simple
+soul&mdash;simple as when his mother first taught him the old prophecy&mdash;he
+beheld the marvellous features beaming adown the valley, and still
+wondered that their human counterpart was so long in making his
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest
+part of the matter was, that his wealth which was the body and spirit
+of his existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of
+him but a living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin.
+Since the melting away of his gold, it had been very generally
+conceded that there was no such striking resemblance, after all,
+betwixt the ignoble features of the ruined merchant and that majestic
+face upon the mountain-side. So the people ceased to honour him during
+his lifetime, and quietly consigned him to forgetfulness after his
+decease. Once in a while, it is true, his memory was brought up in
+connection with the magnificent palace which he had built, and which
+had long ago been turned into a hotel for the accommodation of
+strangers, multitudes of whom came, every summer, to visit that famous
+natural curiosity, the Great Stone Face. Thus, Mr. Gathergold being
+discredited and thrown into the shade, the man of prophecy was yet to
+come.</p>
+
+<p>It so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years
+before, had enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard
+fighting, had now become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be
+called in history, he was known in camps and on the battle-field under
+the nickname of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being
+now infirm with age and wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military
+life, and of the roll of the drum and the clangour of the trumpet,
+that had so long been ringing in his ears, had lately signified a
+purpose of returning to his native valley hoping to find repose where
+he remembered to have left it. The inhabitants, his old neighbours and
+their grown-up children, were resolved to welcome the renowned warrior
+with a salute of cannon and a public dinner; and all the more
+enthusiastically, it being affirmed that now, at last, the likeness of
+the Great Stone Face had actually appeared. An aide-de-camp of Old
+Blood-and-Thunder, travelling through the valley, was said to have
+been struck with the resemblance. Moreover the schoolmates and early
+acquaintances of the general were ready to testify, on oath, that, to
+the best of their recollection, the aforesaid general had been
+exceedingly like the majestic image, even when a boy, only that the
+idea had never occurred to them at that period. Great, therefore, was
+the excitement throughout the valley; and many people, who had never
+once thought of glancing at the Great Stone Face for years before, now
+spent their time in gazing at it, for the sake of knowing exactly how
+General Blood-and-Thunder looked.</p>
+
+<p>On the day of the great festival, Ernest, with all the other people of
+the valley, left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the
+sylvan banquet was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the
+Rev. Dr. Battleblast was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good
+things set before them, and on the distinguished friend of peace in
+whose honour they were assembled. The tables were arranged in a
+cleared space of the woods, shut in by the surrounding trees, except
+where a vista opened eastward, and afforded a distant view of the
+Great Stone Face. Over the general's chair, which was a relic from the
+home of Washington, there was an arch of verdant boughs, with the
+laurel profusely intermixed, and surmounted by his country's banner,
+beneath which he had won his victories. Our friend Ernest raised
+himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to get a glimpse of the celebrated
+guest; but there was a mighty crowd about the tables anxious to hear
+the toasts and speeches, and to catch any word that might fall from
+the general in reply; and a volunteer company, doing duty as a guard,
+pricked ruthlessly with their bayonets at any particularly quiet
+person among the throng. So Ernest, being of an unobtrusive character
+was thrust quite into the background, where he could see no more of
+Old Blood-and-Thunder's physiognomy than if it had been still blazing
+on the battle-field. To console himself, he turned towards the Great
+Stone Face, which, like a faithful and long-remembered friend, looked
+back and smiled upon him through the vista of the forest. Meantime,
+however, he could overhear the remarks of various individuals, who
+were comparing the features of the hero with the face on the distant
+mountain-side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Tis the same face, to a hair!&quot; cried one man, cutting a caper for
+joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wonderfully like, that's a fact!&quot; responded another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous
+looking-glass!&quot; cried a third. &quot;And why not? He's the greatest man of
+this or any other age, beyond a doubt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which
+communicated electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a
+thousand voices, that went reverberating for miles among the
+mountains, until you might have supposed that the Great Stone Face had
+poured its thunder-breath into the cry. All these comments, and this
+vast enthusiasm, served the more to interest our friend; nor did he
+think of questioning that now, at length, the mountain-visage had
+found its human counterpart. It is true, Ernest had imagined that this
+long-looked-for personage would appear in the character of a man of
+peace, uttering wisdom and doing good, and making people happy. But,
+taking an habitual breadth of view, with all his simplicity, he
+contended that Providence should choose its own method of blessing
+mankind, and could conceive that this great end might be effected even
+by a warrior and a bloody sword, should inscrutable wisdom see fit to
+order matters so.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The general! the general!&quot; was now the cry. &quot;Hush! silence! Old
+Blood-and-Thunder's going to make a speech.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Even so; for, the cloth being removed, the general's health had been
+drunk amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to thank
+the company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders of the
+crowd, from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar upward,
+beneath the arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and the
+banner drooping as if to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in
+the same glance, through the vista of the forest, appeared the Great
+Stone Face! And was there, indeed, such a resemblance as the crowd had
+testified? Alas, Ernest could not recognise it! He beheld a war-worn
+and weather-beaten countenance, full of energy, and expressive of an
+iron will; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, broad, tender sympathies,
+were altogether wanting in Old Blood-and-Thunder's visage; and even if
+the Great Stone Face had assumed his look of stern command, the milder
+traits would still have tempered it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is not the man of prophecy,&quot; sighed Ernest, to himself, as he
+made his way out of the throng. &quot;And must the world wait longer yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there
+were seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful
+but benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and
+enrobing himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked,
+Ernest could hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole
+visage, with a radiance still brightening, although without motion of
+the lips. It was probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting
+through the thinly diffused vapours that had swept between him and the
+object that he gazed at. But&mdash;as it always did&mdash;the aspect of his
+marvellous friend made Ernest as hopeful as if he had never hoped in
+vain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear not, Ernest,&quot; said his heart, even as if the Great Face were
+whispering him&mdash;&quot;fear not, Ernest; he will come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>More years sped swiftly and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his
+native valley, and was now a man of middle age. By imperceptible
+degrees, he had become known among the people. Now, as heretofore, he
+laboured for his bread, and was the same simple-hearted man that he
+had always been. But he had thought and felt so much he had given so
+many of the best hours of his life to unworldly hopes for some great
+good to mankind, that it seemed as though he had been talking with the
+angels, and had imbibed a portion of their wisdom unawares. It was
+visible in the calm and well-considered beneficence of his daily life,
+the quiet stream of which had made a wide green margin all along its
+course. Not a day passed by, that the world was not the better because
+this man, humble as he was, had lived. He never stepped aside from his
+own path, yet would always reach a blessing to his neighbour. Almost
+involuntarily, too, he had become a preacher. The pure and high
+simplicity of his thought, which, as one of its manifestations, took
+shape in the good deeds that dropped silently from his hand, flowed
+also forth in speech. He uttered truths that wrought upon and moulded
+the lives of those who heard him. His auditors, it may be, never
+suspected that Ernest, their own neighbour and familiar friend, was
+more than an ordinary man; least of all did Ernest himself suspect it;
+but, inevitably as the murmur of a rivulet, came thoughts out of his
+mouth that no other human lips had spoken.</p>
+
+<p>When the people's minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready
+enough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between
+General Blood-and-Thunder's truculent physiognomy and the benign
+visage on the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and
+many paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the
+Great Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain
+eminent statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder,
+was a native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and
+taken up the trades of law and politics. Instead of the rich man's
+wealth and the warrior's sword, he had but a tongue, and it was
+mightier than both together. So wonderfully eloquent was he, that
+whatever he might choose to say, his auditors had no choice but to
+believe him; wrong looked like right, and right like wrong; for when
+it pleased him, he could make a kind of illuminated fog with his mere
+breath, and obscure the natural daylight with it. His tongue, indeed,
+was a magic instrument: sometimes it rumbled like the thunder;
+sometimes it warbled like the sweetest music. It was the blast of
+war&mdash;the song of peace; and it seemed to have a heart in it, when
+there was no such matter. In good truth, he was a wondrous man; and
+when his tongue had acquired him all other imaginable success&mdash;when it
+had been heard in halls of state, and in the courts of princes and
+potentates&mdash;after it had made him known all over the world, even as a
+voice crying from shore to shore&mdash;it finally persuaded his countrymen
+to select him for the Presidency. Before this time&mdash;indeed, as soon as
+he began to grow celebrated&mdash;his admirers had found out the
+resemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much were
+they struck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished
+gentleman was known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was
+considered as giving a highly favourable aspect to his political
+prospects; for, as is likewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever
+becomes President without taking a name other than his own.</p>
+
+<p>While his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old
+Stony Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where
+he was born. Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands
+with his fellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any
+effect which his progress through the country might have upon the
+election. Magnificent preparations were made to receive the
+illustrious statesman; a cavalcade of horsemen set forth to meet him
+at the boundary line of the State, and all the people left their
+business and gathered along the wayside to see him pass. Among these
+was Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, as we have seen, he
+had such a hopeful and confiding nature, that he was always ready to
+believe in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept his heart
+continually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from on
+high, when it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he went
+forth to behold the likeness of the Great Stone Face.</p>
+
+<p>The cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clattering of
+hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and high that
+the visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden from Ernest's
+eyes. All the great men of the neighbourhood were there on horseback:
+militia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; the sheriff of
+the county; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer, too, had
+mounted his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his back. It
+really was a very brilliant spectacle, especially as there were
+numerous banners flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were
+gorgeous portraits of the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone
+Face, smiling familiarly at one another, like two brothers. If the
+pictures were to be trusted, the mutual resemblance, it must be
+confessed, was marvellous. We must not forget to mention that there
+was a band of music, which made the echoes of the mountains ring and
+reverberate with the loud triumph of its strains; so that airy and
+soul-thrilling melodies broke out among all the heights and hollows,
+as if every nook of his native valley had found a voice to welcome the
+distinguished guest. But the grandest effect was when the far-off
+mountain precipice flung back the music; for then the Great Stone Face
+itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, in acknowledgment
+that, at length, the man of prophecy was come.</p>
+
+<p>All this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting,
+with enthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and
+he likewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest,
+&quot;Huzza for the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz?&quot; But as yet he had
+not seen him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here he is, now!&quot; cried those who stood near Ernest. &quot;There! There!
+Look at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and
+see if they are not as like as two twin-brothers!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of all this gallant array, came an open barouche, drawn
+by four white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head
+uncovered, sat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confess it,&quot; said one of Ernest's neighbours to him, &quot;the Great Stone
+Face has met its match at last!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance
+which was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that
+there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the
+mountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all
+the other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in
+emulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity
+and stateliness, the grand expression of a divine sympathy, that
+illuminated the mountain visage, and etherealised its ponderous
+granite substance into spirit, might here be sought in vain. Something
+had been originally left out, or had departed. And therefore the
+marvellously gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deep
+caverns of his eyes, as of a child that has outgrown its playthings,
+or a man of mighty faculties and little aims, whose life, with all its
+high performances, was vague and empty, because no high purpose had
+endowed it with reality.</p>
+
+<p>Still, Ernest's neighbour was thrusting his elbow into his side, and
+pressing him for an answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the
+Mountain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No!&quot; said Ernest, bluntly, &quot;I see little or no likeness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!&quot; answered his
+neighbour; and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz.</p>
+
+<p>But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this
+was the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have
+fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the
+cavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him,
+with the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle
+down, and the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur
+that it had worn for untold centuries.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lo, here I am, Ernest!&quot; the benign lips seemed to say. &quot;I have
+waited longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will
+come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another's
+heels. And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over
+the head of Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead,
+and furrows in his cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he
+grown old; more than the white hairs on his head were the sage
+thoughts in his mind; his wrinkles and furrows were inscriptions that
+Time had graved, and in which he had written legends of wisdom that
+had been tested by the tenor of a life. And Ernest had ceased to be
+obscure. Unsought for, undesired, had come the fame which so many
+seek, and made him known in the great world, beyond the limits of the
+valley in which he had dwelt so quietly. College professors, and even
+the active men of cities, came from far to see and converse with
+Ernest; for the report had gone abroad that this simple husbandman had
+ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, but of a
+higher tone&mdash;a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he had been
+talking with the angels as his daily friends. Whether it were sage,
+statesman, or philanthropist, Ernest received these visitors with the
+gentle sincerity that had characterised him from boyhood, and spoke
+freely with them of whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his
+heart or their own. While they talked together, his face would kindle,
+unawares, and shine upon them, as with a mild evening light. Pensive
+with the fulness of such discourse, his guests took leave and went
+their way; and passing up the valley, paused to look at the Great
+Stone Face, imagining that they had seen its likeness in a human
+countenance, but could not remember where.</p>
+
+<p>While Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful
+Providence had granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a
+native of the valley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a
+distance from that romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid
+the bustle and din of cities. Often, however, did the mountains which
+had been familiar to him in his childhood, lift their snowy peaks into
+the clear atmosphere of his poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face
+forgotten, for the poet had celebrated it in an ode, which was grand
+enough to have been uttered by its own majestic lips. This man of
+genius, we may say, had come down from heaven with wonderful
+endowments. If he sang of a mountain, the eyes of all mankind beheld a
+mightier grandeur reposing on its breast, or soaring to its summit,
+than had before been seen there. If his theme were a lovely lake, a
+celestial smile had now been thrown over it, to gleam forever on its
+surface. If it were the vast old sea, even the deep immensity of its
+dread bosom seemed to swell the higher, as if moved by the emotions of
+the song. Thus the world assumed another and a better aspect from the
+hour that the poet blessed it with his happy eyes. The Creator had
+bestowed him, as the last best touch to his own handiwork. Creation
+was not finished till the poet came to interpret, and so complete it.</p>
+
+<p>The effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren
+were the subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the
+common dust of life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child
+who played in it, were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of
+poetic faith. He showed the golden links of the great chain that
+intertwined them with an angelic kindred; he brought out the hidden
+traits of a celestial birth that made them worthy of such kin. Some,
+indeed, there were, who thought to show the soundness of their
+judgment by affirming that all the beauty and dignity of the natural
+world existed only in the poet's fancy. Let such men speak for
+themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have been spawned forth by
+Nature with a contemptuous bitterness; she having plastered them up
+out of her refuse stuff, after all the swine were made. As respects
+all things else, the poet's ideal was the truest truth.</p>
+
+<p>The songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after
+his customary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where
+for such a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by
+gazing at the Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused
+the soul to thrill within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast
+countenance beaming on him so benignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O majestic friend,&quot; he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, &quot;is
+not this man worthy to resemble thee?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word.</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not
+only heard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until
+he deemed nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught
+wisdom walked hand in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One
+summer morning, therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in
+the decline of the afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great
+distance from Ernest's cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly
+been the palace of Mr. Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet,
+with his carpet-bag on his arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt,
+and was resolved to be accepted as his guest.</p>
+
+<p>Approaching the door, he there found the good old man holding a volume
+in his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger
+between the leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good evening,&quot; said the poet. &quot;Can you give a traveller a night's
+lodging?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Willingly,&quot; answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, &quot;Methinks I
+never saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked
+together. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and
+the wisest, but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts
+and feelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great
+truths so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had
+been so often said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labour in
+the fields; angels seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and,
+dwelling with angels as friend with friends, he had imbibed the
+sublimity of their ideas, and imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm
+of household words. So thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other
+hand, was moved and agitated by the living images which the poet flung
+out of his mind, and which peopled all the air about the cottage-door
+with shapes of beauty, both gay and pensive. The sympathies of these
+two men instructed them with a profounder sense than either could have
+attained alone. Their minds accorded into one strain, and made
+delightful music which neither of them could have claimed as all his
+own, nor distinguished his own share from the other's. They led one
+another, as it were, into a high pavilion of their thoughts, so
+remote, and hitherto so dim, that they had never entered it before,
+and so beautiful that they desired to be there always.</p>
+
+<p>As Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face
+was bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet's
+glowing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The poet laid his finger on the volume that Ernest had been reading.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have read these poems,&quot; said he. &quot;You know me, then&mdash;for I wrote
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the
+poet's features; then turned towards the Great Stone Face; then back,
+with an uncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he
+shook his head, and sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wherefore are you sad?&quot; inquired the poet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because,&quot; replied Ernest, &quot;all through life I have awaited the
+fulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that
+it might be fulfilled in you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You hoped,&quot; answered the poet, faintly smiling, &quot;to find in me the
+likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as
+formerly with Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony
+Phiz. Yes, Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the
+illustrious three, and record another failure of your hopes. For&mdash;in
+shame and sadness do I speak it, Ernest&mdash;I am not worthy to be
+typified by yonder benign and majestic image.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And why?&quot; asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. &quot;Are not those
+thoughts divine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have a strain of the Divinity,&quot; replied the poet. &quot;You can hear
+in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest,
+has not corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but
+they have been only dreams, because I have lived&mdash;and that, too, by my
+own choice&mdash;among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even&mdash;shall I
+dare to say it?&mdash;I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the
+goodness, which my own works are said to have made more evident in
+nature and in human life. Why, then, pure seeker of the good and
+true, shouldst thou hope to find me, in yonder image of the divine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise,
+were those of Ernest.</p>
+
+<p>At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest
+was to discourse to an assemblage of the neighbouring inhabitants in
+the open air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as
+they went along, proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the
+hills, with a gray precipice behind, the stern front of which was
+relieved by the pleasant foliage of many creeping plants, that made a
+tapestry for the naked rocks, by hanging their festoons from all its
+rugged angles. At a small elevation above the ground, set in a rich
+framework of verdure, there appeared a niche, spacious enough to admit
+a human figure, with freedom for such gestures as spontaneously
+accompany earnest thought and genuine emotion. Into this natural
+pulpit Ernest ascended, and threw a look of familiar kindness around
+upon his audience. They stood, or sat, or reclined upon the grass, as
+seemed good to each, with the departing sunshine falling obliquely
+over them, and mingling its subdued cheerfulness with the solemnity of
+a grove of ancient trees, beneath and amid the boughs of which the
+golden rays were constrained to pass. In another direction was seen
+the Great Stone Face, with the same cheer, combined with the same
+solemnity, in its benignant aspect.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart
+and mind. His words had power, because they accorded with his
+thoughts; and his thoughts had reality and depth, because they
+harmonised with the life which he had always lived. It was not mere
+breath that this preacher uttered; they were the words of life,
+because a life of good deeds and holy love was melted into them.
+Pearls, pure and rich, had been dissolved into this precious draught.
+The poet, as he listened, felt that the being and character of Ernest
+were a nobler strain of poetry than he had ever written. His eyes
+glistening with tears, he gazed reverentially at the venerable man,
+and said within himself that never was there an aspect so worthy of a
+prophet and a sage as that mild, sweet, thoughtful countenance, with
+the glory of white hair diffused about it. At a distance, but
+distinctly to be seen, high up in the golden light of the setting sun,
+appeared the Great Stone Face, with hoary mists around it, like the
+white hairs around the brow of Ernest. Its look of grand beneficence
+seemed to embrace the world.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to
+utter, the face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued
+with benevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his
+arms aloft, and shouted:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone
+Face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet
+said was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished
+what he had to say, took the poet's arm, and walked slowly homeward,
+still hoping that some wiser and better man than himself would by and
+by appear, bearing a resemblance to the <i>Great Stone Face</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VII" id="VII">VII</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN</h2>
+
+<p class="center">SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>John Gilpin was a citizen<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of credit and renown,<br /></span>
+<span>A train-band captain eke was he<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of famous London town.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;Though wedded we have been<br /></span>
+<span>These twice ten tedious years, yet we<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No holiday have seen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;To-morrow is our wedding-day,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And we will then repair<br /></span>
+<span>Unto the Bell at Edmonton<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All in a chaise and pair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;My sister and my sister's child,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Myself, and children three,<br /></span>
+<span>Will fill the chaise; so you must ride<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On horseback after we.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>He soon replied, &quot;I do admire<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of womankind but one,<br /></span>
+<span>And you are she, my dearest dear.<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Therefore it shall be done.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;I am a linen-draper bold,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As all the world doth know,<br /></span>
+<span>And my good friend the calender<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Will lend his horse to go.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, &quot;That's well said;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And for that wine is dear,<br /></span>
+<span>We will be furnished with our own,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which is both bright and clear.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;O'er joyed was he to find,<br /></span>
+<span>That, though on pleasure she was bent,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She had a frugal mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The morning came, the chaise was brought,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But yet was not allowed<br /></span>
+<span>To drive up to the door, lest all<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Should say that she was proud.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So three doors off the chaise was stayed,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where they did all get in;<br /></span>
+<span>Six precious souls, and all agog<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To dash through thick and thin.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Were never folks so glad,<br /></span>
+<span>The stones did rattle underneath,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As if Cheapside were mad.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>John Gilpin at his horse's side<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Seized fast the flowing mane,<br /></span>
+<span>And up he got, in haste to ride,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But soon came down again;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His journey to begin,<br /></span>
+<span>When, turning round his head, he saw<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Three customers come in.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So down he came; for loss of time,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Although it grieved him sore,<br /></span>
+<span>Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Would trouble him much more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>'Twas long before the customers<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Were suited to their mind,<br /></span>
+<span>When Betty screaming came down stairs,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;The wine is left behind!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Good lack!&quot; quoth he&mdash;&quot;yet bring it me<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My leathern belt likewise,<br /></span>
+<span>In which I bear my trusty sword<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When I do exercise.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!)<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Had two stone bottles found,<br /></span>
+<span>To hold the liquor that she loved,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And keep it safe and sound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Each bottle had a curling ear,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Through which the belt he drew,<br /></span>
+<span>And hung a bottle on each side,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To make his balance true.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Then over all, that he might be<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Equipped from top to toe,<br /></span>
+<span>His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He manfully did throw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now see him mounted once again<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Upon his nimble steed,<br /></span>
+<span>Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With caution and good heed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>But finding soon a smoother road<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Beneath his well-shod feet,<br /></span>
+<span>The snorting beast began to trot,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which galled him in his seat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So, &quot;Fair and softly,&quot; John he cried,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But John he cried in vain;<br /></span>
+<span>That trot became a gallop soon,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In spite of curb and rein.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So stooping down, as needs be must<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Who cannot sit upright,<br /></span>
+<span>He grasped the mane with both his hands<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And eke with all his might.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>His horse, who never in that sort<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Had handled been before,<br /></span>
+<span>What thing upon his back had got<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Did wonder more and more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Away went hat and wig;<br /></span>
+<span>He little dreamt, when he set out,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of running such a rig.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Like streamer long and gay,<br /></span>
+<span>Till loop and button failing both,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At last it flew away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Then might all people well discern<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The bottles he has slung;<br /></span>
+<span>A bottle swinging at each side,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As hath been said or sung.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The dogs did bark, the children screamed<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Up flew the windows all;<br /></span>
+<span>And every soul cried out, &quot;Well done!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As loud as he could bawl.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Away went Gilpin&mdash;who but he?<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His fame soon spread around;<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;He carries weight!&quot; &quot;He rides a race!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;'Tis for a thousand pound!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And still, as fast as he drew near,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;'Twas wonderful to view,<br /></span>
+<span>How in a trice the turnpike-men<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Their gates wide open threw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And now, as he went bowing down<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His reeking head full low,<br /></span>
+<span>The bottles twain behind his back<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Were shattered at a blow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Down ran the wine into the road,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Most piteous to be seen,<br /></span>
+<span>Which made his horse's flanks to smoke<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As they had basted been.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>But still he seemed to carry weight<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With leathern girdle braced;<br /></span>
+<span>For all might see the bottle necks<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Still dangling at his waist.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Thus all through merry Islington<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;These gambols he did play,<br /></span>
+<span>Until he came unto the Wash<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of Edmonton so gay;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And there he threw the Wash about<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On both sides of the way,<br /></span>
+<span>Just like unto a trundling mop,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Or a wild goose at play.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>At Edmonton his loving wife<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;From the balcony she spied<br /></span>
+<span>Her tender husband, wondering much<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To see how he did ride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Stop, stop, John Gilpin!&mdash;Here's the house!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They all at once did cry;<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;The dinner waits, and we are tired;&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Said Gilpin&mdash;&quot;So am I!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>But yet his horse was not a whit<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Inclined to tarry there;<br /></span>
+<span>For why?&mdash;his owner had a house<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Full ten miles off, at Ware.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So like an arrow swift he flew,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shot by an archer strong;<br /></span>
+<span>So did he fly&mdash;which brings me to<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The middle of my song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Away went Gilpin, out of breath,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And sore against his will,<br /></span>
+<span>Till at his friend's the calender's<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His horse at last stood still.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The calender, amazed to see<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His neighbour in such trim,<br /></span>
+<span>Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And thus accosted him:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;What news? what news? your tidings tell;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Tell me you must and shall&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span>Say why bareheaded you are come,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Or why you come at all?&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And loved a timely joke;<br /></span>
+<span>And thus unto the calender<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In merry guise he spoke:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;I came because your horse would come,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And, if I well forebode,<br /></span>
+<span>My hat and wig will soon be here,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They are upon the road.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The calender, right glad to find<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His friend in merry pin,<br /></span>
+<span>Returned him not a single word,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But to the house went in;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Whence straight he came with hat and wig,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A wig that flowed behind,<br /></span>
+<span>A hat not much the worse for wear,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Each comely in its kind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>He held them up, and in his turn<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thus showed his ready wit,<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;My head is twice as big as yours,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They therefore needs must fit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;But let me scrape the dirt away<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That hangs upon your face;<br /></span>
+<span>And stop and eat, for well you may<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Be in a hungry case.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Said John, &quot;It is my wedding-day,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And all the world would stare,<br /></span>
+<span>If wife should dine at Edmonton,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And I should dine at Ware.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So turning to his horse, he said,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;I am in haste to dine;<br /></span>
+<span>'Twas for your pleasure you came here,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You shall go back for mine.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast!<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For which he paid full dear;<br /></span>
+<span>For, while he spake, a braying ass<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Did sing most loud and clear;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Whereat his horse did snort, as he<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Had heard a lion roar,<br /></span>
+<span>And galloped off with all his might,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As he had done before.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Away went Gilpin, and away<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Went Gilpin's hat and wig:<br /></span>
+<span>He lost them sooner than at first;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For why?&mdash;they were too big.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now Mrs. Gilpin, when she saw<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her husband posting down<br /></span>
+<span>Into the country far away,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She pulled out half-a-crown;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And thus unto the youth, she said,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That drove them to the Bell,<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;This shall be yours, when you bring back<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My husband safe and well.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>The youth did ride, and soon did meet<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;John coming back amain;<br /></span>
+<span>Whom in a trice he tried to stop,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;By catching at his rein;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>But not performing what he meant,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And gladly would have done,<br /></span>
+<span>The frightened steed he frighted more,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And made him faster run.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Away went Gilpin, and away<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Went postboy at his heels,<br /></span>
+<span>The postboy's horse right glad to miss<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The lumbering of the wheels.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Six gentlemen upon the road,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thus seeing Gilpin fly,<br /></span>
+<span>With postboy scampering in the rear,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They raised the hue and cry:&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!&quot;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not one of them was mute;<br /></span>
+<span>And all and each that passed that way<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Did join in the pursuit.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And now the turnpike gates again<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Flew open in short space;<br /></span>
+<span>The toll-men thinking, as before,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That Gilpin rode a race.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>And so he did, and won it too,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For he got first to town;<br /></span>
+<span>Nor stopped till where he had got up<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He did again get down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now let us sing, Long live the king!<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And Gilpin long live he;<br /></span>
+<span>And, when he next doth ride abroad,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;May I be there to see!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">&mdash;WILLIAM COWPER<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY</h2>
+
+
+<p>I suppose that very few casual readers of the <i>New York Herald</i> of
+August 13, 1863, observed, in an obscure corner, among the &quot;Deaths,&quot;
+the announcement,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&quot;NOLAN. Died, on board U.S. Corvette <i>Levant</i>, Lat. 2&deg; 11'
+     S., Long. 131&deg; W., on the 11th of May, PHILIP NOLAN.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>I happened to observe it, because I was stranded at the old Mission
+House in Mackinaw, waiting for a Lake Superior steamer which did not
+choose to come, and I was devouring to the very stubble all the
+current literature I could get hold of, even down to the deaths and
+marriages in the <i>Herald</i>. My memory for names and people is good, and
+the reader will see, as he goes on, that I had reason enough to
+remember Philip Nolan. There are hundreds of readers who would have
+paused at that announcement, if the officer of the <i>Levant</i> who
+reported it had chosen to make it thus: &quot;Died May 11th, THE MAN
+WITHOUT A COUNTRY.&quot; For it was as &quot;The Man without a Country&quot; that
+poor Philip Nolan had generally been known by the officers who had him
+in charge during some fifty years, as, indeed, by all the men who
+sailed under them. I dare say there is many a man who has taken wine
+with him once a fortnight, in a three years' cruise, who never knew
+that his name was &quot;Nolan,&quot; or whether the poor wretch had any name at
+all.</p>
+
+<p>There can now be no possible harm in telling this poor creature's
+story. Reason enough there has been till now ever since Madison's
+administration went out in 1817, for very strict secrecy, the secrecy
+of honour itself, among the gentlemen of the navy who have had Nolan
+in successive charge. And certainly it speaks well for the <i>esprit de
+corps</i> of the profession, and the personal honour of its members, that
+to the press this man's story has been wholly unknown&mdash;and, I think,
+to the country at large also. I have reason to think, from some
+investigations I made in the Naval Archives when I was attached to the
+Bureau of Construction, that every official report relating to him was
+burned when Ross burned the public buildings at Washington. One of the
+Tuckers, or possibly one of the Watsons, had Nolan in charge at the
+end of the war; and when, on returning from his cruise, he reported at
+Washington to one of the Crowninshields&mdash;who was in the Navy
+Department when he came home&mdash;he found that the Department ignored the
+whole business. Whether they really knew nothing about it, or whether
+it was a &quot;<i>Non mi ricordo</i>,&quot; determined on as a piece of policy I do
+not know. But this I do know, that since 1817, and possibly before, no
+naval officer has mentioned Nolan in his report of a cruise.</p>
+
+<p>But, as I say, there is no need for secrecy any longer. And now the
+poor creature is dead, it seems to me worth while to tell a little of
+his story, by way of showing young Americans of to-day what it is to
+be A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.</p>
+
+<p>PHILIP NOLAN was as fine a young officer as there was in the &quot;Legion
+of the West,&quot; as the Western division of our army was then called.
+When Aaron Burr made his first dashing expedition down to New Orleans
+in 1805, at Fort Massac, or somewhere above on the river, he met, as
+the Devil would have it, this gay, dashing, bright young fellow; at
+some dinner-party, I think. Burr marked him, talked to him, walked
+with him, took him a day or two's voyage in his flat-boat, and, in
+short, fascinated him. For the next year, barrack-life was very tame
+to poor Nolan. He occasionally availed himself of the permission the
+great man had given him to write to him. Long, high-worded, stilted
+letters the poor boy wrote and rewrote and copied. But never a line
+did he have in reply from the gay deceiver. The other boys in the
+garrison sneered at him, because he lost the fun which they found in
+shooting or rowing while he was working away on these grand letters to
+his grand friend. They could not understand why Nolan kept by himself
+while they were playing high-low-jack. Poker was not yet invented. But
+before long the young fellow had his revenge. For this time His
+Excellency, Honourable Aaron Burr, appeared again under a very
+different aspect. There were rumours that he had an army behind him
+and everybody supposed that he had an empire before him. At that time
+the youngsters all envied him. Burr had not been talking twenty
+minutes with the commander before he asked him to send for Lieutenant
+Nolan. Then after a little talk he asked Nolan if he could show him
+something of the great river and the plans for the new post. He asked
+Nolan to take him out in his skiff to show him a canebrake or a
+cottonwood tree, as he said, really to seduce him; and by the time the
+sail was over, Nolan was enlisted body and soul. From that time,
+though he did not yet know it, he lived as A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.</p>
+
+<p>What Burr meant to do I know no more than you, dear reader. It is none
+of our business just now. Only, when the grand catastrophe came, and
+Jefferson and the House of Virginia of that day undertook to break on
+the wheel all the possible Clarences of the then House of York, by the
+great treason trial at Richmond, some of the lesser fry in that
+distant Mississippi Valley, which was farther from us than Puget's
+Sound is to-day, introduced the like novelty on their provincial
+stage; and, to while away the monotony of the summer at Fort Adams,
+got up, for <i>spectacles</i>, a string of courts-martial on the officers
+there. One and another of the colonels and majors were tried, and, to
+fill out the list, little Nolan, against whom, Heaven knows, there was
+evidence enough&mdash;that he was sick of the service, had been willing to
+be false to it, and would have obeyed any order to march any whither
+with anyone who would follow him had the order been signed, &quot;By
+command of His Exc. A. Burr.&quot; The courts dragged on. The big flies
+escaped, rightly for all I know. Nolan was proved guilty enough, as I
+say; yet you and I would never have heard of him, reader, but that,
+when the president of the court asked him at the close whether he
+wished to say anything to show that he had always been faithful to the
+United States, he cried out, in a fit of frenzy&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Damn the United States! I wish I may never hear of the United States
+again!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I suppose he did not know how the words shocked old Colonel Morgan,
+who was holding the court. Half the officers who sat in it had served
+through the Revolution, and their lives, not to say their necks, had
+been risked for the very idea which he so cavalierly cursed in his
+madness. He, on his part, had grown up in the West of those days, in
+the midst of &quot;Spanish plot,&quot; &quot;Orleans plot,&quot; and all the rest. He had
+been educated on a plantation where the finest company was a Spanish
+officer or a French merchant from Orleans. His education, such as it
+was, had been perfected in commercial expeditions to Vera Cruz, and I
+think he told me his father once hired an Englishman to be a private
+tutor for a winter on the plantation. He had spent half his youth with
+an older brother, hunting horses in Texas; and, in a word, to him
+&quot;United States&quot; was scarcely a reality. Yet he had been fed by &quot;United
+States&quot; for all the years since he had been in the army. He had sworn
+on his faith as a Christian to be true to &quot;United States.&quot; It was
+&quot;United States&quot; which gave him the uniform he wore, and the sword by
+his side. Nay, my poor Nolan, it was only because &quot;United States&quot; had
+picked you out first as one of her own confidential men of honour that
+&quot;A. Burr&quot; cared for you a straw more than for the flat-boat men who
+sailed his ark for him. I do not excuse Nolan; I only explain to the
+reader why he damned his country, and wished he might never hear her
+name again.</p>
+
+<p>He never did hear her name but once again. From that moment, Sept. 23,
+1807, till the day he died, May 11, 1863, he never heard her name
+again. For that half-century and more he was a man without a country.</p>
+
+<p>Old Morgan, as I said, was terribly shocked. If Nolan had compared
+George Washington to Benedict Arnold, or had cried, &quot;God save King
+George,&quot; Morgan would not have felt worse. He called the court into
+his private room, and returned in fifteen minutes, with a face like a
+sheet, to say:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Prisoner, hear the sentence of the Court! The Court decides, subject
+to the approval of the President, that you never hear the name of the
+United States again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Nolan laughed. But nobody else laughed. Old Morgan was too solemn, and
+the whole room was hushed dead as night for a minute. Even Nolan lost
+his swagger in a moment. Then Morgan added:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Marshal, take the prisoner to Orleans in an armed boat, and
+deliver him to the naval commander there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The marshal gave his orders and the prisoner was taken out of court.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Marshal,&quot; continued old Morgan, &quot;see that no one mentions the
+United States to the prisoner. Mr. Marshal, make my respects to
+Lieutenant Mitchell at Orleans, and request him to order that no one
+shall mention the United States to the prisoner while he is on board
+ship. You will receive your written orders from the officer on duty
+here this evening. The Court is adjourned without day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I have always supposed that Colonel Morgan himself took the
+proceedings of the court to Washington city, and explained them to Mr.
+Jefferson. Certain it is that the President approved them&mdash;certain,
+that is, if I may believe the men who say they have seen his
+signature. Before the <i>Nautilus</i> got round from New Orleans to the
+Northern Atlantic coast with the prisoner on board, the sentence had
+been approved, and he was a man without a country.</p>
+
+<p>The plan then adopted was substantially the same which was necessarily
+followed ever after. Perhaps it was suggested by the necessity of
+sending him by water from Fort Adams and Orleans. The Secretary of the
+Navy&mdash;it must have been the first Crowninshield, though he is a man I
+do not remember&mdash;was requested to put Nolan on board a government
+vessel bound on a long cruise, and to direct that he should be only so
+far confined there as to make it certain that he never saw or heard of
+the country. We had few long cruises then, and the navy was very much
+out of favour; and as almost all of this story is traditional, as I
+have explained, I do not know certainly what his first cruise was. But
+the commander to whom he was intrusted&mdash;perhaps it was Tingey or Shaw,
+though I think it was one of the younger men&mdash;we are all old enough
+now&mdash;regulated the etiquette and the precautions of the affair, and
+according to his scheme they were carried out, I suppose, till Nolan
+died.</p>
+
+<p>When I was second officer of the <i>Intrepid</i>, some thirty years after,
+I saw the original paper of instructions. I have been sorry ever
+since that I did not copy the whole of it. It ran, however, much in
+this way&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 15em;">WASHINGTON (with a date, which</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 15.5em;">must have been late in 1807).</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Sir,</p>
+
+<p>     You will receive from Lieutenant Neale the person of Philip
+     Nolan, late a lieutenant in the United States army.</p>
+
+<p>     This person on his trial by court-martial expressed, with an
+     oath, the wish that he might never hear of the United States
+     again.</p>
+
+<p>     The Court sentenced him to have his wish fulfilled.</p>
+
+<p>     For the present, the execution of the order is intrusted by
+     the President to this Department.</p>
+
+<p>     You will take the prisoner on board your ship, and keep him
+     there with such precautions as shall prevent his escape.</p>
+
+<p>     You will provide him with such quarters, rations, and
+     clothing as would be proper for an officer of his late rank,
+     if he were a passenger on your vessel on the business of his
+     Government.</p>
+
+<p>     The gentlemen on board will make any arrangements agreeable
+     to themselves regarding his society. He is to be exposed to
+     no indignity of any kind, nor is he ever unnecessarily to be
+     reminded that he is a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>     But under no circumstances is he ever to hear of his country
+     or to see any information regarding it; and you will
+     especially caution all the officers under your command to
+     take care, that, in the various indulgences which may be
+     granted, this rule, in which his punishment is involved,
+     shall not be broken.</p>
+
+<p>     It is the intention of the Government that he shall never
+     again see the country which he has disowned. Before the end
+     of your cruise you will receive orders which will give
+     effect to this intention.</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 15em;">Respectfully yours,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 17.5em;">W. SOUTHARD, for the</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 21em;">Secretary of the Navy.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>If I had only preserved the whole of this paper, there would be no
+break in the beginning of my sketch of this story. For Captain Shaw,
+if it were he, handed it to his successor in the charge, and he to
+his, and I suppose the commander of the <i>Levant</i> has it to-day as his
+authority for keeping this man in this mild custody.</p>
+
+<p>The rule adopted on board the ships on which I have met &quot;the man
+without a country&quot; was, I think, transmitted from the beginning. No
+mess liked to have him permanently, because his presence cut off all
+talk of home or the prospect of return, of politics or letters, of
+peace or of war&mdash;cut off more than half the talk men liked to have at
+sea. But it was always thought too hard that he should never meet the
+rest of us, except to touch hats, and we finally sank into one system.
+He was not permitted to talk with the men, unless an officer was by.
+With officers he had unrestrained intercourse, as far as they and he
+chose. But he grew shy, though he had favourites: I was one. Then the
+captain always asked him to dinner on Monday. Every mess in succession
+took up the invitation in its turn. According to the size of the ship,
+you had him at your mess more or less often at dinner. His breakfast
+he ate in his own state-room&mdash;he always had a state-room&mdash;which was
+where a sentinel or somebody on the watch could see the door. And
+whatever else he ate or drank, he ate or drank alone. Sometimes, when
+the marines or sailors had any special jollification, they were
+permitted to invite &quot;Plain-Buttons,&quot; as they called him. Then Nolan
+was sent with some officer, and the men were forbidden to speak of
+home while he was there. I believe the theory was that the sight of
+his punishment did them good. They called him &quot;Plain-Buttons,&quot;
+because, while he always chose to wear a regulation army-uniform, he
+was not permitted to wear the army-button, for the reason that it bore
+either the initials or the insignia of the country he had disowned.</p>
+
+<p>I remember, soon after I joined the navy, I was on shore with some of
+the older officers from our ship and from the <i>Brandywine</i>, which we
+had met at Alexandria. We had leave to make a party and go up to Cairo
+and the Pyramids. As we jogged along (you went on donkeys then), some
+of the gentlemen (we boys called them &quot;Dons,&quot; but the phrase was long
+since changed) fell to talking about Nolan, and someone told the
+system which was adopted from the first about his books and other
+reading. As he was almost never permitted to go on shore, even though
+the vessel lay in port for months, his time at the best hung heavy;
+and everybody was permitted to lend him books, if they were not
+published in America and made no allusion to it. These were common
+enough in the old days, when people in the other hemisphere talked of
+the United States as little as we do of Paraguay. He had almost all
+the foreign papers that came into the ship, sooner or later; only
+somebody must go over them first, and cut out any advertisement or
+stray paragraph that alluded to America. This was a little cruel
+sometimes, when the back of what was cut out might be as innocent as
+Hesiod. Right in the midst of one of Napoleon's battles, or one of
+Canning's speeches, poor Nolan would find a great hole, because on the
+back of the page of that paper there had been an advertisement of a
+packet for New York, or a scrap from the President's message. I say
+this was the first time I ever heard of this plan, which afterwards I
+had enough and more than enough to do with. I remember it, because
+poor Phillips, who was of the party, as soon as the allusion to
+reading was made, told a story of something which happened at the Cape
+of Good Hope on Nolan's first voyage; and it is the only thing I ever
+knew of that voyage. They had touched at the Cape, and had done the
+civil thing with the English Admiral and the fleet, and then, leaving
+for a long cruise up the Indian Ocean, Phillips had borrowed a lot of
+English books from an officer, which, in those days, as indeed in
+these, was quite a windfall. Among them, as the Devil would order, was
+the &quot;Lay of the Last Minstrel,&quot; which they had all of them heard of,
+but which most of them had never seen. I think it could not have been
+published long. Well, nobody thought there could be any risk of
+anything national in that, though Phillips swore old Shaw had cut out
+the &quot;Tempest&quot; from Shakespeare before he let Nolan have it, because he
+said &quot;the Bermudas ought to be ours, and, by Jove, should be one day.&quot;
+So Nolan was permitted to join the circle one afternoon when a lot of
+them sat on deck smoking and reading aloud. People do not do such
+things so often now; but when I was young we got rid of a great deal
+of time so. Well, so it happened that in his turn Nolan took the book
+and read to the others; and he read very well, as I know. Nobody in
+the circle knew a line of the poem, only it was all magic and Border
+chivalry, and was ten thousand years ago. Poor Nolan read steadily
+through the fifth canto, stopped a minute and drank something, and
+then began, without a thought of what was coming:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;Who never to himself hath said,&quot;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It seems impossible to us that anybody ever heard this for the first
+time; but all these fellows did then, and poor Nolan himself went on,
+still unconsciously or mechanically&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;This is my own, my native land!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then they all saw that something was to pay; but he expected to get
+through, I suppose, turned a little pale, but plunged on,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As home his footsteps he hath turned<br /></span>
+<span>From wandering on a foreign strand?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;If such there breathe, go, mark him well&mdash;&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>By this time the men were all beside themselves, wishing there was
+any way to make him turn over two pages; but he had not quite presence
+of mind for that; he gagged a little, coloured crimson, and staggered
+on&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;For him no minstrel raptures swell;<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;High though his titles, proud his name.<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;Despite these titles, power, and pelf,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;The wretch, concentred all in self&mdash;&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>and here the poor fellow choked, could not go on, but started up,
+swung the book into the sea, vanished into his state-room, &quot;And by
+Jove,&quot; said Phillips, &quot;we did not see him for two months again. And I
+had to make up some beggarly story to that English surgeon why I did
+not return his Walter Scott to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That story shows about the time when Nolan's braggadocio must have
+broken down. At first, they said, he took a very high tone, considered
+his imprisonment a mere farce, affected to enjoy the voyage, and all
+that; but Phillips said that after he came out of his state-room he
+never was the same man again. He never read aloud again unless it was
+the Bible or Shakespeare, or something else he was sure of. But it was
+not that merely. He never entered in with the other young men exactly
+as a companion again. He was always shy afterwards, when I knew
+him&mdash;very seldom spoke, unless he was spoken to, except to a very few
+friends. He lighted up occasionally&mdash;I remember late in his life
+hearing him fairly eloquent on something which had been suggested to
+him by one of Fl&eacute;chier's sermons&mdash;but generally he had the nervous,
+tired look of a heart-wounded man.</p>
+
+<p>When Captain Shaw was coming home&mdash;if, as I say, it was Shaw&mdash;rather
+to the surprise of everybody they made one of the Windward Islands,
+and lay off and on for nearly a week. The boys said the officers were
+sick of salt-junk, and meant to have turtle-soup before they came
+home. But after several days the <i>Warren</i> came to the same rendezvous;
+they exchanged signals; she sent to Phillips and these homeward-bound
+men letters and papers, and told them she was outward-bound, perhaps
+to the Mediterranean, and took poor Nolan and his traps on the boat
+back to try his second cruise. He looked very blank when he was told
+to get ready to join her. He had known enough of the signs of the sky
+to know that till that moment he was going &quot;home.&quot; But this was a
+distinct evidence of something he had not thought of, perhaps&mdash;that
+there was no going home for him, even to a prison. And this was the
+first of some twenty such transfers, which brought him sooner or later
+into half our best vessels, but which kept him all his life at least
+some hundred miles from the country he had hoped he might never hear
+of again.</p>
+
+<p>It may have been on that second cruise&mdash;it was once when he was up the
+Mediterranean,&mdash;that Mrs. Graff, the celebrated Southern beauty of
+those days, danced with him. They had been lying a long time in the
+Bay of Naples, and the officers were very intimate in the English
+fleet, and there had been great festivities, and our men thought they
+must give a great ball on board the ship. How they ever did it on
+board the <i>Warren</i> I am sure I do not know. Perhaps it was not the
+<i>Warren</i>, or perhaps ladies did not take up so much room as they do
+now. They wanted to use Nolan's state-room for something, and they
+hated to do it without asking him to the ball; so the captain said
+they might ask him, if they would be responsible that he did not talk
+with the wrong people, &quot;who would give him intelligence.&quot; So the dance
+went on, the finest party that had ever been known, I dare say; for I
+never heard of a man-of-war ball that was not. For ladies they had the
+family of the American consul, one or two travellers who had
+adventured so far, and a nice bevy of English girls and matrons,
+perhaps Lady Hamilton herself.</p>
+
+<p>Well, different officers relieved each other in standing and talking
+with Nolan in a friendly way, so as to be sure that nobody else spoke
+to him. The dancing went on with spirit, and after a while even the
+fellows who took this honorary guard of Nolan ceased to fear any
+<i>contretemps</i>. Only when some English lady&mdash;Lady Hamilton, as I said,
+perhaps&mdash;called for a set of &quot;American dances,&quot; an odd thing happened.
+Everybody then danced contra-dances. The black band, nothing loath,
+conferred as to what &quot;American dances&quot; were, and started off with
+&quot;Virginia Reel,&quot; which they followed with &quot;Money Musk,&quot; which, in its
+turn in those days, should have been followed by &quot;The Old Thirteen.&quot;
+But just as Dick, the leader, tapped for his fiddles to begin, and
+bent forward, about to say, in true negro state, &quot;'The Old Thirteen,'
+gentlemen and ladies!&quot; as he had said &quot;'Virginny Reel,' if you
+please!&quot; and &quot;'Money-Musk,' if you please!&quot; the captain's boy tapped
+him on the shoulder, whispered to him, and he did not announce the
+name of the dance; he merely bowed, began on the air, and they all
+fell to&mdash;the officers teaching the English girls the figure, but not
+telling them why it had no name.</p>
+
+<p>But that is not the story I started to tell. As the dancing went on,
+Nolan and our fellows all got at ease, as I said: so much so, that it
+seemed quite natural for him to bow to that splendid Mrs. Graff and
+say:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you have not forgotten me, Miss Rutledge. Shall I have the
+honour of dancing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did it so quickly, that Fellows, who was with him, could not
+hinder him. She laughed and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not Miss Rutledge any longer, Mr. Nolan; but I will dance all
+the same,&quot; just nodded to Fellows, as if to say he must leave Mr.
+Nolan to her, and led him off to the place where the dance was
+forming.</p>
+
+<p>Nolan thought he had got his chance. He had known her at Philadelphia,
+and at other places had met her, and this was a godsend. You could not
+talk in contra-dances as you do in cotillions, or even in the pauses
+of waltzing; but there were chances for tongues and sounds, as well as
+for eyes and blushes. He began with her travels, and Europe, and
+Vesuvius, and the French; and then, when they had worked down, and had
+that long talking time at the bottom of the set, he said boldly&mdash;a
+little pale, she said, as she told me the story years after&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what do you hear from home, Mrs. Graff?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And that splendid creature looked through him. Jove! how she must have
+looked through him!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Home!! Mr. Nolan!!! I thought you were the man who never wanted to
+hear of home again!&quot;&mdash;and she walked directly up the deck to her
+husband, and left poor Nolan alone, as he always was.&mdash;He did not
+dance again. I cannot give any history of him in order; nobody can
+now; and, indeed, I am not trying to.</p>
+
+<p>These are the traditions, which I sort out, as I believe them, from
+the myths which have been told about this man for forty years. The
+lies that have been told about him are legion. The fellows used to say
+he was the &quot;Iron Mask;&quot; and poor George Pons went to his grave in the
+belief that this was the author of &quot;Junius,&quot; who was being punished
+for his celebrated libel on Thomas Jefferson. Pons was not very strong
+in the historical line.</p>
+
+<p>A happier story than either of these I have told is of the war. That
+came along soon after. I have heard this affair told in three or four
+ways&mdash;and, indeed, it may have happened more than once. But which ship
+it was on I cannot tell. However, in one at least, of the great
+frigate-duels with the English, in which the navy was really baptised,
+it happened that a round-shot from the enemy entered one of our ports
+square, and took right down the officer of the gun himself, and almost
+every man of the gun's crew. Now you may say what you choose about
+courage, but that is not a nice thing to see. But, as the men who were
+not killed picked themselves up, and as they and the surgeon's people
+were carrying off the bodies, there appeared Nolan, in his
+shirt-sleeves, with the rammer in his hand, and, just as if he had
+been the officer, told them off with authority&mdash;who should go to the
+cock-pit with the wounded men, who should stay with him&mdash;perfectly
+cheery, and with that way which makes men feel sure all is right and
+is going to be right. And he finished loading the gun with his own
+hands, aimed it, and bade the men fire. And there he stayed, captain
+of that gun, keeping those fellows in spirits, till the enemy
+struck&mdash;sitting on the carriage while the gun was cooling, though he
+was exposed all the time&mdash;showing them easier ways to handle heavy
+shot&mdash;making the raw hands laugh at their own blunders&mdash;and when the
+gun cooled again, getting it loaded and fired twice as often as any
+other gun on the ship. The captain walked forward by way of
+encouraging the men, and Nolan touched his hat and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am showing them how we do this in the artillery, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And this is the part of the story where all the legends agree; the
+commodore said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see you do, and I thank you, sir; and I shall never forget this
+day, sir, and you never shall, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And after the whole thing was over, and he had the Englishman's
+sword, in the midst of the state and ceremony of the quarter-deck, he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where is Mr. Nolan? Ask Mr. Nolan to come here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And when Nolan came, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Nolan, we are all very grateful to you to-day; you are one of us
+to-day; you will be named in the despatches.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then the old man took off his own sword of ceremony, and gave it
+to Nolan, and made him put it on. The man told me this who saw it.
+Nolan cried like a baby, and well he might. He had not worn a sword
+since that infernal day at Fort Adams. But always afterwards on
+occasions of ceremony, he wore that quaint old French sword of the
+commodore's.</p>
+
+<p>The captain did mention him in the despatches. It was always said he
+asked that he might be pardoned. He wrote a special letter to the
+Secretary of War. But nothing ever came of it. As I said, that was
+about the time when they began to ignore the whole transaction at
+Washington, and when Nolan's imprisonment began to carry itself on
+because there was nobody to stop it without any new orders from home.</p>
+
+<p>I have heard it said that he was with Porter when he took possession
+of the Nukahiwa Islands. Not this Porter, you know, but old Porter,
+his father, Essex Porter&mdash;that is, the old Essex Porter, not this
+Essex. As an artillery officer, who had seen service in the West,
+Nolan knew more about fortifications, embrasures, ravelins, stockades,
+and all that, than any of them did; and he worked with a right
+goodwill in fixing that battery all right. I have always thought it
+was a pity Porter did not leave him in command there with Gamble. That
+would have settled all the question about his punishment. We should
+have kept the islands, and at this moment we should have one station
+in the Pacific Ocean. Our French friends, too, when they wanted this
+little watering-place, would have found it was preoccupied. But
+Madison and the Virginians, of course, flung all that away.</p>
+
+<p>All that was near fifty years ago. If Nolan was thirty then, he must
+have been near eighty when he died. He looked sixty when he was forty.
+But he never seemed to me to change a hair afterwards. As I imagine
+his life, from what I have seen and heard of it, he must have been in
+every sea, and yet almost never on land. He must have known, in a
+formal way, more officers in our service than any man living knows. He
+told me once, with a grave smile, that no man in the world lived so
+methodical a life as he. &quot;You know the boys say I am the Iron Mask,
+and you know how busy he was.&quot; He said it did not do for anyone to try
+to read all the time, more than to do anything else all the time; and
+that he used to read just five hours a day. &quot;Then,&quot; he said, &quot;I keep
+up my note-books, writing in them at such and such hours from what I
+have been reading; and I include in these my scrap-books.&quot; These were
+very curious indeed. He had six or eight, of different subjects. There
+was one of History, one of Natural Science, one which he called &quot;Odds
+and Ends.&quot; But they were not merely books of extracts from newspapers.
+They had bits of plants and ribbons, shells tied on, and carved scraps
+of bone and wood, which he had taught the men to cut for him, and they
+were beautifully illustrated. He drew admirably. He had some of the
+funniest drawings there, and some of the most pathetic, that I have
+ever seen in my life. I wonder who will have Nolan's scrap-books.</p>
+
+<p>Well, he said his reading and his notes were his profession, and that
+they took five hours and two hours respectively of each day. &quot;Then,&quot;
+said he, &quot;every man should have a diversion as well as a profession.
+My Natural History is my diversion.&quot; That took two hours a day more.
+The men used to bring him birds and fish, but on a long cruise he had
+to satisfy himself with centipedes and cockroaches and such small
+game. He was the only naturalist I ever met who knew anything about
+the habits of the house-fly and the mosquito. All those people can
+tell you whether they are <i>Lepidoptera</i> or <i>Steptopotera</i>; but as for
+telling how you can get rid of them, or how they get away from you
+when you strike them&mdash;why Linn&aelig;us knew as little of that as John Foy
+the idiot did. These nine hours made Nolan's regular daily
+&quot;occupation.&quot; The rest of the time he talked or walked. Till he grew
+very old, he went aloft a great deal. He always kept up his exercise;
+and I never heard that he was ill. If any other man was ill, he was
+the kindest nurse in the world; and he knew more than half the
+surgeons do. Then if anybody was sick or died, or if the captain
+wanted him to, on any other occasion, he was always ready to read
+prayers. I have said that he read beautifully.</p>
+
+<p>My own acquaintance with Philip Nolan began six or eight years after
+the English war, on my first voyage after I was appointed a
+midshipman. It was in the first days after our Slave-Trade treaty,
+while the Reigning House, which was still the House of Virginia, had
+still a sort of sentimentalism about the suppression of the horrors of
+the Middle Passage, and something was sometimes done that way. We were
+in the South Atlantic on that business. From the time I joined, I
+believe I thought Nolan was a sort of lay chaplain&mdash;a chaplain with a
+blue coat. I never asked about him. Everything in the ship was strange
+to me. I knew it was green to ask questions, and I suppose I thought
+there was a &quot;Plain-Buttons&quot; on every ship. We had him to dine in our
+mess once a week, and the caution was given that on that day nothing
+was to be said about home. But if they had told us not to say anything
+about the planet Mars or the Book of Deuteronomy, I should not have
+asked why; there were a great many things which seemed to me to have
+as little reason. I first came to understand anything about &quot;the man
+without a country&quot; one day when we overhauled a dirty little schooner
+which had slaves on board. An officer was sent to take charge of her,
+and, after a few minutes, he sent back his boat to ask that someone
+might be sent him who could speak Portuguese. We were all looking over
+the rail when the message came, and we all wished we could interpret,
+when the captain asked who spoke Portuguese. But none of the officers
+did; and just as the captain was sending forward to ask if any of the
+people could, Nolan stepped out and said he should be glad to
+interpret, if the captain wished, as he understood the language. The
+captain thanked him, fitted out another boat with him, and in this
+boat it was my luck to go.</p>
+
+<p>When we got there, it was such a scene as you seldom see, and never
+want to. Nastiness beyond account, and chaos run loose in the midst of
+the nastiness. There were not a great many of the negroes; but by way
+of making what there were understand that they were free, Vaughan had
+had their handcuffs, and ankle-cuffs knocked off, and, for
+convenience's sake, was putting them upon the rascals of the
+schooner's crew. The negroes were, most of them, out of the hold, and
+swarming all round the dirty deck, with a central throng surrounding
+Vaughan and addressing him in every dialect, and <i>patois</i> of a
+dialect, from the Zulu click up to the Parisian of Beledeljereed.</p>
+
+<p>As we came on deck, Vaughan looked down from a hogshead, on which he
+had mounted in desperation, and said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For God's love, is there anybody who can make these wretches
+understand something? The men gave them rum, and that did not quiet
+them. I knocked that big fellow down twice, and that did not soothe
+him. And then I talked Choctaw to all of them together; and I'll be
+hanged if they understood that as well as they understood the
+English.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Nolan said he could speak Portuguese, and one or two fine-looking
+Kroomen were dragged out, who, as it had been found already, had
+worked for the Portuguese on the coast at Fernando Po.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell them they are free,&quot; said Vaughan; &quot;and tell them that these
+rascals are to be hanged as soon as we can get rope enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Nolan &quot;put that into Spanish,&quot; that is, he explained it in such
+Portuguese as the Kroomen could understand, and they in turn to such
+of the negroes as could understand them. Then there was such a yell of
+delight, clinching of fists, leaping and dancing, kissing of Nolan's
+feet, and a general rush made to the hogshead by way of spontaneous
+worship of Vaughan, as the <i>deus ex machina</i> of the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell them,&quot; said Vaughan, well pleased, &quot;that I will take them all to
+Cape Palmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This did not answer so well. Cape Palmas was practically as far from
+the homes of most of them as New Orleans or Rio Janeiro was; that is
+they would be eternally separated from home there. And their
+interpreters, as we could understand, instantly said, &quot;<i>Ah, non
+Palmas</i>&quot; and began to propose infinite other expedients in most
+voluble language. Vaughan was rather disappointed at this result of
+his liberality, and asked Nolan eagerly what they said. The drops
+stood on poor Nolan's white forehead, as he hushed the men down, and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He says, 'Not Palmas.' He says, 'Take us home, take us to our own
+country, take us to our own house, take us to our own pickaninnies and
+our own women.' He says he has an old father and mother who will die
+if they do not see him. And this one says he left his people all sick,
+and paddled down to Fernando to beg the white doctor to come and help
+them, and that these devils caught him in the bay just in sight of
+home, and that he has never seen anybody from home since then. And
+this one says,&quot; choked out Nolan, &quot;that he has not heard a word from
+his home in six months, while he has been locked up in an infernal
+barracoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Vaughan always said he grew gray himself while Nolan struggled through
+this interpretation. I, who did not understand anything of the passion
+involved in it, saw that the very elements were melting with fervent
+heat, and that something was to pay somewhere. Even the negroes
+themselves stopped howling, as they saw Nolan's agony, and Vaughan's
+almost equal agony of sympathy. As quick as he could get words, he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell them yes, yes, yes; tell them they shall go to the Mountains of
+the Moon, if they will. If I sail the schooner through the Great White
+Desert, they shall go home!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And after some fashion Nolan said so. And then they all fell to
+kissing him again, and wanted to rub his nose with theirs.</p>
+
+<p>But he could not stand it long; and getting Vaughan to say he might go
+back, he beckoned me down into our boat. As we lay back in the
+stern-sheets and the men gave way, he said to me: &quot;Youngster, let that
+show you what it is to be without a family, without a home, and
+without a country. And if you are ever tempted to say a word or to do
+a thing that shall put a bar between you and your family, your home,
+and your country, pray God in His mercy to take you that instant home
+to His own heaven. Stick by your family, boy; forget you have a self,
+while you do everything for them. Think of your home, boy; write and
+send, and talk about it. Let it be nearer and nearer to your thought,
+the farther you have to travel from it; and rush back to it when you
+are free, as that poor black slave is doing now. And for your country,
+boy,&quot; and the words rattled in his throat, &quot;and for that flag,&quot; and he
+pointed to the ship, &quot;never dream a dream but of serving her as she
+bids you, though the service carry you through a thousand hells. No
+matter what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or who abuses
+you, never look at another flag, never let a night pass but you pray
+God to bless that flag. Remember, boy, that behind all these men you
+have to do with, behind officers, and government, and people even,
+there is the Country Herself, your Country, and that you belong to Her
+as you belong to your own mother. Stand by Her, boy, as you would
+stand by your mother, if those devils there had got hold of her
+to-day!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I was frightened to death by his, calm, hard passion; but I blundered
+out that I would, by all that was holy, and that I had never thought
+of doing anything else. He hardly seemed to hear me; but he did,
+almost in a whisper, say: &quot;O, if anybody had said so to me when I was
+of your age!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I think it was this half-confidence of his, which I never abused, for
+I never told this story till now, which afterward made us great
+friends. He was very kind to me. Often he sat up, or even got up, at
+night, to walk the deck with me, when it was my watch. He explained to
+me a great deal of my mathematics, and I owe to him my taste for
+mathematics. He lent me books, and helped me about my reading. He
+never alluded so directly to his story again; but from one and another
+officer I have learned, in thirty years, what I am telling. When we
+parted from him in St. Thomas harbour, at the end of our cruise, I was
+more sorry than I can tell. I was very glad to meet him again in 1830;
+and later in life, when I thought I had some influence in Washington,
+I moved heaven and earth to have him discharged. But it was like
+getting a ghost out of prison. They pretended there was no such man,
+and never was such a man. They will say so at the Department now!
+Perhaps they do not know. It will not be the first thing in the
+service of which the Department appears to know nothing!</p>
+
+<p>There is a story that Nolan met Burr once on one of our vessels, when
+a party of Americans came on board in the Mediterranean. But this I
+believe to be a lie; or, rather, it is a myth, <i>ben trovato</i>,
+involving a tremendous blowing-up with which he sunk Burr,&mdash;asking him
+how he liked to be &quot;without a country.&quot; But it is clear from Burr's
+life, that nothing of the sort could have happened; and I mention this
+only as an illustration of the stories which get a-going where there
+is the least mystery at bottom.</p>
+
+<p>Philip Nolan, poor fellow, repented of his folly, and then, like a
+man, submitted to the fate he had asked for. He never intentionally
+added to the difficulty or delicacy of the charge of those who had him
+in hold. Accidents would happen; but never from his fault. Lieutenant
+Truxton told me that, when Texas was annexed, there was a careful
+discussion among the officers, whether they should get hold of Nolan's
+handsome set of maps and cut Texas out of it&mdash;from the map of the
+world and the map of Mexico. The United States had been cut out when
+the atlas was bought for him. But it was voted, rightly enough, that
+to do this would be virtually to reveal to him what had happened, or,
+as Harry Cole said, to make him think Old Burr had succeeded. So it
+was from no fault of Nolan's that a great botch happened at my own
+table, when, for a short time, I was in command of the <i>George
+Washington</i> corvette, on the South American station. We were lying in
+the La Plata, and some of the officers, who had been on shore and had
+just joined again, were entertaining us with accounts of their
+misadventures in riding the half-wild horses of Buenos Ayres. Nolan
+was at table, and was in an unusually bright and talkative mood. Some
+story of a tumble reminded him of an adventure of his own when he was
+catching wild horses in Texas with his adventurous cousin, at a time
+when he must have been quite a boy. He told the story with a good deal
+of spirit&mdash;so much so, that the silence which often follows a good
+story hung over the table for an instant, to be broken by Nolan
+himself. For he asked perfectly unconsciously:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, what has become of Texas? After the Mexicans got their
+independence, I thought that province of Texas would come forward very
+fast. It is really one of the finest regions on earth; it is the Italy
+of this continent. But I have not seen or heard a word of Texas for
+nearly twenty years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were two Texan officers at the table. The reason he had never
+heard of Texas was that Texas and her affairs had been painfully cut
+out of his newspapers since Austin began his settlements; so that,
+while he read of Honduras and Tamaulipas, and, till quite lately, of
+California&mdash;this virgin province, in which his brother had travelled
+so far, and I believe, had died, had ceased to be to him. Waters and
+Williams, the two Texas men, looked grimly at each other and tried not
+to laugh. Edward Morris had his attention attracted by the third link
+in the chain of the captain's chandelier. Watrous was seized with a
+convulsion of sneezing. Nolan himself saw that something was to pay,
+he did not know what. And I, as master of the feast, had to say:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Texas is out of the map, Mr. Nolan. Have you seen Captain Back's
+curious account of Sir Thomas Roe's Welcome?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After that cruise I never saw Nolan again. I wrote to him at least
+twice a year, for in that voyage we became even confidentially
+intimate; but he never wrote to me. The other men tell me that in
+those fifteen years he <i>aged</i> very fast, as well he might indeed, but
+that he was still the same gentle, uncomplaining, silent sufferer that
+he ever was, bearing as best he could his self-appointed
+punishment&mdash;rather less social, perhaps, with new men whom he did not
+know, but more anxious, apparently, than ever to serve and befriend
+and teach the boys, some of whom fairly seemed to worship him. And now
+it seems the dear old fellow is dead. He has found a home at last, and
+a country.</p>
+
+<p>Since writing this, and while considering whether or not I would print
+it, as a warning to the young Nolans and Vallandighams and Tatnalls of
+to-day of what it is to throw away a country, I have received from
+Danforth, who is on board the <i>Levant</i>, a letter which gives an
+account of Nolan's last hours. It removes all my doubts about telling
+this story.</p>
+
+<p>The reader will understand Danforth's letter, or the beginning of it,
+if he will remember that after ten years of Nolan's exile everyone who
+had him in charge was in a very delicate position. The government had
+failed to renew the order of 1807 regarding him. What was a man to do?
+Should he let him go? What, then, if he were called to account by the
+Department for violating the order of 1807? Should he keep him? What,
+then, if Nolan should be liberated some day, and should bring an
+action of false imprisonment or kidnapping against every man who had
+had him in charge? I urged and pressed this upon Southard, and I have
+reason to think that other officers did the same thing. But the
+Secretary always said, as they so often do at Washington, that there
+were no special orders to give, and that we must act on our own
+judgment. That means, &quot;If you succeed, you will be sustained; if you
+fail, you will be disavowed.&quot; Well, as Danforth says, all that is over
+now, though I do not know but I expose myself to a criminal
+prosecution on the evidence of the very revelation I am making.</p>
+
+<p>Here is the letter:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">LEVANT, 2&deg; 2' S. at 131&deg; W.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>DEAR FRED:</p>
+
+<p>     I try to find heart and life to tell you that it is all over
+     with dear old Nolan. I have been with him on this voyage
+     more than I ever was, and I can understand wholly now the
+     way in which you used to speak of the dear old fellow. I
+     could see that he was not strong, but I had no idea the end
+     was so near. The doctor has been watching him very
+     carefully, and yesterday morning came to me and told me that
+     Nolan was not so well, and had not left his state-room&mdash;a
+     thing I never remember before. He had let the doctor come
+     and see him as he lay there&mdash;the first time the doctor had
+     been in the state-room&mdash;and he said he should like to see
+     me. Oh, dear! do you remember the mysteries we boys used to
+     invent about his room in the old <i>Intrepid</i> days? Well, I
+     went in, and there, to be sure, the poor fellow lay in his
+     berth, smiling pleasantly as he gave me his hand, but
+     looking very frail. I could not help a glance round, which
+     showed me what a little shrine he had made of the box he was
+     lying in. The Stars and Stripes were triced up above and
+     around a picture of Washington, and he had painted a
+     majestic eagle, with lightnings blazing from his beak and
+     his foot just clasping the whole globe, which his wings
+     overshadowed. The dear old boy saw my glance, and said, with
+     a sad smile, &quot;Here, you see, I have a country!&quot; And then he
+     pointed to the foot of his bed, where I had not seen before
+     a great map of the United States, as he had drawn it from
+     memory, and which he had there to look upon as he lay.
+     Quaint, queer old names were on it, in large letters:
+     &quot;Indiana Territory,&quot; &quot;Mississippi Territory,&quot; and &quot;Louisiana
+     Territory.&quot; I suppose our fathers learned such things: but
+     the old fellow had patched in Texas, too; he had carried his
+     western boundary all the way to the Pacific, but on that
+     shore he had defined nothing.</p>
+
+<p>     &quot;O Captain,&quot; he said, &quot;I know I am dying. I cannot get home.
+     Surely you will tell me something now?&mdash;Stop! stop! Do not
+     speak till I say what I am sure you know, that there is not
+     in this ship, that there is not in America&mdash;God bless
+     her!&mdash;a more loyal man than I. There cannot be a man who
+     loves the old flag as I do, or prays for it as I do, or
+     hopes for it as I do. There are thirty-four stars in it now,
+     Danforth. I thank God for that, though I do not know what
+     their names are. There has never been one taken away: I
+     thank God for that. I know by that that there has never been
+     any successful Burr, O Danforth, Danforth,&quot; he sighed out,
+     &quot;how like a wretched night's dream a boy's idea of personal
+     fame or of separate sovereignty seems; when one looks back
+     on it after such a life as mine! But tell me&mdash;tell me
+     something&mdash;tell me everything, Danforth, before I die!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>     Ingham, I swear to you that I felt like a monster that I had
+     not told him everything before. Danger or no danger,
+     delicacy or no delicacy, who was I, that I should have been
+     acting the tyrant all this time over this dear, sainted old
+     man, who had years ago expiated, in his whole manhood's
+     life, the madness of a boy's treason? &quot;Mr. Nolan,&quot; said I,
+     &quot;I will tell you everything you ask about. Only, where shall
+     I begin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>     Oh, the blessed smile that crept over his white face! and he
+     pressed my hand and said, &quot;God bless you! Tell me their
+     names,&quot; he said, and he pointed to the stars on the flag.
+     &quot;The last I know is Ohio. My father lived in Kentucky. But I
+     have guessed Michigan and Indiana and Mississippi&mdash;that was
+     where Fort Adams is&mdash;they make twenty. But where are your
+     other fourteen? You have not cut up any of the old ones, I
+     hope?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>     Well, that was not a bad text, and I told him the names in
+     as good order as I could, and he bade me take down his
+     beautiful map and draw them in as I best could with my
+     pencil. He was wild with delight about Texas, told me how
+     his cousin died there; he had marked a gold cross near where
+     he supposed his grave was; and he had guessed at Texas. Then
+     he was delighted as he saw California and Oregon,&mdash;that, he
+     said, he had suspected partly, because he had never been
+     permitted to land on that shore, though the ships were there
+     so much. &quot;And the men,&quot; said he, laughing, &quot;brought off a
+     good deal beside furs.&quot; Then he went back&mdash;heavens, how
+     far!&mdash;to ask about the <i>Chesapeake</i>, and what was done to
+     Barron for surrendering her to the <i>Leopard</i>, and whether
+     Burr ever tried again&mdash;and he ground his teeth with the only
+     passion he showed. But in a moment that was over, and he
+     said, &quot;God forgive me, for I am sure I forgive him.&quot; Then he
+     asked about the old war&mdash;told me the true story of his
+     serving the gun the day we took the <i>Java</i>&mdash;asked about dear
+     old David Porter, as he called him. Then he settled down
+     more quietly, and very happily, to hear me tell in an hour
+     the history of fifty years.</p>
+
+<p>     How I wished it had been somebody who knew something! But I
+     did as well as I could. I told him of the English war. I
+     told him about Fulton and the steamboat beginning. I told
+     him about old Scott, and Jackson; told him all I could think
+     of about the Mississippi, and New Orleans, and Texas, and
+     his own old Kentucky. And do you think, he asked who was in
+     command of the &quot;Legion of the West.&quot; I told him it was a
+     very gallant officer named Grant, and that, by our last
+     news, he was about to establish his headquarters at
+     Vicksburg. Then, &quot;Where was Vicksburg?&quot; I worked that out on
+     the map; it was about a hundred miles, more or less, above
+     his old Fort Adams and I thought Fort Adams must be a ruin
+     now. &quot;It must be at old Vick's plantation, at Walnut Hills,&quot;
+     said he: &quot;well, that is a change!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>     I tell you, Ingham, it was a hard thing to condense the
+     history of half a century into that talk with a sick man.
+     And I do not now know what I told him&mdash;of emigration, and
+     the means of it&mdash;of steamboats, and railroads, and
+     telegraphs&mdash;of inventions, and books, and literature&mdash;of the
+     colleges, and West Point, and the Naval School&mdash;but with the
+     queerest interruptions that ever you heard. You see it was
+     Robinson Crusoe asking all the accumulated questions of
+     fifty-six years!</p>
+
+<p>     I remember he asked, all of a sudden, who was President now;
+     and when I told him, he asked if Old Abe was General
+     Benjamin Lincoln's son. He said he met old General Lincoln,
+     when he was quite a boy himself, at some Indian treaty. I
+     said no, that Old Abe was a Kentuckian like himself, but I
+     could not tell him of what family; he had worked up from the
+     ranks. &quot;Good for him!&quot; cried Nolan; &quot;I am glad of that. As I
+     have brooded and wondered, I have thought our danger was in
+     keeping up those regular successions in the first families.&quot;
+     Then I got talking about my visit to Washington. I told him
+     of meeting the Oregon Congressman, Harding; I told him about
+     the Smithsonian, and the Exploring Expedition; I told him
+     about the Capitol and the statues for the pediment, and
+     Crawford's Liberty, and Greenough's Washington: Ingham, I
+     told him everything I could think of that would show the
+     grandeur of his country and its prosperity; but I could not
+     make up my mouth to tell him a word about this infernal
+     rebellion!</p>
+
+<p>     And he drank it in and enjoyed it as I cannot tell you. He
+     grew more and more silent, yet I never thought he was tired
+     or faint. I gave him a glass of water, but he just wet his
+     lips, and told me not to go away. Then he asked me to bring
+     the Presbyterian &quot;Book of Public Prayer&quot; which lay there,
+     and said, with a smile, that it would open at the right
+     place&mdash;and so it did. There was his double red mark down the
+     page; and I knelt down and read, and he repeated with me,
+     &quot;For ourselves and our country, O gracious God, we thank
+     Thee, that, notwithstanding our manifold transgressions of
+     Thy holy laws, Thou hast continued to us Thy marvellous
+     kindness,&quot; and so to the end of that thanksgiving. Then he
+     turned to the end of the same book, and I read the words
+     more familiar to me: &quot;Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy
+     favour to behold and bless Thy servant, the President of the
+     United States, and all others in authority&quot;&mdash;and the rest of
+     the Episcopal collect. &quot;Danforth,&quot; said he &quot;I have repeated
+     these prayers night and morning, it is now fifty-five
+     years.&quot; And then he said he would go to sleep. He bent me
+     down over him and kissed me; and he said, &quot;Look in my Bible,
+     Captain, when I am gone.&quot; And I went away.</p>
+
+<p>     But I had no thought it was the end. I thought he was tired
+     and would sleep. I knew he was happy, and I wanted him to be
+     alone.</p>
+
+<p>     But in an hour, when the doctor went in gently, he found
+     Nolan had breathed his life away with a smile. He had
+     something pressed close to his lips. It was his father's
+     badge of the Order of the Cincinnati.</p>
+
+<p>     We looked in his Bible, and there was a slip of paper at the
+     place where he had marked the text&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>     &quot;They desire a country, even a heavenly: wherefore God is
+     not ashamed to be called their God: for He hath prepared for
+     them a city.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>     On this slip of paper he had written:</p>
+
+<p>     &quot;Bury me in the sea; it has been my home, and I love it. But
+     will not someone set up a stone for my memory at Fort Adams
+     or at Orleans, that my disgrace may not be more than I
+     ought to bear? Say on it:</p></div>
+
+<p class="center">
+&quot;<i>In Memory of</i><br />
+&quot;PHILIP NOLAN,<br />
+&quot;<i>Lieutenant in the Army of the United States.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+&quot;He loved his country as no other man has<br />
+loved her; but no man deserved less at<br />
+her hands.&quot;<br /></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IX" id="IX">IX</a></h2>
+
+<h2>THE N&Uuml;RNBERG STOVE</h2>
+
+
+<p>August lived in a little town called Hall. Hall is a favourite name
+for several towns in Austria and in Germany; but this one especial
+little Hall, in the Upper Innthal, is one of the most charming
+Old-World places that I know, and August for his part did not know any
+other. It has the green meadows and the great mountains all about it,
+and the gray-green glacier-fed water rushes by it. It has paved
+streets and enchanting little shops that have all latticed panes and
+iron gratings to them; it has a very grand old Gothic church, that has
+the noblest blendings of light and shadow, and marble tombs of dead
+knights, and a look of infinite strength and repose as a church should
+have. Then there is the Muntze Tower, black and white, rising out of
+greenery and looking down on a long wooden bridge and the broad rapid
+river; and there is an old schloss which has been made into a
+guard-house, with battlements and frescoes and heraldic devices in
+gold and colours, and a man-at-arms carved in stone standing life-size
+in his niche and bearing his date 1530. A little farther on, but close
+at hand, is a cloister with beautiful marble columns and tombs, and a
+colossal wood-carved Calvary, and beside that a small and very rich
+chapel: indeed, so full is the little town of the undisturbed past,
+that to walk in it is like opening a missal of the Middle Ages, all
+emblazoned and illuminated with saints and warriors, and it is so
+clean, and so still, and so noble, by reason of its monuments and its
+historic colour, that I marvel much no one has ever cared to sing its
+praises. The old pious heroic life of an age at once more restful and
+more brave than ours still leaves its spirit there, and then there is
+the girdle of the mountains all around, and that alone means strength,
+peace, majesty.</p>
+
+<p>In this little town a few years ago August Strehla lived with his
+people in the stone-paved irregular square where the grand church
+stands.</p>
+
+<p>He was a small boy of nine years at that time&mdash;a chubby-faced little
+man with rosy cheeks, big hazel eyes, and clusters of curls the brown
+of ripe nuts. His mother was dead, his father was poor, and there were
+many mouths at home to feed. In this country the winters are long and
+very cold, the whole land lies wrapped in snow for many months, and
+this night that he was trotting home, with a jug of beer in his numb
+red hands, was terribly cold and dreary. The good burghers of Hall had
+shut their double shutters, and the few lamps there were flickered
+dully behind their quaint, old-fashioned iron casings. The mountains
+indeed were beautiful, all snow-white under the stars that are so big
+in frost. Hardly anyone was astir; a few good souls wending home from
+vespers, a tired post-boy who blew a shrill blast from his tasseled
+horn as he pulled up his sledge before a hostelry, and little August
+hugging his jug of beer to his ragged sheepskin coat, were all who
+were abroad, for the snow fell heavily and the good folks of Hall go
+early to their beds. He could not run, or he would have spilled the
+beer; he was half frozen and a little frightened, but he kept up his
+courage by saying over and over again to himself, &quot;I shall soon be at
+home with dear Hirschvogel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went on through the streets, past the stone man-at-arms of the
+guard-house, and so into the place where the great church was, and
+where near it stood his father Karl Strehla's house, with a sculptured
+Bethlehem over the doorway, and the Pilgrimage of the Three Kings
+painted on its wall. He had been sent on a long errand outside the
+gates in the afternoon, over the frozen fields and broad white snow,
+and had been belated, and had thought he had heard the wolves behind
+him at every step, and had reached the town in a great state of
+terror, thankful with all his little panting heart to see the oil-lamp
+burning under the first house-shrine. But he had not forgotten to call
+for the beer, and he carried it carefully now, though his hands were
+so numb that he was afraid they would let the jug down every moment.</p>
+
+<p>The snow outlined with white every gable and cornice of the beautiful
+old wooden houses; the moonlight shone on the gilded signs, the lambs,
+the grapes, the eagles, and all the quaint devices that hung before
+the doors; covered lamps burned before the Nativities and Crucifixions
+painted on the walls or let into the wood-work; here and there, where
+a shutter had not been closed, a ruddy fire-light lit up a homely
+interior, with the noisy band of children clustering round the
+house-mother and a big brown loaf, or some gossips spinning and
+listening to the cobbler's or the barber's story of a neighbour, while
+the oil-wicks glimmered, and the hearth-logs blazed, and the chestnuts
+sputtered in their iron roasting-pot. Little August saw all these
+things as he saw everything with his two big bright eyes that had such
+curious lights and shadows in them; but he went heedfully on his way
+for the sake of the beer which a single slip of the foot would make
+him spill. At his knock and call the solid oak door, four centuries
+old if one, flew open, and the boy darted in with his beer, and
+shouted, with all the force of mirthful lungs, &quot;Oh, dear Hirschvogel,
+but for the thought of you I should have died!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a large barren room into which he rushed with so much pleasure,
+and the bricks were bare and uneven. It had a walnut-wood press,
+handsome and very old, a broad deal table, and several wooden stools
+for all its furniture; but at the top of the chamber, sending out
+warmth and colour together as the lamp sheds its rays upon it, was a
+tower of porcelain, burnished with all the hues of a king's peacock
+and a queen's jewels, and surmounted with armed figures, and shields,
+and flowers of heraldry, and a great golden crown upon the highest
+summit of all.</p>
+
+<p>It was a stove of 1532, and on it were the letters H.R.H., for it was
+in every portion the handwork of the great potter of N&uuml;rnberg,
+Augustin Hirschvogel, who put his mark thus, as all the world knows.</p>
+
+<p>The stove no doubt had stood in palaces and been made for princes, had
+warmed the crimson stockings of cardinals and the gold-broidered shoes
+of archduchesses, had glowed in presence-chambers and lent its carbon
+to help kindle sharp brains in anxious councils of state; no one knew
+what it had been or done or been fashioned for; but it was a right
+royal thing. Yet perhaps it had never been more useful than it was now
+in this poor desolate room, sending down heat and comfort into the
+troop of children tumbled together on a wolfskin at its feet, who
+received frozen August among them with loud shouts of joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, dear Hirschvogel, I am so cold, so cold!&quot; said August, kissing its
+gilded lion's claws. &quot;Is father not in, Dorothea?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, dear. He is late.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea was a girl of seventeen, dark-haired and serious, and with a
+sweet, sad face, for she had had many cares laid on her shoulders,
+even whilst still a mere baby. She was the eldest of the Strehla
+family; and there were ten of them in all. Next to her there came Jan
+and Karl and Otho, big lads, gaining a little for their own living;
+and then came August, who went up in the summer to the high Alps with
+the farmers' cattle, but in winter could do nothing to fill his own
+little platter and pot; and then all the little ones, who could only
+open their mouths to be fed like young birds&mdash;Albrecht and Hilda, and
+Waldo and Christof, and last of all little three-year-old Ermengilda,
+with eyes like forget-me-nots, whose birth had cost them the life of
+their mother.</p>
+
+<p>They were of that mixed race, half Austrian, half Italian, so common
+in the Tyrol; some of the children were white and golden as lilies,
+others were brown and brilliant as fresh-fallen chestnuts. The father
+was a good man, but weak and weary with so many to find for and so
+little to do it with. He worked at the salt-furnaces, and by that
+gained a few florins; people said he would have worked better and kept
+his family more easily if he had not loved his pipe and a draught of
+ale too well; but this had only been said of him after his wife's
+death, when trouble and perplexity had begun to dull a brain never too
+vigorous, and to enfeeble further a character already too yielding. As
+it was, the wolf often bayed at the door of the Strehla household,
+without a wolf from the mountains coming down. Dorothea was one of
+those maidens who almost work miracles, so far can their industry and
+care and intelligence make a home sweet and wholesome and a single
+loaf seem to swell into twenty. The children were always clean and
+happy, and the table was seldom without its big pot of soup once a
+day. Still, very poor they were, and Dorothea's heart ached with
+shame, for she knew that their father's debts were many for flour and
+meat and clothing. Or fuel to feed the big stove they had always
+enough without cost, for their mother's father was alive, and sold
+wood and fir cones and coke, and never grudged them to his
+grandchildren, though he grumbled at Strehla's improvidence and
+hapless, dreamy ways.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father says we are never to wait for him: we will have supper, now
+you have come home, dear,&quot; said Dorothea, who, however she might fret
+her soul in secret as she knitted their hose and mended their shirts,
+never let her anxieties cast a gloom on the children; only to August
+she did speak a little sometimes, because he was so thoughtful and so
+tender of her always, and knew as well as she did that there were
+troubles about money&mdash;though these troubles were vague to them both,
+and the debtors were patient and kindly, being neighbours all in the
+old twisting streets between the guard-house and the river.</p>
+
+<p>Supper was a huge bowl of soup, with big slices of brown bread
+swimming in it and some onions bobbing up and down: the bowl was soon
+emptied by ten wooden spoons, and then the three eldest boys slipped
+off to bed, being tired with their rough bodily labour in the snow all
+day, and Dorothea drew her spinning-wheel by the stove and set it
+whirring, and the little ones got August down upon the old worn
+wolfskin and clamoured to him for a picture or a story. For August was
+the artist of the family.</p>
+
+<p>He had a piece of planed deal that his father had given him, and some
+sticks of charcoal, and he would draw a hundred things he had seen in
+the day, sweeping each out with his elbow when the children had seen
+enough of it and sketching another in its stead&mdash;faces and dogs'
+heads, and men in sledges, and old women in their furs, and
+pine-trees, and cocks and hens, and all sorts of animals, and now and
+then&mdash;very reverently&mdash;a Madonna and Child. It was all very rough, for
+there was no one to teach him anything But it was all life-like, and
+kept the whole troop of children shrieking with laughter, or watching
+breathless, with wide open, wondering, awed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>They were all so happy: what did they care for the snow outside? Their
+little bodies were warm, and their hearts merry; even Dorothea,
+troubled about the bread for the morrow, laughed as she spun; and
+August, with all his soul in his work, and little rosy Ermengilda's
+cheek on his shoulder, glowing after his frozen afternoon, cried out
+loud, smiling, as he looked up at the stove that was shedding its head
+down on them all:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, dear Hirschvogel! you are almost as great and good as the sun!
+No; you are greater and better, I think, because he goes away nobody
+knows where all these long, dark, cold hours, and does not care how
+people die for want of him; but you&mdash;you are always ready: just a
+little bit of wood to feed you, and you will make a summer for us all
+the winter through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The grand old stove seemed to smile through all its iridescent surface
+at the praises of the child. No doubt the stove, though it had known
+three centuries and more, had known but very little gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>It was one of those magnificent stoves in enamelled fa&iuml;ence which so
+excited the jealousy of the other potters of N&uuml;rnberg that in a body
+they demanded of the magistracy that Augustin Hirschvogel should be
+forbidden to make any more of them&mdash;the magistracy, happily, proving
+of a broader mind, and having no sympathy with the wish of the
+artisans to cripple their greater fellow.</p>
+
+<p>It was of great height and breadth, with all the majolica lustre which
+Hirschvogel learned to give to his enamels when he was making love to
+the young Venetian girl whom he afterwards married. There was the
+statue of a king at each corner, modelled with as much force and
+splendour as his friend Albrecht D&uuml;rer could have given unto them on
+copperplate or canvas. The body of the stove itself was divided into
+panels, which had the Ages of Man painted on them in polychrome; the
+borders of the panels had roses and holly and laurel and other
+foliage, and German mottoes in black letter of odd Old-World
+moralising, such as the old Teutons, and the Dutch after them, love to
+have on their chimney-places and their drinking cups, their dishes and
+flagons. The whole was burnished with gilding in many parts, and was
+radiant everywhere with that brilliant colouring of which the
+Hirschvogel family, painters on glass and great in chemistry as they
+were, were all masters.</p>
+
+<p>The stove was a very grand thing, as I say: possibly Hirschvogel had
+made it for some mighty lord of the Tyrol at that time when he was an
+imperial guest at Innspruck and fashioned so many things for the
+Schloss Amras and beautiful Philippine Welser, the Burgher's daughter,
+who gained an Archduke's heart by her beauty and the right to wear his
+honors by her wit. Nothing was known of the stove at this latter day
+in Hall. The grandfather Strehla, who had been a master-mason, had dug
+it up out of some ruins where he was building, and, finding it without
+a flaw, had taken it home, and only thought it worth finding because
+it was such a good one to burn. That was now sixty years past, and
+ever since then the stove had stood in the big desolate empty room,
+warming three generations of the Strehla family, and having seen
+nothing prettier perhaps in all its many years than the children
+tumbled now in a cluster like gathered flowers at its feet. For the
+Strehla children, born to nothing else, were all born to beauty; white
+or brown, they were equally lovely to look upon, and when they went
+into the church to mass, with their curling locks and their clasped
+hands, they stood under the grim statues like cherubs flown down off
+some fresco.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell us a story, August,&quot; they cried, in chorus, when they had seen
+charcoal pictures till they were tired; and August did as he did every
+night, pretty nearly, looked up at the stove and told them what he
+imagined of the many adventures and joys and sorrows of the human
+being who figured on the panels from his cradle to his grave.</p>
+
+<p>To the children the stove was a household god. In summer they laid a
+mat of fresh moss all round it, and dressed it up with green boughs
+and the numberless beautiful wild flowers of the Tyrol country. In
+winter all their joys centred in it, and scampering home from school
+over the ice and snow they were happy, knowing that they would soon be
+cracking nuts or roasting chestnuts in the broad ardent glow of its
+noble tower, which rose eight feet high above them with all its spires
+and pinnacles and crowns.</p>
+
+<p>Once a travelling peddler had told them that the letters on it meant
+Augustin Hirschvogel, and that Hirschvogel had been a great German
+potter and painter, like his father before him, in the art-sanctified
+city of N&uuml;rnberg, and had made many such stoves, that were all
+miracles of beauty and of workmanship, putting all his heart and his
+soul and his faith into his labours, as the men of those earlier ages
+did, and thinking but little of gold or praise.</p>
+
+<p>An old trader, too, who sold curiosities not far from the church, had
+told August a little more about the brave family of Hirschvogel, whose
+houses can be seen in N&uuml;rnberg to this day; of old Veit, the first of
+them, who painted the Gothic windows of St. Sebald with the marriage
+of the Margravine; of his sons and of his grandsons, potters,
+painters, engravers all, and chief of them great Augustin, the Luca
+della Robbia of the North. And August's imagination, always quick,
+had made a living personage out of these few records, and saw
+Hirschvogel as though he were in the flesh walking up and down the
+Maximilian-Strass in his visit to Innspruck, and maturing beautiful
+things in his brain as he stood on the bridge and gazed on the
+emerald-green flood of the Inn.</p>
+
+<p>So the stove had got to be called Hirschvogel in the family, as if it
+were a living creature, and little August was very proud because he
+had been named after that famous old dead German who had had the
+genius to make so glorious a thing. All the children loved the stove,
+but with August the love of it was a passion; and in his secret heart
+he used to say to himself, &quot;When I am a man, I will make just such
+things too, and then I will set Hirschvogel in a beautiful room in a
+house that I will build myself in Innspruck just outside the gates,
+where the chestnuts are, by the river: that is what I will do when I
+am a man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For August, a salt-baker's son and a little cow-keeper when he was
+anything, was a dreamer of dreams, and when he was upon the high Alps
+with his cattle, with the stillness and the sky around him, was quite
+certain that he would live for greater things than driving the herds
+up when the springtide came among the blue sea of gentians, or toiling
+down in the town with wood and with timber as his father and
+grandfather did every day of their lives. He was a strong and healthy
+little fellow, fed on the free mountain air, and he was very happy,
+and loved his family devotedly, and was as active as a squirrel and as
+playful as a hare; but he kept his thoughts to himself, and some of
+them went a very long way for a little boy who was only one among
+many, and to whom nobody had ever paid any attention except to teach
+him his letters and tell him to fear God. August in winter was only a
+little, hungry schoolboy, trotting to be catechised by the priest, or
+to bring the loaves from the bake-house, or to carry his father's
+boots to the cobbler; and in summer he was only one of hundreds of
+cow-boys, who drove the poor, half-blind, blinking, stumbling cattle,
+ringing their throat-bells, out into the sweet intoxication of the
+sudden sunlight, and lived up with them in the heights among the
+Alpine roses, with only the clouds and the snow-summits near. But he
+was always thinking, thinking, thinking, for all that; and under his
+little sheepskin winter coat and his rough hempen summer shirt his
+heart had as much courage in it as Hofer's ever had&mdash;great Hofer, who
+is a household word in all the Innthal, and whom August always
+reverently remembered when he went to the city of Innspruck and ran
+out by the foaming water-mill and under the wooded height of Berg
+Isel.</p>
+
+<p>August lay now in the warmth of the stove and told the children
+stories, his own little brown face growing red with excitement as his
+imagination glowed to fever heat. That human being on the panels, who
+was drawn there as a baby in a cradle, as a boy playing among flowers,
+as a lover sighing under a casement, as a soldier in the midst of
+strife, as a father with children round him, as a weary, old, blind
+man on crutches, and, lastly, as a ransomed soul raised up by angels,
+had always had the most intense interest for August, and he had made,
+not one history for him, but a thousand; he seldom told them the same
+tale twice. He had never seen a story-book in his life; his primer and
+his mass-book were all the volumes he had. But nature had given him
+Fancy, and she is a good fairy that makes up for the want of very many
+things! only, alas! her wings are so very soon broken, poor thing, and
+then she is of no use at all.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is time for you all to go to bed, children,&quot; said Dorothea,
+looking up from her spinning. &quot;Father is very late to-night; you must
+not sit up for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, five minutes more, dear Dorothea!&quot; they pleaded; and little rosy
+and golden Ermengilda climbed up into her lap. &quot;Hirschvogel is so
+warm, the beds are never so warm as he. Cannot you tell us another
+tale, August?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; cried August, whose face had lost its light, now that his story
+had come to an end, and who sat serious, with his hands clasped on his
+knees, gazing on to the luminous arabesques of the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is only a week to Christmas,&quot; he said, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Grandmother's big cakes!&quot; chuckled little Christof, who was five
+years old, and thought Christmas meant a big cake and nothing else.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What will Santa Claus find for 'Gilda if she be good?&quot; murmured
+Dorothea over the child's sunny head; for, however hard poverty might
+pinch, it could never pinch so tightly that Dorothea would not find
+some wooden toy and some rosy apples to put in her little sister's
+socks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father Max has promised me a big goose, because I saved the calf's
+life in June,&quot; said August; it was the twentieth time he had told them
+so that month, he was so proud of it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Aunt Ma&iuml;la will be sure to send us wine and honey and a barrel of
+flour; she always does,&quot; said Albrecht. Their aunt Ma&iuml;la had a ch&acirc;let
+and a little farm over on the green slopes toward Dorf Ampas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall go up into the woods and get Hirschvogel's crown,&quot; said
+August; they always crowned Hirschvogel for Christmas with pine boughs
+and ivy and mountain-berries. The heat soon withered the crown; but it
+was part of the religion of the day to them, as much so as it was to
+cross themselves in church and raise their voices in the &quot;O Salutaris
+Hostia.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they fell chatting of all they would do on the Christmas night,
+and one little voice piped loud against another's, and they were as
+happy as though their stockings would be full of golden purses and
+jewelled toys, and the big goose in the soup-pot seemed to them such a
+meal as kings would envy.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of their chatter and laughter a blast of frozen air and a
+spray of driven snow struck like ice through the room, and reached
+them even in the warmth of the old wolfskins and the great stove. It
+was the door which had opened and let in the cold; it was their father
+who had come home.</p>
+
+<p>The younger children ran joyous to meet him. Dorothea pushed the one
+wooden arm-chair of the room to the stove, and August flew to set the
+jug of beer on a little round table, and fill a long clay pipe; for
+their father was good to them all, and seldom raised his voice in
+anger, and they had been trained by the mother they had loved to
+dutifulness and obedience and a watchful affection.</p>
+
+<p>To-night Karl Strehla responded very wearily to the young ones'
+welcome, and came to the wooden chair with a tired step and sat down
+heavily, not noticing either pipe or beer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you not well, dear father?&quot; his daughter asked him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am well enough,&quot; he answered, dully and sat there with his head
+bent, letting the lighted pipe grow cold.</p>
+
+<p>He was a fair, tall man, gray before his time, and bowed with labour.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take the children to bed,&quot; he said, suddenly, at last, and Dorothea
+obeyed. August stayed behind, curled before the stove; at nine years
+old, and when one earns money in the summer from the farmers, one is
+not altogether a child any more, at least in one's own estimation.</p>
+
+<p>August did not heed his father's silence: he was used to it. Karl
+Strehla was a man of few words, and, being of weakly health, was
+usually too tired at the end of the day to do more than drink his beer
+and sleep. August lay on the wolfskin dreamy and comfortable, looking
+up through his drooping eyelids at the golden coronets on the crest of
+the great stove, and wondering for the millionth time whom it had been
+made for, and what grand places and scenes it had known.</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea came down from putting the little ones in their beds; the
+cuckoo-clock in the corner struck eight; she looked to her father and
+the untouched pipe, then sat down to her spinning, saying nothing. She
+thought he had been drinking in some tavern; it had been often so with
+him of late.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence; the cuckoo called the quarter twice; August
+dropped asleep, his curls falling over his face; Dorothea's wheel
+hummed like a cat.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Karl Strehla struck his hand on the table, sending the pipe
+to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have sold Hirschvogel,&quot; he said; and his voice was husky and
+ashamed in his throat. The spinning-wheel stopped. August sprang erect
+out of his sleep.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sold Hirschvogel!&quot; If their father had dashed the holy crucifix on
+the floor at their feet and spat on it, they could not have shuddered
+under the horror of a greater blasphemy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have sold Hirschvogel!&quot; said Karl Strehla, in the same husky,
+dogged voice. &quot;I have sold it to a travelling trader in such things
+for two hundred florins. What would you?&mdash;I owe double that. He saw it
+this morning when you were all out. He will pack it and take it to
+Munich to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea gave a low shrill cry:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, father?&mdash;the children&mdash;in midwinter!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned white as the snow without; her words died away in her
+throat.</p>
+
+<p>August stood, half blind with sleep, staring with dazed eyes as his
+cattle stared at the sun when they came out from their winter's
+prison.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not true. It is not true!&quot; he muttered. &quot;You are jesting,
+father?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Strehla broke into a dreary laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is true. Would you like to know what is true too? that the bread
+you eat, and the meat you put in this pot, and the roof you have over
+your heads, are none of them paid for, have been none of them paid
+for, for months and months; if it had not been for your grandfather I
+should have been in prison all summer and autumn, and he is out of
+patience and will do no more now. There is no work to be had; the
+masters go to younger men: they say I work ill; it may be so. Who can
+keep his head above water with ten hungry children dragging him down?
+When your mother lived it was different. Boy, you stare at me as if I
+were a mad dog. You have made a god of yon china thing. Well&mdash;it goes,
+goes to-morrow. Two hundred florins, that is something. It will keep
+me out of prison for a little and with the spring things may turn&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August stood like a creature paralysed. His eyes were wide open,
+fastened on his father's with terror and incredulous horror; his face
+had grown as white as his sister's; his chest heaved with tearless
+sobs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not true! It is not true!&quot; he echoed stupidly. It seemed to him
+that the very skies must fall, and the earth perish, if they could
+take away Hirschvogel. They might as soon talk of tearing down God's
+sun out of the heavens.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will find it true,&quot; said his father, doggedly, and angered
+because he was in his own soul bitterly ashamed to have bartered away
+the heirloom and treasure of his race, and the comfort and healthgiver
+of his young children. &quot;You will find it true. The dealer has paid me
+half the money to-night, and will pay me the other half to-morrow when
+he packs it up and takes it away to Munich. No doubt it is worth a
+great deal more&mdash;at least I suppose so, as he gives that&mdash;but beggars
+cannot be choosers. The little black stove in the kitchen will warm
+you all just as well. Who would keep a gilded, painted thing in a poor
+house like this, when one can make two hundred florins by it?
+Dorothea, you never sobbed more when your mother died. What is it,
+when all is said?&mdash;a bit of hardware, much too grand-looking for such
+a room as this. If all the Strehlas had not been born fools it would
+have been sold a century ago, when it was dug up out of the ground.
+'It is a stove for a museum,' the trader said when he saw it. 'To a
+museum let it go.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August gave a shrill shriek like a hare's when it is caught for its
+death, and threw himself on his knees at his father's feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, father, father!&quot; he cried, convulsively, his hands closing on
+Strehla's knees, and his uplifted face blanched and distorted with
+terror. &quot;Oh, father, dear father, you cannot mean what you say? Send
+<i>it</i> away&mdash;our life, our sun, our joy, our comfort? we shall all die
+in the dark and the cold. Sell <i>me</i> rather. Sell me to any trade or
+any pain you like; I will not mind. But Hirschvogel! it is like
+selling the very cross off the altar! You must be in jest. You could
+not do such a thing&mdash;you could not&mdash;you who have always been gentle
+and good, and who have sat in the warmth here year after year with our
+mother. It is not a piece of hardware, as you say; it is a living
+thing, for a great man's thoughts and fancies have put life into it,
+and it loves us, though we are only poor little children, and we love
+it with all our hearts and souls, and up in heaven I am sure the dead
+Hirschvogel knows! Oh, listen; I will go and try and get work
+to-morrow; I will ask them to let me cut ice or make the paths through
+the snow. There must be something I could do, and I will beg the
+people we owe money to, to wait; they are all neighbours, they will be
+patient. But sell Hirschvogel! oh, never! never! never! Give the
+florins back to the vile man. Tell him it would be like selling the
+shroud out of mother's coffin, or the golden curls off Ermengilda's
+head! Oh, father, dear father! do hear me, for pity's sake!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Strehla was moved by the boy's anguish. He loved his children, though
+he was often weary of them, and their pain was pain to him. But beside
+emotion, and stronger than emotion, was the anger that August roused
+in him: he hated and despised himself for the barter of the heirloom
+of his race, and every word of the child stung him with a stinging
+sense of shame.</p>
+
+<p>And he spoke in his wrath rather than in his sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a little fool,&quot; he said, harshly, as they had never heard him
+speak. &quot;You rave like a play-actor. Get up and go to bed. The stove is
+sold. There is no more to be said. Children like you have nothing to
+do with such matters. The stove is sold, and goes to Munich to-morrow.
+What is it to you? Be thankful I can get bread for you. Get on your
+legs, I say, and go to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Strehla took up the jug of ale as he paused, and drained it slowly as
+a man who had no cares.</p>
+
+<p>August sprang to his feet and threw his hair back off his face; the
+blood rushed into his cheeks, making them scarlet: his great soft eyes
+flamed alight with furious passion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You <i>dare</i> not!&quot; he cried, aloud, &quot;you dare not sell it, I say! It
+is not yours alone; it is ours&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Strehla flung the emptied jug on the bricks with a force that shivered
+it to atoms, and, rising to his feet, struck his son a blow that
+felled him to the floor. It was the first time in all his life that he
+had ever raised his hand against any one of his children.</p>
+
+<p>Then he took the oil-lamp that stood at his elbow and stumbled off to
+his own chamber with a cloud before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What has happened?&quot; said August, a little while later, as he opened
+his eyes and saw Dorothea weeping above him on the wolfskin before the
+stove. He had been struck backward, and his head had fallen on the
+hard bricks where the wolfskin did not reach. He sat up a moment, with
+his face bent upon his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I remember now,&quot; he said, very low, under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea showered kisses on him, while her tears fell like rain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, oh, dear, how could you speak so to father?&quot; she murmured. &quot;It
+was very wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I was right,&quot; said August, and his little mouth, that hitherto
+had only curled in laughter, curved downward with a fixed and bitter
+seriousness. &quot;How dare he? How dare he?&quot; he muttered, with his head
+sunk in his hands. &quot;It is not his alone. It belongs to us all. It is
+as much yours and mine as it is his.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea could only sob in answer. She was too frightened to speak.
+The authority of their parents in the house had never in her
+remembrance been questioned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you hurt by the fall dear August?&quot; she murmured, at length, for
+he looked to her so pale and strange.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;no. I do not know. What does it matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He sat up upon the wolfskin with passionate pain upon his face; all
+his soul was in rebellion, and he was only a child and was powerless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a sin; it is a theft; it is an infamy,&quot; he said slowly, his
+eyes fastened on the gilded feet of Hirschvogel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, August, do not say such things of father!&quot; sobbed his sister.
+&quot;Whatever he does, <i>we</i> ought to think it right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it right that he should spend his money in drink?&mdash;that he should
+let orders lie unexecuted?&mdash;that he should do his work so ill that no
+one cares to employ him?&mdash;that he should live on grandfather's
+charity, and then dare sell a thing that is ours every whit as much as
+it is his? To sell Hirschvogel! Oh, dear God! I would sooner sell my
+soul!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;August!&quot; cried Dorothea, with piteous entreaty. He terrified her, she
+could not recognise her little, gay, gentle brother in those fierce
+and blasphemous words.</p>
+
+<p>August laughed aloud again; then all at once his laughter broke down
+into bitterest weeping. He threw himself forward on the stove,
+covering it with kisses, and sobbing as though his heart would burst
+from his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>What could he do? Nothing, nothing, nothing!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;August, dear August,&quot; whispered Dorothea piteously, and trembling all
+over&mdash;for she was a very gentle girl, and fierce feeling terrified
+her&mdash;&quot;August, do not lie there. Come to bed: it is quite late. In the
+morning you will be calmer. It is horrible indeed, and we shall die of
+cold, at least the little ones; but if it be father's will&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me alone,&quot; said August, through his teeth, striving to still the
+storm of sobs that shook him from head to foot. &quot;Let me alone. In the
+morning!&mdash;how can you speak of the morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come to bed, dear,&quot; sighed his sister. &quot;Oh, August, do not lie and
+look like that! you frighten me. Do come to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall stay here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here! all night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They might take it in the night. Besides, to leave it <i>now</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it is cold! the fire is out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will never be warm any more, nor shall we.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All his childhood had gone out of him, all his gleeful, careless,
+sunny temper had gone with it; he spoke sullenly and wearily, choking
+down the great sobs in his chest. To him it was as if the end of the
+world had come.</p>
+
+<p>His sister lingered by him while striving to persuade him to go to his
+place in the little crowded bedchamber with Albrecht and Waldo and
+Christof. But it was in vain. &quot;I shall stay here,&quot; was all he answered
+her. And he stayed&mdash;all the night long.</p>
+
+<p>The lamps went out; the rats came and ran across the floor; as the
+hours crept on through midnight and past, the cold intensified and the
+air of the room grew like ice. August did not move; he lay with his
+face downward on the golden and rainbow hued pedestal of the household
+treasure, which henceforth was to be cold for evermore, an exiled
+thing in a foreign city in a far-off land.</p>
+
+<p>Whilst yet it was dark his three elder brothers came down the stairs
+and let themselves out, each bearing his lantern and going to his work
+in stone-yard and timber-yard and at the salt-works. They did not
+notice him; they did not know what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>A little later his sister came down with a light in her hand to make
+ready the house ere morning should break.</p>
+
+<p>She stole up to him and laid her hand on his shoulder timidly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear August, you must be frozen. August, do look up! do speak!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August raised his eyes with a wild, feverish, sullen look in them that
+she had never seen there. His face was ashen white: his lips were like
+fire. He had not slept all night; but his passionate sobs had given
+way to delirious waking dreams and numb senseless trances, which had
+alternated one on another all through the freezing, lonely, horrible
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will never be warm again,&quot; he muttered, &quot;never again!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dorothea clasped him with trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;August! do you not know me!&quot; she cried, in an agony. &quot;I am Dorothea.
+Wake up, dear&mdash;wake up! It is morning, only so dark!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August shuddered all over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The morning!&quot; he echoed.</p>
+
+<p>He slowly rose up on to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go to grandfather,&quot; he said, very low. &quot;He is always good:
+perhaps he could save it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Loud blows with the heavy iron knocker of the house-door drowned his
+words. A strange voice called aloud through the keyhole:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me in! Quick!&mdash;there is no time to lose! More snow like this, and
+the roads will be all blocked. Let me in. Do you hear? I am come to
+take the great stove.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August sprang erect, his fists doubled, his eyes blazing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You shall never touch it!&quot; he screamed; &quot;you shall never touch it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who shall prevent us?&quot; laughed a big man, who was a Bavarian, amused
+at the fierce little figure fronting him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I!&quot; said August &quot;You shall never have it! you shall kill me first!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Strehla,&quot; said the big man, as August's father entered the room,
+&quot;you have got a little mad dog here: muzzle him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One way and another they did muzzle him. He fought like a little
+demon, and hit out right and left, and one of his blows gave the
+Bavarian a black eye. But he was soon mastered by four grown men, and
+his father flung him with no light hand out from the door of the back
+entrance, and the buyers of the stately and beautiful stove set to
+work to pack it heedfully and carry it away.</p>
+
+<p>When Dorothea stole out to look for August, he was nowhere in sight.
+She went back to little 'Gilda, who was ailing, and sobbed over the
+child, whilst the others stood looking on, dimly understanding that
+with Hirschvogel was going all the warmth of their bodies, all the
+light of their hearth.</p>
+
+<p>Even their father now was very sorry and ashamed; but two hundred
+florins seemed a big sum to him, and, after all, he thought the
+children could warm themselves quite as well at the black iron stove
+in the kitchen. Besides, whether he regretted it now or not, the work
+of the N&uuml;rnberg potter was sold irrevocably, and he had to stand still
+and see the men from Munich wrap it in manifold wrappings and bear it
+out into the snowy air to where an ox-cart stood in waiting for it.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment Hirschvogel was gone&mdash;gone forever and aye.</p>
+
+<p>August stood still for a time, leaning, sick and faint from the
+violence that had been used to him, against the back wall of the
+house. The wall looked on a court where a well was, and the backs of
+other houses, and beyond them the spire of the Muntze Tower and the
+peaks of the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>Into the court an old neighbour hobbled for water, and, seeing the
+boy, said to him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Child, is it true your father is selling the big painted stove?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August nodded his head, then burst into a passion of tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, for sure he is a fool,&quot; said the neighbour. &quot;Heaven forgive me
+for calling him so before his own child! but the stove was worth a
+mint of money. I do remember in my young days, in old Anton's time
+(that was your great-grandfather, my lad), a stranger from Vienna saw
+it, and said that it was worth its weight in gold.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August's sobs went on their broken, impetuous course.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I loved it! I loved it!&quot; he moaned. &quot;I do not care what its value
+was. I loved it! <i>I loved it</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You little simpleton!&quot; said the old man, kindly. &quot;But you are wiser
+than your father, when all's said. If sell it he must, he should have
+taken it to good Herr Steiner over at Spr&uuml;z, who would have given him
+honest value. But no doubt they took him over his beer, ay, ay! but if
+I were you I would do better than cry. I would go after it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August raised his head, the tears raining down his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go after it when you are bigger,&quot; said the neighbour, with a
+good-natured wish to cheer him up a little. &quot;The world is a small
+thing after all: I was a travelling clockmaker once upon a time, and I
+know that your stove will be safe enough whoever gets it; anything
+that can be sold for a round sum is always wrapped up in cotton wool
+by everybody. Ay, ay, don't cry so much; you will see your stove again
+some day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the old man hobbled away to draw his brazen pail full of water at
+the well.</p>
+
+<p>August remained leaning against the wall; his head was buzzing and his
+heart fluttering with the new idea which had presented itself to his
+mind. &quot;Go after it,&quot; had said the old man. He thought, &quot;Why not go
+with it?&quot; He loved it better than anyone, even better than Dorothea;
+and he shrank from the thought of meeting his father again, his father
+who had sold Hirschvogel.</p>
+
+<p>He was by this time in that state of exaltation in which the
+impossible looks quite natural and commonplace. His tears were still
+wet on his pale cheeks, but they had ceased to fall. He ran out of the
+court-yard by a little gate, and across to the huge Gothic porch of
+the church. From there he could watch unseen his father's house-door,
+at which were always hanging some blue-and-gray pitchers, such as are
+common and so picturesque in Austria, for a part of the house was let
+to a man who dealt in pottery.</p>
+
+<p>He hid himself in the grand portico, which he had so often passed
+through to go to mass or compline within, and presently his heart gave
+a great leap, for he saw the straw-enwrapped stove brought out and
+laid with infinite care on the bullock-dray. Two of the Bavarian men
+mounted beside it, and the sleigh-wagon slowly crept over the snow of
+the place&mdash;snow crisp and hard as stone. The noble old minster looked
+its grandest and most solemn, with its dark-gray stone and its vast
+archways, and its porch that was itself as big as many a church, and
+its strange gargoyles and lamp-irons black against the snow on its
+roof and on the pavement; but for once August had no eyes for it; he
+only watched for his old friend. Then he, a little unnoticeable figure
+enough, like a score of other boys in Hall, crept, unseen by any of
+his brothers or sisters, out of the porch and over the shelving uneven
+square, and followed in the wake of the dray.</p>
+
+<p>Its course lay toward the station of the railway, which is close to
+the salt-works, whose smoke at times sullies this part of clean little
+Hall, though it does not do very much damage. From Hall the iron road
+runs northward through glorious country to Salzburg, Vienna, Prague,
+Buda, and southward over the Brenner into Italy. Was Hirschvogel going
+north or south? This at least he would soon know.</p>
+
+<p>August had often hung about the little station, watching the trains
+come and go and dive into the heart of the hills and vanish. No one
+said anything to him for idling about; people are kind-hearted and
+easy of temper in this pleasant land, and children and dogs are both
+happy there. He heard the Bavarians arguing and vociferating a great
+deal, and learned that they meant to go too and wanted to go with the
+great stove itself. But this they could not do, for neither could the
+stove go by a passenger train nor they themselves go in a goods-train.
+So at length they insured their precious burden for a large sum, and
+consented to send it by a luggage train which was to pass through Hall
+in half an hour. The swift trains seldom deign to notice the existence
+of Hall at all.</p>
+
+<p>August heard, and a desperate resolve made itself up in his little
+mind. Where Hirschvogel went would he go. He gave one terrible thought
+to Dorothea&mdash;poor, gentle Dorothea!&mdash;sitting in the cold at home, then
+set to work to execute his project. How he managed it he never knew
+very clearly himself, but certain it is that when the goods-train from
+the north, that had come all the way from Linz on the Danube, moved
+out of Hall, August was hidden behind the stove in the great covered
+truck, and wedged, unseen and undreamt of by any human creature,
+amidst the cases of wood-carving, of clocks and clock-work, of Vienna
+toys, of Turkish carpets, of Russian skins, of Hungarian wines, which
+shared the same abode as did his swathed and bound Hirschvogel. No
+doubt he was very naughty, but it never occurred to him that he was
+so: his whole mind and soul were absorbed in the one entrancing idea,
+to follow his beloved friend and fire-king.</p>
+
+<p>It was very dark in the closed truck, which had only a little window
+above the door; and it was crowded, and had a strong smell in it from
+the Russian hides and the hams that were in it. But August was not
+frightened; he was close to Hirschvogel, and presently he meant to be
+closer still; for he meant to do nothing less than get inside
+Hirschvogel itself. Being a shrewd little boy, and having had by great
+luck two silver groschen in his breeches-pocket, which he had earned
+the day before by chopping wood, he had bought some bread and sausage
+at the station of a woman there who knew him, and who thought he was
+going out to his uncle Joachim's ch&acirc;let above Jenbach. This he had
+with him, and this he ate in the darkness and the lumbering, pounding,
+thundering noise which made him giddy, as never had he been in a train
+of any kind before. Still he ate, having had no breakfast, and being a
+child, and half a German, and not knowing at all how or when he ever
+would eat again.</p>
+
+<p>When he had eaten, not as much as he wanted, but as much as he thought
+was prudent (for who could say when he would be able to buy anything
+more?), he set to work like a little mouse to make a hole in the
+withes of straw and hay which enveloped the stove. If it had been put
+in a packing-case he would have been defeated at the onset. As it was,
+he gnawed, and nibbled, and pulled, and pushed, just as a mouse would
+have done, making his hole where he guessed that the opening of the
+stove was&mdash;the opening through which he had so often thrust the big
+oak logs to feed it. No one disturbed him; the heavy train went
+lumbering on and on, and he saw nothing at all of the beautiful
+mountains, and shining waters, and great forests through which he was
+being carried. He was hard at work getting through the straw and hay
+and twisted ropes; and get through them at last he did, and found the
+door of the stove, which he knew so well, and which was quite large
+enough for a child of his age to slip through, and it was this which
+he had counted upon doing. Slip through he did, as he had often done
+at home for fun, and curled himself up there to see if he could anyhow
+remain during many hours. He found that he could; air came in through
+the brass fretwork of the stove; and with admirable caution in such a
+little fellow he leaned out, drew the hay and straw together,
+rearranged the ropes, so that no one could ever have dreamed a little
+mouse had been at them. Then he curled himself up again, this time
+more like a dormouse than anything else; and, being safe inside his
+dear Hirschvogel and intensely cold, he went fast asleep as if he were
+in his own bed at home with Albrecht, and Christof on either side of
+him. The train lumbered on, stopped often and long, as the habit of
+goods-trains is, sweeping the snow away with its cow-switcher, and
+rumbling through the deep heart of the mountains, with its lamps aglow
+like the eyes of a dog in a night of frost.</p>
+
+<p>The train rolled on in its heavy, slow fashion, and the child slept
+soundly, for a long while. When he did awake, it was quite dark
+outside in the land; he could not see, and of course he was in
+absolute darkness; and for a while he was solely frightened, and
+trembled terribly, and sobbed in a quiet heart-broken fashion,
+thinking of them all at home. Poor Dorothea! how anxious she would be!
+How she would run over the town and walk up to grandfather's at Dorf
+Ampas, and perhaps even send over to Jenbach, thinking he had taken
+refuge with Uncle Joachim! His conscience smote him for the sorrow he
+must be even then causing to his gentle sister; but it never occurred
+to him to try and go back. If he once were to lose sight of
+Hirschvogel how could he ever hope to find it again? how could he ever
+know whither it had gone&mdash;north, south, east or west? The old
+neighbour had said that the world was small; but August knew at least
+that it must have a great many places in it; that he had seen himself
+on the maps on his school-house walls. Almost any other little boy
+would, I think, have been frightened out of his wits at the position
+in which he found himself; but August was brave, and he had a firm
+belief that God and Hirschvogel would take care of him. The
+master-potter of N&uuml;rnberg was always present to his mind, a kindly,
+benign, and gracious spirit, dwelling manifestly in that porcelain
+tower whereof he had been the maker.</p>
+
+<p>A droll fancy, you say? But every child with a soul in him has quite
+as quaint fancies as this one was of August's.</p>
+
+<p>So he got over his terror and his sobbing both, though he was so
+utterly in the dark. He did not feel cramped at all, because the stove
+was so large, and air he had in plenty, as it came through the
+fretwork running round the top. He was hungry again, and again nibbled
+with prudence at his loaf and his sausage. He could not at all tell
+the hour. Every time the train stopped and he heard the banging,
+stamping, shouting, and jangling of chains that went on, his heart
+seemed to jump up into his mouth. If they should find him out!
+Sometimes porters came and took away this case and the other, a sack
+here, a bale there, now a big bag, now a dead chamois. Every time the
+men trampled near him, and swore at each other, and banged this and
+that to and fro, he was so frightened that his very breath seemed to
+stop. When they came to lift the stove out, would they find him? and
+if they did find him, would they kill him? That was what he kept
+thinking of all the way, all through the dark hours, which seemed
+without end. The goods-trains are usually very slow, and are many days
+doing what a quick train does in a few hours. This one was quicker
+than most, because it was bearing goods to the King of Bavaria; still,
+it took all the short winter's day and the long winter's night and
+half another day to go over ground that the mail-trains cover in a
+forenoon. It passed great armoured Kuffstein standing across the
+beautiful and solemn gorge, denying the right of way to all the foes
+of Austria. It passed twelve hours later, after lying by in
+out-of-the-way stations, pretty Rosenheim, that marks the border of
+Bavaria. And here the N&uuml;rnberg stove, with August inside it, was
+lifted out heedfully and set under a covered way. When it was lifted
+out, the boy had hard work to keep in his screams; he was tossed to
+and fro as the men lifted the huge thing, and the earthenware walls of
+his beloved fire-king were not cushions of down. However, though they
+swore and grumbled at the weight of it, they never suspected that a
+living child was inside it, and they carried it out on to the platform
+and set it down under the roof of the goods-shed. There it passed the
+rest of the night and all the next morning, and August was all the
+while within it.</p>
+
+<p>The winds of early winter sweep bitterly over Rosenheim, and all the
+vast Bavarian plain was one white sheet of snow. If there had not been
+whole armies of men at work always clearing the iron rails of the
+snow, no trains could ever have run at all. Happily for August, the
+thick wrappings in which the stove was enveloped and the stoutness of
+its own make screened him from the cold, of which, else, he must have
+died&mdash;frozen. He had still some of his loaf, and a little&mdash;a very
+little&mdash;of his sausage. What he did begin to suffer from was thirst;
+and this frightened him almost more than anything else, for Dorothea
+had read aloud to them one night a story of the tortures some wrecked
+men had endured because they could not find any water but the salt
+sea. It was many hours since he had last taken a drink from the
+wooden spout of their old pump, which brought them the sparkling,
+ice-cold water of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>But, fortunately for him, the stove having been marked and registered
+as &quot;fragile and valuable,&quot; was not treated quite like a mere bale of
+goods, and the Rosenheim stationmaster, who knew its consignees,
+resolved to send it on by a passenger-train that would leave there at
+daybreak. And when this train went out, in it, among piles of luggage
+belonging to other travellers, to Vienna, Prague, Buda-Pest, Salzburg,
+was August, still undiscovered, still doubled up like a mole in the
+winter under the grass. Those words, &quot;fragile and valuable,&quot; had made
+the men lift Hirschvogel gently and with care. He had begun to get
+used to his prison, and a little used to the incessant pounding and
+jumbling and rattling and shaking with which modern travel is always
+accompanied, though modern invention does deem itself so mightily
+clever. All in the dark he was, and he was terribly thirsty; but he
+kept feeling the earthenware sides of the N&uuml;rnberg giant and saying,
+softly, &quot;Take care of me; oh, take care of me, dear Hirschvogel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did not say, &quot;Take me back;&quot; for, now that he was fairly out in the
+world, he wished to see a little of it. He began to think that they
+must have been all over the world in all this time that the rolling
+and roaring and hissing and jangling had been about his ears; shut up
+in the dark, he began to remember all the tales that had been told in
+Yule round the fire at his grandfather's good house at Dorf, of gnomes
+and elves and subterranean terrors, and the Erl King riding on the
+black horse of night, and&mdash;and&mdash;and he began to sob and to tremble
+again, and this time did scream outright. But the steam was screaming
+itself so loudly that no one, had there been anyone nigh, would have
+heard him; and in another minute or so the train stopped with a jar
+and a jerk, and he in his cage could hear men crying aloud, &quot;M&uuml;nchen!
+M&uuml;nchen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he knew enough of geography to know that he was in the heart of
+Bavaria. He had had an uncle killed in the Bayerischenwald by the
+Bavarian forest guards, when in the excitement of hunting a black bear
+he had overpassed the limits of the Tyrol frontier.</p>
+
+<p>That fate of his kinsman, a gallant young chamois-hunter who had
+taught him to handle a trigger and load a muzzle, made the very name
+of Bavaria a terror to August.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is Bavaria! It is Bavaria!&quot; he sobbed to the stove; but the stove
+said nothing to him; it had no fire in it. A stove can no more speak
+without fire than a man can see without light. Give it fire, and it
+will sing to you, tell tales to you, offer you in return all the
+sympathy you ask.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is Bavaria!&quot; sobbed August; for it is always a name of dread
+augury to the Tyroleans, by reason of those bitter struggles and
+midnight shots and untimely deaths which come from those meetings of
+j&auml;ger and hunter in the Bayerischenwald. But the train stopped; Munich
+was reached, and August, hot and cold by turns, and shaking like a
+little aspen-leaf, felt himself once more carried out on the shoulders
+of men, rolled along on a truck, and finally set down, where he knew
+not, only he knew he was thirsty&mdash;so thirsty! If only he could have
+reached his hand out and scooped up a little snow!</p>
+
+<p>He thought he had been moved on this truck many miles, but in truth
+the stove had been only taken from the railway-station to a shop in
+the Marienplatz. Fortunately, the stove was always set upright on its
+four gilded feet, an injunction to that effect having been affixed to
+its written label, and on its gilded feet it stood now in the small
+dark curiosity-shop of one Hans Rhilfer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall not unpack it till Anton comes,&quot; he heard a man's voice say;
+and then he heard a key grate in a lock, and by the unbroken stillness
+that ensued he concluded he was alone, and ventured to peep through
+the straw and hay. What he saw was a small square room filled with
+pots and pans, pictures, carvings, old blue jugs, old steel armour,
+shields, daggers, Chinese idols, Vienna china, Turkish rugs, and all
+the art lumber and fabricated rubbish of a <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> dealer's. It
+seemed a wonderful place to him; but, oh! was there one drop of water
+in it all? That was his single thought; for his tongue was parching,
+and his throat felt on fire, and his chest began to be dry and choked
+as with dust. There was not a drop of water, but there was a lattice
+window grated, and beyond the window was a wide stone ledge covered
+with snow. August cast one look at the locked door, darted out of his
+hiding place, ran and opened the window, crammed the snow into his
+mouth again and again, and then flew back into the stove, drew the hay
+and straw over the place he entered by, tied the cords, and shut the
+brass door down on himself. He had brought some big icicles in with
+him, and by them his thirst was finally, if only temporarily,
+quenched. Then he sat still in the bottom of the stove, listening
+intently, wide awake, and once more recovering his natural boldness.</p>
+
+<p>The thought of Dorothea kept nipping his heart and his conscience with
+a hard squeeze now and then; but he thought to himself, &quot;If I can take
+her back Hirschvogel then how pleased she will be, and how little
+'Gilda will clap her hands!&quot; He was not at all selfish in his love for
+Hirschvogel: he wanted it for them all at home quite as much as for
+himself. There was at the bottom of his mind a kind of ache of shame
+that his father&mdash;his own father&mdash;should have stripped their hearth and
+sold their honour thus.</p>
+
+<p>A robin had been perched upon a stone griffin sculptured on a
+house-eave near. August had felt for the crumbs of his loaf in his
+pocket, and had thrown them to the little bird sitting so easily on
+the frozen snow.</p>
+
+<p>In the darkness where he was he now heard a little song, made faint by
+the stove-wall and the window-glass that was between him and it, but
+still distinct and exquisitely sweet. It was the robin, singing after
+feeding on the crumbs. August, as he heard, burst into tears. He
+thought of Dorothea, who every morning threw out some grain or some
+bread on the snow before the church. &quot;What use is it going <i>there</i>,&quot;
+she said, &quot;if we forget the sweetest creatures God has made?&quot; Poor
+Dorothea! Poor, good, tender, much-burdened little soul! He thought of
+her till his tears ran like rain.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it never once occurred to him to dream of going home. Hirschvogel
+was here.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the key turned in the lock of the door; he heard heavy
+footsteps and the voice of the man who had said to his father, &quot;You
+have a little mad dog; muzzle him!&quot; The voice said, &quot;Ay, ay, you have
+called me a fool many times. Now you shall see what I have gotten for
+two hundred dirty florins. <i>Potztausend</i>! never did <i>you</i> do such a
+stroke of work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the other voice grumbled and swore, and the steps of the two men
+approached more closely, and the heart of the child went pit-a-pat,
+pit-a-pat, as a mouse's does when it is on the top of a cheese and
+hears a housemaid's broom sweeping near. They began to strip the stove
+of its wrappings: that he could tell by the noise they made with the
+hay and the straw. Soon they had stripped it wholly; that too, he
+knew by the oaths and exclamations of wonder and surprise and rapture
+which broke from the man who had not seen it before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A right royal thing! A wonderful and never-to-be-rivalled thing!
+Grander than the great stove of Hohen-Salzburg! Sublime! magnificent!
+matchless!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the epithets ran on in thick guttural voices, diffusing a smell of
+lager-beer so strong as they spoke that it reached August crouching in
+his stronghold. If they should open the door of the stove! That was
+his frantic fear. If they should open it, it would be all over with
+him. They would drag him out; most likely they would kill him, he
+thought, as his mother's young brother had been killed in the Wald.</p>
+
+<p>The perspiration rolled off his forehead in his agony; but he had
+control enough over himself to keep quiet, and after standing by the
+N&uuml;rnberg master's work for nigh an hour, praising, marvelling,
+expatiating in the lengthy German tongue, the men moved to a little
+distance and began talking of sums of money and divided profits, of
+which discourse he could make out no meaning. All he could make out
+was that the name of the king&mdash;the king&mdash;the king came over very often
+in their arguments. He fancied at times they quarrelled, for they
+swore lustily and their voices rose hoarse and high; but after a while
+they seemed to pacify each other and agree to something, and were in
+great glee, and so in these merry spirits came and slapped the
+luminous sides of stately Hirschvogel, and shouted to it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Old Mumchance, you have brought us rare good luck! To think you were
+smoking in a silly fool of a salt-baker's kitchen all these years!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then inside the stove August jumped up, with flaming cheeks and
+clinching hands, and was almost on the point of shouting out to them
+that they were the thieves and should say no evil of his father, when
+he remembered, just in time, that to breathe a word or make a sound
+was to bring ruin on himself and sever him forever from Hirschvogel.
+So he kept quite still, and the men barred the shutters of the little
+lattice and went out by the door, double-locking it after them. He had
+made out from their talk that they were going to show Hirschvogel to
+some great person: therefore he kept quite still and dared not move.</p>
+
+<p>Muffled sounds came to him through the shutters from the streets
+below&mdash;the rolling of wheels, the clanging of church-bells, and bursts
+of that military music which is so seldom silent in the streets of
+Munich. An hour perhaps passed by; sounds of steps on the stairs kept
+him in perpetual apprehension. In the intensity of his anxiety, he
+forgot that he was hungry and many miles away from cheerful, Old World
+little Hall, lying by the clear gray river-water, with the ramparts of
+the mountains all round.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the door opened again sharply. He could hear the two
+dealers' voices murmuring unctuous words, in which &quot;honour,&quot;
+&quot;gratitude,&quot; and many fine long noble titles played the chief parts.
+The voice of another person, more clear and refined than theirs,
+answered them curtly, and then, close by the N&uuml;rnberg stove and the
+boy's ear, ejaculated a single &quot;<i>Wundersch&ouml;n</i>!&quot; August almost lost his
+terror for himself in his thrill of pride at his beloved Hirschvogel
+being thus admired in the great city. He thought the master-potter
+must be glad too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Wundersch&ouml;n</i>!&quot; ejaculated the stranger a second time, and then
+examined the stove in all its parts, read all its mottoes, gazed long
+on all its devices.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It must have been made for the Emperor Maximilian,&quot; he said at last;
+and the poor little boy, meanwhile, within, was &quot;hugged up into
+nothing,&quot; as you children say, dreading that every moment he would
+open the stove. And open it truly he did, and examined the brass-work
+of the door; but inside it was so dark that crouching August passed
+unnoticed, screwed up into a ball like a hedgehog as he was. The
+gentleman shut to the door at length, without having seen anything
+strange inside it; and then he talked long and low with the tradesmen,
+and, as his accent was different from that which August was used to,
+the child could distinguish little that he said, except the name of
+the king and the word &quot;gulden&quot; again and again. After a while he went
+away, one of the dealers accompanying him, one of them lingering
+behind to bar up the shutters. Then this one also withdrew again,
+double-locking the door.</p>
+
+<p>The poor little hedgehog uncurled itself and dared to breathe aloud.</p>
+
+<p>What time was it?</p>
+
+<p>Late in the day, he thought, for to accompany the stranger they had
+lighted a lamp; he had heard the scratch of the match, and through the
+brass fretwork had seen the lines of light.</p>
+
+<p>He would have to pass the night here, that was certain. He and
+Hirschvogel were locked in, but at least they were together. If only
+he could have had something to eat! He thought with a pang of how at
+this hour at home they ate the sweet soup, sometimes with apples in it
+from Aunt Ma&iuml;la's farm orchard, and sang together, and listened to
+Dorothea's reading of little tales, and basked in the glow and delight
+that had beamed on them from the great N&uuml;rnberg fire-king.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, poor, poor little 'Gilda! What is she doing without the dear
+Hirschvogel?&quot; he thought. Poor little 'Gilda! she had only now the
+black iron stove of the ugly little kitchen. Oh, how cruel of father!</p>
+
+<p>August could not bear to hear the dealers blame or laugh at his
+father, but he did feel that it had been so, so cruel to sell
+Hirschvogel. The mere memory of all those long winter evenings, when
+they had all closed round it, and roasted chestnuts or crab-apples in
+it, and listened to the howling of the wind and the deep sound of the
+church-bells, and tried very much to make each other believe that the
+wolves still came down from the mountains into the streets of Hall,
+and were that very minute growling at the house door&mdash;all this memory
+coming on him with the sound of the city bells, and the knowledge that
+night drew near upon him so completely, being added to his hunger and
+his fear, so overcame him that he burst out crying for the fiftieth
+time since he had been inside the stove, and felt that he would starve
+to death, and wondered dreamily if Hirschvogel would care. Yes, he was
+sure Hirschvogel would care. Had he not decked it all summer long with
+alpine roses and edelweiss and heaths and made it sweet with thyme and
+honeysuckle and great garden-lilies? Had he ever forgotten when Santa
+Claus came to make it its crown of holly and ivy and wreathe it all
+around?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, shelter me; save me; take care of me!&quot; he prayed to the old
+fire-king, and forgot poor little man, that he had come on this
+wild-goose chase northward to save and take care of Hirschvogel!</p>
+
+<p>After a time he dropped asleep, as children can do when they weep, and
+little robust hill-born boys most surely do, be they where they may.
+It was not very cold in this lumber-room; it was tightly shut up, and
+very full of things, and at the back of it were the hot pipes of an
+adjacent house, where a great deal of fuel was burnt. Moreover,
+August's clothes were warm ones, and his blood was young. So he was
+not cold, though Munich is terribly cold in the nights of December;
+and he slept on and on&mdash;which was a comfort to him, for he forgot his
+woes, and his perils, and his hunger for a time.</p>
+
+<p>Midnight was once more chiming from all the brazen tongues of the
+city when he awoke, and, all being still around him, ventured to put
+his head out of the brass door of the stove to see why such a strange
+bright light was round him.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very strange and brilliant light indeed; and yet, what is
+perhaps still stranger, it did not frighten or amaze him, nor did what
+he saw alarm him either, and yet I think it would have done you or me.
+For what he saw was nothing less than all the <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> in motion.</p>
+
+<p>A big jug, an Apostel-Krug, of Kruessen, was solemnly dancing a minuet
+with a plump Faenza jar; a tall Dutch clock was going through a
+gavotte with a spindle-legged ancient chair; a very droll porcelain
+figure of Zitzenhausen was bowing to a very stiff soldier in <i>terre
+cuite</i> of Ulm; an old violin of Cremona was playing itself, and a
+queer little shrill plaintive music that thought itself merry came
+from a painted spinet covered with faded roses; some gilt Spanish
+leather had got up on the wall and laughed; a Dresden mirror was
+tripping about, crowned with flowers, and a Japanese bonze was riding
+along on a griffin; a slim Venetian rapier had come to blows with a
+stout Ferrara sabre, all about a little pale-faced chit of a damsel in
+white Nymphenburg china; and a portly Franconian pitcher in <i>gr&egrave;s
+gris</i> was calling aloud, &quot;Oh, these Italians! always at feud!&quot; But
+nobody listened to him at all. A great number of little Dresden cups
+and saucers were all skipping and waltzing; the teapots, with their
+broad round faces, were spinning their own lids like teetotums; the
+high-backed gilded chairs were having a game of cards together; and a
+little Saxe poodle, with a blue ribbon at its throat, was running from
+one to another, whilst a yellow cat of Cornelis Zachtleven's rode
+about on a Delft horse in blue pottery of 1489. Meanwhile the
+brilliant light shed on the scene came from three silver candelabra,
+though they had no candles set up in them; and, what is the greatest
+miracle of all, August looked on at these mad freaks and felt no
+sensation of wonder! He only, as he heard the violin and the spinet
+playing, felt an irresistible desire to dance too.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt his face said what he wished; for a lovely little lady, all
+in pink and gold and white, with powdered hair, and high-heeled shoes,
+and all made of the very finest and fairest Meissen china, tripped up
+to him, and smiled, and gave him her hand, and led him out to a
+minuet. And he danced it perfectly&mdash;poor little August in his thick,
+clumsy shoes, and his thick, clumsy sheepskin jacket, and his rough
+homespun linen, and his broad Tyrolean hat! He must have danced it
+perfectly, this dance of kings and queens in days when crowns were
+duly honoured, for the lovely lady always smiled benignly and never
+scolded him at all, and danced so divinely herself to the stately
+measures the spinet was playing that August could not take his eyes
+off her till, the minuet ended, she sat down on her own white-and-gold
+bracket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am the Princess of Saxe-Royal,&quot; she said to him, with a benignant
+smile; &quot;and you have got through that minuet very fairly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he ventured to say to her:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Madame my princess, could you tell me kindly why some of the figures
+and furniture dance and speak, and some lie up in a corner like
+lumber? It does make me curious. Is it rude to ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For it greatly puzzled him why, when some of the <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> was all
+full of life and motion, some was quite still and had not a single
+thrill in it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear child,&quot; said the powdered lady, &quot;is it possible that you do
+not know the reason? Why, those silent, dull things are <i>imitation</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This she said with so much decision that she evidently considered it a
+condensed but complete answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Imitation?&quot; repeated August, timidly, not understanding.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course! Lies, falsehoods, fabrications!&quot; said the princess in pink
+shoes, very vivaciously. &quot;They only <i>pretend</i> to be what we are! They
+never wake up: how can they? No imitation ever had any soul in it
+yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; said August, humbly, not even sure that he understood entirely
+yet. He looked at Hirschvogel: surely it had a royal soul within it:
+would it not wake up and speak? Oh dear! how he longed to hear the
+voice of his fire-king! And he began to forget that he stood by a lady
+who sat upon a pedestal of gold-and-white china, with the year 1746
+cut on it, and the Meissen mark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What will you be when you are a man?&quot; said the little lady, sharply,
+for her black eyes were quick though her red lips were smiling. &quot;Will
+you work for the <i>Konigliche Porcellan-Manufactur</i>, like my great dead
+Kandler?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have never thought,&quot; said August, stammering; &quot;at least&mdash;that is&mdash;I
+do wish&mdash;I do hope to be a painter, as was Master Augustin Hirschvogel
+at N&uuml;rnberg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bravo!&quot; said all the real <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> in one breath, and the two
+Italian rapiers left off fighting to cry, &quot;<i>Benone</i>!&quot; For there is not
+a bit of true <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> in all Europe that does not know the names
+of the mighty masters.</p>
+
+<p>August felt quite pleased to have won so much applause, and grew as
+red as the lady's shoes with bashful contentment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew all the Hirschvogel, from old Veit downwards,&quot; said a fat
+<i>gr&egrave;s de Flandre</i> beer-jug: &quot;I myself was made at N&uuml;rnberg.&quot; And he
+bowed to the great stove very politely, taking off his own silver
+hat&mdash;I mean lid&mdash;with a courtly sweep that he could scarcely have
+learned from burgomasters. The stove, however, was silent, and a
+sickening suspicion (for what is such heart-break as a suspicion of
+what we love?) came through the mind of August: <i>Was Hirschvogel only
+imitation</i>?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, no, no!&quot; he said to himself, stoutly: though Hirschvogel
+never stirred, never spoke, yet would he keep all faith in it! After
+all their happy years together, after all the nights of warmth and joy
+he owed it, should he doubt his own friend and hero, whose gilt lion's
+feet he had kissed in his babyhood? &quot;No, no, no, no!&quot; he said, again,
+with so much emphasis that the Lady of Meissen looked sharply again at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she said, with pretty disdain; &quot;no, believe me, they may
+'pretend' forever. They can never look like us! They imitate even our
+marks, but never can they look like the real thing, never can they
+<i>chassent de race</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How should they?&quot; said a bronze statuette of Vischer's &quot;They daub
+themselves green with verdigris, or sit out in the rain to get rusted;
+but green and rust are not <i>patina</i>; only the ages can give that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And <i>my</i> imitations are all in primary colours, staring colours, hot
+as the colours of a hostelry's sign-board!&quot; said the Lady of Meissen,
+with a shiver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, there is a <i>gr&egrave;s de Flandre</i> over there, who pretends to be a
+Hans Kraut, as I am,&quot; said the jug with the silver hat, pointing with
+his handle to a jug that lay prone on its side in a corner. &quot;He has
+copied me as exactly as it is given to moderns to copy us. Almost he
+might be mistaken for me. But yet what a difference there is! How
+crude are his blues! how evidently done over the glaze are his black
+letters! He has tried to give himself my very twist; but what a
+lamentable exaggeration of that playful deviation in my lines which in
+his becomes actual deformity!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And look at that,&quot; said the gilt Cordovan leather, with a
+contemptuous glance at a broad piece of gilded leather spread out on a
+table. &quot;They will sell him cheek by jowl with me, and give him my
+name; but look! <i>I</i> am overlaid with pure gold beaten thin as a film
+and laid on me in absolute honesty by worthy Diego de las Gorgias,
+worker in leather of lovely Cordova in the blessed reign of Ferdinand
+the Most Christian. <i>His</i> gilding is one part gold to eleven other
+parts of brass and rubbish, and it has been laid on him with a
+brush&mdash;<i>a brush</i>&mdash;pah! of course he will be as black as a crock in a
+few years' time, whilst I am as bright as when I first was made, and,
+unless I am burnt as my Cordova burnt its heretics, I shall shine on
+forever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They carve pear-wood because it is so soft, and dye it brown, and
+call it <i>me</i>&quot; said an old oak cabinet, with a chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is not so painful; it does not vulgarise you so much as the cups
+they paint to-day and christen after <i>me</i>,&quot; said a Carl Theodor cup
+subdued in hue, yet gorgeous as a jewel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing can be so annoying as to see common gimcracks aping <i>me</i>,&quot;
+interposed the princess in the pink shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They even steal my motto, though it is Scripture,&quot; said a
+<i>Trauerkrug</i> of Regensburg in black-and-white.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And my own dots they put on plain English china creatures!&quot; sighed
+the little white maid of Nymphenburg.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they sell hundreds and thousands of common china plates, calling
+them after me, and baking my saints and my legends in a muffle of
+to-day; it is blasphemy!&quot; said a stout plate of Gubbio, which in its
+year of birth had seen the face of Maestro Giorgio.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is what is so terrible in these <i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> places,&quot; said the
+princess of Meissen. &quot;It brings one in contact with such low,
+imitative creatures; one really is safe nowhere nowadays unless under
+glass at the Louvre or South Kensington.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they get even there,&quot; sighed the <i>gr&egrave;s de Flandre</i>. &quot;A terrible
+thing happened to a dear friend of mine, a <i>terre cuite</i> of Blasius
+(you know the <i>terres cuites</i> of Blasius date from 1560). Well, he was
+put under glass in a museum that shall be nameless, and he found
+himself set next to his own imitation born and baked yesterday at
+Frankfort, and what think you the miserable creature said to him, with
+a grin? 'Old Pipeclay,' that is what he called my friend, 'the fellow
+that bought <i>me</i> got just as much commission on me as the fellow that
+bought <i>you</i>, and that was all that <i>he</i> thought about. You know it is
+only the public money that goes!' And the horrid creature grinned
+again till he actually cracked himself. There is a Providence above
+all things, even museums.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Providence might have interfered before, and saved the public money,&quot;
+said the little Meissen lady with the pink shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After all, does it matter?&quot; said a Dutch jar of Haarlem, &quot;All the
+shamming in the world will not <i>make</i> them us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One does not like to be vulgarised,&quot; said the Lady of Meissen,
+angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My maker, the Krabbetje,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1"><small><sup>[1]</sup></small></a> did not trouble his head about that,&quot;
+said the Haarlem jar, proudly. &quot;The Krabbetje made me for the kitchen,
+the bright, clean, snow-white Dutch kitchen, well-nigh three centuries
+ago, and now I am thought worthy the palace; yet I wish I were at
+home; yes, I wish I could see the good Dutch vrouw, and the shining
+canals, and the great green meadows dotted with the kine.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Jan Asselyn, called Krabbetje, the Little Crab, born
+1610, master-potter of Delft and Haarlem.</p></div>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! if we could all go back to our makers!&quot; sighed the Gubbio plate,
+thinking of Giorgio Andreoli and the glad and gracious days of the
+Renaissance: and somehow the words touched the frolicsome souls of the
+dancing jars, the spinning teapots, the chairs that were playing
+cards; and the violin stopped its merry music with a sob, and the
+spinet sighed&mdash;thinking of dead hands.</p>
+
+<p>Even the little Saxe poodle howled for a master forever lost; and only
+the swords went on quarrelling, and made such a clattering noise that
+the Japanese bonze rode at them on his monster and knocked them both
+right over, and they lay straight and still, looking foolish, and the
+little Nymphenburg maid, though she was crying, smiled and almost
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>Then from where the great stove stood there came a solemn voice.</p>
+
+<p>All eyes turned upon Hirschvogel, and the heart of its little human
+comrade gave a great jump of joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My friends,&quot; said that clear voice from the turret of N&uuml;rnberg
+fa&iuml;ence, &quot;I have listened to all you have said. There is too much
+talking among the Mortalities whom one of themselves has called the
+Windbags. Let not us be like them. I hear among men so much vain
+speech, so much precious breath and precious time wasted in empty
+boasts, foolish anger, useless reiteration, blatant argument, ignoble
+mouthings, that I have learned to deem speech a curse, laid on man to
+weaken and envenom all his undertakings. For over two hundred years I
+have never spoken myself: you, I hear, are not so reticent. I only
+speak now because one of you said a beautiful thing that touched me.
+If we all might but go back to our makers! Ah, yes! if we might! We
+were made in days when even men were true creatures, and so we, the
+work of their hands, were true too. We, the begotten of ancient days,
+derive all the value in us from the fact that our makers wrought at us
+with zeal, with piety, with integrity, with faith&mdash;not to win fortunes
+or to glut a market, but to do nobly an honest thing and create for
+the honour of the Arts and God. I see amidst you a little human thing
+who loves me, and in his own ignorant childish way loves Art. Now, I
+want him forever to remember this night and these words; to remember
+that we are what we are, and precious in the eyes of the world,
+because centuries ago those who were of single mind and of pure hand
+so created us, scorning sham and haste and counterfeit. Well do I
+recollect my master, Augustin Hirschvogel. He led a wise and blameless
+life, and wrought in loyalty and love, and made his time beautiful
+thereby, like one of his own rich, many-coloured church casements,
+that told holy tales as the sun streamed through them. Ah, yes, my
+friends, to go back to our masters!&mdash;that would be the best that could
+befall us. But they are gone, and even the perishable labours of their
+lives outlive them. For many, many years I, once honoured of emperors,
+dwelt in a humble house and warmed in successive winters three
+generations of little, cold, hungry children. When I warmed them they
+forgot that they were hungry; they laughed and told tales, and slept
+at last about my feet. Then I knew that humble as had become my lot it
+was one that my master would have wished for me, and I was content.
+Sometimes a tired woman would creep up to me, and smile because she
+was near me, and point out my golden crown or my ruddy fruit to a baby
+in her arms. That was better than to stand in a great hall of a great
+city, cold and empty, even though wise men came to gaze and throngs of
+fools gaped, passing with flattering words. Where I go now I know
+not; but since I go from that humble house where they loved me, I
+shall be sad and alone. They pass so soon&mdash;those fleeting mortal
+lives! Only we endure&mdash;we the things that the human brain creates. We
+can but bless them a little as they glide by: if we have done that, we
+have done what our masters wished. So in us our masters, being dead,
+yet may speak and live.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the voice sank away in silence, and a strange golden light that
+had shone on the great stove faded away; so also the light died down
+in the silver candelabra. A soft, pathetic melody stole gently through
+the room. It came from the old, old spinet that was covered with the
+faded roses.</p>
+
+<p>Then that sad, sighing music of a bygone day died too; the clocks of
+the city struck six of the morning; day was rising over the
+Bayerischenwald. August awoke with a great start, and found himself
+lying on the bare bricks of the floor of the chamber; and all the
+<i>bric-&agrave;-brac</i> was lying quite still all around. The pretty Lady of
+Meissen was motionless on her porcelain bracket, and the little Saxe
+poodle was quiet at her side.</p>
+
+<p>He rose slowly to his feet. He was very cold, but he was not sensible
+of it or of the hunger that was gnawing his little empty entrails. He
+was absorbed in the wondrous sight, in the wondrous sounds, that he
+had seen and heard.</p>
+
+<p>All was dark around him. Was it still midnight or had morning come?
+Morning, surely; for against the barred shutters he heard the tiny
+song of the robin.</p>
+
+<p>Tramp, tramp, too, came a heavy step up the stair. He had but a moment
+in which to scramble back into the interior of the great stove, when
+the door opened and the two dealers entered, bringing burning candles
+with them to see their way.</p>
+
+<p>August was scarcely conscious of danger more than he was of cold or
+hunger. A marvellous sense of courage, of security, of happiness, was
+about him, like strong and gentle arms enfolding him and lifting him
+upward&mdash;upward&mdash;upward! Hirschvogel would defend him.</p>
+
+<p>The dealers undid the shutters, scaring the red-breast away; and then
+tramped about in their heavy boots and chatted in contented voices,
+and began to wrap up the stove once more in all its straw and hay and
+cordage.</p>
+
+<p>It never once occurred to them to glance inside. Why should they look
+inside a stove that they had bought and were about to sell again for
+all its glorious beauty of exterior.</p>
+
+<p>The child still did not feel afraid. A great exaltation had come to
+him: he was like one lifted up by his angels.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the two traders called up their porters, and the stove,
+heedfully swathed and wrapped and tended as though it were some sick
+prince going on a journey, was borne on the shoulders of six stout
+Bavarians down the stairs and out of the door into the Marienplatz.
+Even behind all those wrappings August felt the icy bite of the
+intense cold of the outer air at dawn of a winter's day in Munich. The
+men moved the stove with exceeding gentleness and care, so that he had
+often been far more roughly shaken in his big brothers' arms than he
+was in his journey now; and though both hunger and thirst made
+themselves felt, being foes that will take no denial, he was still in
+that state of nervous exaltation which deadens all physical suffering
+and is at once a cordial and an opiate. He had heard Hirschvogel
+speak; that was enough.</p>
+
+<p>The stout carriers tramped through the city, six of them, with the
+N&uuml;rnberg fire-castle on their brawny shoulders, and went right across
+Munich to the railway-station, and August in the dark recognised all
+the ugly, jangling, pounding, roaring, hissing railway-noises, and
+thought, despite his courage and excitement, &quot;Will it be a <i>very</i> long
+journey?&quot; For his stomach had at times an odd sinking sensation, and
+his head often felt sadly light and swimming. If it was a very, very
+long journey he felt half afraid that he would be dead or something
+bad before the end, and Hirschvogel would be so lonely: that was what
+he thought most about; not much about himself, and not much about
+Dorothea and the house at home. He was &quot;high strung to high emprise,&quot;
+and could not look behind him.</p>
+
+<p>Whether for a long or a short journey, whether for weal or woe, the
+stove with August still within it was once more hoisted up into a
+great van; but this time it was not all alone, and the two dealers as
+well as the six porters were all with it.</p>
+
+<p>He in his darkness knew that; for he heard their voices. The train
+glided away over the Bavarian plain southward; and he heard the men
+say something of Berg and the Wurm-See, but their German was strange
+to him, and he could not make out what these names meant.</p>
+
+<p>The train rolled on, with all its fume and fuss, and roar of steam,
+and stench of oil and burning coal. It had to go quietly and slowly on
+account of the snow which was falling, and which had fallen all night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He might have waited till he came to the city,&quot; grumbled one man to
+another. &quot;What weather to stay on at Berg!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But who he was that stayed on at Berg, August could not make out at
+all.</p>
+
+<p>Though the men grumbled about the state of the roads and the season,
+they were hilarious and well content, for they laughed often, and,
+when they swore, did so good-humouredly, and promised their porters
+fine presents at New Year; and August, like a shrewd little boy as he
+was, who even in the secluded Innthal had learned that money is the
+chief mover of men's mirth, thought to himself, with a terrible pang:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have sold Hirschvogel for some great sum! They have sold him
+already!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then his heart grew faint and sick within him, for he knew very well
+that he must soon die, shut up without food and water thus; and what
+new owner of the great fireplace would ever permit him to dwell in it?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind; I <i>will</i> die,&quot; thought he; &quot;and Hirschvogel will know
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you think him a very foolish little fellow; but I do not.</p>
+
+<p>It is always good to be loyal and ready to endure to the end.</p>
+
+<p>It is but an hour and a quarter that the train usually takes to pass
+from Munich to the Wurm-See or Lake of Starnberg but this morning the
+journey was much slower, because the way was encumbered by snow. When
+it did reach Possenhofen and stop, and the N&uuml;rnberg stove was lifted
+out once more, August could see through the fretwork of the brass
+door, as the stove stood upright facing the lake, that this Wurm-See
+was a calm and noble piece of water, of great width, with low wooded
+banks and distant mountains, a peaceful, serene place, full of rest.</p>
+
+<p>It was now near ten o'clock. The sun had come forth; there was a clear
+gray sky hereabouts; the snow was not falling, though it lay white and
+smooth everywhere, down to the edge of the water, which before long
+would itself be ice.</p>
+
+<p>Before he had time to get more than a glimpse of the green gliding
+surface, the stove was again lifted up and placed on a large boat that
+was in waiting&mdash;one of those very long and huge boats which the women
+in these parts use as laundries, and the men as timber-rafts. The
+stove, with much labour and much expenditure of time and care, was
+hoisted into this, and August would have grown sick and giddy with the
+heaving and falling if his big brothers had not long used him to such
+tossing about, so that he was as much at ease head, as feet, downward.
+The stove, once in it safely with its guardians, the big boat moved
+across the lake to Leoni. How a little hamlet on a Bavarian lake got
+that Tuscan-sounding name I cannot tell; but Leoni it is. The big boat
+was a long time crossing; the lake here is about three miles broad,
+and these heavy barges are unwieldy and heavy to move, even though
+they are towed and tugged at from the shore.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we should be too late!&quot; the two dealers muttered to each other, in
+agitation and alarm. &quot;He said eleven o'clock.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who was he?&quot; thought August; &quot;the buyer, of course, of Hirschvogel.&quot;
+The slow passage across the Wurm-See was accomplished at length: the
+lake was placid; there was a sweet calm in the air and on the water;
+there was a great deal of snow in the sky, though the sun was shining
+and gave a solemn hush to the atmosphere. Boats and one little steamer
+were going up and down; in the clear frosty light the distant
+mountains of Zillerthal and the Algau Alps were visible;
+market-people, cloaked and furred, went by on the water or on the
+banks; the deep woods of the shores were black and gray and brown.
+Poor August could see nothing of a scene that would have delighted
+him; as the stove was now set, he could only see the old worm-eaten
+wood of the huge barge.</p>
+
+<p>Presently they touched the pier at Leoni.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, men, for a stout mile and half! You shall drink your reward at
+Christmas time,&quot; said one of the dealers to his porters, who, stout,
+strong men as they were, showed a disposition to grumble at their
+task. Encouraged by large promises, they shouldered sullenly the
+N&uuml;rnberg stove, grumbling again at its preposterous weight, but little
+dreaming that they carried within it a small, panting, trembling boy;
+for August began to tremble now that he was about to see the future
+owner of Hirschvogel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he looks a good, kind man,&quot; he thought, &quot;I will beg him to let me
+stay with it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The porters began their toilsome journey, and moved off from the
+village pier. He could see nothing, for the brass door was over his
+head, and all that gleamed through it was the clear gray sky. He had
+been tilted on to his back, and if he had not been a little
+mountaineer, used to hanging head-downward over crevasses, and,
+moreover, seasoned to rough treatment by the hunters and guides of the
+hills and the salt-workers in the town, he would have been made ill
+and sick by the bruising and shaking and many changes of position to
+which he had been subjected.</p>
+
+<p>The way the men took was a mile and a half in length, but the road was
+heavy with snow, and the burden they bore was heavier still. The
+dealers cheered them on, swore at them and praised them in one breath;
+besought them and reiterated their splendid promises, for a clock was
+striking eleven, and they had been ordered to reach their destination
+at that hour, and, though the air was so cold, the heat-drops rolled
+off their foreheads as they walked, they were so frightened at being
+late. But the porters would not budge a foot quicker than they chose,
+and as they were not poor four-footed carriers their employers dared
+not thrash them, though most willingly would they have done so.</p>
+
+<p>The road seemed terribly long to the anxious tradesmen, to the
+plodding porters, to the poor little man inside the stove, as he kept
+sinking and rising, sinking and rising, with each of their steps.</p>
+
+<p>Where they were going he had no idea, only after a very long time he
+lost the sense of the fresh icy wind blowing on his face through the
+brass-work above, and felt by their movements beneath him that they
+were mounting steps or stairs. Then he heard a great many different
+voices, but he could not understand what was being said. He felt that
+his bearers paused some time, then moved on and on again. Their feet
+went so softly he thought they must be moving on carpet, and as he
+felt a warm air come to him he concluded that he was in some heated
+chambers, for he was a clever little fellow, and could put two and two
+together, though he was so hungry and so thirsty and his empty stomach
+felt so strangely. They must have gone, he thought, through some very
+great number of rooms, for they walked so long on and on, on and on.
+At last the stove was set down again, and, happily for him, set so
+that his feet were downward.</p>
+
+<p>What he fancied was that he was in some museum, like that which he had
+seen in the city of Innspruck.</p>
+
+<p>The voices he heard were very hushed, and the steps seemed to go away,
+far away, leaving him alone with Hirschvogel. He dared not look out,
+but he peeped through the brass-work, and all he could see was a big
+carved lion's head in ivory, with a gold crown atop. It belonged to a
+velvet fauteuil, but he could not see the chair, only the ivory lion.</p>
+
+<p>There was a delicious fragrance in the air&mdash;a fragrance as flowers.
+&quot;Only how can it be flowers?&quot; thought August. &quot;It is November!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From afar off, as it seemed, there came a dreamy, exquisite music, as
+sweet as the spinet's had been, but so much fuller, so much richer,
+seeming as though a chorus of angels were singing all together. August
+ceased to think of the museum; he thought of heaven. &quot;Are we gone to
+the Master?&quot; he thought, remembering the words of Hirschvogel.</p>
+
+<p>All was so still around him; there was no sound anywhere except the
+sound of the far-off choral music.</p>
+
+<p>He did not know it, but he was in the royal castle of Berg, and the
+music he heard was the music of Wagner, who was playing in a distant
+room some of the motives of &quot;Parsival.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Presently he heard a fresh step near him, and he heard a low voice
+say, close behind him, &quot;So!&quot; An exclamation no doubt, he thought, of
+admiration and wonder at the beauty of Hirschvogel.</p>
+
+<p>Then the same voice said, after a long pause, during which no doubt,
+as August thought, this newcomer was examining all the details of the
+wondrous fire-tower, &quot;It was well bought; it is exceedingly beautiful!
+It is most undoubtedly the work of Augustin Hirschvogel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the hand of the speaker turned the round handle of the brass
+door, and the fainting soul of the poor little prisoner within grew
+sick with fear.</p>
+
+<p>The handle turned, the door was slowly drawn open, someone bent down
+and looked in, and the same voice that he had heard in praise of its
+beauty called aloud, in surprise, &quot;What is this in it? A live child!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then August, terrified beyond all self control, and dominated by one
+master-passion, sprang out of the body of the stove and fell at the
+feet of the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let me stay! Pray, meinherr, let me stay!&quot; he sobbed. &quot;I have
+come all the way with Hirschvogel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Some gentlemen's hands seized him, not gently by any means, and their
+lips angrily muttered in his ear, &quot;Little knave, peace! be quiet! hold
+your tongue! It is the king!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They were about to drag him out of the august atmosphere as if he had
+been some venomous, dangerous beast come there to slay, but the voice
+he had heard speak of the stove said, in kind accents, &quot;Poor little
+child! he is very young. Let him go: let him speak to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The word of a king is law to his courtiers: so, sorely against their
+wish, the angry and astonished chamberlains let August slide out of
+their grasp, and he stood there in his little rough sheepskin coat and
+his thick, mud-covered boots, with his curling hair all in a tangle,
+in the midst of the most beautiful chamber he had ever dreamed of, and
+in the presence of a young man with a beautiful dark face, and eyes
+full of dreams and fire; and the young man said to him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My child, how came you here, hidden in this stove? Be not afraid:
+tell me the truth. I am the king.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>August in an instinct of homage cast his great battered black hat with
+the tarnished gold tassels down on the floor of the room, and folded
+his little brown hands in supplication. He was too intensely in
+earnest to be in any way abashed; he was too lifted out of himself by
+his love for Hirschvogel to be conscious of any awe before any earthly
+majesty. He was only so glad&mdash;so glad it was the king. Kings were
+always kind; so the Tyrolese think, who love their lords.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, dear king!&quot; he said, with trembling entreaty in his faint little
+voice, &quot;Hirschvogel was ours, and we have loved it all our lives; and
+father sold it. And when I saw that it did really go from us, then I
+said to myself I would go with it; and I have come all the way inside
+it. And last night it spoke and said beautiful things. And I do pray
+you to let me live with it, and I will go out every morning and cut
+wood for it and you, if only you will let me stay beside it. No one
+ever has fed it with fuel but me since I grew big enough, and it loves
+me; it does indeed; it said so last night; and it said that it had
+been happier with us than if it were in any palace&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then his breath failed him, and, as he lifted his little eager,
+pale face to the young king's, great tears were falling down his
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the king liked all poetic and uncommon things, and there was that
+in the child's face which pleased and touched him. He motioned to his
+gentlemen to leave the little boy alone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is your name?&quot; he asked him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am August Strehla. My father is Hans Strehla. We live in Hall, in
+the Innthal; and Hirschvogel has been ours so long&mdash;so long!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His lips quivered with a broken sob.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And have you truly travelled inside this stove all the way from
+Tyrol?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said August; &quot;no one thought to look inside till you did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The king laughed; then another view of the matter occurred to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who bought the stove of your father?&quot; he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Traders of Munich,&quot; said August, who did not know that he ought not
+to have spoken to the king as to a simple citizen, and whose little
+brain was whirling and spinning dizzily round its one central idea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What sum did they pay your father, do you know?&quot; asked the sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two hundred florins,&quot; said August, with a great sigh of shame. &quot;It
+was so much money, and he is so poor, and there are so many of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The king turned to his gentlemen-in-waiting. &quot;Did these dealers of
+Munich come with the stove?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was answered in the affirmative. He desired them to be sought for
+and brought before him. As one of his chamberlains hastened on the
+errand, the monarch looked at August with compassion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are very pale, little fellow: when did you eat last?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had some bread and sausage with me; yesterday afternoon I finished
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would like to eat now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I might have a little water I would be glad; my throat is very
+dry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The king had water and wine brought for him, and cake also; but
+August, though he drank eagerly, could not swallow anything. His mind
+was in too great a tumult.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I stay with Hirschvogel?&mdash;may I stay?&quot; he said with feverish
+agitation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait a little,&quot; said the king, and asked, abruptly, &quot;What do you wish
+to be when you are a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A painter. I wish to be what Hirschvogel was&mdash;I mean the master that
+made <i>my</i> Hirschvogel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I understand,&quot; said the king.</p>
+
+<p>Then the two dealers were brought into their sovereign's presence.
+They were so terribly alarmed, not being either so innocent or so
+ignorant as August was that they were trembling as though they were
+being led to the slaughter, and they were so utterly astonished too at
+a child having come all the way from Tyrol in the stove, as a
+gentleman of the court had just told them this child had done, that
+they could not tell what to say or where to look, and presented a very
+foolish aspect indeed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you buy this N&uuml;rnberg stove of this little boy's father for two
+hundred florins?&quot; the king asked them; and his voice was no longer
+soft and kind as it had been when addressing the child, but very
+stern.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, your majesty,&quot; murmured the trembling traders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And how much did the gentleman who purchased it for me give to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two thousand ducats, your majesty,&quot; muttered the dealers, frightened
+out of their wits, and telling the truth in their fright.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman was not present: he was a trusted counselor in art
+matters of the king's, and often made purchases for him.</p>
+
+<p>The king smiled a little, and said nothing. The gentleman had made out
+the price to him as eleven thousand ducats.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will give at once to this boy's father the two thousand gold
+ducats that you received, less the two hundred Austrian florins that
+you paid him,&quot; said the king to his humiliated and abject subjects.
+&quot;You are great rogues. Be thankful you are not more greatly punished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dismissed them by a sign to his courtiers, and to one of these gave
+the mission of making the dealers of the Marienplatz disgorge their
+ill-gotten gains.</p>
+
+<p>August heard, and felt dazzled yet miserable. Two thousand gold
+Bavarian ducats for his father! Why, his father would never need to go
+any more to the salt-baking! And yet, whether for ducats or for
+florins, Hirschvogel was sold just the same, and would the king let
+him stay with it?&mdash;would he?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, do! oh, please do!&quot; he murmured, joining his little brown
+weather-stained hands, and kneeling down before the young monarch, who
+himself stood absorbed in painful thought, for the deception so basely
+practised for the greedy sake of gain on him by a trusted counsellor
+was bitter to him.</p>
+
+<p>He looked down on the child, and as he did so smiled once more.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rise up, my little man,&quot; he said, in a kind voice; &quot;kneel only to
+your God. Will I let you stay with your Hirschvogel? Yes, I will, you
+shall stay at my court, and you shall be taught to be a painter&mdash;in
+oils or on porcelain as you will&mdash;and you must grow up worthily, and
+win all the laurels at our Schools of Art, and if when you are
+twenty-one years old you have done well and bravely, then I will give
+you your N&uuml;rnberg stove, or, if I am no more living, then those who
+reign after me shall do so. And now go away with this gentleman, and
+be not afraid, and you shall light a fire every morning in
+Hirschvogel, but you will not need to go out and cut the wood.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he smiled and stretched out his hand; the courtiers tried to make
+August understand that he ought to bow and touch it with his lips, but
+August could not understand that anyhow; he was too happy. He threw
+his two arms about the king's knees, and kissed his feet passionately;
+then he lost all sense of where he was, and fainted away from hunger,
+and tire, and emotion, and wondrous joy.</p>
+
+<p>As the darkness of his swoon closed in on him, he heard in his fancy
+the voice from Hirschvogel saying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us be worthy our maker!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He is only a scholar yet, but he is a happy scholar, and promises to
+be a great man. Sometimes he goes back for a few days to Hall, where
+the gold ducats have made his father prosperous. In the old house-room
+there is a large white porcelain stove of Munich, the king's gift to
+Dorothea and 'Gilda.</p>
+
+<p>And August never goes home without going into the great church and
+saying his thanks to God, who blessed his strange winter's journey in
+the N&uuml;rnberg stove. As for his dream in the dealers' room that night,
+he will never admit that he did dream it; he still declares that he
+saw it all and heard the voice of Hirschvogel. And who shall say that
+he did not? for what is the gift of the poet and the artist except to
+see the sights which others cannot see and to hear the sounds that
+others cannot hear?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2>
+
+<h2>RAB AND HIS FRIENDS</h2>
+
+
+<p>Four-and-thirty years ago, Bob Ainslie and I were coming up Infirmary
+Street from the Edinburgh High School, our heads together, and our
+arms intertwisted, as only lovers and boys know how, or why.</p>
+
+<p>When we got to the top of the street, and turned north, we espied a
+crowd at the Tron Church. &quot;A dog-fight!&quot; shouted Bob, and was off; and
+so was I, both of us all but praying that it might not be over before
+we got up! And is not this boy-nature? and human nature too? and don't
+we all wish a house on fire not to be out before we see it? Dogs like
+fighting; old Isaac says they &quot;delight&quot; in it, and for the best of all
+reasons; and boys are not cruel because they like to see the fight.
+They see three of the great cardinal virtues of dog or man&mdash;courage,
+endurance, and skill&mdash;in intense action. This is very different from a
+love of making dogs fight, and enjoying, and aggravating, and making
+gain by their pluck. A boy&mdash;be he ever so fond himself of fighting, if
+he be a good boy, hates and despises all this, but he would run off
+with Bob and me fast enough: it is a natural, and not wicked interest,
+that all boys and men have in witnessing intense energy in action.</p>
+
+<p>Does any curious and finely-ignorant woman wish to know how Bob's eye
+at a glance announced a dog-fight to his brain? He did not, he could
+not see the dogs fighting; it was a flash of an inference, a rapid
+induction. The crowd round a couple of dogs fighting, is a crowd
+masculine mainly, with an occasional active, compassionate woman,
+fluttering wildly round the outside, and using her tongue and her
+hands freely upon the men, as so many &quot;brutes;&quot; it is a crowd annular,
+compact, and mobile; a crowd centripetal, having its eyes and its
+heads all bent downwards and inwards, to one common focus.</p>
+
+<p>Well, Bob and I are up, and find it is not over: a small thoroughbred,
+white bull-terrier, is busy throttling a large shepherd's dog,
+unaccustomed to war, but not to be trifled with. They are hard at it;
+the scientific little fellow doing his work in great style, his
+pastoral enemy fighting wildly, but with the sharpest of teeth and a
+great courage. Science and breeding, however, soon had their own; the
+Game Chicken, as the premature Bob called him, working his way up,
+took his final grip of poor Yarrow's throat&mdash;and he lay gasping and
+done for. His master, a brown, handsome, big young shepherd from
+Tweedsmuir, would have liked to have knocked down any man, would
+&quot;drink up Esil, or eat a crocodile,&quot; for that part, if he had a
+chance: it was no use kicking the little dog; that would only make him
+hold the closer. Many were the means shouted out in mouthfuls, of the
+best possible ways of ending it. &quot;Water!&quot; but there was none near, and
+many cried for it who might have got it from the well at Blackfriars
+Wynd. &quot;Bite the tail!&quot; and a large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+man, more desirous than wise, with some struggle got the bushy end of
+<i>Yarrow's</i> tail into his ample mouth, and bit it with all his might.
+This was more than enough for the much-enduring, much-perspiring
+shepherd, who, with a gleam of joy over his broad visage, delivered a
+terrific facer upon our large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+friend&mdash;who went down like a shot.</p>
+
+<p>Still the Chicken holds; death not far off. &quot;Snuff! a pinch of
+snuff!&quot; observed a calm, highly-dressed young buck, with an eye-glass
+in his eye. &quot;Snuff, indeed!&quot; growled the angry crowd, affronted and
+glaring. &quot;Snuff! a pinch of snuff!&quot; again observes the buck but with
+more urgency; whereon were produced several open boxes, and from a
+mull which may have been at Culloden, he took a pinch, knelt down, and
+presented it to the nose of the Chicken. The laws of physiology and of
+snuff take their course; the Chicken sneezes, and Yarrow is free!</p>
+
+<p>The young pastoral giant stalks off with Yarrow in his
+arms&mdash;comforting him.</p>
+
+<p>But the Bull Terrier's blood is up, and his soul unsatisfied; he grips
+the first dog he meets, and discovering she is not a dog, in Homeric
+phrase, he makes a brief sort of <i>amende</i>, and is off. The boys, with
+Bob and me at their head, are after him: down Niddry Street he goes,
+bent on mischief; up the Cowgate like an arrow&mdash;Bob and I, and our
+small men, panting behind.</p>
+
+<p>There, under the single arch of the South Bridge, is a huge mastiff,
+sauntering down the middle of the causeway, as if with his hands in
+his pockets: he is old, gray, brindled, as big as a little Highland
+bull, and has the Shakespearian dewlaps shaking as he goes.</p>
+
+<p>The Chicken makes straight at him, and fastens on his throat. To our
+astonishment, the great creature does nothing but stand still, hold
+himself up, and roar&mdash;yes, roar; a long, serious, remonstrative roar.
+How is this? Bob and I are up to them. <i>He is muzzled</i>! The bailies
+had proclaimed a general muzzling, and his master, studying strength
+and economy mainly, had encompassed his huge jaws in a home-made
+apparatus, constructed out of the leather of some ancient <i>breechin</i>.
+His mouth was open as far as it could; his lips curled up in rage&mdash;a
+sort of terrible grin; his teeth gleaming, ready, from out the
+darkness, the strap across his mouth tense as a bowstring; his whole
+frame stiff with indignation and surprise; his roar asking us all
+round, &quot;Did you ever see the like of this?&quot; He looked a statue of
+anger and astonishment, done in Aberdeen granite.</p>
+
+<p>We soon had a crowd: the Chicken held on. &quot;A knife!&quot; cried Bob; and a
+cobbler gave him his knife: you know the kind of knife, worn away
+obliquely to a point, and always keen. I put its edge to the tense
+leather; it ran before it; and then!&mdash;one sudden jerk of that enormous
+head, a sort of dirty mist about his mouth, no noise&mdash;and the bright
+and fierce little fellow is dropped, limp, and dead. A solemn pause:
+this was more than any of us had bargained for. I turned the little
+fellow over, and saw he was quite dead; the mastiff had taken him by
+the small of the back like a rat, and broken it.</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at his victim appeased, ashamed, and amazed; snuffed
+him all over, stared at him, and taking a sudden thought, turned round
+and trotted off. Bob took the dead dog up, and said, &quot;John, we'll bury
+him after tea.&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; said I, and was off after the mastiff. He made
+up the Cowgate at a rapid swing; he had forgotten some engagement. He
+turned up the Candlemaker Row, and stopped at the Harrow Inn.</p>
+
+<p>There was a carrier's cart ready to start, and a keen thin, impatient,
+black-a-vised little man, his hand at his gray horse's head, looking
+about angrily for something. &quot;Rab, ye thief!&quot; said he, aiming a kick
+at my great friend, who drew cringing up, and avoiding the heavy shoe
+with more agility than dignity, and watching his master's eye, slunk
+dismayed under the cart&mdash;his ears down, and as much as he had of tail
+down too.</p>
+
+<p>What a man this must be&mdash;thought I&mdash;to whom my tremendous hero turns
+tail. The carrier saw the muzzle hanging, cut and useless, from his
+neck, and I eagerly told him the story, which Bob and I always
+thought, and still think, Homer, or King David, or Sir Walter alone
+were worthy to rehearse. The severe little man was mitigated, and
+condescended to say, &quot;Rab, my man, puir Rabbie,&quot;&mdash;whereupon the stump
+of a tail rose up, the ears were cocked, the eyes filled, and were
+comforted; the two friends were reconciled. &quot;Hupp!&quot; and a stroke of
+the whip were given to Jess; and off went the three.</p>
+
+<p>Bob and I buried the Game Chicken that night (we had not much of a
+tea) in the back-green of his house in Melville Street, No. 17, with
+considerable gravity and silence; and being at the time in the Iliad,
+and, like all boys, Trojans, we called him Hector of course.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Six years have passed&mdash;a long time for a boy and a dog: Bob Ainslie is
+off to the wars; I am a medical student and clerk at Minto House
+Hospital.</p>
+
+<p>Rab I saw almost every week, on the Wednesday and we had much pleasant
+intimacy. I found the way to his heart by frequent scratching of his
+huge head, and an occasional bone. When I did not notice him he would
+plant himself straight before me, and stand wagging that butt of a
+tail, and looking up, with his head a little to one side. His master I
+occasionally saw; he used to call me &quot;Maister John,&quot; but was laconic
+as any Spartan.</p>
+
+<p>One fine October afternoon, I was leaving the hospital when I saw the
+large gate open, and in walked Rab, with that great and easy saunter
+of his. He looked as if taking general possession of the place; like
+the Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city, satiated with victory
+and peace. After him came Jess, now white from age, with her cart; and
+in it a woman, carefully wrapped up&mdash;the carrier leading the horse
+anxiously, and looking back. When he saw me, James (for his name was
+James Noble) made a curt and grotesque &quot;boo,&quot; and said, &quot;Maister John,
+this is the mistress; she's got a trouble in her breest&mdash;some kind o'
+an income we're thinkin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By this time I saw the woman's face; she was sitting on a sack filled
+with straw, her husband's plaid round her, and his big-coat with its
+large white metal buttons over her feet.</p>
+
+<p>I never saw a more unforgettable face&mdash;pale, serious, <i>lonely</i>,
+delicate, sweet, without being at all what we call fine. She looked
+sixty, and had on a mutch, white as snow, with its black ribbon; her
+silvery, smooth hair setting off her dark-gray eyes&mdash;eyes such as one
+sees only twice or thrice in a lifetime, full of suffering, full also
+of the overcoming of it: her eyebrows black and delicate, and her
+mouth firm, patient, and contented, which few mouths ever are.</p>
+
+<p>As I have said, I never saw a more beautiful countenance or one more
+subdued to settled quiet. &quot;Ailie,&quot; said James, &quot;this is Maister John,
+the young doctor; Rab's freend, ye ken. We often speak aboot you,
+doctor.&quot; She smiled, and made a movement, but said nothing; and
+prepared to come down, putting her plaid aside and rising. Had
+Solomon, in all his glory, been handing down the Queen of Sheba at his
+palace gate he could not have done it more daintily, more tenderly,
+more like a gentleman, than did James the Howgate carrier, when he
+lifted down Ailie his wife. The contrast of his small, swarthy,
+weather-beaten, keen, worldly face to hers&mdash;pale, subdued, and
+beautiful&mdash;was something wonderful. Rab looked on concerned and
+puzzled, but ready for anything that might turn up&mdash;were it to
+strangle the nurse, the porter, or even me. Ailie
+and he seemed great friends.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As I was sayin' she's got a kind o' trouble in her breest, doctor;
+wull ye tak' a look at it?&quot; We walked into the consulting-room, all
+four; Rab grim and comic, willing to be happy and confidential if
+cause could be shown, willing also to be the reverse, on the same
+terms. Ailie sat down, undid her open gown and her lawn handkerchief
+round her neck, and without a word, showed me her right breast. I
+looked at and examined it carefully&mdash;she and James watching me, and
+Rab eyeing all three. What could I say? there it was, that had once
+been so soft, so shapely, so white, so gracious and bountiful, so
+&quot;full of all blessed conditions,&quot;&mdash;hard as a stone, a centre of horrid
+pain, making that pale face with its gray, lucid, reasonable eyes, and
+its sweet resolved mouth, express the full measure of suffering
+overcome. Why was that gentle, modest, sweet woman, clean and lovable,
+condemned by God to bear such a burden?</p>
+
+<p>I got her away to bed. &quot;May Rab and me bide?&quot; said James. &quot;<i>You</i> may;
+and Rab, if he will behave himself.&quot; &quot;I'se warrant he's do that,
+doctor;&quot; and in slank the faithful beast. I wish you could have seen
+him. There are no such dogs now. He belonged to a lost tribe. As I
+have said, he was brindled and gray like Rubislaw granite; his hair
+short, hard, and close, like a lion's; his body thick set like a
+little bull&mdash;a sort of compressed Hercules of a dog. He must have
+been ninety pounds' weight, at the least; he had a large blunt head;
+his muzzle black as night, his mouth blacker than any night, a tooth
+or two&mdash;being all he had&mdash;gleaming out of his jaws of darkness. His
+head was scarred with the records of old wounds, a sort of series of
+fields of battle all over it; one eye out, one ear cropped as close as
+was Archbishop Leighton's father's; the remaining eye had the power of
+two; and above it, and in constant communication with it, was a
+tattered rag of an ear, which was forever unfurling itself, like an
+old flag; and then that bud of a tail, about one inch long, if it
+could in any sense be said to be long, being as broad as long&mdash;the
+mobility, the instantaneousness of that bud were very funny and
+surprising, and its expressive twinklings and winkings, the
+intercommunications between the eye, the ear, and it, were of the
+oddest and swiftest.</p>
+
+<p>Rab had the dignity and simplicity of great size; and having fought
+his way along the road to absolute supremacy, he was as mighty in his
+own line as Julius C&aelig;sar or the Duke of Wellington, and had the
+gravity of all great fighters.</p>
+
+<p>You must have often observed the likeness of certain men to certain
+animals, and of certain dogs to men. Now, I never looked at Rab
+without thinking of the great Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller. The
+same large, heavy, menacing, combative, sombre, honest countenance,
+the same deep inevitable eye, the same look&mdash;as of thunder asleep, but
+ready&mdash;neither a dog nor a man to be trifled with.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, my master, the surgeon, examined Ailie. There was no doubt
+it must kill her, and soon. It could be removed&mdash;it might never
+return&mdash;it would give her speedy relief&mdash;she should have it done. She
+curtsied, looked at James, and said, &quot;When?&quot; &quot;To-morrow,&quot; said the
+kind surgeon&mdash;a man of few words. She and James and Rab and I retired.
+I noticed that he and she spoke little, but seemed to anticipate
+everything in each other. The following day, at noon, the students
+came in, hurrying up the great stair. At the first landing-place, on a
+small well-known blackboard, was a bit of paper fastened by wafers,
+and many remains of old wafers beside it. On the paper were the
+words&mdash;&quot;An operation to-day. J.B. <i>Clerk</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Up ran the youths, eager to secure good places: in they crowded, full
+of interest and talk. &quot;What's the case?&quot; &quot;Which side is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Don't think them heartless; they are neither better nor worse than you
+or I; they get over their professional horrors, and into their proper
+work&mdash;and in them pity&mdash;as an <i>emotion</i>, ending in itself or at best
+in tears and a long-drawn breath, lessens, while pity as a <i>motive</i>,
+is quickened, and gains power and purpose. It is well for poor human
+nature that it is so.</p>
+
+<p>The operating theatre is crowded; much talk and fun, and all the
+cordiality and stir of youth. The surgeon with his staff of assistants
+is there. In comes Ailie: one look at her quiets and abates the eager
+students. That beautiful old woman is too much for them; they sit
+down, and are dumb, and gaze at her. These rough boys feel the power
+of her presence. She walks in quickly, but without haste; dressed in
+her mutch, her neckerchief, her white dimity short-gown, her black
+bombazine petticoat, showing her white worsted stockings and her
+carpet-shoes. Behind her was James with Rab. James sat down in the
+distance, and took that huge and noble head between his knees. Rab
+looked perplexed and dangerous; forever cocking his ear and dropping
+it as fast.</p>
+
+<p>Ailie stepped up on a seat, and laid herself on the table as her
+friend the surgeon told her; arranged herself, gave a rapid look at
+James, shut her eyes, rested herself on me, and took my hand. The
+operation was at once begun; it was necessarily slow; and
+chloroform&mdash;one of God's best gifts to his suffering children&mdash;was
+then unknown. The surgeon did his work. The pale face showed its pain,
+but was still and silent. Rab's soul was working within him; he saw
+that something strange was going on&mdash;blood flowing from his mistress,
+and she suffering; his ragged ear was up, and importunate; he growled
+and gave now and then a sharp impatient yelp; he would have liked to
+have done something to that man. But James had him firm, and gave him
+a <i>glower</i> from time to time, and an intimation of a possible
+kick;&mdash;all the better for James, it kept his eye and his mind off
+Ailie.</p>
+
+<p>It is over: she is dressed, steps gently and decently down from the
+table, looks for James; then, turning to the surgeon and the students,
+she curtsies&mdash;and in a low, clear voice, begs their pardon if she has
+behaved ill. The students&mdash;all of us&mdash;wept like children; the surgeon
+happed her up carefully&mdash;and, resting on James and me, Ailie went to
+her room, Rab following. We put her to bed. James took off his heavy
+shoes, crammed with tackets, heel-capt and toe-capt, and put them
+carefully under the table, saying, &quot;Maister John, I'm for nane o'yer
+strynge nurse bodies for Ailie. I'll be her nurse, and I'll gang aboot
+on my stockin' soles as canny as pussy.&quot; And so he did; and handy and
+clever, and swift and tender as any woman, was that horny-handed,
+snell, peremptory little man. Everything she got he gave her: he
+seldom slept; and often I saw his small shrewd eyes out of the
+darkness, fixed on her. As before, they spoke little.</p>
+
+<p>Rab behaved well, never moving, showing us how meek and gentle he
+could be, and occasionally, in his sleep, letting us know that he was
+demolishing some adversary. He took a walk with me every day,
+generally to the Candlemaker Row; but he was sombre and mild; declined
+doing battle, though some fit cases offered, and indeed submitted to
+sundry indignities; and was always very ready to turn, and came faster
+back, and trotted up the stair with much lightness, and went straight
+to that door.</p>
+
+<p>Jess, the mare, had been sent, with her weather-worn cart, to Howgate,
+and had doubtless her own dim and placid meditations and confusions,
+on the absence of her master and Rab, and her unnatural freedom from
+the road and her cart.</p>
+
+<p>For some days Ailie did well. The wound healed &quot;by the first
+intention;&quot; for as James said, &quot;Oor Ailie's skin's ower clean to
+beil.&quot; The students came in quiet and anxious, and surrounded her bed.
+She said she liked to see their young, honest faces. The surgeon
+dressed her, and spoke to her in his own short kind way, pitying her
+through his eyes, Rab and James outside the circle&mdash;Rab being now
+reconciled, and even cordial, and having made up his mind that as yet
+nobody required worrying, but, as you may suppose, <i>semper paratus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>So far well: but, four days after the operation, my patient had a
+sudden and long shivering, a &quot;groosin',&quot; as she called it. I saw her
+soon after; her eyes were too bright, her cheek coloured; she was
+restless, and ashamed of being so; the balance was lost; mischief had
+begun. On looking at the wound, a blush of red told the secret: her
+pulse was rapid, her breathing anxious and quick, she wasn't herself,
+as she said, and was vexed at her restlessness. We tried what we
+could; James did everything, was everywhere; never in the way, never
+out of it; Rab subsided under the table into a dark place, and was
+motionless, all but his eye, which followed every one. Ailie got
+worse; began to wander in her mind, gently; was more demonstrative in
+her ways to James, rapid in her questions, and sharp at times. He was
+vexed, and said, &quot;She was never that way afore; no, never.&quot; For a time
+she knew her head was wrong, and was always asking our pardon&mdash;the
+dear, gentle old woman: then delirium set in strong, without pause.
+Her brain gave way, and then came that terrible spectacle&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>&quot;The intellectual power, through words and things,<br /></span>
+<span>&nbsp;Went sounding on its dim and perilous way.&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>she sang bits of old songs and Psalms, stopping suddenly, mingling the
+Psalms of David and the diviner words of his Son and Lord, with homely
+odds and ends and scraps of ballads.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing more touching, or in a sense more strangely beautiful, did I
+ever witness. Her tremulous, rapid, affectionate, eager, Scotch
+voice&mdash;the swift, aimless, bewildered mind, the baffled utterance, the
+bright and perilous eye; some wild words, some household cares,
+something for James, the names of the dead, Rab called rapidly and in
+a &quot;fremyt&quot; voice, and he starting up surprised, and slinking off as if
+he were to blame somehow, or had been dreaming he heard; many eager
+questions and beseechings which James and I could make nothing of, and
+on which she seemed to set her all, and then sink back ununderstood.
+It was very sad, but better than many things that are not called sad.
+James hovered about, put out and miserable, but active and exact as
+ever; read to her when there was a lull, short bits from the Psalms,
+prose and metre, chanting the latter in his own rude and serious way,
+showing great knowledge of the fit words, bearing up like a man, and
+doating over her as his &quot;ain Ailie.&quot; &quot;Ailie, ma woman!&quot; &quot;Ma ain bonnie
+wee dawtie!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The end was drawing on: the golden bowl was breaking; the silver cord
+was fast being loosed&mdash;that <i>animula blandula, vagula, hospes,
+comesque</i>, was about to flee. The body and the soul&mdash;companions for
+sixty years&mdash;were being sundered, and taking leave. She was walking
+alone, through the valley of that shadow, into which one day we must
+all enter&mdash;and yet she was not alone, for we know whose rod and staff
+were comforting her.</p>
+
+<p>One night she had fallen quiet, and as we hoped, asleep; her eyes were
+shut. We put down the gas and sat watching her. Suddenly she sat up in
+bed, and taking a bed-gown which was lying on it rolled up, she held
+it eagerly to her breast&mdash;to the right side. We could see her eyes
+bright with a surprising tenderness and joy, bending over this bundle
+of clothes. She held it as a woman holds her sucking child; opening
+out her night-gown impatiently, and holding it close, and brooding
+over it, and murmuring foolish little words, as over one whom his
+mother comforteth, and who sucks and is satisfied. It was pitiful and
+strange to see her wasted dying look, keen and yet vague&mdash;her immense
+love.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Preserve me!&quot; groaned James, giving way. And then she rocked back and
+forward, as if to make it sleep, hushing it, and wasting on it her
+infinite fondness. &quot;Wae's me, doctor; I declare she's thinkin' it's
+that bairn.&quot; &quot;What bairn?&quot; &quot;The only bairn we ever had; our wee Mysie,
+and she's in the Kingdom, forty years and mair.&quot; It was plainly true:
+the pain in the breast, telling its urgent story to a bewildered,
+ruined brain, was misread and mistaken; it suggested to her the
+uneasiness of a breast full of milk and then the child; and so again
+once more they were together and she had her ain wee Mysie in her
+bosom.</p>
+
+<p>This was the close. She sank rapidly: the delirium left her; but as,
+she whispered, she was &quot;clean silly;&quot; it was the lightening before the
+final darkness. After having for some time lain still&mdash;her eyes shut,
+she said &quot;James!&quot; He came close to her, and lifting up her calm,
+clear, beautiful eyes, she gave him a long look, turned to me kindly
+but shortly, looked for Rab but could not see him, then turned to her
+husband again, as if she would never leave off looking, shut her eyes,
+and composed herself. She lay for some time breathing quick, and
+passed away so gently, that when we thought she was gone, James, in
+his old-fashioned way, held the mirror to her face. After a long
+pause, one small spot of dimness was breathed out; it vanished away,
+and never returned, leaving the blank clear darkness of the mirror
+without a stain. &quot;What is our life? it is even a vapour, which
+appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Rab all this time had been full awake and motionless; he came forward
+beside us: Ailie's hand, which James had held, was hanging down, it
+was soaked with his tears; Rab licked it all over carefully, looked at
+her, and returned to his place under the table.</p>
+
+<p>James and I sat, I don't know how long, but for some time&mdash;saying
+nothing: he started up abruptly, and with some noise went to the
+table, and putting his right fore and middle fingers each into a shoe,
+pulled them out, and put them on, breaking one of the leather
+latchets, and muttering in anger, &quot;I never did the like o' that
+afore!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I believe he never did; nor after either. &quot;Rab!&quot; he said roughly, and
+pointing with his thumb to the bottom of the bed. Rab leapt up and
+settled himself; his head and eye to the dead face. &quot;Maister John,
+ye'll wait for me,&quot; said the carrier; and disappeared in the darkness,
+thundering downstairs in his heavy shoes. I ran to a front window;
+there he was, already round the house, and out at the gate, fleeing
+like a shadow.</p>
+
+<p>I was afraid about him, and yet not afraid; so I sat down beside Rab,
+and being wearied, fell asleep. I awoke from a sudden noise outside.
+It was November, and there had been a heavy fall of snow. Rab was <i>in
+statu quo</i>; he heard the noise too, and plainly knew it, but never
+moved. I looked out; and there, at the gate, in the dim morning&mdash;for
+the sun was not up&mdash;was Jess and the cart&mdash;a cloud of steam rising
+from the old mare. I did not see James; he was already at the door,
+and came up the stairs and met me. It was less than three hours since
+he left, and he must have posted out&mdash;who knows how?&mdash;to Howgate, full
+nine miles off; yoked Jess, and driven her astonished into town. He
+had an armful of blankets and was streaming with perspiration. He
+nodded to me, spread out on the floor two pairs of clean old blankets
+having at their corners, &quot;A.G., 1794,&quot; in large letters in red
+worsted. These were the initials of Alison Gr&aelig;me, and James may have
+looked in at her from without&mdash;himself unseen but not unthought
+of&mdash;when he was &quot;wat, wat, and weary,&quot; and after having walked many a
+mile over the hills, may have seen her sitting, while &quot;a' the lave
+were sleepin';&quot; and by the firelight working her name on the blankets
+for her ain James's bed.</p>
+
+<p>He motioned Rab down, and taking his wife in his arms, laid her in the
+blankets, and happed her carefully and firmly up, leaving the face
+uncovered; and then lifting her, he nodded again sharply to me, and
+with a resolved but utterly miserable face, strode along the passage,
+and downstairs, followed by Rab. I followed with a light; but he
+didn't need it. I went out, holding stupidly the candle in my hand in
+the calm frosty air; we were soon at the gate. I could have helped
+him, but I saw he was not to be meddled with, and he was strong, and
+did not need it. He laid her down as tenderly, as safely, as he had
+lifted her out ten days before&mdash;as tenderly as when he had her first
+in his arms when she was only &quot;A.G.&quot;&mdash;sorted her, leaving that
+beautiful sealed face open to the heavens; and then taking Jess by the
+head, he moved away. He did not notice me, neither did Rab, who
+presided behind the cart.</p>
+
+<p>I stood till they passed through the long shadow of the College, and
+turned up Nicholson Street. I heard the solitary cart sound through
+the streets, and die away and come again; and I returned, thinking of
+that company going up Libberton Brae, then along Roslin Muir, the
+morning light touching the Pentlands and making them like on-looking
+ghosts; then down the hill through Auchindinny woods, past &quot;haunted
+Woodhouselee&quot;; and as daybreak came sweeping up the bleak Lammermuirs,
+and fell on his own door, the company would stop, and James would take
+the key, and lift Ailie up again, laying her on her own bed, and,
+having put Jess up, would return with Rab and shut the door.</p>
+
+<p>James buried his wife, with his neighbours mourning, Rab inspecting
+the solemnity from a distance. It was snow, and that black ragged hole
+would look strange in the midst of the swelling spotless cushion of
+white. James looked after everything; then rather suddenly fell ill,
+and took to bed; was insensible when the doctor came, and soon died. A
+sort of low fever was prevailing in the village, and his want of
+sleep, his exhaustion, and his misery, made him apt to take it. The
+grave was not difficult to reopen. A fresh fall of snow had again made
+all things white and smooth; Rab once more looked on, and slunk home
+to the stable.</p>
+
+<p>And what of Rab? I asked for him next week of the new carrier who got
+the goodwill of James's business, and was now master of Jess and her
+cart. &quot;How's Rab?&quot; He put me off, and said rather rudely, &quot;What's
+<i>your</i> business wi' the dowg?&quot; I was not to be so put off. &quot;Where's
+Rab?&quot; He, getting confused and red, and intermeddling with his hair,
+said, &quot;'Deed, sir, Rab's deid.&quot; &quot;Dead! what did he die of?&quot; &quot;Weel,
+sir,&quot; said he, getting redder, &quot;he didna exactly dee; he was killed. I
+had to brain him wi' a rack-pin; there was nae doin' wi' him. He lay
+in the treviss wi' the mear, and wadna come oot. I tempit him wi' kail
+and meat, but he wad tak naething, and keepit me frae feedin' the
+beast, and he was aye gur gurrin', and grup gruppin' me by the legs. I
+was laith to make awa wi' the auld dowg, his like wasna atween this
+and Thornhill&mdash;but, 'deed, sir, I could do naething else.&quot; I believed
+him. Fit end for Rab, quick and complete. His teeth and his friends
+gone, why should he keep the peace, and be civil?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2>
+
+<h2>PETER RUGG, THE MISSING MAN<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2"><small><sup>[2]</sup></small></a></h2>
+
+
+<p>Sir&mdash;Agreeably to my promise, I now relate to you all the particulars
+of the lost man and child which I have been able to collect. It is
+entirely owing to the humane interest you seemed to take in the
+report, that I have pursued the inquiry to the following result.</p>
+
+<p>You may remember that business called me to Boston in the summer of
+1820. I sailed in the packet to Providence, and when I arrived there I
+learned that every seat in the stage was engaged. I was thus obliged
+either to wait a few hours or accept a seat with the driver, who
+civilly offered me that accommodation. Accordingly I took my seat by
+his side, and soon found him intelligent and communicative.</p>
+
+<p>When we had travelled about ten miles, the horses suddenly threw their
+ears on their necks, as flat as a hare's. Said the driver, &quot;Have you a
+surtout with you?&quot; &quot;No,&quot; said I; &quot;why do you ask?&quot; &quot;You will want one
+soon,&quot; said he; &quot;do you observe the ears of all the horses?&quot; &quot;Yes, and
+was just about to ask the reason.&quot; &quot;They see the storm-breeder, and we
+shall see him soon.&quot; At this moment there was not a cloud visible in
+the firmament. Soon after a small speck appeared in the road. &quot;There,&quot;
+said my companion, &quot;comes the storm-breeder; he always leaves a Scotch
+mist behind him. By many a wet jacket do I remember him. I suppose the
+poor fellow suffers much himself, much more than is known to the
+world.&quot; Presently a man with a child beside him, with a large black
+horse, and a weather-beaten chair, once built for a chaise body,
+passed in great haste, apparently at the rate of twelve miles an hour.
+He seemed to grasp the reins of his horse with firmness, and appeared
+to anticipate his speed. He seemed dejected, and looked anxiously at
+the passengers, particularly at the stage-driver and myself. In a
+moment after he passed us, the horses' ears were up and bent
+themselves forward so that they nearly met. &quot;Who is that man?&quot; said I;
+&quot;he seems in great trouble.&quot; &quot;Nobody knows who is he, but his person
+and the child are familiar to me. I have met them more than a hundred
+times, and have been so often asked the way to Boston by that man,
+even when he was travelling directly from that town, that of late I
+have refused any communication with him, and that is the reason he
+gave me such a fixed look.&quot; &quot;But does he never stop anywhere?&quot; &quot;I have
+never known him to stop anywhere longer than to inquire the way to
+Boston; and, let him be where he may, he will tell you he cannot stay
+a moment, for he must reach Boston that night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We were now ascending a high hill in Walpole, and as we had a fair
+view of the heavens, I was rather disposed to jeer the driver for
+thinking of his surtout, as not a cloud as big as a marble could be
+discerned. &quot;Do you look,&quot; said he, &quot;in the direction whence the man
+came, that is the place to look; the storm never meets him, it follows
+him.&quot; We presently approached another hill, and when at the height,
+the driver pointed out in an eastern direction a little black speck as
+big as a hat. &quot;There,&quot; said he, &quot;is the seed storm; we may possibly
+reach Polley's before it reaches us, but the wanderer and his child
+will go to Providence through rain, thunder, and lightning.&quot; And now
+the horses, as though taught by instinct, hastened with increased
+speed. The little black cloud came on rolling over the turnpike, and
+doubled and trebled itself in all directions. The appearance of this
+cloud attracted the notice of all the passengers; for after it had
+spread itself to a great bulk, it suddenly became more limited in
+circumference, grew more compact, dark, and consolidated. And now the
+successive flashes of chain lightning caused the whole cloud to appear
+like a sort of irregular network, and displayed a thousand fantastic
+images. The driver bespoke my attention to a remarkable configuration
+in the cloud; he said every flash of lightning near its centre
+discovered to him distinctly the form of a man sitting in an open
+carriage drawn by a black horse. But in truth I saw no such thing. The
+man's fancy was doubtless at fault. It is a very common thing for the
+imagination to paint for the senses, both in the visible and invisible
+world.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime the distant thunder gave notice of a shower at hand,
+and just as we reached Polley's tavern the rain poured down in
+torrents. It was soon over, the cloud passing in the direction of the
+turnpike toward Providence. In a few moments after, a
+respectable-looking man in a chaise stopped at the door. The man and
+child in the chair having excited some little sympathy among the
+passengers, the gentleman was asked if he had observed them. He said
+he had met them; that the man seemed bewildered, and inquired the way
+to Boston; that he was driving at great speed, as though he expected
+to outstrip the tempest; that the moment he had passed him a
+thunderclap broke distinctly over the man's head and seemed to envelop
+both man and child, horse and carriage. &quot;I stopped,&quot; said the
+gentleman, &quot;supposing the lightning had struck him, but the horse only
+seemed to loom up and increase his speed, and, as well as I could
+judge, he travelled just as fast as the thunder cloud.&quot; While this
+man was speaking, a peddler with a cart of tin merchandise came up,
+all dripping; and, on being questioned, he said he had met that man
+and carriage, within a fortnight, in four different States; that at
+each time he had inquired the way to Boston; and that a thunder shower
+like the present had each time deluged him, his wagon and his wares,
+setting his tin pots, etc., afloat, so that he had determined to get
+marine insurance done for the future. But that which excited his
+surprise most was the strange conduct of his horse, for that, long
+before he could distinguish the man in the chair, his own horse stood
+still in the road and flung back his ears. &quot;In short,&quot; said the
+peddler, &quot;I wish never to see that man and horse again; they do not
+look to me as if they belonged to this world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This is all that I could learn at that time; and the occurrence soon
+after would have become with me like one of those things which had
+never happened, had I not, as I stood recently on the doorstep of
+Bennett's Hotel in Hartford, heard a man say, &quot;There goes Peter Rugg
+and his child! he looks wet and weary, and farther from Boston than
+ever.&quot; I was satisfied it was the same man that I had seen more than
+three years before; for whoever has once seen Peter Rugg can never
+after be deceived as to his identity. &quot;Peter Rugg!&quot; said I, &quot;and who
+is Peter Rugg?&quot; &quot;That,&quot; said the stranger, &quot;is more than anyone can
+tell exactly. He is a famous traveller, held in light esteem by all
+inn-holders, for he never stops to eat, drink, or sleep. I wonder why
+the Government does not employ him to carry the mail.&quot; &quot;Ay,&quot; said a
+bystander, &quot;that is a thought bright only on one side. How long would
+it take, in that case, to send a letter to Boston? For Peter has
+already, to my knowledge, been more than twenty years travelling to
+that place.&quot; &quot;But,&quot; said I, &quot;does the man never stop anywhere, does
+he never converse with anyone? I saw the same man more than three
+years since, near Providence, and I heard a strange story about him.
+Pray, sir, give me some account of this man.&quot; &quot;Sir,&quot; said the
+stranger, &quot;those who know the most respecting that man say the least.
+I have heard it asserted that heaven sometimes sets a mark on a man,
+either for judgment or trial. Under which Peter Rugg now labours I
+cannot say; therefore I am rather inclined to pity than to judge.&quot;
+&quot;You speak like a humane man,&quot; said I, &quot;and if you have known him so
+long, I pray you will give me some account of him. Has his appearance
+much altered in that time?&quot; &quot;Why, yes; he looks as though he never
+ate, drank, or slept; and his child looks older than himself; and he
+looks like time broke off from eternity and anxious to gain a
+resting-place.&quot; &quot;And how does his horse look?&quot; said I. &quot;As for his
+horse, he looks fatter and gayer, and shows more animation and
+courage, than he did twenty years ago. The last time Rugg spoke to me
+he inquired how far it was to Boston. I told him just one hundred
+miles. 'Why,' said he, 'how can you deceive me so? It is cruel to
+deceive a traveller. I have lost my way. Pray direct me the nearest
+way to Boston.' I repeated it was one hundred miles. 'How can you say
+so?' said he. 'I was told last evening it was but fifty, and I have
+travelled all night.' 'But,' said I, 'you are now travelling from
+Boston. You must turn back.' 'Alas!' said he, 'it is all turn back!
+Boston shifts with the wind, and plays all around the compass. One man
+tells me it is to the east, another to the west; and the guide-posts,
+too, they all point the wrong way.' 'But will you not stop and rest?'
+said I; 'you seem wet and weary.' 'Yes,' said he, 'it has been foul
+weather since I left home.' 'Stop, then, and refresh yourself.' 'I
+must not stop, I must reach home to-night, if possible, though I
+think you must be mistaken in the distance to Boston.' He then gave
+the reins to his horse, which he restrained with difficulty, and
+disappeared in a moment. A few days afterwards I met the man a little
+this side of Claremont, winding around the hills in Unity, at the
+rate, I believe, of twenty miles an hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is Peter Rugg his real name, or has he accidentally gained that
+name?&quot; &quot;I know not, but presume he will not deny his name; you can ask
+him, for see, he has turned his horse and is passing this way.&quot; In a
+moment a dark-coloured, high-spirited horse approached, and would have
+passed without stopping, but I had resolved to speak to Peter Rugg, or
+whoever the man might be. Accordingly. I stepped into the street, and
+as the horse approached I made a feint of stopping him. The man
+immediately reined in his horse. &quot;Sir,&quot; said I, &quot;may I be so bold as
+to inquire if you are not Mr. Rugg? for I think I have seen you
+before.&quot; &quot;My name is Peter Rugg,&quot; said he; &quot;I have unfortunately lost
+my way; I am wet and weary, and will take it kindly of you to direct
+me to Boston.&quot; &quot;You live in Boston, do you, and in what street?&quot; &quot;In
+Middle Street.&quot; &quot;When did you leave Boston?&quot; &quot;I cannot tell precisely;
+it seems a considerable time.&quot; &quot;But how did you and your child become
+so wet? it has not rained here to-day.&quot; &quot;It has just rained a heavy
+shower up the river. But I shall not reach Boston to-night if I tarry.
+Would you advise me to take the old road, or the turnpike?&quot; &quot;Why, the
+old road is one hundred and seventeen miles, and the turnpike is
+ninety-seven.&quot; &quot;How can you say so? you impose on me; it is wrong to
+trifle with a traveller; you know it is but forty miles from
+Newburyport to Boston.&quot; &quot;But this is not Newburyport; this is
+Hartford.&quot; &quot;Do not deceive me, sir. Is not this town Newburyport, and
+the river that I have been following the Merrimac?&quot; &quot;No, sir; this is
+Hartford, and the river the Connecticut.&quot; He wrung his hands and
+looked incredulous. &quot;Have the rivers, too, changed their courses as
+the cities have changed places? But see, the clouds are gathering in
+the south, and we shall have a rainy night. Ah, that fatal oath!&quot; He
+would tarry no longer. His impatient horse leaped off, his hind flanks
+rising like wings&mdash;he seemed to devour all before him and to scorn all
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>I had now, as I thought, discovered a clue to the history of Peter
+Rugg, and I determined, the next time my business called me to Boston,
+to make a further inquiry. Soon after I was enabled to collect the
+following particulars from Mrs. Croft, an aged lady in Middle Street,
+who has resided in Boston during the last twenty years. Her narration
+is this: The last summer a person, just at twilight, stopped at the
+door of the late Mrs. Rugg. Mrs. Croft, on coming to the door,
+perceived a stranger, with a child by his side, in an old,
+weather-beaten carriage, with a black horse. The stranger asked for
+Mrs. Rugg, and was informed that Mrs. Rugg had died, at a good old
+age, more than twenty years before that time. The stranger replied,
+&quot;How can you deceive me so? do ask Mrs. Rugg to step to the door.&quot;
+&quot;Sir, I assure you Mrs. Rugg has not lived here these nineteen years;
+no one lives here but myself, and my name is Betsey Croft.&quot; The
+stranger paused, and looked up and down the street and said, &quot;Though
+the painting is rather faded, this looks like my house.&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; said
+the child, &quot;that is the stone before the door that I used to sit on to
+eat my bread and milk.&quot; &quot;But,&quot; said the stranger, &quot;it seems to be on
+the wrong side of the street. Indeed, everything here seems to be
+misplaced. The streets are all changed, the people are all changed,
+the town seems changed, and, what is strangest of all, Catharine Rugg
+has deserted her husband and child.&quot; &quot;Pray,&quot; said the stranger, &quot;has
+John Foy come home from sea? He went a long voyage; he is my kinsman.
+If I could see him, he could give me some account of Mrs. Rugg.&quot;
+&quot;Sir,&quot; said Mrs. Croft, &quot;I never heard of John Foy. Where did he
+live?&quot; &quot;Just above here, in Orange-Tree Lane.&quot; &quot;There is no such place
+in this neighbourhood.&quot; &quot;What do you tell me! Are the streets gone?
+Orange-Tree Lane is at the head of Hanover Street, near Pemberton's
+Hill.&quot; &quot;There is no such lane now.&quot; &quot;Madam! you cannot be serious. But
+you doubtless know my brother, William Rugg. He lives in Royal
+Exchange Lane, near King Street.&quot; &quot;I know of no such lane; and I I am
+sure there is no such street as King Street in this town.&quot; &quot;No such
+street as King Street? Why, woman! you mock me. You may as well tell
+me there is no King George. However, madam, you see I am wet and
+weary. I must find a resting place. I will go to Hart's tavern, near
+the market.&quot; &quot;Which market, sir? for you seem perplexed; we have
+several markets.&quot; &quot;You know there is but one market, near the town
+dock.&quot; &quot;Oh, the old market. But no such man as Hart has kept there
+these twenty years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the stranger seemed disconcerted, and muttered to himself quite
+audibly: &quot;Strange mistake! How much this looks like the town of
+Boston! It certainly has a great resemblance to it; but I perceive my
+mistake now. Some other Mrs. Rugg, some other Middle Street.&quot; Then
+said he, &quot;Madam, can you direct me to Boston?&quot; &quot;Why, this is Boston,
+the city of Boston. I know of no other Boston.&quot; &quot;City of Boston it may
+be, but it is not the Boston where I live. I recollect now, I came
+over a bridge instead of a ferry. Pray what bridge is that I just came
+over?&quot; &quot;It is Charles River Bridge.&quot; &quot;I perceive my mistake; there is
+a ferry between Boston and Charlestown, there is no bridge. Ah, I
+perceive my mistake. If I was in Boston, my horse would carry me
+directly to my own door. But my horse shows by his impatience that he
+is in a strange place. Absurd, that I should have mistaken this place
+for the old town of Boston! It is a much finer city than the town of
+Boston. It has been built long since Boston. I fancy Boston must lie
+at a distance from this city, as the good woman seems ignorant of it.&quot;
+At these words his horse began to chafe, and strike the pavement with
+his fore feet; the stranger seemed a little bewildered, and said &quot;No
+home to-night,&quot; and, giving the reins to his horse, passed up the
+street, and I saw no more of him.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that the generation to which Peter Rugg belonged had
+passed away.</p>
+
+<p>This was all the account of Peter Rugg I could obtain from Mrs. Croft;
+but she directed me to an elderly man, Mr. James Felt, who lived near
+her, and who had kept a record of the principal occurrences for the
+last fifty years. At my request she sent for him; and, after I had
+related to him the object of my inquiry, Mr. Felt told me he had known
+Rugg in his youth; that his disappearance had caused some surprise;
+but as it sometimes happens that men run away, sometimes to be rid of
+others, and sometimes to be rid of themselves; and as Rugg took his
+child with him, and his own horse and chair; and as it did not appear
+that any creditors made a stir, the occurrence soon mingled itself in
+the stream of oblivion; and Rugg and his child, horse and chair, were
+soon forgotten. &quot;It is true,&quot; said Mr. Felt, &quot;sundry stories grew out
+of Rugg's affair, whether true or false I cannot tell; but stranger
+things have happened in my day, without even a newspaper notice.&quot;
+&quot;Sir,&quot; said I, &quot;Peter Rugg is now living. I have lately seen Peter
+Rugg and his child, horse and chair; therefore I pray you to relate to
+me all you know or ever heard of him.&quot; &quot;Why, my friend,&quot; said James
+Felt, &quot;that Peter Rugg is now a living man I will not deny; but that
+you have seen Peter Rugg and his child is impossible, if you mean a
+small child, for Jenny Rugg, if living, must be at least&mdash;let me
+see&mdash;Boston Massacre, 1770&mdash;Jenny Rugg was about ten years old. Why,
+sir, Jenny Rugg if living must be more than sixty years of age. That
+Peter Rugg is living is highly probable, as he was only ten years
+older than myself; and I was only eighty last March, and I am as
+likely to live twenty years longer as any man.&quot; Here I perceived that
+Mr. Felt was in his dotage, and I despaired of gaining any
+intelligence from him on which I could depend.</p>
+
+<p>I took my leave of Mrs. Croft, and proceeded to my lodgings at the
+Marlborough Hotel.</p>
+
+<p>If Peter Rugg, thought I, has been travelling since the Boston
+Massacre, there is no reason why he should not travel to the end of
+time. If the present generation know little of him, the next will know
+less, and Peter and his child will have no hold on this world.</p>
+
+<p>In the course of the evening I related my adventure in Middle Street.
+&quot;Ha!&quot; said one of the company, smiling, &quot;do you really think you have
+seen Peter Rugg? I have heard my grandfather speak of him as though he
+seriously believed his own story.&quot; &quot;Sir,&quot; said I, &quot;pray let us compare
+your grandfather's story of Mr. Rugg with my own.&quot; &quot;Peter Rugg, sir,
+if my grandfather was worthy of credit, once lived in Middle Street,
+in this city. He was a man in comfortable circumstances, had a wife
+and one daughter, and was generally esteemed for his sober life and
+manners. But unhappily his temper at times was altogether
+ungovernable, and then his language was terrible. In these fits of
+passion, if a door stood in his way he would never do less than kick a
+panel through. He would sometimes throw his heels over his head, and
+come down on his feet, uttering oaths in a circle. And thus, in a
+rage, he was the first who performed a somerset, and did what others
+have since learned to do for merriment and money. Once Rugg was seen
+to bite a tenpenny nail in halves. In those days everybody, both men
+and boys, wore wigs; and Peter, at these moments of violent passion,
+would become so profane that his wig would rise up from his head. Some
+said it was on account of his terrible language; others accounted for
+it in a more philosophical way, and said it was caused by the
+expansion of his scalp, as violent passion, we know, will swell the
+veins and expand the head. While these fits were on him, Rugg had no
+respect for heaven or earth. Except this infirmity, all agreed that
+Rugg was a good soft of a man; for when his fits were over, nobody was
+so ready to commend a placid temper as Peter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was late in autumn, one morning, that Rugg, in his own chair, with
+a fine large bay horse, took his daughter and proceeded to Concord. On
+his return a violent storm overtook him. At dark he stopped in
+Menotomy (now West Cambridge), at the door of a Mr. Cutter, a friend
+of his, who urged him to tarry overnight. On Rugg's declining to stop,
+Mr. Cutter urged him vehemently. 'Why, Mr. Rugg,' said Cutter, 'the
+storm is overwhelming you; the night is exceeding dark; your little
+daughter will perish; you are in an open chair, and the tempest is
+increasing.' '<i>Let the storm increase</i>,' said Rugg, with a fearful
+oath, '<i>I will see home to-night, in spite of the last tempest! or may
+I never see home</i>.' At these words he gave his whip to his
+high-spirited horse, and disappeared in a moment. But Peter Rugg did
+not reach home that night, nor the next; nor, when he became a missing
+man, could he ever be traced beyond Mr. Cutter's in Menotomy. For a
+long time after, on every dark and stormy night, the wife of Peter
+Rugg would fancy she heard the crack of a whip, and the fleet tread of
+a horse, and the rattling of a carriage, passing her door. The
+neighbours, too, heard the same noises, and some said they knew it was
+Rugg's horse; the tread on the pavement was perfectly familiar to
+them. This occurred so repeatedly that at length the neighbours
+watched with lanterns, and saw the real Peter Rugg, with his own horse
+and chair, and child sitting beside him, pass directly before his own
+door, his head turning toward his house, and himself making every
+effort to stop his horse, but in vain. The next day the friends of
+Mrs. Rugg exerted themselves to find her husband and child. They
+inquired at every public house and stable in town; but it did not
+appear that Rugg made any stay in Boston. No one, after Rugg had
+passed his own door, could give any account of him; though it was
+asserted by some that the clatter of Rugg's horse and carriage over
+the pavements shook the houses on both sides of the street. And this
+is credible, if, indeed, Rugg's horse and carriage did pass on that
+night. For at this day, in many of the streets, a loaded truck or team
+in passing will shake the houses like an earthquake. However, Rugg's
+neighbours never afterward watched again; some of them treated it all
+as a delusion, and thought no more of it. Others, of a different
+opinion, shook their heads and said nothing. Thus Rugg and his child,
+horse and chair, were soon forgotten; and probably many in the
+neighbourhood never heard a word on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was indeed a rumour that Rugg afterward was seen in
+Connecticut, between Suffield and Hartford, passing through the
+country like a streak of chalk. This gave occasion to Rugg's friends
+to make further inquiry. But the more they inquired, the more they
+were baffled. If they heard of Rugg one day in Connecticut, the next
+day they heard of him winding around the hills in New Hampshire; and
+soon after, a man in a chair, with a small child, exactly answering
+the description of Peter Rugg, would be seen in Rhode Island,
+inquiring the way to Boston.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that which chiefly gave a colour of mystery to the story of Peter
+Rugg was the affair at Charlestown bridge. The toll-gatherer asserted
+that sometimes, on the darkest and most stormy nights, when no object
+could be discerned about the time Rugg was missing, a horse and
+wheelcarriage, with a noise equal to a troop, would at midnight, in
+utter contempt of the rates of toll, pass over the bridge. This
+occurred so frequently that the toll-gatherer resolved to attempt a
+discovery. Soon after, at the usual time, apparently the same horse
+and carriage approached the bridge from Charlestown square. The
+toll-gatherer, prepared, took his stand as near the middle of the
+bridge as he dared, with a large three-legged stool in his hand. As
+the appearance passed, he threw the stool at the horse, but heard
+nothing except the noise of the stool skipping across the bridge. The
+toll-gatherer on the next day asserted that the stool went directly
+through the body of the horse, and he persisted in that belief ever
+after. Whether Rugg, or whoever the person was, ever passed the bridge
+again, the toll-gatherer would never tell; and when questioned, seemed
+anxious to waive the subject. And thus Peter Rugg and his child, horse
+and carriage, remain a mystery to this day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This, sir, is all that I could learn of Peter Rugg in Boston....</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 33%;" />
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> From Jonathan Dunwell of New York, to Mr. Herman Krauff.</p></div>
+
+
+
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+
+
+
+
+
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+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
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+Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Famous Stories Every Child Should Know
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Hamilton Wright Mabie
+
+Release Date: July 8, 2005 [EBook #16247]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS STORIES EVERY CHILD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Diane Monico and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Old Man of the Mountain]
+
+
+[Illustration: (Title Page)]
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS STORIES
+
+Every Child Should Know
+
+EDITED BY
+
+Hamilton Wright Mabie
+
+THE WHAT-EVERY-CHILD-SHOULD-KNOW-LIBRARY
+
+_Published by_
+
+DOUBLEDAY, DORAN & CO., INC., _for_
+
+THE PARENTS' INSTITUTE, INC.
+
+_Publishers of "The Parents' Magazine"_
+
+9 EAST 40th STREET, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE
+COUNTRY LIFE PRESS. GARDEN CITY. N.Y.
+
+
+
+
+ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
+
+
+The stories of "The Great Stone Face" and "The Snow Image" by
+Nathaniel Hawthorne, are used in this volume by permission of Messrs.
+Houghton, Mifflin & Company. Messrs. Little, Brown & Company have
+granted permission for the republication of "The Man Without a
+Country" by Edward Everett Hale.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The group of stories brought together in this volume differ from
+legends because they have, with one exception, no core of fact at the
+centre, from myths because they make no attempt to personify or
+explain the forces or processes of nature, from fairy stories because
+they do not often bring on to the stage actors of a different nature
+from ours. They give full play to the fancy as in "A Child's Dream of
+a Star," "The King of the Golden River," "Undine," and "The Snow
+Image"; but they are not poetic records of the facts of life, attempts
+to shape those facts "to meet the needs of the imagination, the
+cravings of the heart." In the Introduction to the book of Fairy Tales
+in this series, those familiar and much loved stories which have been
+repeated to children for unnumbered generations and will be repeated
+to the end of time, are described as "records of the free and joyful
+play of the imagination, opening doors through hard conditions to the
+spirit, which craves power, freedom, happiness; righting wrongs, and
+redressing injuries; defeating base designs; rewarding patience and
+virtue; crowning true love with happiness; placing the powers of
+darkness under the control of man and making their ministers his
+servants." The stories which make up this volume are closer to
+experience and come, for the most part, nearer to the every-day
+happenings of life.
+
+A generation ago, when the noble activities of science and its
+inspiring discoveries were taking possession of the minds of men and
+revealing possibilities of power of which they had not dreamed, the
+prediction was freely made that poetry and fiction had had their day,
+and that henceforth men would be educated upon facts and get their
+inspirations from what are called real things. So engrossing and so
+marvellous were the results of investigation, the achievements of
+experiment, that it seemed to many as if the older literature of
+imagination and fancy had served its purpose as completely as alchemy,
+astrology, or chain armour.
+
+The prophecies of those fruitful years of research did not tell half
+the story of the wonderful things that were to be; the uses of
+electricity which are within easy reach for the most homely and
+practical purposes are as mysterious and magical as the dreams of the
+magicians. We are served by invisible ministers who are more powerful
+than the genii and more nimble than Puck. There has been a girdle
+around the world for many years; but there is good reason to believe
+that the time will come when news will go round the globe on waves of
+air. If we were not accustomed to ordering breakfast miles away from
+the grocer and the poulterer, we should be overcome with amazement
+every time we took up the telephone transmitter. Absolutely pure tones
+are now being made by the use of dynamos and will soon be sent into
+homes lying miles distant from the power house, so to speak, so that
+very sweet music is being played by arc lights.
+
+The anticipations of scientific men, so far as the uses of force are
+concerned, have been surpassed by the wonderful discoveries and
+applications of the past few years; but poetry and romance are not
+dead; on the contrary, they are more alive in the sense of awakening a
+wider interest than ever before in the history of writing. During the
+years which have been more fruitful in works of mechanical genius or
+dynamic energy, novels have been more widely distributed and more
+eagerly read than at any previous period. The poetry of the time, in
+the degree in which it has been fresh and vital, has been treated by
+newspapers as matter of universal interest.
+
+Men are born story-readers; if their interest subsides for the moment,
+or is absorbed by other forms of expression, it reasserts itself in
+due time and demands the old enchantment that has woven its spell over
+every generation since men and women reached an early stage of
+development. Barbarians and even savages share with the most highly
+civilised peoples this passion for fiction.
+
+Men cannot live on the bare, literal fact any more than they can live
+on bread alone; there is something in every man to feed besides his
+body. He has been told many times by men of great disinterestedness
+and ability that he must believe only that which he clearly knows and
+understands, and that he must concern himself with those matters only
+which he can thoroughly comprehend. He must live, in other words, by
+the rule of common sense; meaning by that oft-used phrase, clear sight
+and practical dealing with actual things and conditions. It would
+greatly simplify life if this course could be followed, but it would
+simplify it by rejecting those things which the finest spirits among
+men and women have loved most and believed in with joyful and fruitful
+devotion. If we could all become literal, matter of fact and entirely
+practical, we should take the best possible care of our bodies and let
+our souls starve. This, however, the soul absolutely refuses to do;
+when it is ignored it rebels and shivers the apparently solid order of
+common-sense living into fragments. It must have air to breathe, room
+to move in, a language to speak, work to do, and an open window
+through which it can look on the landscape and the sky. It is as idle
+to tell a man to live entirely in and by facts that can be known by
+the senses as to tell him to work in a field and not see the
+landscape of which the field is a part.
+
+The love of the story is one of the expressions of the passion of the
+soul for a glimpse of an order of life amid the chaos of happenings;
+for a setting of life which symbolises the dignity of the actors in
+the play; for room in which to let men work out their instincts and
+risk their hearts in the great adventures of affection or action or
+exploration. Men and women find in stories the opportunities and
+experiences which circumstances have denied them; they insist on the
+dramatisation of life because they know that certain results
+inevitably follow certain actions, and certain deeply interesting
+conflicts and tragedies are bound up with certain temperaments and
+types of character.
+
+The fact that many stories are unwholesome, untrue, vulgar or immoral
+impeaches the value and dignity of fiction as little as the abuse of
+power impeaches the necessity and nobility of government, or the
+excess of the glutton the healthfulness and necessity of food. The
+imagination must not only be counted as an entirely normal faculty,
+but the higher intelligence of the future will recognise its primacy
+among the faculties with which men are endowed. Fiction is not only
+here to stay, as the phrase runs, but it is one of the great and
+enduring forms of literature.
+
+The question is not, therefore, whether or not children shall read
+stories; that question was answered when they were sent into the world
+in the human form and with the human constitution: the only open
+question is "what stories shall they read?" That many children read
+too many stories is beyond question; their excessive devotion to
+fiction wastes time and seriously impairs vigour of mind. In these
+respects they follow the current which carries a multitude of their
+elders to mental inefficiency and waste of power. That they read too
+many weak, untruthful, characterless stories is also beyond question;
+and in this respect also they are like their elders. They need food,
+but in no intelligent household do they select and provide it; they
+are given what they like if it is wholesome; if not, they are given
+something different and better. No sane mother allows her child to
+live on the food it likes if that food is unwholesome; but this is
+precisely what many mothers and fathers do in the matter of feeding
+the imagination. The body is scrupulously cared for and the mind is
+left to care for itself!
+
+Children ought to have stories at hand precisely as they ought to have
+food, toys, games, playgrounds, because stories meet one of the normal
+needs of their natures. But these stories, like the food given to the
+body, ought to be intelligently selected, not only for their quality
+but for their adaptation. There are many good books which ought not to
+be in the hands of children because children have not had the
+experience which interprets them; they will either fail to understand,
+or if they understand, they will suffer a sudden forcing of growth in
+the knowledge of life which is always unwholesome.
+
+Only stories which are sound in the views of life they present ought
+to be within the reach of children; these stories ought to be well
+constructed and well written; they ought to be largely objective
+stories; they ought not to be introspective, morbid or abnormal in any
+way. Goody-good and professionally "pious" stories, sentimental or
+unreal stories, ought to be rigorously excluded. A great deal of
+fiction specially written for children ought to be left severely
+alone; it is cheap, shallow and stamped with unreality from cover to
+cover. It is as unwise to feed the minds of children exclusively on
+books specially prepared for their particular age as to shape the
+talk at breakfast or dinner specially for their stage of development;
+few opportunities for education are more valuable for a child than
+hearing the talk of its elders about the topics of the time. There are
+many wholesome and entertaining stories in the vast mass of fiction
+addressed to younger readers; but this literature of a period ought
+never to exclude the literature of all periods.
+
+The stories collected in this volume have been selected from many
+sources, because in the judgment of the editor, they are sound pieces
+of writing, wholesome in tone, varied in interest and style, and
+interesting. It is his hope that they will not only furnish good
+reading, but that they will suggest the kind of reading in this field
+that should be within the reach of children.
+
+HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS STORIES
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I. A Child's Dream of a Star
+   By CHARLES DICKENS
+
+II. The King of the Golden River or, The Black Brothers
+    By JOHN RUSKIN
+
+III. The Snow Image: A Childish Miracle
+     By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+IV. Undine
+    By FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQUE
+
+V. The Story of Ruth
+   FROM THE BOOK OF RUTH
+
+VI. The Great Stone Face
+    By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+VII. The Diverting History of John Gilpin
+     By WILLIAM COWPER
+
+VIII. The Man Without a Country
+      By EDWARD EVERETT HALE
+
+IX. The Nuernberg Stove
+    By LOUISE DE LA RAMEE ("Ouida")
+
+X. Rab and His Friends
+   By JOHN BROWN, M.D.
+
+XI. Peter Rugg, the Missing Man
+    By WILLIAM AUSTIN
+
+
+
+
+STORIES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR
+
+
+There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought
+of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his
+constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They
+wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and
+blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water;
+they wondered at the goodness and the power of God who made the lovely
+world.
+
+They used to say to one another, sometimes, supposing all the children
+upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky
+be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds
+are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that
+gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the
+smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night,
+must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be
+grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more.
+
+There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky
+before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was
+larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and
+every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window.
+Whoever saw it first cried out, "I see the star!" And often they cried
+out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So
+they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down in their
+beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good-night; and
+when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, "God bless
+the star!"
+
+But while she was still very young, oh very, very young, the sister
+drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the
+window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and
+when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face
+on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile would come upon the
+face, and a little weak voice used to say, "God bless my brother and
+the star!"
+
+And so the time came all too soon! when the child looked out alone,
+and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little
+grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star made long
+rays down toward him, as he saw it through his tears.
+
+Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining
+way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary
+bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was,
+he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And
+the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more
+such angels waited to receive them.
+
+All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the
+people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the
+long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and
+kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light,
+and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for
+joy.
+
+But, there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them
+one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was
+glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all
+the host.
+
+His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to
+the leader among those who had brought the people thither:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said "No."
+
+She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms,
+and cried, "O, sister, I am here! Take me!" and then she turned her
+beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into
+the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his
+tears.
+
+From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the
+home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that
+he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of
+his sister's angel gone before.
+
+There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was
+so little that he never yet had spoken word he stretched his tiny form
+out on his bed, and died.
+
+Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of
+angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their
+beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces.
+
+Said his sister's angel to the leader:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said "Not that one, but another."
+
+As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O,
+sister, I am here! Take me!" And she turned and smiled upon him, and
+the star was shining.
+
+He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books when an old
+servant came to him and said:
+
+"Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!"
+
+Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his
+sister's angel to the leader:
+
+"Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said, "Thy mother!"
+
+A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the
+mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms
+and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!" And
+they answered him, "Not yet," and the star was shining.
+
+He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting
+in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face
+bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again.
+
+Said his sister's angel to the leader: "Is my brother come?"
+
+And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter."
+
+And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to
+him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said, "My
+daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my
+mother's neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I
+can bear the parting from her, God be praised!"
+
+And the star was shining.
+
+Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was
+wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent.
+And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he
+cried, as he had cried so long ago:
+
+"I see the star!"
+
+They whispered one to another, "He is dying."
+
+And he said, "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I
+move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank Thee
+that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones who await me!"
+
+And the star was shining, and it shines upon his grave.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; OR, THE BLACK BROTHERS
+
+
+I.--HOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS WAS INTERFERED
+WITH BY SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE
+
+In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in old time, a
+valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was
+surrounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains, rising into
+peaks, which were always covered with snow, and from which a number of
+torrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward,
+over the face of a crag so high, that, when the sun had set to
+everything else, and all below was darkness, his beams still shone
+full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower of gold. It
+was, therefore, called by the people of the neighbourhood, the Golden
+River. It was strange that none of these streams fell into the valley
+itself. They all descended on the other side of the mountains, and
+wound away through broad plains and by populous cities. But the clouds
+were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in
+the circular hollow, that in time of drought and heat, when all the
+country round was burnt up, there was still rain in the little valley;
+and its crops were so heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so
+red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine so rich, and its honey so
+sweet that it was a marvel to everyone who beheld it, and was
+commonly called the Treasure Valley.
+
+The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers called
+Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,
+were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyes,
+which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into _them_, and
+always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the
+Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed
+everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds,
+because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they
+should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs
+in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all
+summer in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any
+wages, till they would not work any more, and then quarrelled with
+them, and turned them out of doors without paying them. It would have
+been very odd, if with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they
+hadn't got very rich; and very rich they _did_ get. They generally
+contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very dear, and then
+sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying about on
+their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so much as a
+penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled
+perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and
+grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any
+dealings the nickname of the "Black Brothers."
+
+The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both
+appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined
+or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and
+kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree
+particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did not agree
+with _him_. He was usually appointed to the honourable office of
+turnspit, when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for,
+to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon
+themselves than upon other people. At other times he used to clean the
+shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was
+left on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry
+blows, by way of education.
+
+Things went on in this manner for a long time. At last came a very wet
+summer, and everything went wrong in the country around. The hay had
+hardly been got in, when the hay-stacks were floated bodily down to
+the sea by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the hail;
+the corn was all killed by a black blight; only in the Treasure
+Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain
+nowhere else, so it had sun when there was sun nowhere else. Everybody
+came to buy corn at the farm, and went away pouring maledictions on
+the Black Brothers. They asked what they liked, and got it, except
+from the poor, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at
+their very door, without the slightest regard or notice.
+
+It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when one day the
+two elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning to little
+Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let nobody in,
+and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it
+was raining very hard, and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or
+comfortable-looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got nice and
+brown. "What a pity," thought Gluck, "my brothers never ask anybody to
+dinner. I'm sure, when they've got such a nice piece of mutton as
+this, and nobody else has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it
+would do their hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them."
+
+Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door, yet
+heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been tied up--more like a
+puff than a knock.
+
+"It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else would venture to knock
+double knocks at our door."
+
+No; it wasn't the wind: there it came again very hard, and what was
+particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not
+to be in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went to the
+window, opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.
+
+It was the most extraordinary looking little gentleman he had ever
+seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-coloured;
+his cheeks were very round, and very red, and might have warranted a
+supposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last
+eight and forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long silky
+eyelashes, his moustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each
+side of his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt
+colour, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four-feet-six
+in height, and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,
+decorated with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet was
+prolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of
+what is now termed a "swallow-tail," but was much obscured by the
+swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must
+have been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling
+round the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders
+to about four times his own length.
+
+Gluck was so perfectly paralysed by the singular appearance of his
+visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the old
+gentleman, having performed another, and a more energetic concerto on
+the knocker, turned round to look after his fly-away cloak. In so
+doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the
+window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.
+
+"Hollo!" said the little gentleman, "that's not the way to answer the
+door. I'm wet, let me in."
+
+To do the little gentleman justice, he _was_ wet. His feather hung
+down between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an
+umbrella; and from the ends of his moustaches the water was running
+into his waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but I really can't."
+
+"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.
+
+"I can't let you in, sir--I can't indeed; my brothers would beat me to
+death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"
+
+"Want?" said the old gentleman, petulantly, "I want fire, and shelter;
+and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on
+the walls, with nobody to feel it Let me in, I say; I only want to
+warm myself."
+
+Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that
+he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned,
+and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing long
+bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the
+savory smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it
+should be burning away for nothing. "He does look _very_ wet," said
+little Gluck; "I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round
+he went to the door, and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked
+in, there came a gust of wind through the house, that made the old
+chimneys totter.
+
+"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind your
+brothers. I'll talk to them."
+
+"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let you
+stay till they come; they'd be the death of me."
+
+"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm very sorry to hear that. How
+long may I stay?"
+
+"Only till the mutton's done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's very
+brown."
+
+Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himself down
+on the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for
+it was a great deal too high for the roof.
+
+"You'll soon dry there, sir," said Gluck, and sat down again to turn
+the mutton. But the old gentleman did _not_ dry there, but went on
+drip, drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, and
+sputtered, and began to look very black, and uncomfortable: never was
+such a cloak; every fold in it ran like a gutter.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck at length, after watching the water
+spreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for a
+quarter of an hour; "mayn't I take your cloak?"
+
+"No, thank you," said the old gentleman.
+
+"Your cap, sir?"
+
+"I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman rather gruffly.
+
+"But--sir--I'm very sorry," said Gluck, hesitatingly; "but--really,
+sir--you're--putting the fire out."
+
+"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then," replied his visitor dryly.
+
+Gluck was very much puzzled by the behaviour of his guest, it was such
+a strange mixture of coolness and humility. He turned away at the
+string meditatively for another five minutes.
+
+"That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentleman at length.
+"Can't you give me a little bit?"
+
+"Impossible, sir," said Gluck.
+
+"I'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman. "I've had nothing to
+eat yesterday, nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a bit from the
+knuckle!"
+
+He spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite melted Gluck's
+heart. "They promised me one slice to-day, sir," said he; "I can give
+you that, but not a bit more."
+
+"That's a good boy," said the old gentleman again.
+
+Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. "I don't care if I do
+get beaten for it," thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice out
+of the mutton there came a tremendous rap at the door. The old
+gentleman jumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly become
+inconveniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again,
+with desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the door.
+
+"What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?" said Schwartz, as he
+walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face. "Ay! what for,
+indeed, you little vagabond?" said Hans, administering an educational
+box on the ear, as he followed his brother into the kitchen.
+
+"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz when he opened the door.
+
+"Amen," said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off, and was
+standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible
+velocity.
+
+"Who's that?" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, and turning to
+Gluck with a fierce frown.
+
+"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck in great terror.
+
+"How did he get in?" roared Schwartz.
+
+"My dear brother," said Gluck, deprecatingly, "he was so _very_ wet!"
+
+The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head; but at the instant,
+the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed with
+a shock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What was
+very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out
+of Schwartz's hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell
+into the corner at the further end of the room.
+
+"Who are you, sir?" demanded Schwartz, turning upon him.
+
+"What's your business?" snarled Hans.
+
+"I'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman began very modestly,
+"and I saw your fire through the window, and begged shelter for a
+quarter of an hour."
+
+"Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said Schwartz. "We've
+quite enough water in our kitchen, without making it a drying-house."
+
+"It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my gray
+hairs." They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.
+
+"Ay!" said Hans, "there are enough of them to keep you warm. Walk!"
+
+"I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of bread
+before I go?"
+
+"Bread indeed!" said Schwartz; "do you suppose we've nothing to do
+with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?"
+
+"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans, sneeringly. "Out with
+you!"
+
+"A little bit," said the old gentleman.
+
+"Be off!" said Schwartz.
+
+"Pray, gentlemen--"
+
+"Off, and be hanged!" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he
+had no sooner touched the old gentleman's collar, than away he went
+after the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the
+corner on the top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the
+old gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him,
+when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head
+against the wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay,
+all three.
+
+Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the
+opposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all
+wound neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one
+side (for it could not stand upright without going through the
+ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and
+replied with perfect coolness: "Gentlemen, I wish you a very good
+morning. At twelve o'clock to-night I'll call again; after such a
+refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, you will not be
+surprised if that visit is the last I ever pay you."
+
+"If ever I catch you here again," muttered Schwartz, coming half
+frightened out of his corner--but, before he could finish his
+sentence, the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a
+great bang: and there drove past the window, at the same instant, a
+wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley
+in all manner of shapes; turning over and over in the air, and melting
+away at last in a gush of rain.
+
+"A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!" said Schwartz. "Dish the
+mutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again--bless me, why,
+the mutton's been cut!"
+
+"You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said Gluck.
+
+"Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all
+the gravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again.
+Leave the room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar
+till I call you."
+
+Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much mutton
+as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and proceeded to get
+very drunk after dinner.
+
+Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without
+intermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all
+the shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They
+usually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were
+both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a
+violence that shook the house from top to bottom.
+
+"What's that?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.
+
+"Only I," said the little gentleman.
+
+The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the
+darkness. The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which
+found its way through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the
+midst of it an enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and
+down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined
+the little old gentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it
+now, for the roof was off.
+
+"Sorry to incommode you," said their visitor, ironically. "I'm afraid
+your beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your brother's
+room: I've left the ceiling on, there."
+
+They required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wet
+through, and in an agony of terror.
+
+"You'll find my card on the kitchen table," the old gentleman called
+after them. "Remember the _last_ visit."
+
+"Pray Heaven it may!" said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globe
+disappeared.
+
+Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's little
+window in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and
+desolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle,
+and left in their stead a waste of red sand and gray mud. The two
+brothers crept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water
+had gutted the whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movable
+thing, had been swept away and there was left only a small white card
+on the kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters,
+were engraved the words: _South-West Wind, Esquire_.
+
+
+II.--OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER THE VISIT OF
+SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE; AND HOW LITTLE GLUCK HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH
+THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.
+
+Southwest Wind, Esquire, was as good as his word. After the momentous
+visit above related, he entered the Treasure Valley no more; and, what
+was worse, he had so much influence with his relations, the West Winds
+in general, and used it so effectually, that they all adopted a
+similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley from one year's
+end to another. Though everything remained green and flourishing in
+the plains below, the inheritance of the Three Brothers was a desert.
+What had once been the richest soil in the kingdom, became a shifting
+heap of red sand; and the brothers, unable longer to contend with the
+adverse skies, abandoned their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek
+some means of gaining a livelihood among the cities and people of the
+plains. All their money was gone, and they had nothing left but some
+curious, old-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of
+their ill-gotten wealth.
+
+"Suppose we turn goldsmiths?" said Schwartz to Hans, as they entered
+the large city. "It is a good knave's trade; we can put a great deal
+of copper into the gold, without any one's finding it out."
+
+The thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired a furnace,
+and turned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances affected their
+trade: the first, that people did not approve of the coppered gold;
+the second, that the two elder brothers, whenever they had sold
+anything, used to leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and
+drink out the money in the ale-house next door. So they melted all
+their gold, without making money enough to buy more, and were at last
+reduced to one large drinking-mug, which an uncle of his had given to
+little Gluck, and which he was very fond of, and would not have parted
+with for the world; though he never drank anything out of it but milk
+and water. The mug was a very odd mug to look at. The handle was
+formed of two wreaths of flowing golden hair, so finely spun that it
+looked more like silk than metal, and these wreaths descended into,
+and mixed with, a beard and whiskers of the same exquisite
+workmanship, which surrounded and decorated a very fierce little face,
+of the reddest gold imaginable, right in the front of the mug, with a
+pair of eyes in it which seemed to command its whole circumference. It
+was impossible to drink out of the mug without being subjected to an
+intense gaze out of the side of these eyes; and Schwartz positively
+averred, that once, after emptying it, full of Rhenish, seventeen
+times, he had seen them wink! When it came to the mug's turn to be
+made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck's heart: but the
+brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and
+staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual, to pour the
+gold into bars, when it was all ready.
+
+When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old friend in
+the melting-pot. The flowing hair was all gone; nothing remained but
+the red nose, and the sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than
+ever. "And no wonder," thought Gluck, "after being treated in that
+way." He sauntered disconsolately to the window, and sat himself down
+to catch the fresh evening air, and escape the hot breath of the
+furnace. Now this window commanded a direct view of the range of
+mountains, which, as I told before, overhung the Treasure Valley, and
+more especially of the peak from which fell the Golden River. It was
+just at the close of the day, and when Gluck sat down at the window he
+saw the rocks of the mountain tops, all crimson and purple with the
+sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and
+quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a
+waving column of pure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the
+double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing
+and fading alternately in the wreaths of spray.
+
+"Ah!" said Gluck aloud, after he had looked at it for a while, "if
+that river were really all gold, what a nice thing it would be."
+
+"No it wouldn't, Gluck," said a clear, metallic voice close at his
+ear.
+
+"Bless me! what's that?" exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. There was nobody
+there. He looked round the room, and under the table, and a great many
+times behind him, but there was certainly nobody there, and he sat
+down again at the window. This time he didn't speak, but he couldn't
+help thinking again that it would be very convenient if the river were
+really all gold.
+
+"Not at all, my boy," said the same voice, louder than before.
+
+"Bless me!" said Gluck again; "what _is_ that?" He looked again into
+all the corners and cupboards, and then began turning round, and
+round, as fast as he could in the middle of the room, thinking there
+was somebody behind him, when the same voice struck again on his ear.
+It was singing now very merrily, "Lala-lira-la;" no words, only a soft
+running, effervescent melody, something like that of a kettle on the
+boil. Gluck looked out of the window. No, it was certainly in the
+house. Upstairs, and downstairs. No, it was certainly in that very
+room, coming in quicker time, and clearer notes, every moment.
+"Lala-lira-la." All at once it struck Gluck that it sounded louder
+near the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked in: yes, he saw
+right; it seemed to be coming, not only out of the furnace, but out of
+the pot. He uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright, for the pot
+was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest corner of the room,
+with his hands up, and his mouth open, for a minute or two, when the
+singing stopped, and the voice became clear and pronunciative.
+
+"Hollo!" said the voice.
+
+Gluck made no answer.
+
+"Hollo! Gluck, my boy," said the pot again.
+
+Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the crucible,
+drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. The gold was all melted,
+and its surface as smooth and polished as a river; but instead of
+reflecting little Gluck's head, as he looked in, he saw meeting his
+glance from beneath the gold the red nose and sharp eyes of his old
+friend of the mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever he
+had seen them in his life.
+
+"Come, Gluck, my boy," said the voice out of the pot again, "I'm all
+right; pour me out."
+
+But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.
+
+"Pour me out, I say," said the voice rather gruffly.
+
+Still Gluck couldn't move.
+
+"_Will_ you pour me out?" said the voice passionately. "I'm too hot."
+
+By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took hold
+of the crucible, and sloped it so as to pour out the gold. But instead
+of a liquid stream, there came out, first, a pair of pretty little
+yellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of arms stuck akimbo,
+and, finally, the well-known head of his friend the mug; all which
+articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically on the
+floor, in the shape of a little golden dwarf, about a foot and a half
+high.
+
+"That's right!" said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs, and
+then his arms, and then shaking his head up and down, and as far round
+as it would go, for five minutes without stopping; apparently with the
+view of ascertaining if he were quite correctly put together, while
+Gluck stood contemplating him in speechless amazement. He was dressed
+in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so fine in its texture, that the
+prismatic colours gleamed over it, as if on a surface of
+mother-of-pearl; and, over this brilliant doublet, his hair and beard
+fell full halfway to the ground, in waving curls, so exquisitely
+delicate that Gluck could hardly tell where they ended; they seemed to
+melt into air. The features of the face, however, were by no means
+finished with the same delicacy; they were rather coarse, slightly
+inclining to coppery in complexion, and indicative, in expression, of
+a very pertinacious and intractable disposition in their small
+proprietor. When the dwarf had finished his self-examination, he
+turned his small eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him deliberately
+for a minute or two. "No, it wouldn't, Gluck, my boy," said the little
+man.
+
+This was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected mode of commencing
+conversation. It might indeed be supposed to refer to the course of
+Gluck's thoughts, which had first produced the dwarf's observations
+out of the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had no inclination
+to dispute the dictum.
+
+"Wouldn't it, sir?" said Gluck, very mildly and submissively indeed.
+
+"No," said the dwarf, conclusively. "No, it wouldn't." And with that,
+the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his brows, and took two turns, of
+three feet long, up and down the room, lifting his legs up very high,
+and setting them down very hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to
+collect his thoughts a little, and, seeing no great reason to view his
+diminutive visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosity overcome his
+amazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar delicacy.
+
+"Pray, sir," said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, "were you my mug?"
+
+On which the little man turned sharp round, walked straight up to
+Gluck, and drew himself up to his full height. "I," said the little
+man, "am the King of the Golden River." Whereupon he turned about
+again, and took two more turns, some six feet long, in order to allow
+time for the consternation which this announcement produced in his
+auditor to evaporate. After which, he again walked up to Gluck and
+stood still, as if expecting some comment on his communication.
+
+Gluck determined to say something at all events. "I hope your Majesty
+is very well," said Gluck.
+
+"Listen!" said the little man, deigning no reply to this polite
+inquiry. "I am the King of what you mortals call the Golden River. The
+shape you saw me in was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from
+whose enchantments you have this instant freed me. What I have seen of
+you, and your conduct to your wicked brothers, renders me willing to
+serve you; therefore, attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall climb
+to the top of that mountain from which you see the Golden River
+issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source three drops of
+holy water, for him, and for him only, the river shall turn to gold.
+But no one failing in his first, can succeed in a second attempt; and
+if anyone shall cast unholy water into the river, it will overwhelm
+him, and he will become a black stone." So saying, the King of the
+Golden River turned away and deliberately walked into the centre of
+the hottest flame of the furnace. His figure became red, white,
+transparent, dazzling--a blaze of intense light--rose, trembled, and
+disappeared. The King of the Golden River had evaporated.
+
+"Oh!" cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney after him; "oh
+dear, dear, dear me! My mug! my mug! my mug!"
+
+
+III.--HOW MR. HANS SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN
+
+The King of the Golden River had hardly made the extraordinary exit
+related in the last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz came roaring
+into the house, very savagely drunk. The discovery of the total loss
+of their last piece of plate had the effect of sobering them just
+enough to enable them to stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily
+for a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which period they
+dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested to know what he had to
+say for himself. Gluck told them his story, of which, of course, they
+did not believe a word. They beat him again, till their arms were
+tired, and staggered to bed. In the morning, however, the steadiness
+with which he adhered to his story obtained him some degree of
+credence; the immediate consequence of which was, that the two
+brothers, after wrangling a long time on the knotty question, which
+of them should try his fortune first, drew their swords and began
+fighting. The noise of the fray alarmed the neighbours who, finding
+they could not pacify the combatants, sent for the constable.
+
+Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid himself; but
+Schwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for breaking the
+peace, and, having drunk out his last penny the evening before, was
+thrown into prison till he should pay.
+
+When Hans heard this, he was much delighted, and determined to set out
+immediately for the Golden River. How to get the holy water was the
+question. He went to the priest, but the priest could not give any
+holy water to so abandoned a character. So Hans went to vespers in the
+evening for the first time in his life, and, under pretence of
+crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned home in triumph.
+
+Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy water into a
+strong flask, and two bottles of wine and some meat in a basket, slung
+them over his back, took his alpine staff in his hand, and set off for
+the mountains.
+
+On his way out of the town he had to pass the prison, and as he looked
+in at the windows, whom should he see but Schwartz himself peeping out
+of the bars, and looking very disconsolate.
+
+"Good morning, brother," said Hans; "have you any message for the King
+of the Golden River?"
+
+Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars with all his
+strength; but Hans only laughed at him, and advising him to make
+himself comfortable till he came back again, shouldered his basket,
+shook the bottle of holy water in Schwartz's face till it frothed
+again, and marched off in the highest spirits in the world.
+
+It was, indeed, a morning that might have made anyone happy, even
+with no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay
+stretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy
+mountains--their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly
+distinguishable from the floating vapour, but gradually ascending till
+they caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy colour
+along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through
+their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red splintered
+masses of castellated rock, jagged and shivered into myriads of
+fantastic forms, with here and there a streak of sunlit snow, traced
+down their chasms like a line of forked lightning; and, far beyond,
+and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, but purer and
+changeless, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the eternal
+snow.
+
+The Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower and snowless
+elevations, was now nearly in shadow; all but the uppermost jets of
+spray, which rose like slow smoke above the undulating line of the
+cataract, and floated away in feeble wreaths upon the morning wind.
+
+On this object, and on this alone, Hans's eyes and thoughts were
+fixed; forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set off at an
+imprudent rate of walking, which greatly exhausted him before he had
+scaled the first range of the green and low hills. He was, moreover,
+surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a large glacier, of whose
+existence, notwithstanding his previous knowledge of the mountains, he
+had been absolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source of the
+Golden River. He entered on it with the boldness of a practised
+mountaineer; yet he thought he had never traversed so strange or so
+dangerous a glacier in his life. The ice was excessively slippery, and
+out of all its chasms came wild sounds of gushing water; not
+monotonous or low; but changeful and loud, rising occasionally into
+drifting passages of wild melody, then breaking off into short
+melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling those of human voices
+in distress or pain. The ice was broken into thousands of confused
+shapes, but none, Hans thought like the ordinary forms of splintered
+ice. There seemed a curious _expression_ about all their outlines--a
+perpetual resemblance to living features, distorted and scornful.
+Myriads of deceitful shadows, and lurid lights, played and floated
+about and through the pale-blue pinnacles, dazzling and confusing the
+sight of the traveller; while his ears grew dull and his head giddy
+with the constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. These painful
+circumstances increased upon him as he advanced; the ice crashed and
+yawned into fresh chasms at his feet, tottering spires nodded around
+him, and fell thundering across his path; and, though he had
+repeatedly faced these dangers on the most terrific glaciers, and in
+the wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling of panic
+terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flung himself, exhausted and
+shuddering, on the firm turf of the mountain.
+
+He had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, which became a
+perilous incumbrance on the glacier, and had now no means of
+refreshing himself but by breaking off and eating some of the pieces
+of ice. This, however, relieved his thirst; an hour's repose recruited
+his hardy frame, and, with the indomitable spirit of avarice, he
+resumed his laborious journey.
+
+His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red rocks, without a blade
+of grass to ease the foot, or a projecting angle to afford an inch of
+shade from the south sun. It was past noon, and the rays beat
+intensely upon the steep path, while the whole atmosphere was
+motionless, and penetrated with heat. Intense thirst was soon added
+to the bodily fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glance after
+glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at his belt. "Three
+drops are enough," at last thought he; "I may, at least, cool my lips
+with it."
+
+He opened the flask, and was raising it to his lips, when his eye fell
+on an object lying on the rock beside him; he thought it moved. It was
+a small dog, apparently in the last agony of death from thirst. Its
+tongue was out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, and a
+swarm of black ants were crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye
+moved to the bottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised it, drank,
+spurned the animal with his foot, and passed on. And he did not know
+how it was, but he thought that a strange shadow had suddenly come
+across the blue sky.
+
+The path became steeper and more rugged every moment; and the high
+hill air, instead of refreshing him, seemed to throw his blood into a
+fever. The noise of the hill cataracts sounded like mockery in his
+ears; they were all distant, and his thirst increased every moment.
+Another hour passed, and he again looked down to the flask at his
+side; it was half empty; but there was much more than three drops in
+it. He stopped to open it, and again, as he did so, something moved in
+the path above him. It was a fair child, stretched nearly lifeless on
+the rock, its breast heaving with thirst, its eyes closed, and its
+lips parched and burning. Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed
+on. And a dark-gray cloud came over the sun, and long, snake-like
+shadows crept up along the mountain sides. Hans struggled on. The sun
+was sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no coolness; the leaden
+weight of the dead air pressed upon his brow and heart, but the goal
+was near. He saw the cataract of the Golden River springing from the
+hillside, scarcely five hundred feet above him. He paused for a
+moment to breathe, and sprang on to complete his task.
+
+At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned, and saw a
+gray-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes were sunk, his
+features deadly pale, and gathered into an expression of despair.
+"Water!" he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried feebly, "Water! I am
+dying."
+
+"I have none," replied Hans; "thou hast had thy share of life." He
+strode over the prostrate body, and darted on. And a flash of blue
+lightning rose out of the east, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice
+over the whole heaven, and left it dark with one heavy, impenetrable
+shade. The sun was setting; it plunged toward the horizon like a
+red-hot ball.
+
+The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans's ear. He stood at the brink
+of the chasm through which it ran. Its waves were filled with the red
+glory of the sunset: they shook their crests like tongues of fire, and
+flashes of bloody light gleamed along their foam. Their sound came
+mightier and mightier on his senses; his brain grew giddy with the
+prolonged thunder. Shuddering he drew the flask from his girdle, and
+hurled it into the centre of the torrent. As he did so, an icy chill
+shot through his limbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The waters
+closed over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the
+night, as it gushed over _The Black Stone_.
+
+
+IV.--HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER,
+AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN
+
+Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house for Hans's
+return. Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened, and
+went and told Schwartz in the prison all that had happened. Then
+Schwartz was very much pleased, and said that Hans must certainly
+have been turned into a black stone, and he should have all the gold
+to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all night. When he got
+up in the morning there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so
+Gluck went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so
+hard, and so neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money
+enough together to pay his brother's fine, and he went and gave it all
+to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then Schwartz was quite
+pleased, and said he should have some of the gold of the river. But
+Gluck only begged he would go and see what had become of Hans.
+
+Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen the holy water, he
+thought to himself that such a proceeding might not be considered
+altogether correct by the King of the Golden River, and determined to
+manage matters better. So he took some more of Gluck's money, and went
+to a bad priest who gave him some holy water very readily for it. Then
+Schwartz was sure it was all quite right. So Schwartz got up early in
+the morning before the sun rose, and took some bread and wine in a
+basket, and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for the
+mountains. Like his brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the
+glacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving
+his basket behind him. The day was cloudless, but not bright: there
+was a heavy purple haze hanging over the sky, and the hills looked
+lowering and gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock path, the
+thirst came upon him, as it had upon his brother, until he lifted his
+flask to his lips to drink. Then he saw the fair child lying near him
+on the rocks, and it cried to him, and moaned for water.
+
+"Water, indeed," said Schwartz; "I haven't half enough for myself,"
+and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeams grew more dim,
+and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising out of the west; and, when
+he had climbed for another hour, the thirst overcame him again, and he
+would have drunk. Then he saw the old man lying before him on the
+path, and heard him cry out for water. "Water, indeed," said Schwartz;
+"I haven't half enough for myself," and on he went.
+
+Then again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and he
+looked up, and, behold, a mist, of the colour of blood, had come over
+the sun; and the bank of black cloud had risen very high, and its
+edges were tossing and tumbling like the waves of an angry sea. And
+they cast long shadows, which flickered over Schwartz's path.
+
+Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his thirst returned;
+and as he lifted his flask to his lips, he thought he saw his brother
+Hans lying exhausted on the path before him; and, as he gazed, the
+figure stretched its arms to him, and cried for water. "Ha, ha,"
+laughed Schwartz, "are you there? Remember the prison bars, my boy.
+Water indeed! Do you suppose I carried it all the way up here for
+_you_?" And he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed, he thought
+he saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips. And, when he
+had gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure was not
+there.
+
+And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not why; but the
+thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, and he rushed on. And the
+bank of black cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of
+spiry lightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heave and float
+between their flashes over the whole heavens. And the sky where the
+sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood; and a strong
+wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into fragments,
+and scattering them far into the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by
+the brink of the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder
+clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the waters
+below, and the thunder above, met, as he cast the flask into the
+stream. And, as he did so, the lightning glared into his eyes, and the
+earth gave way beneath him, and the waters closed over his cry. And
+the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over
+the _Two Black Stones_.
+
+
+V.--HOW LITTLE GLUCK SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND
+HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN; WITH OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST
+
+When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back he was very sorry,
+and did not know what to do. He had no money, and was obliged to go
+and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard, and
+gave him very little money. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew
+tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden
+River. "The little king looked very kind," thought he. "I don't think
+he will turn me into a black stone." So he went to the priest, and the
+priest gave him some holy water as soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck
+took some bread in his basket, and the bottle of water, and set off
+very early for the mountains.
+
+If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers,
+it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so
+practised on the mountains. He had several very bad falls, lost his
+basket and bread, and was very much frightened at the strange noises
+under the ice. He lay a long time to rest on the grass, after he had
+got over, and began to climb the hill in just the hottest part of the
+day. When he had climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty, and
+was going to drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming
+down the path above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on a staff.
+"My son," said the old man, "I am faint with thirst, give me some of
+that water." Then Gluck looked at him, and, when he saw that he was
+pale and weary, he gave him the water. "Only pray don't drink it all,"
+said Gluck. But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the
+bottle two-thirds empty. Then he bade him good speed, and Gluck went
+on again merrily. And the path became easier to his feet, and two or
+three blades of grass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began
+singing on the bank beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard
+such merry singing.
+
+Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him so
+that he thought he should be forced to drink. But, as he raised the
+flask, he saw a little child lying panting by the roadside, and it
+cried out piteously for water. Then Gluck struggled with himself, and
+determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle
+to the child's lips, and it drank it all but a few drops. Then it
+smiled on him, and got up, and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked
+after it till it became as small as a little star, and then turned and
+began climbing again. And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers
+growing on the rocks, bright green moss, with pale pink starry
+flowers, and soft belled gentians, more blue than the sky at its
+deepest, and pure white transparent lilies. And crimson and purple
+butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure
+light, that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.
+
+Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became
+intolerable again; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw that
+there were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not venture
+to drink. And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw
+a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath--just as Hans had
+seen it on the day of his ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at it
+and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him; and he
+thought of the dwarf's words, "that no one could succeed, except in
+his first attempt"; and he tried to pass the dog, but it whined
+piteously, and Gluck stopped again. "Poor beastie!" said Gluck: "it'll
+be dead when I come down again, if I don't help it." Then he looked
+closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mournfully that
+he could not stand it. "Confound the King and his gold too," said
+Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the water into the
+dog's mouth.
+
+The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its tail disappeared,
+its ears became long, longer, silky, golden; its nose became very red,
+its eyes became very twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, and
+before Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of the Golden River.
+
+"Thank you," said the monarch; "but don't be frightened, it's all
+right"; for Gluck showed manifest symptoms of consternation at this
+unlooked-for reply to his last observation. "Why didn't you come
+before," continued the dwarf, "instead of sending me those rascally
+brothers of yours, for me to have the trouble of turning into stones?
+Very hard stones they make too."
+
+"Oh dear me!" said Gluck; "have you really been so cruel?"
+
+"Cruel!" said the dwarf, "they poured unholy water into my stream; do
+you suppose I'm going to allow that?"
+
+"Why," said Gluck, "I am sure, sir--your Majesty, I mean--they got the
+water out of the church font."
+
+"Very probably," replied the dwarf; "but," and his countenance grew
+stern as he spoke, "the water which has been refused to the cry of
+the weary and dying is unholy, though it had been blessed by every
+saint in heaven; and the water which is found in the vessel of mercy
+is holy, though it had been defiled with corpses."
+
+So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew at his feet.
+On its white leaves there hung three drops of clear dew. And the dwarf
+shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his hand. "Cast these
+into the river," he said, "and descend on the other side of the
+mountains into the Treasure Valley. And so good speed."
+
+As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. The playing
+colours of his robe formed themselves into a prismatic mist of dewy
+light; he stood for an instant veiled with them as with the belt of a
+broad rainbow. The colours grew faint, the mist rose into the air; the
+monarch had evaporated.
+
+And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, and its waves were
+as clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the sun. And, when he cast
+the three drops of dew into the stream, there opened where they fell a
+small circular whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a
+musical noise.
+
+Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disappointed, because
+not only the river was not turned into gold, but its waters seemed
+much diminished in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend the dwarf, and
+descended the other side of the mountains toward the Treasure Valley;
+and, as he went, he thought he heard the noise of water working its
+way under the ground. And, when he came in sight of the Treasure
+Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden River was springing from a
+new cleft of the rocks above it, and was flowing in innumerable
+streams among the dry heaps of red sand.
+
+And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams, and
+creeping plants grew, and climbed among this moistening soil. Young
+flowers opened suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap out when
+twilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and tendrils of vine,
+cast lengthening shadows over the valley as they grew. And thus the
+Treasure Valley became a garden again, and the inheritance which had
+been lost by cruelty was regained by love.
+
+And Gluck went, and dwelt in the valley, and the poor were never
+driven from his door: so that his barns became full of corn, and his
+house of treasure. And, for him, the river had, according to the
+dwarf's promise, become a River of Gold.
+
+And, to this day, the inhabitants of the valley point out the place
+where the three drops of holy dew were cast into the stream, and trace
+the course of the Golden River under the ground, until it emerges in
+the Treasure Valley. And at the top of the cataract of the Golden
+River are still to be seen two BLACK STONES, round which the waters
+howl mournfully every day at sunset, and these stones are still called
+by the people of the valley _The Black Brothers_.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE SNOW-IMAGE: A CHILDISH MIRACLE
+
+
+One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with
+chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of
+their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow. The elder
+child was a girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest
+disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and
+other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her
+brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the
+ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody
+think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers. The father of these two
+children, a certain Mr. Lindsey, it is important to say, was an
+excellent but exceedingly matter-of-fact sort of man, a dealer in
+hardware, and was sturdily accustomed to take what is called the
+common-sense view of all matters that came under his consideration.
+With a heart about as tender as other people's, he had a head as hard
+and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps, as empty, as one of the iron
+pots which it was a part of his business to sell. The mother's
+character, on the other hand, had a strain of poetry in it, a trait of
+unworldly beauty--a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had
+survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive
+amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood.
+
+So, Violet and Peony, as I began with saying, besought their mother to
+let them run out and play in the new snow; for, though it had looked
+so dreary and dismal, drifting downward out of the gray sky, it had a
+very cheerful aspect, now that the sun was shining on it. The children
+dwelt in a city, and had no wider play-place than a little garden
+before the house, divided by a white fence from the street, and with a
+pear-tree and two or three plum-trees overshadowing it, and some
+rose-bushes just in front of the parlour-windows. The trees and
+shrubs, however, were now leafless, and their twigs were enveloped in
+the light snow, which thus made a kind of wintry foliage, with here
+and there a pendent icicle for the fruit.
+
+"Yes, Violet--yes, my little Peony," said their kind mother; "you may
+go out and play in the new snow."
+
+Accordingly, the good lady bundled up her darlings in woollen jackets
+and wadded sacks, and put comforters round their necks, and a pair of
+striped gaiters on each little pair of legs, and worsted mittens on
+their hands, and gave them a kiss apiece, by way of a spell to keep
+away Jack Frost. Forth sallied the two children, with a
+hop-skip-and-jump, that carried them at once into the very heart of a
+huge snow-drift, whence Violet emerged like a snow-bunting, while
+little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom. Then
+what a merry time had they! To look at them, frolicking in the wintry
+garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had
+been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for
+Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the
+snow-birds were, to take delight only in the tempest, and in the white
+mantle which it spread over the earth.
+
+At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of
+snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was
+struck with a new idea.
+
+"You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony," said she, "if your cheeks
+were not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us make an image out
+of snow--an image of a little girl--and it shall be our sister, and
+shall run about and play with us all winter long. Won't it be nice?"
+
+"O, yes!" cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but a
+little boy. "That will be nice! And mamma shall see it!"
+
+"Yes," answered Violet; "mamma shall see the new little girl. But she
+must not make her come into the warm parlour; for, you know, our
+little snow-sister will not love the warmth."
+
+And forthwith the children began this great business of making a
+snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting
+at the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling
+at the gravity with which they set about it. They really seemed to
+imagine that there would be no difficulty whatever in creating a live
+little girl out of the snow. And, to say the truth, if miracles are
+ever to be wrought, it will be by putting our hands to the work in
+precisely such a simple and undoubting frame of mind as that in which
+Violet and Peony now undertook to perform one, without so much as
+knowing that it was a miracle. So thought the mother; and thought,
+likewise, that the new snow, just fallen from heaven, would be
+excellent material to make new beings of, if it were not so very cold.
+She gazed at the children a moment longer, delighting to watch their
+little figures--the girl, tall for her age, graceful and agile, and so
+delicately coloured that she looked like a cheerful thought, more than
+a physical reality; while Peony expanded in breadth rather than
+height, and rolled along on his short and sturdy legs as substantial
+as an elephant, though not quite so big. Then the mother resumed her
+work. What it was I forget; but she was either trimming a silken
+bonnet for Violet, or darning a pair of stockings for little Peony's
+short legs. Again, however, and again, and yet other agains, she could
+not help turning her head to the window to see how the children got on
+with their snow-image.
+
+Indeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight, those bright little
+souls at their task! Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe how
+knowingly and skilfully they managed the matter. Violet assumed the
+chief direction, and told Peony what to do, while, with her own
+delicate fingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the
+snow-figure. It seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the
+children, as to grow up under their hands, while they were playing and
+prattling about it. Their mother was quite surprised at this; and the
+longer she looked, the more and more surprised she grew.
+
+"What remarkable children mine are!" thought she, smiling with a
+mother's pride; and, smiling at herself, too, for being so proud of
+them. "What other children could have made anything so like a little
+girl's figure out of snow at the first trial? Well; but now I must
+finish Peony's new frock, for his grandfather is coming to-morrow, and
+I want the little fellow to look handsome."
+
+So she took up the frock, and was soon as busily at work again with
+her needle as the two children with their snow-image. But still, as
+the needle travelled hither and thither through the seams of the
+dress, the mother made her toil light and happy by listening to the
+airy voices of Violet and Peony. They kept talking to one another all
+the time, their tongues being quite as active as their feet and hands.
+Except at intervals, she could not distinctly hear what was said, but
+had merely a sweet impression that they were in a most loving mood,
+and were enjoying themselves highly, and that the business of making
+the snow-image went prosperously on. Now and then, however, when
+Violet and Peony happened to raise their voices, the words were as
+audible as if they had been spoken in the very parlour, where the
+mother sat. O how delightfully those words echoed in her heart, even
+though they meant nothing so very wise or wonderful, after all!
+
+But you must know a mother listens with her heart, much more than with
+her ears; and thus she is often delighted with the trills of celestial
+music, when other people can hear nothing of the kind.
+
+"Peony, Peony!" cried Violet to her brother, who had gone to another
+part of the garden, "bring me some of that fresh snow, Peony, from the
+very farthest corner, where we have not been trampling. I want it to
+shape our little snow-sister's bosom with. You know that part must be
+quite pure, just as it came out of the sky!"
+
+"Here it is, Violet!" answered Peony, in his bluff tone--but a very
+sweet tone, too--as he came floundering through the half-trodden
+drifts. "Here is the snow for her little bosom. O Violet, how
+beau-ti-ful she begins to look!"
+
+"Yes," said Violet, thoughtfully and quietly; "our snow-sister does
+look very lovely. I did not quite know, Peony, that we could make such
+a sweet little girl as this."
+
+The mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful an
+incident it would be, if fairies, or, still better, if angel-children
+were to come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings,
+and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features of
+celestial babyhood! Violet and Peony would not be aware of their
+immortal playmates--only they could see that the image grew very
+beautiful while they worked at it, and would think that they
+themselves had done it all.
+
+"My little girl and boy deserve such playmates, if mortal children
+ever did!" said the mother to herself; and then she smiled again at
+her own motherly pride.
+
+Nevertheless, the ideas seized upon her imagination; and ever and
+anon, she took a glimpse out of the window, half dreaming that she
+might see the golden-haired children of paradise sporting with her own
+golden-haired Violet and bright-cheeked Peony.
+
+Now, for a few moments, there was a busy and earnest, but indistinct
+hum of the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together
+with one happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit,
+while Peony acted rather as a labourer, and brought her the snow from
+far and near. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper
+understanding of the matter, too!
+
+"Peony, Peony!" cried Violet; for the brother was again at the other
+side of the garden. "Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have
+rested on the lower branches of the pear-tree. You can clamber on the
+snow-drift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make
+some ringlets for our snow-sister's head!"
+
+"Here they are, Violet!" answered the little boy. "Take care you do
+not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!"
+
+"Does she not look sweet?" said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;
+"and now we must have some little shining bits of ice, to make the
+brightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see how
+very beautiful she is; but papa will say, 'Tush! nonsense!--come in
+out of the cold!'"
+
+"Let us call mamma to look out," said Peony; and then he shouted
+lustily, "Mamma! mamma!! mamma!!! Look out, and see what a nice 'ittle
+girl we are making."
+
+The mother put down her work, for an instant, and looked out of the
+window. But it so happened that the sun--for this was one of the
+shortest days of the whole year--had sunken so nearly to the edge of
+the world, that his setting shine came obliquely into the lady's eyes.
+So she was dazzled, you must understand, and could not very distinctly
+observe what was in the garden. Still, however, through all that
+bright, blinding dazzle of the sun and the new snow, she beheld a
+small white figure in the garden, that seemed to have a wonderful deal
+of human likeness about it. And she saw Violet and Peony--indeed, she
+looked more at them than at the image--she saw the two children still
+at work; Peony bringing fresh snow, and Violet applying it to the
+figure as scientifically as a sculptor adds clay to his model.
+Indistinctly as she discerned the snow-child, the mother thought to
+herself that never before was there a snow-figure so cunningly made,
+nor ever such a dear little girl and boy to make it.
+
+"They do everything better than other children," said she, very
+complacently. "No wonder they make better snow-images!"
+
+She sat down again to her work, and made as much haste with it as
+possible; because twilight would soon come, and Peony's frock was not
+yet finished, and grandfather was expected, by railroad, pretty early
+in the morning. Faster and faster, therefore, went her flying fingers.
+The children, likewise, kept busily at work in the garden, and still
+the mother listened, whenever she could catch a word. She was amused
+to observe how their little imaginations had got mixed up with what
+they were doing, and were carried away by it. They seemed positively
+to think that the snow-child would run about and play with them.
+
+"What a nice playmate she will be for us, all winter long!" said
+Violet. "I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold!
+Sha'n't you love her dearly, Peony?"
+
+"O yes!" cried Peony. "And I will hug her and she shall sit down
+close by me, and drink some of my warm milk!"
+
+"O no, Peony!" answered Violet, with grave wisdom. "That will not do
+at all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister.
+Little snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no, Peony;
+we must not give her anything warm to drink!"
+
+There was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legs were
+never weary, had gone on a pilgrimage again to the other side of the
+garden. All of a sudden, Violet cried out, loudly and joyfully--
+
+"Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining on her cheek
+out of that rose-coloured cloud! and the colour does not go away! Is
+not that beautiful!"
+
+"Yes; it is beau-ti-ful," answered Peony, pronouncing the three
+syllables with deliberate accuracy. "O Violet, only look at her hair!
+It is all like gold!"
+
+"O, certainly," said Violet, with tranquillity, as if it were very
+much a matter of course. "That colour, you know, comes from the golden
+clouds, that we see up there in the sky. She is almost finished now.
+But her lips must be made very red--redder than her cheeks. Perhaps,
+Peony, it will make them red if we both kiss them!"
+
+Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both her
+children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But, as this
+did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next proposed
+that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet cheek.
+
+"Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!" cried Peony.
+
+"There! she has kissed you," added Violet, "and her lips are very red.
+And she blushed a little, too!"
+
+"O, what a cold kiss!" cried Peony.
+
+Just then, there came a breeze of the pure west-wind, sweeping
+through the garden and rattling the parlour-windows. It sounded so
+wintry cold, that the mother was about to tap on the window-pane with
+her thimbled finger, to summon the two children in, when they both
+cried out to her with one voice. The tone was not a tone of surprise,
+although they were evidently a good deal excited; it appeared rather
+as if they were very much rejoiced at some event that had now
+happened, but which they had been looking for, and had reckoned upon
+all along.
+
+"Mamma! mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, and she is
+running about the garden with us!"
+
+"What imaginative little beings my children are!" thought the mother,
+putting the last few stitches into Peony's frock. "And it is strange,
+too, that they make me almost as much a child as they themselves are!
+I can hardly help believing, now, that the snow-image has really come
+to life!"
+
+"Dear mamma!" cried Violet, "pray look out and see what a sweet
+playmate we have!"
+
+The mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look forth
+from the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving,
+however, a rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and
+golden clouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent. But
+there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the window or
+on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over the garden, and
+see everything and everybody in it. And what do you think she saw
+there? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling children. Ah,
+but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe me,
+there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with
+rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the
+garden with the two children! A stranger though she was, the child
+seemed to be on as familiar terms with Violet and Peony, and they
+with her, as if all the three had been playmates during the whole of
+their little lives. The mother thought to herself that it must
+certainly be the daughter of one of the neighbours, and that, seeing
+Violet, and Peony in the garden, the child had run across the street
+to play with them. So this kind lady went to the door, intending to
+invite the little runaway into her comfortable parlour; for, now that
+the sunshine was withdrawn, the atmosphere, out of doors, was already
+growing very cold.
+
+But, after opening the house-door, she stood an instant on the
+threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in,
+or whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted
+whether it were a real child, after all, or only a light wreath of the
+new-fallen snow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the
+intensely cold west-wind. There was certainly something very singular
+in the aspect of the little stranger. Among all the children of the
+neighbourhood, the lady could remember no such face, with its pure
+white, and delicate rose-colour, and the golden ringlets tossing about
+the forehead and cheeks. And as for her dress, which was entirely of
+white, and fluttering in the breeze, it was such as no reasonable
+woman would put upon a little girl, when sending her out to play, in
+the depth of winter. It made this kind and careful mother shiver only
+to look at those small feet, with nothing in the world on them, except
+a very thin pair of white slippers. Nevertheless, airily as she was
+clad, the child seemed to feel not the slightest inconvenience from
+the cold, but danced so lightly over the snow that the tips of her
+toes left hardly a print in its surface; while Violet could but just
+keep pace with her, and Peony's short legs compelled him to lag
+behind.
+
+Once, in the course of their play, the strange child placed herself
+between Violet and Peony, and taking a hand of each, skipped merrily
+forward, and they along with her. Almost immediately, however, Peony
+pulled away his little fist, and began to rub it as if the fingers
+were tingling with cold; while Violet also released herself, though
+with less abruptness, gravely remarking that it was better not to take
+hold of hands. The white-robed damsel said not a word, but danced
+about, just as merrily as before. If Violet and Peony did not choose
+to play with her, she could make just as good a playmate of the brisk
+and cold west-wind, which kept blowing her all about the garden, and
+took such liberties with her, that they seemed to have been friends
+for a long time. All this while, the mother stood on the threshold,
+wondering how a little girl could look so much like a flying
+snow-drift, or how a snow-drift could look so very like a little girl.
+
+She called Violet, and whispered to her.
+
+"Violet, my darling, what is this child's name?" asked she. "Does she
+live near us?"
+
+"Why, dearest mamma," answered Violet, laughing to think that her
+mother did not comprehend so very plain an affair, "this is our little
+snow-sister, whom we have just been making!"
+
+"Yes, dear mamma," cried Peony, running to his mother and looking up
+simply into her face, "This is our snow-image! Is it not a nice 'ittle
+child?"
+
+At this instant a flock of snow-birds came flitting through the air.
+As was very natural, they avoided Violet and Peony. But--and this
+looked strange--they flew at once to the white-robed child, fluttered
+eagerly about her head, alighted on her shoulders, and seemed to claim
+her as an old acquaintance. She, on her part, was evidently as glad to
+see these little birds, old Winter's grandchildren, as they were to
+see her, and welcomed them by holding out both her hands. Hereupon,
+they each and all tried to alight on her two palms and ten small
+fingers and thumbs, crowding one another off, with an immense
+fluttering of their tiny wings. One dear little bird nestled tenderly
+in her bosom; another put its bill to her lips. They were as joyous,
+all the while, and seemed as much in their element, as you may have
+seen them when sporting with a snow-storm.
+
+Violet and Peony stood laughing at this pretty sight: for they enjoyed
+the merry time which their new playmate was having with their
+small-winged visitants, almost as much as if they themselves took part
+in it.
+
+"Violet," said her mother, greatly perplexed, "tell me the truth,
+without any jest. Who is this little girl?"
+
+"My darling mamma," answered Violet, looking seriously into her
+mother's face, and apparently surprised that she should need any
+further explanation, "I have told you truly who she is. It is our
+little snow-image, which Peony and I have been making. Peony will tell
+you so, as well as I."
+
+"Yes, mamma," asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his crimson
+little phiz, "this is 'ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one? But,
+mamma, her hand, is oh, so very cold!"
+
+While mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, the
+street-gate was thrown open, and the father of Violet and Peony
+appeared, wrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn down
+over his ears, and the thickest of gloves upon his hands. Mr. Lindsey
+was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy look in his
+wind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy all the
+day long, and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyes
+brightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he could
+not help uttering a word or two of surprise, at finding the whole
+family in the open air, on so bleak a day, and after sunset too. He
+soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro in the
+garden, like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snow-birds
+fluttering about her head.
+
+"Pray, what little girl may that be?" inquired this very sensible man.
+"Surely her mother must be crazy, to let her go out in such bitter
+weather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy white gown and
+those thin slippers!"
+
+"My dear husband," said his wife, "I know no more about the little
+thing than you do. Some neighbour's child, I suppose. Our Violet and
+Peony," she added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a
+story, "insist that she is nothing but a snow-image, which they have
+been busy about in the garden, almost all the afternoon."
+
+As she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot where
+the children's snow-image had been made. What was her surprise, on
+perceiving that there was not the slightest trace of so much
+labour!--no image at all--no piled up heap of snow--nothing whatever,
+save the prints of little footsteps around a vacant space!
+
+"This is very strange!" said she.
+
+"What is strange, dear mother?" asked Violet. "Dear father, do not you
+see how it is? This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made,
+because we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?"
+
+"Yes, papa," said crimson Peony. "This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is
+she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!"
+
+"Pooh, nonsense, children!" cried their good, honest father, who, as
+we have already intimated, had an exceedingly common-sensible way of
+looking at matters. "Do not tell me of making live figures out of
+snow. Come, wife; this little stranger must not stay out in the bleak
+air a moment longer. We will bring her into the parlour; and you
+shall give her a supper of warm bread and milk, and make her as
+comfortable as you can. Meanwhile, I will inquire among the
+neighbours; or, if necessary, send the city-crier about the streets,
+to give notice of a lost child."
+
+So saying, this honest and very kind-hearted man was going toward the
+little white damsel, with the best intentions in the world. But Violet
+and Peony, each seizing their father by the hand, earnestly besought
+him not to make her come in.
+
+"Dear father," cried Violet, putting herself before him, "it is true
+what I have been telling you! This is our little snow-girl, and she
+cannot live any longer than while she breathes the cold west-wind. Do
+not make her come into the hot room!"
+
+"Yes, father," shouted Peony, stamping his little foot, so mightily
+was he in earnest, "this be nothing but our 'ittle snow-child! She
+will not love the hot fire!"
+
+"Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense!" cried the father, half
+vexed, half laughing at what he considered their foolish obstinacy.
+"Run into the house, this moment! It is too late to play any longer,
+now. I must take care of this little girl immediately, or she will
+catch her death a-cold!"
+
+"Husband! dear husband!" said his wife, in a low voice--for she had
+been looking narrowly at the snow-child, and was more perplexed than
+ever--there is something very singular in all this. "You will think me
+foolish--but--but--may it not be that some invisible angel has been
+attracted by the simplicity and good faith with which our children set
+about their undertaking? May he not have spent an hour of his
+immortality in playing with those dear little souls? and so the result
+is what we call a miracle. No, no! Do not laugh at me; I see what a
+foolish thought it is!"
+
+"My dear wife," replied the husband, laughing heartily, "you are as
+much a child as Violet and Peony."
+
+And in one sense so she was, for all through life she had kept her
+heart full of childlike simplicity and faith, which was as pure and
+clear as crystal; and, looking at all matters through this transparent
+medium, she sometimes saw truths so profound, that other people
+laughed at them as nonsense and absurdity.
+
+But now kind Mr. Lindsey had entered the garden, breaking away from
+his two children, who still sent their shrill voices after him,
+beseeching him to let the snow-child stay and enjoy herself in the
+cold west-wind. As he approached, the snow-birds took to flight. The
+little white damsel, also, fled backward, shaking her head, as if to
+say, "Pray, do not touch me!" and roguishly, as it appeared, leading
+him through the deepest of the snow. Once, the good man stumbled, and
+floundered down upon his face, so that, gathering himself up again,
+with the snow sticking to his rough pilot-cloth sack, he looked as
+white and wintry as a snow-image of the largest size. Some of the
+neighbours, meanwhile, seeing him from their windows, wondered what
+could possess poor Mr. Lindsey to be running about his garden in
+pursuit of a snow-drift, which the west-wind was driving hither and
+thither! At length, after a vast deal of trouble, he chased the little
+stranger into a corner, where she could not possibly escape him. His
+wife had been looking on, and, it being nearly twilight, was
+wonderstruck to observe how the snow-child gleamed and sparkled, and
+how she seemed to shed a glow all round about her; and when driven
+into the corner, she positively glistened like a star! It was a frosty
+kind of brightness, too like that of an icicle in the moonlight. The
+wife thought it strange that good Mr. Lindsey should see nothing
+remarkable in the snow-child's appearance.
+
+"Come, you odd little thing!" cried the honest man, seizing her by
+the hand, "I have caught you at last, and will make you comfortable in
+spite of yourself. We will put a nice warm pair of worsted stockings
+on your frozen little feet, and you shall have a good thick shawl to
+wrap yourself in. Your poor white nose, I am afraid, is actually
+frost-bitten. But we will make it all right. Come along in."
+
+And so, with a most benevolent smile on his sagacious visage, all
+purple as it was with the cold, this very well-meaning gentleman took
+the snow-child by the hand and led her towards the house. She followed
+him, droopingly and reluctant; for all the glow and sparkle was gone
+out of her figure; and whereas just before she had resembled a bright
+frosty, star-gemmed evening, with a crimson gleam on the cold horizon,
+she now looked as dull and languid as a thaw. As kind Mr. Lindsey led
+her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony looked into his
+face--their eyes full of tears, which froze before they could run down
+their cheeks--and again entreated him not to bring their snow-image
+into the house.
+
+"Not bring her in!" exclaimed the kind-hearted man. "Why, you are
+crazy, my little Violet!--quite crazy, my small Peony! She is so cold,
+already, that her hand has almost frozen mine, in spite of my thick
+gloves. Would you have her freeze to death?"
+
+His wife, as he came up the steps, had been taking another long,
+earnest, almost awe-stricken gaze at the little white stranger. She
+hardly knew whether it was a dream or not, but she could not help
+fancying that she saw the delicate print of Violet's fingers on the
+child's neck. It looked just as if, while Violet was shaping out the
+image, she had given it a gentle pat with her hand, and had neglected
+to smooth the impression quite away.
+
+"After all, husband," said the mother, recurring to her idea that the
+angels would be as much delighted to play with Violet and Peony as she
+herself was--"after all, she does look strangely like a snow-image! I
+do believe she is made of snow!"
+
+A puff of the west-wind blew against the snow-child, and again she
+sparkled like a star.
+
+"Snow!" repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest over
+this hospitable threshold. "No wonder she looks like snow. She is half
+frozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to
+rights."
+
+Without further talk, and always with the same best intentions, this
+highly benevolent and common-sensible individual led the little white
+damsel--drooping, drooping, drooping, more and more--out of the frosty
+air, and into his comfortable parlour. A Heidenberg stove, filled to
+the brim with intensely burning anthracite, was sending a bright gleam
+through the isinglass of its iron door, and causing the vase of water
+on its top to fume and bubble with excitement. A warm, sultry smell
+was diffused throughout the room. A thermometer on the wall farthest
+from the stove stood at eighty degrees. The parlour was hung with red
+curtains, and covered with a red carpet, and looked just as warm as it
+felt. The difference betwixt the atmosphere here and the cold, wintry
+twilight out of doors, was like stepping at once from Nova Zembla to
+the hottest part of India, or from the North Pole into an oven. O,
+this was a fine place for the little white stranger!
+
+The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearth-rug, right
+in front of the hissing and fuming stove.
+
+"Now she will be comfortable!" cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands
+and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. "Make
+yourself at home, my child."
+
+Sad, sad and drooping, looked the little white maiden, as she stood
+on the hearth-rug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through
+her like a pestilence. Once, she threw a glance wistfully toward the
+windows, and caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the
+snow-covered roofs, and the stars glimmering frostily, and all the
+delicious intensity of the cold night. The bleak wind rattled the
+window-panes, as if it were summoning her to come forth. But there
+stood the snow-child, drooping, before the hot stove!
+
+But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.
+
+"Come, wife," said he, "let her have a pair of thick stockings and a
+woollen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm
+supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your
+little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a
+strange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbours, and
+find out where she belongs."
+
+The mother, meanwhile, had gone in search of the shawl and stockings;
+for her own view of the matter, however subtle and delicate, had given
+way, as it always did, to the stubborn materialism of her husband.
+Without heeding the remonstrances of his two children, who still kept
+murmuring that their little snow-sister did not love the warmth, good
+Mr. Lindsey took his departure, shutting the parlour-door carefully
+behind him. Turning up the collar of his sack over his ears, he
+emerged from the house, and had barely reached the street-gate when he
+was recalled by the screams of Violet and Peony, and the rapping of a
+thimbled finger against the parlour window.
+
+"Husband! husband!" cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken face
+through the window-panes. "There is no need of going for the child's
+parents!"
+
+"We told you so, father!" screamed Violet and Peony, as he re-entered
+the parlour. "You would bring her in; and now our
+poor--dear--beau-ti-ful little snow-sister is thawed!"
+
+And their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears; so
+that their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen in
+this every-day world, felt not a little anxious lest his children
+might be going to thaw too! In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an
+explanation of his wife. She could only reply, that, being summoned to
+the parlour by the cries of Violet and Peony, she found no trace of
+the little white maiden, unless it were the remains of a heap of snow,
+which, while she was gazing at it, melted quite away upon the
+hearth-rug.
+
+"And there you see all that is left of it!" added she, pointing to a
+pool of water, in front of the stove.
+
+"Yes, father," said Violet, looking reproachfully at him, through her
+tears, "there is all that is left of our dear little snow-sister!"
+
+"Naughty father!" cried Peony, stamping his foot, and--I shudder to
+say--shaking his little fist at the common-sensible man. "We told you
+how it would be! What for did you bring her in?"
+
+And the Heidenberg stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to
+glare at good Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon, triumphing in the
+mischief which it had done!
+
+This, you will observe, was one of those rare cases, which yet will
+occasionally happen, where common-sense finds itself at fault. The
+remarkable story of the snow-image, though to that sagacious class of
+people to whom good Mr. Lindsey belongs it may seem but a childish
+affair, is, nevertheless, capable of being moralised in various
+methods, greatly for their edification. One of its lessons, for
+instance, might be that it behooves men, and especially men of
+benevolence, to consider well what they are about, and, before acting
+on their philanthropic purposes, to be quite sure that they comprehend
+the nature and all the relations of the business in hand. What has
+been established as an element of good to one being may prove absolute
+mischief to another; even as the warmth of the parlour was proper
+enough for children of flesh and blood, like Violet and Peony--though
+by no means very wholesome, even for them--involved nothing short of
+annihilation to the unfortunate snow-image.
+
+But, after all, there is no teaching anything to wise men of good Mr.
+Lindsey's stamp. They know everything--O, to be sure!--everything that
+has been, and everything that is, and everything that, by any future
+possibility, can be. And should some phenomenon of nature or
+providence transcend their system, they will not recognise it, even if
+it come to pass under their very noses.
+
+"Wife," said Mr. Lindsey, after a fit of silence, "see what a quantity
+of snow the children have brought in on their feet! It has made quite
+a puddle here before the stove. Pray tell Dora to bring some towels
+and sop it up!"
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+UNDINE
+
+
+I.--HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE
+
+Once--it may be some hundreds of years ago--there lived a good old
+Fisherman, who, on a fine summer's evening, was sitting before the
+door mending his nets. He dwelt in a land of exceeding beauty. The
+green slope, upon which he had built his hut, stretched far out into a
+great lake; and it seemed either that the cape, enamoured of the
+glassy blue waters, had pressed forward into their bosom, or that the
+lake had lovingly folded in its arms the blooming promontory, with her
+waving grass and flowers, and the refreshing shade of her tall trees.
+Each bade the other welcome, and increased its own beauty by so doing.
+This lovely nook was scarcely ever visited by mankind, except by the
+Fisherman and his family. For behind the promontory lay a very wild
+forest, which, beside being gloomy and pathless, had too bad a name as
+the resort of wondrous spirits and goblins, to be crossed by anyone
+who could help it. Yet the pious old Fisherman went through it without
+being molested, whenever he walked to a large city beyond the forest,
+to dispose of the costly fish that he caught in the lake. For him,
+indeed, there was little danger, even in that forest; for his thoughts
+were almost all thoughts of devotion, and his custom was to carol
+forth to Heaven a loud and heartfelt hymn, on first setting foot
+within the treacherous shades.
+
+As he sat this evening most peacefully over his nets, he was startled
+in an unwonted manner by a rustling sound in the forest, like that of
+a man and horse; and the noise came nearer and nearer. The dreams he
+had had in many a stormy night of the spirits of the forest started up
+before his mind, particularly the image of a gigantic long snow-white
+man, who kept nodding his head mysteriously. Nay, as he raised his
+eyes and looked into the forest, he could fancy he saw, through the
+thick screen of leaves, the nodding creature advance toward him. But
+he soon composed himself, recollecting that even in the heart of the
+woods nothing had ever befallen him; much less here, in the open air,
+could the bad spirits have power to touch him. He moreover repeated a
+text from the Bible aloud and earnestly, which quite restored his
+courage, and he almost laughed to see how his fancy had misled him.
+The white nodding man suddenly resolved himself into a little brook he
+knew of old, which gushed bubbling out of the wood, and emptied itself
+into the lake. And the rustling had been caused by a horseman in
+gorgeous attire, who now came forward toward the hut from beneath the
+trees.
+
+He wore a scarlet mantle over his purple, gold-embroidered jerkin; a
+plume of red and purple feathers waved over his gold-coloured
+barret-cap; and from his golden belt hung a glittering jewelled sword.
+The white courser which carried him was of lighter make than the
+generality of chargers, and trod so airily, that the enamelled turf
+seemed scarcely to bend under him. The aged Fisherman could not quite
+shake off his uneasiness, although he told himself that so noble a
+guest could bring him no harm, and accordingly doffed his hat
+courteously, and interrupted his work when he approached.
+
+The Knight reined in his horse, and asked whether they could both
+obtain one night's shelter.
+
+"As to your horse, good sir," answered the Fisherman, "I have no
+better stable to offer him than the shady meadow, and no provender
+but the grass which grows upon it. But you shall yourself be heartily
+welcome to my poor house, and to the best of my supper and night
+lodging."
+
+The stranger seemed quite content; he dismounted, and they helped each
+other to take off the horse's girth and saddle, after which the Knight
+let him graze on the flowery pasture, saying to his host, "Even if I
+had found you less kind and hospitable, my good old man, you must have
+borne with me till to-morrow; for I see we are shut in by a wide lake
+and Heaven forbid that I should cross the haunted forest again at
+nightfall!"
+
+"We will not say much about that," replied the Fisherman; and he led
+his guest into the cottage.
+
+There, close by the hearth, from whence a scanty fire shed its
+glimmering light over the clean little room, sat the Fisherman's old
+wife. When their noble guest came in, she rose to give him a kind
+welcome, but immediately resumed her place of honour, without offering
+it to him; and the Fisherman said with a smile: "Do not take it amiss,
+young sir, if she does not give up to you the most comfortable place;
+it is the custom among us poor people that it should always belong to
+the oldest."
+
+"Why, husband!" said his wife, quietly, "what are you thinking of? Our
+guest is surely a Christian gentleman, and how could it come into his
+kind young heart to turn old people out of their places? Sit down, my
+young lord," added she, turning to the Knight; "there stands a very
+comfortable chair for you; only remember it must not be too roughly
+handled, for one leg is not so steady as it has been." The Knight drew
+the chair carefully forward, seated himself sociably, and soon felt
+quite at home in this little household, and as if he had just returned
+to it from a far journey.
+
+The three friends began to converse openly and familiarly together.
+First the Knight asked a few questions about the forest, but the old
+man would not say much of that; least of all, said he, was it fitting
+to talk of such things at nightfall; but, on household concerns, and
+their own way of life, the old folks talked readily; and were pleased
+when the Knight told them of his travels, and that he had a castle
+near the source of the Danube, and that his name was Lord Huldbrand of
+Ringstetten. In the middle of their discourse, the stranger often
+observed a noise outside a small window, as if someone were dashing
+water against it. The old man knit his brows and looked grave whenever
+this occurred; at last, when a great splash of water came full against
+the panes, and some found its way into the room, he could bear it no
+longer, but started up, crying, "Undine! will you never leave off
+these childish tricks--when we have a stranger gentleman in the house
+too!" This produced silence outside, all but a sound of suppressed
+giggling, and the Fisherman said as he came back; "My honoured guest,
+you must put up with this, and perhaps with many another piece of
+mischief; but she means no harm. It is our adopted child Undine; there
+is no breaking her of her childish ways, though she is eighteen years
+old now. But as I told you she is as good a child as ever lived at
+bottom."
+
+"Ay, so you may say!" rejoined his wife, shaking her head. "When you
+come home from fishing, or from a journey, her playful nonsense may be
+pleasant enough. But, to be keeping her out of mischief all day long,
+as I must do, and never get a word of sense from her, nor a bit of
+help and comfort in my old age, is enough to weary the patience of a
+saint."
+
+"Well, well," said the good man, "you feel toward Undine as I do
+toward the lake. Though its waves are apt enough to burst my banks
+and my nets, yet I love them for all that, and so do you love our
+pretty wench, with all her plaguey tricks. Don't you?"
+
+"Why, one cannot be really angry with her, to be sure," said the dame,
+smiling.
+
+Here the door flew open, and a beautiful fair creature tripped in, and
+said, playfully: "Well, father, you made game of me; where is your
+guest?" The next moment she perceived the Knight, and stood fixed in
+mute admiration; while Huldbrand gazed upon her lovely form, and tried
+to impress her image on his mind, thinking that he must avail himself
+of her amazement to do so, and that in a moment she would shrink away
+in a fit of bashfulness. But it proved otherwise. After looking at him
+a good while, she came up to him familiarly, knelt down beside him,
+and playing with a golden medal that hung from his rich chain, she
+said: "So, thou kind, thou beautiful guest! hast thou found us out in
+our poor hut at last? Why didst thou roam the world so many years
+without coming near us? Art come through the wild forest, my handsome
+friend?" The old woman allowed him no time to answer. She desired her
+to get up instantly, like a modest girl, and to set about her work.
+But Undine, without replying, fetched a footstool and put it close to
+Huldbrand's chair, sat down there with her spinning, and said
+cheerfully--"I will sit and work here." The old man behaved as parents
+are apt to do with spoiled children. He pretended not to see Undine's
+waywardness, and was beginning to talk of something else; but she
+would not let him. She said, "I asked our visitor where he came from,
+and he has not answered me yet."
+
+"From the forest I came, you beautiful sprite," answered Huldbrand;
+and she continued:
+
+"Then you must tell me how you came there, and what wonderful
+adventures you had in it, for I know that nobody can escape without
+some."
+
+Huldbrand could not help shuddering on being reminded of his
+adventures, and involuntarily glanced at the window, half expecting to
+see one of the strange beings he had encountered in the forest
+grinning at him through it; but nothing was to be seen except the deep
+black night, which had now closed in. He recollected himself, and was
+just beginning his narrative, when the old man interposed: "Not just
+now, Sir Knight; this is no time for such tales."
+
+But Undine jumped up passionately, put her beautiful arms akimbo, and
+standing before the Fisherman, exclaimed: "What! may not he tell his
+story, father--may not he? But I will have it; he must. He shall
+indeed!" And she stamped angrily with her pretty feet, but it was all
+done in so comical and graceful a manner, that Huldbrand thought her
+still more bewitching in her wrath, than in her playful mood.
+
+Not so the old man; his long-restrained anger burst out uncontrolled.
+He scolded Undine smartly for her disobedience, and unmannerly conduct
+to the stranger, his wife chiming in.
+
+Undine then said: "Very well, if you will be quarrelsome and not let
+me have my own way, you may sleep alone in your smoky old hut!" and
+she shot through the door like an arrow, and rushed into the dark
+night.
+
+
+II.--HOW UNDINE FIRST CAME TO THE FISHERMAN
+
+Huldbrand and the Fisherman sprang from their seats, and tried to
+catch the angry maiden; but before they could reach the house door,
+Undine had vanished far into the thick shades, and not a sound of her
+light footsteps was to be heard, by which to track her course.
+Huldbrand looked doubtfully at his host; he almost thought that the
+whole fair vision which had so suddenly plunged into the night, must
+be a continuation of the phantom play which had whirled around him in
+his passage through the forest. But the old man mumbled through his
+teeth: "It is not the first time she has served us so. And here are
+we, left in our anxiety with a sleepless night before us; for who can
+tell what harm may befall her, all alone out-of-doors till daybreak?"
+
+"Then let us be after her, good father, for God's sake!" cried
+Huldbrand eagerly.
+
+The old man replied, "Where would be the use? It were a sin to let you
+set off alone in pursuit of the foolish girl, and my old legs would
+never overtake such a Will-with-the-wisp--even if we could guess which
+way she is gone."
+
+"At least let us call her, and beg her to come back," said Huldbrand;
+and he began calling after her in most moving tones: "Undine! O
+Undine, do return!"
+
+The old man shook his head, and said that all the shouting in the
+world would do no good with such a wilful little thing. But yet he
+could not himself help calling out from time to time in the darkness:
+"Undine! ah, sweet Undine! I entreat thee, come back this once."
+
+The Fisherman's words proved true. Nothing was to be seen or heard of
+Undine; and as her foster-father would by no means suffer Huldbrand to
+pursue her, they had nothing for it but to go in again. They found the
+fire on the hearth nearly burnt out, and the dame, who did not take to
+heart Undine's flight and danger so much as her husband, was gone to
+bed. The old man blew the coals, laid on dry wood, and by the light of
+the reviving flames he found a flagon of wine, which he put between
+himself and his guest. "You are uneasy about that silly wench, Sir
+Knight," said he, "and we had better kill part of the night chatting
+and drinking, than toss about in our beds, trying to sleep in vain.
+Had not we?"
+
+Huldbrand agreed; the Fisherman made him sit in his wife's empty
+arm-chair, and they both drank and talked together, as a couple of
+worthy friends should do. Whenever, indeed, there was the least stir
+outside the window, or even sometimes without any, one of them would
+look up and say, "There she comes." Then they would keep silence for a
+few moments, and as nothing came, resume their conversation, with a
+shake of the head and a sigh.
+
+But as neither could think of much beside Undine, the best means they
+could devise for beguiling the time was, that the Fisherman should
+relate, and the Knight listen to, the history of her first coming to
+the cottage. He began as follows:
+
+"One day, some fifteen years ago, I was carrying my fish through that
+dreary wood to the town. My wife stayed at home, as usual; and at that
+time she had a good and pretty reason for it--the Lord had bestowed
+upon us (old as we already were) a lovely babe. It was a girl; and so
+anxious were we to do our best for the little treasure, that we began
+to talk of leaving our beautiful home, in order to give our darling a
+good education among other human beings. With us poor folks, wishing
+is one thing, and doing is quite another, Sir Knight; but what then?
+we can only try our best. Well then, as I plodded on, I turned over
+the scheme in my head. I was loath to leave our own dear nook, and it
+made me shudder to think, in the din and brawls of the town, 'So it is
+here we shall soon live, or in some place nearly as bad!' Yet I never
+murmured against our good God, but rather thanked Him in secret for
+His last blessing; nor can I say that I met with anything
+extraordinary in the forest, either coming or going; indeed nothing to
+frighten me has ever crossed my path. The Lord was ever with me in the
+awful shades."
+
+Here he uncovered his bald head, and sat for a time in silent prayer;
+then putting his cap on again, he continued: "On this side of the wood
+it was--on this side, that the sad news met me. My wife came toward me
+with eyes streaming like two fountains; she was in deep mourning. 'Oh,
+good Heaven!' I called out, 'where is our dear child? Tell me?'
+
+"'Gone, dear husband,' she replied; and we went into our cottage
+together, weeping silently. I looked for the little corpse, and then
+first heard how it had happened. My wife had been sitting on the shore
+with the child, and playing with it, all peace and happiness; when the
+babe all at once leaned over, as if she saw something most beautiful
+in the water; there she sat smiling, sweet angel! and stretching out
+her little hands; but the next moment she darted suddenly out of her
+arms, and down into the smooth waters. I made much search for the poor
+little corpse; but in vain; not a trace of her could I find.
+
+"When evening was come, we childless parents were sitting together in
+the hut, silent; neither of us had a mind to speak, even if the tears
+had let us. We were looking idly into the fire. Just then something
+made a noise at the door. It opened, and a beautiful little maid, of
+three or four years' old stood there gaily dressed, and smiling in our
+faces. We were struck dumb with surprise, and at first hardly knew if
+she were a little human being, or only an empty shadow. But I soon saw
+that her golden hair and gay clothes were dripping wet, and it struck
+me the little fairy must have been in the water and distressed for
+help. 'Wife,' said I, 'our dear child had no friend to save her; shall
+we not do for others what would have made our remaining days so happy,
+if anyone had done it for us?' We undressed the child, put her to bed,
+and gave her a warm drink, while she never said a word, but kept
+smiling at us with her sky-blue eyes.
+
+"The next morning we found she had done herself no harm; and I asked
+her who were her parents, and what had brought her here; but she gave
+me a strange, confused answer. I am sure she must have been born far
+away, for these fifteen years have we kept her, without ever finding
+out where she came from; and besides, she is apt to let drop such
+marvellous things in her talk, that you might think she had lived in
+the moon. She will speak of golden castles, of crystal roofs, and I
+can't tell what beside. The only thing she has told us clearly, is,
+that as she was sailing on the lake with her mother, she fell into the
+water, and when she recovered her senses found herself lying under
+these trees, in safety and comfort, upon our pretty shore.
+
+"So now we had a serious, anxious charge thrown upon us. To keep
+and bring up the foundling, instead of our poor drowned child--that
+was soon resolved upon but who should tell us if she had yet been
+baptised or no? She knew how not how to answer the question. That she
+was one of God's creatures, made for His glory and service, that much
+she knew; and anything that would glorify and please Him, she was
+willing to have done. So my wife and I said to each other: 'If she has
+never been baptised, there is no doubt it should be done; and if she
+was, better do too much than too little, in a matter of such
+consequence.' We therefore began to seek a good name for the child.
+Dorothea seemed to us the best; for I had once heard that meant God's
+gift; and she had indeed been sent us by Him as a special blessing, to
+comfort us in our misery. But she would not hear of that name. She
+said Undine was what her parents used to call her, and Undine she
+would still be. That, I thought, sounded like a heathen name, and
+occurred in no Calendar; and I took counsel with a priest in the town
+about it. He also objected to the name Undine; and at my earnest
+request, came home with me, through the dark forest, in order to
+baptise her. The little creature stood before us, looking so gay and
+charming in her holiday clothes, that the priest's heart warmed toward
+her; and what with coaxing and wilfulness, she got the better of him,
+so that he clean forgot all the objections he had thought of to the
+name Undine. She was therefore so christened and behaved particularly
+well and decently during the sacred rite, wild and unruly as she had
+always been before. For, what my wife said just now was too true--we
+have indeed found her the wildest little fairy! If I were to tell you
+all--"
+
+Here the Knight interrupted the Fisherman, to call his attention to a
+sound of roaring waters, which he had noticed already in the pauses of
+the old man's speech, and which now rose in fury as it rushed past the
+windows. They both ran to the door. By the light of the newly risen
+moon, they saw the brook which gushed out of the forest breaking
+wildly over its banks, and whirling along stones and branches in its
+eddying course. A storm, as if awakened by the uproar, burst from the
+heavy clouds that were chasing each other across the moon; the lake
+howled under the wings of the wind; the trees on the shore groaned
+from top to bottom, and bowed themselves over the rushing waters.
+"Undine! for God's sake, Undine!" cried the Knight, and the old man.
+No answer was to be heard; and, heedless now of any danger to
+themselves, they ran off in different directions, calling her in
+frantic anxiety.
+
+
+III.--HOW THEY FOUND UNDINE AGAIN
+
+The longer Huldbrand wandered in vain pursuit of Undine, the more
+bewildered he became. The idea that she might be a mere spirit of the
+woods, sometimes returned upon him with double force; nay, amid the
+howling waves and storm, the groaning of trees, and the wild commotion
+of the once-peaceful spot, he might have fancied the whole promontory,
+its hut and its inhabitants, to be a delusion of magic, but that he
+still heard in the distance the Fisherman's piteous cries of "Undine!"
+and the old housewife's loud prayers and hymns, above the whistling of
+the blast.
+
+At last he found himself on the margin of the overflowing stream, and
+saw it by the moonlight rushing violently along, close to the edge of
+the mysterious forest so as to make an island of the peninsula on
+which he stood. "Gracious Heaven!" thought he, "Undine may have
+ventured a step or two into that awful forest--perhaps in her pretty
+waywardness, just because I would not tell her my story--and the
+swollen stream has cut her off, and left her weeping alone among the
+spectres!" A cry of terror escaped him, and he clambered down the bank
+by means of some stones and fallen trees, hoping to wade or swim
+across the flood, and seek the fugitive beyond it. Fearful and
+unearthly visions did indeed float before him, like those he had met
+with in the morning, beneath these groaning, tossing branches.
+Especially he was haunted by the appearance of a tall white man, whom
+he remembered but too well, grinning and nodding at him from the
+opposite bank; however, the thought of these grim monsters did but
+urge him onward as he recollected Undine, now perhaps in deadly fear
+among them, and alone.
+
+He had laid hold of a stout pine branch, and leaning on it, was
+standing in the eddy, though scarcely able to stem it, but he stepped
+boldly forward--when a sweet voice exclaimed close behind him: "Trust
+him not--trust not! The old fellow is tricksy--the stream!"
+
+Well he knew those silver tones: the moon was just disappearing behind
+a cloud, and he stood amid the deepening shades, made dizzy as the
+water shot by him with the speed of an arrow. Yet he would not desist.
+"And if thou art not truly there, if thou flittest before me an empty
+shadow, I care not to live; I will melt into air like thee, my beloved
+Undine!" This he cried aloud, and strode further into the flood.
+
+"Look round then--look round, fair youth!" he heard just behind him,
+and looking round, he beheld by the returning moonbeams, on a fair
+island left by the flood, under some thickly interlaced branches,
+Undine all smiles and loveliness, nestling in the flowery grass. How
+much more joyfully than before did the young man use his pine staff to
+cross the waters! A few strides brought him through the flood that had
+parted them; and he found himself at her side, on the nook of soft
+grass, securely sheltered under the shade of the old trees. Undine
+half arose, and twined her arms round his neck in the green arbour,
+making him sit down by her on the turf. "Here you shall tell me all,
+my own friend," said she in a low whisper; "the cross old folks cannot
+overhear us. And our pretty bower of leaves is well worth their
+wretched hut."
+
+"This is heaven!" cried Huldbrand, as he clasped in his arms the
+beautiful flatterer.
+
+Meantime the old man had reached the banks of the stream, and he
+called out: "So, Sir Knight, when I had made you welcome, as one
+honest man should another, here are you making love to my adopted
+child--to say nothing of your leaving me to seek her, alone and
+terrified, all night."
+
+"I have but this moment found her, old man!" cried the Knight in
+reply.
+
+"Well, I am glad of that," said the Fisherman; "now then bring her
+back to me at once."
+
+But Undine would not hear of it. She had rather she said, go quite
+away into the wild woods with the handsome stranger, than return to
+the hut, where she had never had her own way, and which the Knight
+must sooner or later leave. Embracing Huldbrand, she sang with
+peculiar charm and grace:
+
+"From misty cave the mountain wave
+  Leapt out and sought the main!
+The Ocean's foam she made her home,
+  And ne'er returned again."
+
+The old man wept bitterly as she sang, but this did not seem to move
+her. She continued to caress her lover, till at length he said:
+"Undine, the poor old man's grief goes to my heart if not to yours.
+Let us go back to him."
+
+Astonished, she raised her large blue eyes toward him, and after a
+pause answered slowly and reluctantly: "To please you, I will:
+whatever you like pleases me too. But the old man yonder must first
+promise me that he will let you tell me all you saw in the forest, and
+the rest we shall see about."
+
+"Only come back--do come!" cried the Fisherman, and not another word
+could he say. At the same moment he stretched his arms over the stream
+toward her, and nodded his head by way of giving her the desired
+promise; and as his white hair fell over his face, it gave him a
+strange look, and reminded Huldbrand involuntarily of the nodding
+white man in the woods. Determined, however, that nothing should stop
+him, the young Knight took the fair damsel in his arms, and carried
+her through the short space of foaming flood, which divided the island
+from the mainland. The old man fell upon Undine's neck, and rejoiced,
+and kissed her in the fulness of his heart; his aged wife also came
+up, and welcomed their recovered child most warmly. All reproaches
+were forgotten; the more so, as Undine seemed to have left her
+sauciness behind, and overwhelmed her foster parents with kind words
+and caresses.
+
+When these transports of joy had subsided, and they began to look
+about them, the rosy dawn was just shedding its glow over the lake,
+the storm had ceased, and the birds were singing merrily on the wet
+branches. As Undine insisted upon hearing the story of the Knight's
+adventure, both the old folks cheerfully indulged her. Breakfast was
+set out under the trees between the cottage and the lake, and they sat
+down before it with glad hearts, Undine placing herself resolutely on
+the grass at the Knight's feet. Huldbrand began his narrative as
+follows.
+
+
+IV.--OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE KNIGHT IN THE FOREST
+
+"About eight days ago, I rode into the imperial city beyond this
+forest. A grand tournament and tilting was held there, and I spared
+neither lance nor steed. As I stood still a moment to rest myself, in
+a pause of the noble game, and had just given my helmet in charge to a
+squire, my eye fell upon a most beautiful woman, who stood, richly
+adorned, in one of the galleries, looking on. I inquired her name,
+and found that this charming lady was Bertalda, the adopted daughter
+of one of the principal lords in the neighbourhood. I observed that
+her eye was upon me too, and as is the way with us young knights, I
+had not been slack before, but I now fought more bravely still. That
+evening I was Bertalda's partner in the dance, and so I was again
+every evening during the jousting."
+
+Here a sudden pain in his left hand, which hung beside him, checked
+the Knight in his tale, and he looked at his hand. Undine's pearly
+teeth had bitten one of his fingers sharply, and she looked very black
+at him. But the next moment that look changed into an expression of
+tender sadness, and she whispered low: "So you are faithless too!"
+Then she hid her face in her hands, and the Knight proceeded with his
+tale, although staggered and perplexed.
+
+"That Bertalda is a high-spirited, extraordinary maid. On the second
+day she charmed me far less than the first, and on the third, less
+still. But I remained with her, because she was more gracious to me
+than to any other knight, and so it fell out that I asked her in jest
+for one of her gloves. 'You shall have it,' said she, 'if you will
+visit the haunted forest alone, and bring me an account of it.' It was
+not that I cared much for her glove, but the words had been spoken,
+and a knight that loves his fame does not wait to be twice urged to
+such a feat."
+
+"I thought she had loved you," interrupted Undine.
+
+"It looked like it," he replied.
+
+"Well," cried the maiden, laughing, "she must be a fool indeed! To
+drive _him_ away whom she loves! and into a haunted forest besides!
+The forest and its mysteries might have waited long enough, for me."
+
+"I set out yesterday morning," continued the Knight, smiling kindly at
+Undine. "The stems of the trees looked so bright in the morning
+sunshine, as it played upon the green turf, and the leaves whispered
+together so pleasantly, that I could not but laugh at those who
+imagined any evil to lurk in such a beautiful place. I shall very soon
+have ridden through it and back again, thought I, pushing on cheerily,
+and before I was aware of it, I found myself in the depths of its
+leafy shades, and the plains behind me far out of sight. It then
+occurred to me that I was likely enough to lose my way in this
+wilderness of trees, and that this might be the only real danger to
+which the traveller was here exposed. So I halted, and took notice of
+the course of the sun; it was now high in the heavens.
+
+"On looking up, I saw something black among the boughs of a tall oak.
+I took it for a bear, and seized my rifle; but it addressed me in a
+human voice, most hoarse and grating, saying: 'If I did not break off
+the twigs up here, what should we do to-night for fuel to roast you
+with, Sir Simpleton?' And he gnashed his teeth, and rattled the
+boughs, so as to startle my horse, which ran away with me before I
+could make out what kind of a devil it was."
+
+"You should not mention _his_ name," said the Fisherman, crossing
+himself; his wife silently did the same, while Undine turned her
+beaming eyes upon her lover, and said--
+
+"He is safe now; it is well they did not really roast him. Go on,
+pretty youth."
+
+He continued: "My terrified horse had almost dashed me against many a
+trunk and branch; he was running down with fright and heat, and yet
+there was no stopping him. At length he rushed madly toward the brink
+of a stony precipice; but here, as it seemed to me, a tall white man
+threw himself across the plunging animal's path, and made him start
+back, and stop. I then recovered the control of him, and found that,
+instead of a white man, my preserver was no other than a bright
+silvery brook, which gushed down from the hill beside me, checking and
+crossing my horse in his course."
+
+"Thanks, dear brook!" cried Undine, clapping her hands. But the old
+man shook his head, and seemed lost in thought.
+
+"Scarcely had I settled myself in the saddle, and got firm hold of my
+reins again," proceeded Huldbrand, "when an extraordinary little man
+sprang up beside me, wizen and hideous beyond measure; he was of a
+yellow-brown hue, and his nose almost as big as the whole of his body.
+He grinned at me in the most fulsome way with his wide mouth, bowing
+and scraping every moment. As I could not abide these antics, I
+thanked him abruptly, pulled my still-trembling horse another way, and
+thought I would seek some other adventure, or perhaps go home; for
+during my wild gallop the sun had passed his meridian, and was now
+declining westward. But the little imp sprang round like lightning,
+and stood in front of my horse again.
+
+"'Make way!' cried I impatiently, 'the animal is unruly, and may run
+over you.'
+
+"'Oh,' snarled the imp, with a laugh more disgusting than before,
+'first give me a piece of coin for having caught your horse so nicely;
+but for me, you and your pretty beast would be lying in the pit down
+yonder: whew!'
+
+"'Only have done with your grimaces,' said I, 'and take your money
+along with you, though it is all a lie: look there, it was that honest
+brook that saved me, not you--you pitiful wretch!' So saying, I
+dropped a gold coin into his comical cap, which he held out toward me
+like a beggar.
+
+"I trotted on, but he still followed, screaming, and, with
+inconceivable rapidity, whisked up to my side. I put my horse into a
+gallop; he kept pace with me, though with much difficulty, and twisted
+his body into various frightful and ridiculous attitudes, crying at
+each step as he held up the money: 'Bad coin! bad gold! bad gold! bad
+coin!' And this he shrieked in such a ghastly tone, that you would
+have expected him to drop down dead after each cry.
+
+"At last I stopped, much vexed, and asked, 'What do you want, with
+your shrieks? Take another gold coin; take two if you will, only let
+me alone.'
+
+"He began his odious smirking again, and snarled, 'It's not gold, it's
+not gold that I want, young gentleman; I have rather more of that than
+I can use: you shall see.'
+
+"All at once the surface of the ground became transparent; it looked
+like a smooth globe of green glass, and within it I saw a crowd of
+goblins at play with silver and gold. Tumbling about, head over heels
+they pelted each other in sport, making a toy of the precious metals,
+and powdering their faces with gold dust. My ugly companion stood half
+above, half below the surface; he made the others reach up to him
+quantities of gold, and showed it to me laughing, and then flung it
+into the fathomless depths beneath. He displayed the piece of gold I
+had given him to the goblins below, who held their sides with laughing
+and hissed at me in scorn. At length all their bony fingers pointed at
+me together; and louder and louder, closer and closer, wilder and
+wilder grew the turmoil, as it rose toward me, till not my horse only,
+but I myself was terrified; I put spurs into him, and cannot tell how
+long I may have scoured the forest this time.
+
+"When at last I halted, the shades of evening had closed in. Through
+the branches I saw a white footpath gleaming and hoped it must be a
+road out of the forest to the town. I resolved to work my way thither;
+but lo! an indistinct, dead-white face, with ever-changing features,
+peeped at me through the leaves; I tried to avoid it, but wherever I
+went, there it was. Provoked, I attempted to push my horse against
+it; then it splashed us both over with white foam, and we turned away,
+blinded for the moment. So it drove us, step by step, further and
+further from the footpath, and indeed never letting us go on
+undisturbed but in one direction. While we kept to this, it was close
+upon our heels, but did not thwart us. Having looked round once or
+twice, I observed that the white foaming head was placed on a gigantic
+body, equally white. I sometimes doubted my first impression, and
+thought it merely a waterfall, but I never could satisfy myself that
+it was so. Wearily did my horse and I precede this active white
+pursuer, who often nodded at us, as if saying, 'That's right! that's
+right!' and it ended by our issuing from the wood here, where I
+rejoiced to see your lawn, the lake, and this cottage, and where the
+long white man vanished."
+
+"Thank Heaven, he is gone," said the old man, and he then proceeded to
+consider how his guest could best return to his friends in the city.
+Upon this, Undine was heard to laugh in a whisper.
+
+Huldbrand observed it, and said: "I thought you had wished me to stay;
+and now you seem pleased when we talk of my going?"
+
+"Because," replied Undine, "you cannot get away. Only try to cross the
+swollen brook, in a boat, on horseback, or on foot. Or rather, do not
+try, for you would be dashed to pieces by the branches and stones that
+it hurls along. And as to the lake, I know how that is: father never
+ventures across it in his boat."
+
+Huldbrand laughed, and got up to see whether she had spoken true; the
+old man went with him, and the maiden tripped along playfully by their
+side. They found she had told them no worse than the truth and the
+Knight resigned himself to staying in the island, as it might now be
+called till the floods had subsided. As they returned homeward, he
+whispered in his pretty companion's ear--"Well, my little Undine! are
+you angry at my staying?"
+
+"Ah," said she sullenly, "never mind. If I had not bitten you, who
+knows what might have come out in your story of Bertalda?"
+
+
+V.--OF THE LIFE WHICH THE KNIGHT LED ON THE ISLAND
+
+Has it ever befallen thee, gentle reader, after many ups and downs in
+this troublesome world, to alight upon a spot where thou foundest
+rest; where the love which is born with us for fireside comfort and
+domestic peace, revived in thee; where thou couldst fancy thy early
+home with the blossoms of childhood, its pure, heartfelt affection,
+and the holy influence breathed from thy fathers' graves, to be
+restored to thee--and that it must indeed be "good for thee to be
+here, and to build tabernacles?" The charm may have been broken, the
+dream dispelled; but that has nothing to do with our present picture;
+nor wilt thou care to dwell on such bitter moments; but recall to mind
+that period of unspeakable peace, that foretaste of angelic rest which
+was granted thee, and thou wilt partly conceive what the Knight
+Huldbrand felt, while he lived on the promontory. Often, with secret
+satisfaction, did he mark the forest stream rolling by more wildly
+every day; its bed became wider and wider, and he felt the period of
+his seclusion from the world must be still prolonged. Having found an
+old crossbow in a corner of the cottage, and mended it, he spent part
+of his days roving about, waylaying the birds that flew by, and
+bringing whatever he killed to the kitchen, as rare game. When he came
+back laden with spoil, Undine would often scold him for taking the
+life of the dear little joyous creatures, soaring in the blue depths
+of Heaven; she would even weep bitterly over the dead birds. But if he
+came home empty-handed, she found fault with his awkwardness and
+laziness, which obliged them to be content with fish and crabs for
+dinner. Either way, he took delight in her pretty fits of anger; the
+more so as she rarely failed to make up for them by the fondest
+caresses afterwards. The old folks, having been in the young people's
+confidence from the first, unconsciously looked upon them as a
+betrothed or even married pair, shut out from the world with them in
+this retreat, and bestowed upon them for comforts in their old age.
+And this very seclusion helped to make the young Knight feel as if he
+were already Undine's bridegroom. It seemed to him that the whole
+world was contained within the surrounding waters, or at any rate,
+that he could never more cross that charmed boundary, and rejoin other
+human beings. And if at times the neighing of his steed reminded him
+of former feats of chivalry, and seemed to ask for more; if his coat
+of arms, embroidered on the saddle and trappings, caught his eye; or
+if his good sword fell from the nail on which he had hung it and
+slipped out of its scabbard, he would silence the misgivings that
+arose, by thinking, Undine is not a fisherman's daughter, but most
+likely sprung from some highly noble family in distant lands. The only
+thing that ever ruffled him, was to hear the old woman scolding
+Undine. The wayward girl only laughed at her; but to him it seemed as
+if his own honour were touched; and yet he could not blame the good
+wife, for Undine mostly deserved ten times worse than she got,
+therefore he still felt kindly toward the old dame, and these little
+rubs scarcely disturbed the even current of their lives.
+
+At length, however, a grievance did arise. The Knight and the
+Fisherman were in the habit of sitting cheerfully over a flask of
+wine, both at noon, and also at eventide while the wind whistled
+around, as it generally did at night. But they had now exhausted the
+whole stock which the Fisherman had, long since, brought from the town
+with him and they both missed it sadly. Undine laughed at them all day
+for it, but they could not join in her mirth as heartily as usual.
+Toward evening she left the cottage, saying she could no longer bear
+such long dismal faces. As the twilight looked stormy, and the waters
+were beginning to moan and heave, the Knight and the old man ran out
+anxiously to fetch her back, remembering the agony of that night when
+Huldbrand first came to the cottage. But they were met by Undine,
+clapping her hands merrily. "What will you give me if I get you some
+wine? But, indeed, I want no reward for it," she added; "I shall be
+satisfied if you will but look brighter, and find more to say than you
+have done all these tedious mornings. Come along; the floods have
+washed a barrel ashore, and I will engage to sleep a whole week
+through if it is not a barrel of wine!"
+
+The men both followed her to a shady creek, and there found a barrel,
+which did look as if it contained the generous liquor which they
+longed for. They rolled it toward the hut as fast as they could, for a
+heavy storm seemed stalking across the sky, and there was light enough
+left to show them the waves of the lake tossing up their foaming
+heads, as if looking out for the rain which would soon pour down upon
+them. Undine lent a hand in the work, and presently, when the shower
+threatened to break instantly over their heads, she spoke to the big
+clouds in playful defiance: "You, you there! mind you do not give us a
+drenching; we are some way from home yet." The old man admonished her
+that this was sinful presumption, but she laughed slyly to herself,
+and no harm came of it. Beyond their hopes, they all three reached the
+comfortable fireside with their prize, unhurt; and it was not till
+they had opened the barrel, and found it to contain excellent wine,
+that the rain broke from the heavy clouds in torrents, and they heard
+the storm roaring among the trees, and over the lake's heaving
+billows.
+
+A few bottles were soon filled from the great barrel, enough to last
+them several days; and they sat sipping and chatting over the bright
+fire, secure from the raging tempest. But the old man's heart
+presently smote him. "Dear me," said he, "here are we making merry
+over the blessing of Providence, while the owner of it has perhaps
+been carried away by the flood, and lost his life!"--"No, that he has
+not," said Undine, smiling; and she filled the Knight's glass again.
+He replied, "I give you my word, good father, that if I knew how to
+find and save him, no danger should deter me; I would not shrink from
+setting out in this darkness. This much I promise you, if ever I set
+foot in an inhabited country again, I will make inquiry after him or
+his heirs, and restore to them twice or three times the value of the
+wine." This pleased the old man, he gave an approving nod to the
+Knight, and drained his glass with a better conscience and a lighter
+heart. But Undine said to Huldbrand, "Do as you like with your money,
+you may make what compensation you please; but as to setting out and
+wandering after him, that was hastily said. I should cry my heart out
+if we chanced to lose you; and had not you rather stay with me and
+with the good wine?" "Why, yes!" said Huldbrand, laughing. "Well
+then," rejoined Undine, "it was a foolish thing you talked of doing;
+charity begins at home, you know." The old woman turned away, shaking
+her head and sighing; her husband forgot his usual indulgence for the
+pretty lassie, and reproved her sharply. "One would think," said he,
+"you had been reared by Turks and heathens; God forgive you and us,
+you perverse child."--"Ay but it _is_ my way of thinking," pursued
+Undine, "whoever has reared me, so what is the use of your
+talking?"--"Peace!" cried the Fisherman; and she, who with all her
+wildness was sometimes cowed in a moment, clung trembling to
+Huldbrand, and whispered, "And are you angry with me, dear friend?"
+The Knight pressed her soft hand, and stroked down her ringlets. Not a
+word could he say; his distress at the old man's harshness toward
+Undine had sealed his lips; and so each couple remained sitting
+opposite the other, in moody silence and constraint.
+
+
+VI.--OF A BRIDAL
+
+A gentle tap at the door broke the silence, and made them all start:
+it sometimes happens that a mere trifle, coming quite unexpectedly,
+strikes the senses with terror. They looked at each other hesitating;
+the tap was repeated, accompanied by a deep groan, and the Knight
+grasped his sword. But the old man muttered, "If it is what I fear, it
+is not a sword that will help us!" Undine, however, stepped forward to
+the door, and said boldly and sharply, "If you are after any mischief,
+you spirits of earth, Kuehleborn shall teach you manners."
+
+The terror of the others increased at these strange words; they looked
+at the maiden with awe, and Huldbrand was just mustering courage to
+ask her a question, when a voice answered her from without: "I am no
+spirit of earth; call me, if you will, a spirit pent in mortal clay.
+If you fear God, and will be charitable, you dwellers in the cottage,
+open the door to me." Undine opened it before he had done speaking,
+and held out a lamp into the stormy night, so as to show them the
+figure of an aged Priest, who started back as the radiant beauty of
+Undine flashed upon his sight. Well might he suspect magic and
+witchery, when so bright a vision shone out of a mean-looking cottage;
+he accordingly began a canticle, "All good spirits give praise to the
+Lord!"
+
+"I am no ghost," said Undine, smiling; "am I so frightful to behold?
+And you may see that a pious saying has no terrors for me. I worship
+God, too, and praise Him after my own fashion; He has not created us
+all alike. Come in, venerable father; you will find worthy folks
+here."
+
+The holy man walked in, bowing and casting his eyes around, and
+looking most mild and venerable. Every fold of his dark garment was
+dripping with water, and so were his long white beard and hoary locks.
+The Fisherman and the Knight led him to a bedroom, and gave him change
+of clothing, while the women dried his wet garments by the hearth
+fire. The aged stranger thanked them with all humility and gentleness,
+but would by no means accept of the Knight's splendid mantle, which he
+offered him; he chose himself an old gray wrapper of the Fisherman's
+instead. So they returned to the kitchen; the dame up gave her own
+arm-chair to the Priest, and had no peace till he sat himself down on
+it: "For," said she, "you are old and weary, and a priest besides."
+Undine pushed her little footstool toward the good man's feet, and
+altogether behaved to him quite properly and gracefully. Huldbrand
+took notice of this, in a playful whisper; but she answered very
+gravely: "Because he is a servant of the Maker of us all; that is too
+serious for a jest."
+
+Meantime the two men set meat and wine before their guest, and when he
+had recruited his strength a little, he began his story; saying that
+the day before he had left his monastery, which was a good way off
+beyond the lake, intending to visit the bishop at his palace, and
+report to him the distress which these almost supernatural floods had
+caused the monks and their poor tenantry. After going round a long
+way, to avoid these floods, he had been obliged toward evening to
+cross an arm of the overflowing lake, with the help of two honest
+sailors. "But," added he, "no sooner had our little vessel touched the
+waves, than we were wrapped in the tremendous storm, which is still
+raging over our heads now. It looked as if the waters had only awaited
+our coming to give a loose to their fury. The oars were soon dashed
+from the seamen's hands, and we saw their broken fragments carried
+further and further from us by the waves. We floated on the wave tops,
+helpless, driven by the furious tempest toward your shores, which we
+saw in the distance whenever the clouds parted for a moment. The boat
+was tossed about still more wildly and giddily: and whether it upset,
+or I fell out, I cannot tell. I floated on, till a wave landed me at
+the foot of a tree, in this your island."
+
+"Ay, island indeed!" said the Fisherman. "It was a promontory but a
+short time ago. But, since the stream and our lake are gone raving mad
+together, everything about us is new and strange."
+
+The Priest continued: "As I crept along the water-side in the dark,
+with a wild uproar around me, something caught my eye, and presently I
+descried a beaten pathway, which was soon lost in the shades; I spied
+the light in your cottage, and ventured to come hither; and I cannot
+sufficiently thank my heavenly Father, who has not only delivered me
+from the waters, but guided me to such kind souls. I feel this
+blessing the more, as it is very likely I may never see any faces but
+yours again."--"How so?" asked the fisherman. "Can you guess how long
+this fury of the elements may last?" replied the Priest. "And I am an
+old man. My stream of life may perhaps lose itself in the earth,
+before these floods subside. And besides, it may be the foaming waters
+will divide you from the forest more and more, till you are unable to
+get across in your fishing boat; and the people of the mainland, full
+of their own concerns, would quite forget you in your retreat."
+
+Shuddering, and crossing herself, the Fisherman's wife exclaimed, "God
+forbid!" But the old man smiled at her, and said, "What creatures we
+are. That would make no difference, to you at least, my dear wife. How
+many years is it since you have set foot within the forest? And have
+you seen any face but Undine's and mine? Lately, indeed, we have had
+the good Knight and Priest besides. But they would stay with us; so
+that if we are forgotten in this island, you will be the gainer."
+
+"So I see," said the dame; "yet somehow, it is cheerless to feel
+ourselves quite cut off from the rest of the world, however seldom we
+had seen it before."
+
+"Then _you_ will stay with us!" murmured Undine in a sweet voice, and
+she pressed closer to Huldbrand's side. But he was lost in deep
+thought. Since the Priest had last spoken, the land beyond the wild
+stream had seemed to his fancy more dark and distant than ever; while
+the flowery island he lived in--and his bride, the fairest flower in
+the picture--bloomed and smiled more and more freshly in his
+imagination. Here was the Priest at hand to unite them;--and, to
+complete his resolution, the old dame just then darted a reproving
+look at Undine, for clinging to her lover's side in the holy man's
+presence; an angry lecture seemed on the point of beginning. He turned
+toward the Priest, and these words burst from him: "You see before
+you a betrothed pair, reverend sir; if this damsel and the kind old
+people will consent, you shall unite us this very evening."
+
+The old folks were much surprised. Such a thought had often crossed
+their minds, but they had never till this moment heard it uttered; and
+it now fell upon their ears like an unexpected thing. Undine had
+suddenly become quite grave, and sat musing deeply, while the Priest
+inquired into various circumstances, and asked the old couple's
+consent to the deed. After some deliberation, they gave it; the dame
+went away to prepare the young people's bridal chamber, and to fetch
+from her stores two consecrated tapers for the wedding ceremony.
+Meanwhile the Knight was pulling two rings off his gold chain for
+himself and his bride to exchange. But this roused Undine from her
+reverie, and she said: "Stay! my parents did not send me into the
+world quite penniless; they looked forward long ago to this occasion
+and provided for it." She quickly withdrew, and returned bringing two
+costly rings, one of which she gave to her betrothed and kept the
+other herself. This astonished the old Fisherman, and still more his
+wife, who came in soon after; for they neither of them had ever seen
+these jewels about the child. "My parents," said Undine, "had these
+rings sewed into the gay dress which I wore, when first I came to you.
+They charged me to let no one know of them till my wedding-day came.
+Therefore I took them secretly out of the dress, and have kept them
+hidden till this evening."
+
+Here the Priest put a stop to the conversation, by lighting the holy
+tapers, placing them on the table, and calling the young pair to him.
+With few and solemn words he joined their hands; the aged couple gave
+their blessing, while the bride leaned upon her husband, pensive and
+trembling.
+
+When it was over, the Priest said: "You are strange people after all!
+What did you mean by saying you were the only inhabitants of this
+island? During the whole ceremony there was a fine-looking tall man,
+in a white cloak, standing just outside the window opposite me. He
+must be near the door still, if you like to invite him in."--"Heaven
+forbid!" said the dame shuddering; the old man shook his head without
+speaking; and Huldbrand rushed to the window. He could fancy he saw a
+streak of white, but it was soon lost in darkness. So he assured the
+Priest he must have been mistaken; and they all sat down comfortably
+round the fire.
+
+
+VII.--HOW THE REST OF THE EVENING PASSED AWAY
+
+Undine had been perfectly quiet and well-behaved both before and
+during the marriage ceremony; but now her wild spirits seemed the more
+uncontrollable from the restraint they had undergone, and rose to an
+extravagant height. She played all manner of childish tricks on her
+husband, her foster parents, and even the venerable Priest, and when
+the old woman began to check her, one or two words from Huldbrand, who
+gravely called Undine "his wife," reduced her to silence. The Knight
+himself, however, was far from being pleased at Undine's childishness;
+but no hint or sign would stop her. Whenever she perceived his
+disapproving looks--which she occasionally did--it subdued her for the
+moment; she would sit down by him, whisper something playfully in his
+ear, and so dispel the frown as it gathered on his brow. But the next
+instant some wild nonsense would dart into her head, and set her off
+worse than ever. At last the Priest said to her, in a kind but grave
+manner, "My dear young lady, no one that beholds you can be severe
+upon you, it is true; but remember, it is your duty to keep watch over
+your soul, that it may be ever in harmony with that of your wedded
+husband." "Soul!" cried Undine, laughing; "that sounds very fine, and
+for most people may be very edifying and moral advice. But if one has
+no soul at all, pray how is one to keep watch over it? And that is my
+case." The Priest was deeply hurt, and turned away his face in mingled
+sorrow and anger. But she came up to him beseechingly, and said, "Nay,
+hear me before you are angry, for it grieves me to see you displeased,
+and you would not distress any creature who has done you no harm. Only
+have patience with me, and I will tell you all, from the beginning."
+
+They saw she was preparing to give them a regular history; but she
+stopped short, appearing thrilled by some secret recollection, and
+burst into a flood of gentle tears. They were quite at a loss what to
+think of her, and gazed upon her, distressed from various causes. At
+length drying her eyes, she looked at the Priest earnestly and said,
+"There must be much to love in a soul, but much that is awful too. For
+God's sake, holy father, tell me--were it not better to be still
+without one?" She waited breathlessly for an answer, restraining her
+tears. Her hearers had all risen from their seats, and now stepped
+back from her, shuddering. She seemed to have no eyes but for the
+saintly man; her countenance assumed an expression of anxiety and awe
+which yet more alarmed the others. "Heavy must be the burden of a
+soul," added she, as no one answered her--"heavy indeed! for the mere
+approach of mine over-shadows me with anxious melancholy. And ah! how
+light-hearted, how joyous I used to be!" A fresh burst of weeping
+overcame her, and she covered her face with her veil.
+
+The Priest then approached her with much gravity, and adjured her by
+the holiest names to confess the truth, if any evil lurked in her,
+unknown to them. But she fell on her knees before him, repeated after
+him all his words of piety, gave praise to God, and declared she was
+in charity with all the world. The Priest turned to the young Knight.
+"Sir bridegroom," said he, "I leave you alone with her whom I have
+made your wife. As far as I can discover, there is no evil, although
+much that is mysterious, in her. I exhort you to be sober, loving, and
+faithful." So he went out; and the old people followed; crossing
+themselves.
+
+Undine was still on her knees; she uncovered her face and looked
+timidly at Huldbrand, saying, "Ah, thou wilt surely cast me off now;
+and yet I have done nothing wrong, poor, poor child that I am!" This
+she said with so touching and gentle an expression, that her husband
+forgot all the gloom and mystery that had chilled his heart; he
+hastened toward, her and raised her in his arms. She smiled through
+her tears--it was like the glow of dawn shining upon a clear fountain.
+"Thou canst not forsake me!" whispered she, in accents of the firmest
+reliance; and she stroked his cheeks with her soft little hands. He
+tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts which still lurked in a corner
+of his mind, suggesting to him that he had married a fairy, or some
+shadowy being from the world of spirits: one question, however, he
+could not help asking: "My dear little Undine, just tell me one thing:
+what was that you said about spirits of earth, and Kuehleborn, when the
+Priest knocked at the door?"--"All nonsense!" said Undine, laughing,
+with her usual gayety. "First I frightened you with it, and then you
+frightened me. And that is the end of the story, and of our
+wedding-day!"
+
+
+VIII.--THE DAY AFTER THE MARRIAGE
+
+A bright morning light wakened the young people; and Huldbrand lay
+musing silently. As often as he had dropped asleep, he had been scared
+by horrible dreams of spectres who suddenly took the form of fair
+women, or of fair women who were transformed into dragons. And when he
+started up from these grim visions, and saw the pale, cold moonlight
+streaming in at the window, he would turn an anxious look toward
+Undine; she lay slumbering in undisturbed beauty and peace. Then he
+would compose himself to sleep again--soon again to wake in terror.
+When he looked back upon all this in broad daylight, he was angry with
+himself for having let a suspicion, a shade of distrust of his
+beautiful wife, enter his mind. He frankly confessed to her this
+injustice; she answered him only by pressing his hand, and sighing
+from the bottom of her heart. But a look, such as her eyes had never
+before given, of the deepest and most confiding tenderness, left him
+no doubt that she forgave him. So he arose cheerfully, and joined the
+family in the sitting-room. The three others were gathered round the
+hearth looking uneasy, and neither of them having ventured to speak
+his thoughts yet. The Priest seemed to be secretly praying for
+deliverance from evil. But when the young husband appeared, beaming
+with happiness, the care-worn faces brightened up; nay, the Fisherman
+ventured upon a few courteous jokes with the Knight, which won a smile
+even from the good housewife. Meanwhile Undine had dressed herself,
+and now came in; they could not help rising to meet her, and stood
+still, astonished; the young creature was the same, yet so different.
+The Priest was the first to address her, with an air of paternal
+kindness, and when he raised his hands in benediction, the fair woman
+sank on her knees, trembling with pious awe. In a few meek and humble
+words, she begged him to forgive the folly of the day before, and
+besought him, with great emotion, to pray for the salvation of her
+soul. Then rising, she kissed her foster parents, and thanking them
+for all their kindness, she said: "Oh, now I feel from the bottom of
+my heart how much you have done for me, how deeply grateful I ought to
+be, dear, dear people!" She seemed as if she could not caress them
+enough; but soon, observing the dame glance toward the breakfast, she
+went toward the hearth, busied herself arranging and preparing the
+meal, and would not suffer the good woman to take the least trouble
+herself.
+
+So she went on all day; at once a young matron, and a bashful, tender,
+delicate bride. The three who knew her best were every moment
+expecting this mood to change, and give place to one of her crazy
+fits; but they watched in vain. There was still the same angelic
+mildness and sweetness. The Priest could not keep his eyes away from
+her, and he said more than once to the bridegroom, "Sir, it was a
+great treasure which Heaven bestowed upon you yesterday, by my poor
+ministration; cherish her worthily, and she will be to you a blessing
+in time and eternity."
+
+Toward evening, Undine clasped the Knight's arm with modest
+tenderness, and gently led him out before the door, where the rays of
+the setting sun were lighting up the fresh grass, and the tall, taper
+stems of trees. The young wife's face wore a melting expression of
+love and sadness, and her lips quivered with some anxious, momentous
+secret, which as yet betrayed itself only by scarce audible sighs. She
+silently led her companion onward; if he spoke, she replied by a look
+which gave him no direct answer, but revealed a whole heaven of love
+and timid submission. So they reached the banks of the stream which
+had overflowed, and the Knight started on finding the wild torrent
+changed into a gentle rippling brook, without a trace of its former
+violence left. "By to-morrow it will have dried up completely," said
+the bride, in a faltering voice, "and thou mayest begone whither thou
+wilt."--"Not without thee, my Undine," said the Knight, playfully;
+"consider, if I had a mind to forsake thee, the Church, the Emperor,
+and his ministers might step in, and bring thy truant home."--"No, no,
+you are free; it shall be as you please!" murmured Undine, half tears,
+half smiles. "But I think thou wilt not cast me away; is not my heart
+bound up in thine? Carry me over to that little island opposite. There
+I will know my fate. I could indeed easily step through the little
+waves; but I love to rest in thine arms! and thou _mayest_ cast me
+off; this may be the last time." Huldbrand, full of anxious emotion,
+knew not how to answer. He took her up in his arms, and carried her
+over, now recollecting that from this very island he had borne her
+home to the Fisherman, on the night of his arrival. When there, he
+placed his fair burden on the turf, and was going to sit down beside
+her; but she said, "No, sit there, opposite me--I will read my doom in
+your eyes, before your lips have spoken it. Now listen, and I will
+tell you all." And she began:--
+
+"You must know, my own love, that in each element exists a race of
+beings, whose form scarcely differs from yours, but who very seldom
+appear to mortal sight. In the flames, the wondrous Salamanders
+glitter and disport themselves; in the depths of earth dwell the dry,
+spiteful race of Gnomes; the forests are peopled by Wood-nymphs, who
+are also spirits of air; and the seas, the rivers and brooks contain
+the numberless tribes of Water-sprites. Their echoing halls of
+crystal, where the light of heaven pours in, with its sun and stars,
+are glorious to dwell in; the gardens contain beautiful coral plants,
+with blue and red fruits; they wander over bright sea-sands, and
+gay-coloured shells, among the hidden treasures of the old world, too
+precious to be bestowed on these latter days, and long since covered
+by the silver mantle of the deep: many a noble monument still gleams
+there below, bedewed by the tears of Ocean, who garlands it with
+flowery sea-weeds and wreaths of shells. Those that dwell there below,
+are noble and lovely to behold, far more so than mankind. Many a
+fisherman has had a passing glimpse of some fair water-nymph, rising
+out of the sea with her song; he would then spread the report of her
+apparition, and these wonderful beings came to be called _Undines_.
+And you now see before you, my love, an Undine."
+
+The Knight tried to persuade himself that his fair wife was in one of
+her wild moods, and had invented this strange tale in sport. But
+though he said this to himself, he could not for a moment believe it;
+a mysterious feeling thrilled him; and, unable to utter a word, he
+kept his eyes rivetted on the beautiful speaker. She shook her head
+sadly, heaved a deep sigh, and went on:--
+
+"We might be happier than our human fellow-creatures (for we call you
+fellow-creatures, as our forms are alike), but for one great evil. We,
+and the other children of the elements, go down to the dust, body and
+spirit; not a trace of us remains and when the time comes for you to
+rise again to a glorified existence, we shall have perished with our
+native sands, flames, winds, and waves. For we have no souls; the
+elements move us, obey us while we live, close over us when we die;
+and we light spirits live as free from care as the nightingale, the
+gold-fish, and all such bright children of Nature. But no creatures
+rest content in their appointed place. My father, who is a mighty
+prince in the Mediterranean Sea, determined that his only child should
+be endowed with a soul, even at the cost of much suffering, which is
+ever the lot of souls. But a soul can be infused into one of our race,
+only by being united in the closest bands of love to one of yours. And
+now I have obtained a soul; to thee I owe it, O best beloved! and for
+that gift I shall ever bless thee, unless thou dost devote my whole
+futurity to misery. For what is to become of me should thou recoil
+from me, and cast me off? Yet I would not detain thee by deceit. And
+if I am to leave thee, say so now; go back to the land alone. I will
+plunge into this brook; it is my uncle, who leads a wonderful,
+sequestered life in this forest, away from all his friends. But he is
+powerful, and allied to many great rivers; and as he brought me here
+to the Fisherman, a gay and laughing child, so he is ready to take me
+back to my parents, a loving, suffering, forsaken woman."
+
+She would have gone on; but Huldbrand, full of compassion and love,
+caught her in his arms, and carried her back. There, with tears and
+kisses, he swore never to forsake his beloved wife; and said he felt
+more blessed than the Greek sculptor Pygmalion, whose beautiful statue
+dame Venus transformed into a living woman. Hanging on his arm in
+peaceful reliance, Undine returned; and she felt from her inmost
+heart, how little cause she had to regret the crystal palaces of her
+father.
+
+
+IX.--HOW THE KNIGHT AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE DEPARTED
+
+When Huldbrand awoke from sleep the next morning, he missed his fair
+companion; and again he was tormented with a doubt, whether his
+marriage, and the lovely Undine, might not be all a fairy dream. But
+she soon reappeared, came up to him, and said, "I have been out early,
+to see if my uncle had kept his word. He has recalled all the straying
+waters into his quiet bed, and now takes his lonely and pensive course
+through the forest as he used to do. His friends in the lake and the
+air are gone to rest also; all things have returned to their usual
+calmness; and you may set out homeward on dry land, as soon as you
+please." Huldbrand felt as if dreaming still, so little could he
+understand his wife's wonderful relations. But he took no notice of
+this, and his sweet Undine's gentle attentions soon charmed every
+uneasy thought away.
+
+A little while after, as they stood at the door together, looking over
+the fair scene with its boundary of clear waters, his heart yearned so
+toward this cradle of his love that he said: "But why should we go
+away so soon? we shall never spend happier days in yonder world, than
+we have passed in this peaceful nook. Let us at least see two or three
+more suns go down here."--"As my Lord wishes," answered Undine, with
+cheerful submission; "but, you see, the old people will be grieved at
+parting with me, whenever it is; and if we give them time to become
+acquainted with my soul, and with its new powers of loving and
+honouring them, I fear that when I go, their aged hearts will break
+under the load of sorrow. As yet, they take my gentle mood for a
+passing whim, such as they saw me liable to formerly, like a calm on
+the lake when the winds are lulled; and they will soon begin to love
+some favourite tree or flower in my place. They must not learn to know
+this newly obtained, affectionate heart, in the first overflowings of
+its tenderness, just at the moment when they are to lose me for this
+world; and how could I disguise it from them, if we remained together
+longer?"
+
+Huldbrand agreed with her; he went to the old couple and finding them
+ready to consent, he resolved upon setting out that very hour. The
+Priest offered to accompany them; after a hasty farewell, the pretty
+bride was placed on the horse by her husband, and they crossed the
+stream's dry bed quickly, and entered the forest. Undine shed silent
+but bitter tears, while the old folks wailed after her aloud. It
+seemed as if some foreboding were crossing their minds, of how great
+their loss would prove.
+
+The three travellers reached the deepest shades of the forest, without
+breaking silence. It was a fair sight to behold, as they passed
+through the leafy bowers: the graceful woman sitting on her noble
+steed, guarded on one side by the venerable Priest in the white habit
+of his order; on the other, by the youthful Knight, with his gorgeous
+attire and glittering sword. Huldbrand had no eyes but for his
+precious wife; Undine, who had dried her duteous tears, no thought but
+for him; and they soon fell into a noiseless interchange of glances
+and signs, which at length was interrupted by the sound of a low
+murmur, proceeding from the Priest and a fourth fellow-traveller, who
+had joined them unobserved. He wore a white robe, very like the
+Priest's dress, except that the hood almost covered his face, and the
+rest of it floated round him in such large folds that he was
+perpetually obliged to gather up, throw it over his arm, or otherwise
+arrange it; yet it did not seem to impede him at all in walking; when
+the young people saw him he was saying, "And so, my worthy father, I
+have dwelt in the forest for many a year, yet I am not what you
+commonly call a hermit. For, as I told you, I know nothing of penance,
+nor do I think it would do me much good. What makes me so fond of the
+woods is, that I have a very particular fancy for winding through the
+dark shades and forest walks, with my loose white clothes floating
+about me; now and then a pretty sunbeam will glance over me as I
+go."--"You seem to be a very curious person," replied the Priest "and
+I should like to know more about you."--"And pray who are you, to
+carry on the acquaintance?" said the stranger. "They call me Father
+Heilmann," answered the Priest, "and I belong to St. Mary's
+monastery, beyond the lake."--"Ay, ay!" rejoined the other. "My name
+is Kuehleborn, and if I stood upon ceremony, I might well call myself
+Lord of Kuehleborn, or Baron (Freiherr) Kuehleborn; for free I am, as
+the bird of the air, or a trifle more free. For instance, I must now
+have a word with the young woman there." And before they could look
+round, he was on the other side of the Priest, close to Undine, and
+stretching up his tall figure to whisper in her ear. But she turned
+hastily away, saying, "I have nothing more to do with you
+now."--"Heyday!" said the stranger, laughing, "what a prodigiously
+grand marriage yours must be, if you are to cast off your relations in
+this way! Have you forgotten Uncle Kuehleborn, who brought you all the
+way here on his back so kindly?"
+
+"But I entreat you," said Undine, "never come to me again. I am afraid
+of you now; and will not my husband become afraid of me, if he finds I
+have so strange a family?"--"My little niece," said Kuehleborn, "please
+to remember that I am protecting you all this time; the foul Spirits
+of Earth might play you troublesome tricks if I did not. So you had
+better let me go on with you, and no more words. The old Priest there
+has a better memory than yours, for he would have it he knew my face
+very well, and that I must have been with him in the boat, when he
+fell into the water. And he may well say so, seeing that the wave
+which washed him over was none but myself, and I landed him safe on
+the shore, in time for your wedding."
+
+Undine and the Knight looked at Father Heilmann, but he seemed to be
+plodding on in a waking dream, and not listening to what was said.
+Undine said to Kuehleborn, "There, I can see the end of the wood; we
+want your help no longer, and there is nothing to disturb us but you.
+So in love and kindness I entreat you, begone, and let us go in
+peace." This seemed to make Kuehleborn angry; he twisted his face
+hideously, and hissed at Undine, who cried aloud for help. Like
+lightning the Knight passed round her horse, and aimed a blow at
+Kuehleborn's head with his sword. But instead of the head, he struck
+into a waterfall, which gushed down a high cliff near them, and now
+showered them all with a splash that sounded like laughter, and wetted
+them to the bone. The Priest, seeming to wake up, said, "Well, I was
+expecting this, because that brook gushed down the rock so close to
+us. At first I could not shake off the idea that it was a man, and was
+speaking to me." The waterfall whispered distinctly in Huldbrand's
+ear, "Rash youth, dashing youth, I chide thee not, I shame thee not;
+still shield thy precious wife safe and sure, rash young soldier,
+dashing Knight!"
+
+A little further on they emerged into the open plains. The city lay
+glittering before them, and the evening sun that gilded her towers,
+lent its grateful warmth to dry their soaked garments.
+
+
+X.--OF THEIR WAY OF LIFE IN THE TOWN
+
+The sudden disappearance of the young Knight Huldbrand of Ringstetten
+had made a great stir in the city, and distressed the inhabitants,
+with whom his gallantry in the lists and the dance, and his gentle,
+courteous manners, had made him very popular. His retainers would not
+leave the place without their master, but yet none had the courage to
+seek him in the haunted forest. They therefore remained in their
+hostelry, idly hoping, as men are so apt to do, and keeping alive the
+remembrance of their lost lord by lamentations. But soon after, when
+the tempest raged and the rivers overflowed, few doubted that the
+handsome stranger must have perished. Bertalda, among others, mourned
+him for lost, and was ready to curse herself, for having urged him to
+the fatal ride through the forest. Her ducal foster parents had
+arrived to take her away, but she prevailed upon them to wait a
+little, in hope that a true report of Huldbrand's death or safety
+might reach them. She tried to persuade some of the young knights who
+contended for her favour, to venture into the forest and seek for the
+noble adventurer. But she would not offer her hand as the reward,
+because she still hoped to bestow it some day on the wanderer himself;
+and to obtain a glove, a scarf, or some such token from her, none of
+them cared to expose his life to bring back so dangerous a rival.
+
+Now, when Huldbrand unexpectedly reappeared, it spread joy among his
+servants, and all the people generally, except Bertalda; for while the
+others were pleased at his bringing with him such a beautiful wife,
+and Father Heilmann to bear witness to their marriage, it could not
+but grieve _her_: first, because the young Knight had really won her
+heart; and next, because she had betrayed her feelings by so openly
+lamenting his absence, far more than was now becoming. However, she
+behaved like a prudent woman and suited her conduct to the
+circumstances, by living in the most cordial intimacy with Undine--who
+passed in the town for a princess, released by Huldbrand from the
+power of some wicked enchanter of the forest. If she or her husband
+were questioned about it, they gave evasive answers; Father Heilmann's
+lips were sealed on all such idle topics, beside which, he had left
+them soon after they arrived, and returned to his cloister: so the
+citizens were left to their own wondering conjectures, and even
+Bertalda came no nearer the truth than others.
+
+Meanwhile, Undine grew daily more fond of this winning damsel. "We
+must have known each other before," she would often say, "or else some
+secret attraction draws us toward each other; for without some cause,
+some strange, mysterious cause, I am sure nobody would love another as
+I have loved you from the moment we met." Bertalda, on her part, could
+not deny that she felt strongly inclined to like Undine,
+notwithstanding the grounds of complaint she thought she had against
+this happy rival. The affection being mutual, the one persuaded her
+parents, the other her wedded lord, to defer the day of departure
+repeatedly; they even went so far as to propose that Bertalda should
+accompany Undine to the castle of Ringstetten, near the source of the
+Danube.
+
+They were talking of this one fine evening, as they sauntered by
+starlight round the market-place, which was surrounded by high trees;
+the young couple had invited Bertalda to join their evening stroll,
+and they now paced backward and forward in pleasant talk, with the
+dark blue sky over their heads, and a beautiful fountain before them
+in the centre, which, as it bubbled and sprang up into fanciful
+shapes, often caught their attention, and interrupted the
+conversation. All around them was serene and pleasant; through the
+foliage gleamed the light of many a lamp from the surrounding houses;
+and the ear was soothed by the hum of children at play, and of
+sauntering groups like themselves; they enjoyed at once the pleasure
+of solitude, and the social happiness of being near the cheerful
+haunts of men. Every little difficulty that had occurred to their
+favourite plan, seemed to vanish upon nearer examination, and the
+three friends could not imagine that Bertalda's consent to the journey
+need be delayed a moment. But as she was on the point of naming a day
+for joining them and setting out, a very tall man came forward from
+the middle of the place, bowed to them respectfully, and began
+whispering in Undine's ear. She though apparently displeased with the
+interruption and with the speaker, stepped aside with him, and they
+began a low discourse together, in what sounded like a foreign
+language. Huldbrand thought he knew this strange man's face, and fixed
+his attention upon him so earnestly, that he neither heard nor
+answered the astonished Bertalda's questions. All at once Undine
+clapped her hands joyfully, and turned her back, laughing, upon the
+stranger; he shook his head and walked off in an angry, hurried
+manner, and stepped into the fountain. This confirmed Huldbrand in his
+guess; while Bertalda inquired, "My dear Undine, what business had
+that man of the fountain with you?" Her friend smiled archly and
+replied, "On your birthday, the day after to-morrow, I will tell you,
+my sweet girl;" and she would say no more. She only pressed Bertalda
+to come and dine with them on that day, and bring her foster parents;
+after which they separated.
+
+"Kuehleborn?" said Huldbrand to his wife with a suppressed shudder, as
+they walked home through the dark streets. "Yes, it was he," replied
+Undine "and he tried to put all sorts of nonsense into my head.
+However, without intending it he delighted me by one piece of news. If
+you wish to hear it, now, my kind lord, you have but to say so, and I
+will tell you every word. But if you like to give your Undine a _very_
+great delight, you will wait two days, and then have your share in the
+surprise."
+
+The Knight readily granted her what she had asked so meekly and
+gracefully; and as she dropped asleep she murmured, "How it will
+delight her! how little she expects such a message from the mysterious
+man--dear, dear Bertalda!"
+
+
+XI.--BERTALDA'S BIRTHDAY
+
+The guests were now assembled at table; Bertalda sat at the top,
+adorned with flowers like the goddess of spring, and flashing with
+jewels, the gifts of many friends and relations. Undine and Huldbrand
+were on either side of her. When the sumptuous meal was ended, and the
+dessert served, the doors were opened--according to the good old
+German custom--to let the common people look in and have their share
+in the gaiety of the rich. The attendants offered wine and cake to the
+assembled crowd. Huldbrand and Bertalda were eagerly watching for the
+promised disclosure, and both kept their eyes fixed upon Undine. But
+she was still silent; her cheeks dimpled occasionally with a bright,
+conscious smile. Those that knew what she was about to do, could
+perceive that her interesting secret was ready to burst from her lips,
+but that she was playfully determined to keep it in, as children
+sometimes will save their daintiest morsels for the last. Her silent
+glee communicated itself to the other two, who watched impatiently for
+the happy news that was about to gladden their hearts. Some of the
+company now asked Undine for a song. She seemed to be prepared with
+one, and sent for her lute, to which she sang as follows:--
+
+The sun gilds the wave,
+  The flowers are sweet,
+And the ocean doth lave
+  The grass at our feet!
+
+What lies on the earth
+  So blooming and gay?
+Doth a blossom peep forth
+  And greet the new day?
+
+Ah, 'tis a fair child!
+  She sports with the flowers,
+So gladsome and mild,
+  Through the warm sunny hours
+
+O sweet one, who brought thee?
+  From far distant shore
+Old Ocean he caught thee,
+  And many a league bore.
+
+Poor babe, all in vain
+  Thou dost put forth thy hand
+None clasp it again,
+  'Tis a bleak foreign land:
+
+The flowers bloom brightly,
+  And soft breathes the air,
+But all pass thee lightly:
+  Thy mother is far!
+
+Thy life scarce begun,
+  Thy smiles fresh from heaven,
+Thy best treasure is gone,
+  To another 'tis given.
+
+A gallant charger treads the dell,
+  His noble rider pities thee;
+He takes thee home, he tends thee well,
+  And cares for thee right gen'rously.
+
+Well thou becom'st thy station high,
+  And bloom'st the fairest in the land;
+And yet, alas! the purest joy
+  Is left on thine own distant strand.
+
+Undine put down her lute with a melancholy smile and the eyes of the
+Duke and Duchess filled with tears: "So it was when I found you, my
+poor innocent orphan!" said the Duke with great emotion "as the fair
+singer said, your best treasure was gone and we have been unable to
+supply its place."
+
+"Now let us think of the poor parents," said Undine and she struck
+the chords and sang:--
+
+               I
+
+Mother roves from room to room
+  Seeking rest, she knows not how,
+The house is silent as the tomb,
+  And who is there to bless her now?
+
+              II
+
+Silent house! Oh words of sorrow!
+  Where is now her darling child?
+She who should have cheered the morrow,
+  And the evening hours beguiled?
+
+              III
+
+The buds are swelling on the tree,
+  The sun returns when night is o'er;
+But, mother, ne'er comes joy to thee,
+  Thy child shall bless thine eyes no more.
+
+              IV
+
+And when the evening breezes blow,
+  And father seeks his own fireside,
+He smiles, forgetful of his woe,
+  But ah! his tears that smile shall hide.
+
+               V
+
+Father knows that in his home
+  Deathlike stillness dwells for aye;
+The voice of mirth no more shall come,
+  And mother sighs the livelong day.
+
+"O Undine, for God's sake, where are my parents?" cried Bertalda,
+weeping. "Surely you know, you have discovered it, most wonderful
+woman; else how could you have stirred my inmost heart as you have
+done? They are perhaps even now in the room--can it be?"--and her eyes
+glanced over the gay assembly, and fixed upon a reigning Princess who
+sat next to the Duke. But Undine bent forward to the door, her eyes
+overflowing with the happiest tears. "Where are they, the poor anxious
+parents?" said she; and the old Fisherman and his wife came out from
+the crowd of bystanders. They turned an inquiring eye upon Undine, and
+then upon the handsome lady whom they were to call daughter. "There
+she is," faltered the delighted Undine, and the aged couple caught
+their long-lost child in their arms, thanking God, and weeping aloud.
+
+Affrighted and enraged, Bertalda shrank from their embrace. It was
+more than her proud spirit could bear, to be thus degraded; at a
+moment, too, when she was fully expecting an increase of splendour,
+and fancy was showering pearls and diadems upon her head. She
+suspected that her rival had contrived this, on purpose to mortify her
+before Huldbrand and all the world. She reviled both Undine and the
+old people; the hateful words, "Treacherous creature! and bribed
+wretches!" burst from her lips. The old woman said in a half whisper,
+"Dear me, she has grown up a wicked woman; and yet my heart tells me
+she is my own child." The Fisherman has clasped his hands, and was
+praying silently that this girl might not prove to be theirs indeed.
+Undine, pale as death, looked from Bertalda to the parents, from the
+parents to Bertalda, and could not recover the rude shock she had
+sustained, at being plunged from all her happy dreams into a state of
+fear and misery, such as she had never known before.
+
+"Have you a soul? Have you indeed a soul, Bertalda?" she exclaimed
+once or twice, trying to recall her angry friend to reason, from what
+she took for a fit of madness, or a kind of nightmare. But Bertalda
+only stormed the louder; the repulsed parents wailed piteously, and
+the company began to dispute angrily and to side with one or the
+other; when Undine stepped forward, and asked with so much earnest
+gentleness to be listened to in her husband's house that all was
+hushed in a moment. She took the place which Bertalda had left, at
+the head of the table, and as she stood there in modest dignity, the
+eyes of all turned toward her, and she said: "You all that cast such
+angry looks at each other, and so cruelly spoil the joy of my poor
+feast, alas! I little knew what your foolish angry passions were, and
+I think I never shall understand you. What I had hoped would do so
+much good has led to all this; but that is not my fault, it is your
+own doing, believe me; I have little more to say, but one thing you
+must hear: I have told no falsehood. Proofs I have none to give,
+beyond my word, but I will swear to the truth of it. I heard it from
+him who decoyed Bertalda from her parents into the water, and then
+laid her down in the meadow where the Duke was to pass."
+
+"She is a sorceress," cried Bertalda, "a witch who has dealings with
+evil spirits! she has acknowledged it."
+
+"I have not," said Undine, with a heaven of innocence and
+guilelessness in her eyes. "Nor am I a witch--only look at me!"
+
+"Then she lies," cried Bertalda, "and she dares not assert that I was
+born of these mean people. My noble parents, I beseech you take me out
+of this room, and this town, where they are leagued together to insult
+me."
+
+But the venerable Duke stood still, and his lady said, "We must first
+sift this matter to the bottom. Nothing shall make me leave the room
+till my doubts are satisfied."
+
+Then the old woman came up, made a deep obeisance to the Duchess, and
+said, "You give me courage to speak, my noble, worthy lady. I must
+tell you, that if this ungodly young woman is my daughter, I shall
+know her by a violet mark between her shoulders, and another on the
+left instep. If she would but come with me into another room--"
+
+"I will not uncover myself before that country-woman," said Bertalda,
+proudly turning away.
+
+"But before me, you will," rejoined the Duchess gravely. "You shall go
+with me into that room, young woman, and the good dame will accompany
+us." They withdrew together, leaving the party in silent suspense. In
+a few minutes they came back; Bertalda was deadly pale, and the
+Duchess said, "Truth is truth, and I am bound to declare that our Lady
+Hostess has told us perfectly right. Bertalda is the Fisherman's
+daughter; more than that, it concerns nobody to know." And the
+princely pair departed, taking with them their adopted child, and
+followed (upon a sign from the Duke) by the Fisherman and his wife.
+The rest of the assembly broke up, in silence or with secret murmurs,
+and Undine sank into Huldbrand's arms, weeping bitterly.
+
+
+XII.--HOW THEY LEFT THE IMPERIAL CITY
+
+There was certainly much to displease the Lord of Ringstetten in the
+events of this day; yet he could not look back upon them, without
+feeling proud of the guileless truth and the generosity of heart shown
+by his lovely wife. "If indeed her soul was my gift," thought he, "it
+is nevertheless much better than my own;" and he devoted himself to
+the task of soothing her grief, and determined he would take her away
+the next morning from a spot now so full of bitter recollections.
+
+They were mistaken, however, in thinking that she had lost in the eyes
+of the world by this adventure. So prepared were the minds of the
+people to find something mysterious in her, that her strange discovery
+of Bertalda's origin scarcely surprised them; while, on the other
+hand, everyone that heard of Bertalda's history and of her passionate
+behaviour, was moved with indignation. Of this, the Knight and Undine
+were not aware; nor would it have given them any comfort, for she was
+still as jealous of Bertalda's good name as of her own. Upon the
+whole, they had no greater wish than to leave the town without delay.
+
+At daybreak next morning, Undine's chariot was in readiness at the
+door, and the steeds of Huldbrand and of his squires stood around it,
+pawing the ground with impatience. As the Knight led his fair bride to
+the door, a fishing girl accosted them. "We want no fish," said
+Huldbrand; "we are just going away." The girl began to sob bitterly,
+and they then recognised her as Bertalda. They immediately turned back
+into the house with her; and she said that the Duke and Duchess had
+been so incensed at her violence the day before, as to withdraw their
+protection from her, though not without giving her a handsome
+allowance. The Fisherman too had received a liberal gift, and had
+departed that evening with his wife, to return to the promontory. "I
+would have gone with them," she continued, "but the old Fisherman,
+whom they call my father--"
+
+"And so he is, Bertalda," interrupted Undine. "He is your father. For
+the man you saw at the fountain told me how it is. He was trying to
+persuade me that I had better not take you to Ringstetten, and he let
+drop the secret."
+
+"Well then," said Bertalda, "my father--if so it must be--my father
+said, 'You shall not live with us till you are an altered creature.
+Take courage and come across the haunted forest to us; that will show
+that you sincerely wish to belong to your parents. But do not come in
+your finery; be like what you are, a fisherman's daughter.' And I will
+do as he bids me; for the whole world has forsaken me, and I have
+nothing left, but to live and die humbly in a poor hut, alone with my
+lowly parents. I do dread the forest very much. They say it is full of
+grim spectres, and I am so timid! But what can I do? I came here only
+to implore the Lady of Ringstetten's pardon for my rude language
+yesterday. I have no doubt you meant what you did kindly, noble Dame;
+but you little knew what a trial your words would be to me, and I was
+so alarmed and bewildered, that many a hasty, wicked word escaped my
+lips. Ah forgive me, forgive me! I am unhappy enough already. Only
+consider what I was yesterday morning, even at the beginning of your
+feast, and what I am now."
+
+Her words were lost in a flood of bitter tears, and Undine, equally
+affected, fell weeping on her neck. It was long before her emotion
+would let her speak: at length she said, "You shall go to Ringstetten
+with us; all shall be as we had settled it before; only call me Undine
+again, and not 'Lady' and 'noble Dame.' You see, we began by being
+exchanged in our cradles; our lives have been linked from that hour,
+and we will try to bind them so closely that no human power shall
+sever us. Come with us to Ringstetten, and all will be well. We will
+live like sisters there, trust me for arranging that." Bertalda looked
+timidly at Huldbrand. The sight of this beautiful, forsaken maiden
+affected him; he gave her his hand and encouraged her kindly to trust
+herself to him and his wife. "As to your parents," said he, "we will
+let them know why you do not appear;" and he would have said much more
+concerning the good old folks, but he observed that Bertalda shuddered
+at the mention of them, and therefore dropped the subject. He gave her
+his arm, placed first her and then Undine in the carriage, and rode
+cheerfully after them; he urged the drivers on so effectually, that
+they very soon found themselves out of sight of the city, and beyond
+the reach of sad recollections--and the two ladies could fully enjoy
+the beautiful country through which the road wound along.
+
+After a few days' travelling, they arrived, one sunny evening, at the
+Castle of Ringstetten. Its young lord had much business with his
+steward and labourers to occupy him, so that Undine was left alone
+with Bertalda. They took a walk on the high ramparts of the castle,
+and admired the rich Swabian landscape, which lay far and wide around
+them. A tall man suddenly came up, with a courteous obeisance; and
+Bertalda could not help thinking him very like the ominous man of the
+fountain. The likeness struck her still more, when, upon an impatient
+and even menacing gesture of Undine's, he went away with the same
+hasty step and shake of the head as before.
+
+"Do not be afraid, dear Bertalda," said Undine, "the ugly man shall
+not harm you this time." After which she told her whole history,
+beginning from her birth, and how they had been exchanged in their
+earliest childhood. At first her friend looked at her with serious
+alarm; she thought Undine was possessed by some delirium. But she
+became convinced it was all true, as she listened to the
+well-connected narrative, which accounted so well for the strange
+events of the last months; besides which, there is something in
+genuine truth which finds an answer in every heart, and can hardly be
+mistaken. She was bewildered, when she found herself one of the actors
+in a living fairy tale, and as wild a tale as any she had read. She
+gazed upon Undine with reverence; but could not help feeling a chill
+thrown over her affection for her; and that evening at supper time,
+she wondered at the Knight's fond love and familiarity toward a being,
+whom she now looked upon as rather a spirit than a human creature.
+
+
+XIII.--HOW THEY LIVED IN THE CASTLE OF RINGSTETTEN
+
+As he who relates this tale is moved to the heart by it, and hopes
+that it may affect his readers too, he entreats of them one favour;
+namely, that they will bear with him while he passes rapidly over a
+long space of time; and be content if he barely touches upon what
+happened therein. He knows well that some would relate in great
+detail, step by step, how Huldbrand's heart began to be estranged from
+Undine, and drawn toward Bertalda; while she cared not to disguise
+from him her ardent love; and how between them the poor injured wife
+came to be rather feared than pitied--and when he showed her kindness,
+a cold shiver would often creep over him and send him back to the
+child of earth, Bertalda;--all this the author knows, might be dwelt
+upon; nay, perhaps it ought to be so. But his heart shrinks from such
+a task, for he has met with such passages in real life, and cannot
+even abide their shadows in his memory. Perhaps, gentle reader, such
+feelings are known to thee also, for they are the common lot of mortal
+man. Well is thee if thou hast felt, not inflicted, these pangs; in
+these cases it is more blessed to receive than to give. As such
+recollections wake up from their cells, they will but cast a soft
+shade over the past; and it may be the thought of thy withered
+blossoms, once so fondly loved, brings a gentle tear down thy cheek.
+Enough of this: we will not go on to pierce our hearts with a thousand
+separate arrows, but content ourselves with saying, that so it
+happened in the present instance.
+
+Poor Undine drooped day by day, and the others were neither of them
+happy; Bertalda especially was uneasy, and ready to suspect the
+injured wife, whenever she fancied herself slighted by Huldbrand;
+meantime she had gradually assumed the command in the house, and the
+deluded Huldbrand supported her openly. Undine looked on, in meek
+resignation. To increase the discomfort of their lives, there was no
+end to the mysterious sights and sounds that haunted Huldbrand and
+Bertalda in the vaulted galleries of the castle; such as had never
+been heard of before. The long white man, too well known to him as
+Uncle Kuehleborn, and to her as the spirit of the fountain, often
+showed his threatening countenance to both; but chiefly to Bertalda,
+who had more than once been made ill by the fright, and thought
+seriously of leaving the castle. But her love for Huldbrand detained
+her, and she quieted her conscience by thinking, that it had never
+come to a declaration of love between them; and, besides, she would
+not have known which way to turn. After receiving the Lord of
+Ringstetten's message, that Bertalda was with them, the old Fisherman
+had traced a few lines, scarcely legible, from infirmity and long
+disuse, saying, "I am now a poor old widower; for my dear good wife is
+dead. But, lonely as I am by my fireside, I had rather Bertalda stayed
+away than come here. Provided she does not harm my dear Undine! My
+curse be upon her if she does." Bertalda scattered these last words to
+the winds, but treasured up her father's command that she should not
+join him: as is the way with us selfish beings.
+
+One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, Undine sent for her
+servants and desired them to fetch a large stone and carefully to stop
+up the mouth of the magnificent fountain, which played in the centre
+of the court. The men objected, that they must then always go down the
+valley to a great distance for water. Undine smiled mournfully. "It
+grieves me to add to your burdens, my good friends," said she, "I had
+rather go and fill my pitcher myself; but this fountain must be
+sealed up. Trust me, nothing else will do, and it is our only way of
+escaping a much worse evil."
+
+The servants rejoiced at any opportunity of pleasing their gentle
+mistress; not a word more was said, and they lifted the huge stone.
+They had raised it, and were about to let it down on the mouth of the
+spring, when Bertalda ran up, calling out to them to stop: the water
+of this fountain was the best for her complexion, and she never would
+consent to its being stopped. But Undine, instead of yielding as
+usual, kept firmly, though gently, to her resolution; she said that it
+behooved her, as mistress of the house, to order all such matters as
+appeared best to her, and none but her lord and husband should call
+her to account. "Look, oh look!" cried Bertalda, eagerly and angrily,
+"how the poor bright water curls and writhes, because you would
+deprive it of every gleam of sunshine, and of the cheerful faces of
+men, whose mirror it was created to be!" In truth, the spring did
+writhe and bubble up wonderfully, just as if someone were trying to
+force his way through; but Undine pressed them the more to dispatch
+the work. Nor was there much need to repeat her commands. The
+household people were too glad at once to obey their gentle lady, and
+to mortify the pride of Bertalda, in spite of whose threats and wrath,
+the stone was soon firmly fastened down on the mouth of the spring.
+Undine bent over it thoughtfully, and wrote on its surface with her
+delicate fingers. Something very hard and sharp must have been hidden
+in her hand; for when she walked away, and the others came up, they
+found all manner of strange characters on the stone, none of which
+were there before.
+
+When the Knight came home that evening, Bertalda received him with
+tears and complaints of Undine. He looked sternly at his poor wife,
+who mournfully cast down her eyes, saying, however, with firmness, "My
+lord and husband would not chide the meanest of his vassals, without
+giving him a hearing, much less his wedded wife."--"Speak, then; what
+was your reason for this strange proceeding?" said the Knight with a
+frown. "I would rather tell it you quite alone!" sighed Undine. "You
+can say it just as well in Bertalda's presence," replied he. "Yes, if
+thou requirest it," said Undine, "but require it not." She looked so
+humble, and so submissive in her touching beauty, that the Knight's
+heart was melted, as by a sunbeam from happier days. He took her
+affectionately by the hand, and led her to his own room, where she
+spoke to him as follows.
+
+"You know that wicked Uncle Kuehleborn, my dearest lord, and have often
+been provoked at meeting him about the castle. Bertalda, too, has been
+often terrified by him. No wonder; he is soulless, shallow, and
+unthinking as a mirror, in whom no feeling can pierce the surface. He
+has two or three times seen that you were displeased with me, that I
+in my childishness could not help weeping, and that Bertalda might
+chance to laugh at the same moment. And upon this he builds all manner
+of unjust suspicions, and interferes, unasked, in our concerns. What
+is the use of my reproaching him, or repulsing him with angry words?
+He believes nothing that I say. A poor cold life is his! How should he
+know, that the sorrows and the joys of love are so sweetly alike, so
+closely linked, that it is not in human power to part them. When a
+tear gushes out, a smile lies beneath; and a smile will draw the tears
+from their secret cells."
+
+She smiled through her tears in Huldbrand's face, and a warm ray of
+his former love shot through his heart. She perceived this, pressed
+closer to him, and with a few tears of joy she went on.
+
+"As I found it impossible to get rid of our tormentor by words, I had
+nothing for it, but to shut the door against him. And his only access
+to us was that fountain. He has quarrelled with the other fountain
+spirits in the surrounding valleys, and it is much lower down the
+Danube, below the junction of some friends with the great river, that
+his power begins again. Therefore I stopped the mouth of our fountain,
+and inscribed the stone with characters which cripple the might of my
+restless uncle; so that he can no longer cross your path, or mine, or
+Bertalda's. Men can indeed lift the stone off as easily as ever; the
+inscription has no power over them. So you are free to comply with
+Bertalda's wish; but indeed, she little knows what she asks. Against
+her the wild Kuehleborn has a most particular spite, and if some of his
+forebodings were to come true, (as they might, without her intending
+any harm) O, dearest, even thou wert not free from danger!"
+
+Huldbrand deeply felt the generosity of his noble-minded wife, in so
+zealously shutting out her formidable protector, even when reviled by
+Bertalda for so doing. He clasped her fondly in his arms, and said
+with much emotion, "The stone shall remain; and everything shall be
+done as thou wishest, now and hereafter, my sweetest Undine."
+
+Scarce could she trust these words of love, after so dreary an
+estrangement; she returned his caresses with joyful but timid
+gratitude, and at length said, "My own dear love, as you are so
+exceedingly kind to me to-day, may I ask you to promise one thing?
+Herein you are like the summer: is he not most glorious when he decks
+his brows with thunders, and frowns upon us from his throne of clouds?
+So it is when your eyes flash lightning; it becomes you well,
+although in my weakness I may often shed a tear at it. Only--if you
+would promise to refrain from it when we are sailing, or even near any
+water. For there, you see, my relations have a right to control me.
+They might relentlessly tear me from you in their wrath, fancying that
+there is an insult offered to one of their race; and I should be
+doomed to spend the rest of my life in the crystal palaces below,
+without ever coming to you; or if they did send me up again--oh
+Heaven, that would be far worse! No, no, my best beloved; you will not
+let it come to that, if you love your poor Undine."
+
+He solemnly promised to do as she asked him, and they returned to the
+saloon, quite restored to comfort and peace. They met Bertalda,
+followed by a few labourers whom she had sent for, and she said in a
+tone of bitterness that had grown common with her of late, "So, now
+your private consultation is over, and we may have the stone taken up.
+Make haste, you people, and do it for me." But Huldbrand, incensed at
+her arrogance, said shortly and decidedly, "The stone shall not be
+touched," and he then reproved Bertalda for her rudeness to his wife;
+upon which the labourers walked off, exulting secretly, while Bertalda
+hurried away to her chamber, pale and disturbed.
+
+The hour of supper came, and they waited in vain for Bertalda. A
+message was sent to her; the servants found her room empty, and
+brought back only a sealed letter directed to the Knight. He opened it
+with trepidation and read, "I feel with shame that I am only a
+fisherman's daughter. Having forgotten it a moment, I will expiate my
+crime in the wretched hut of my parents. Live happy with your
+beautiful wife!"
+
+Undine was sincerely grieved; she entreated Huldbrand to pursue their
+friend at once, and bring her back with him. Alas! there was little
+need of entreaty. His passion for Bertalda returned with fresh
+violence; he searched the castle all over, asking everyone if they
+could tell him in what direction the fair one had fled. He could
+discover nothing; and now he had mounted his horse in the court, and
+stood ready to set forth, and try the route by which he had brought
+Bertalda to the castle. A peasant boy just then came up, saying that
+he had met the lady riding toward the Black Valley. Like a shot the
+Knight darted through the gate, and took that direction, without
+heeding Undine's anxious cries from a window: "To the Black Valley?
+oh, not there! Huldbrand, not there! Or take me with you for God's
+sake!" Finding it vain to cry, she had her white palfrey saddled in
+all haste, and galloped after her husband, without allowing anyone to
+attend her.
+
+
+XIV.--HOW BERTALDA DROVE HOME WITH THE KNIGHT
+
+The Black Valley lay among the deepest recesses of the mountains. What
+it is called now none can tell. In those times it bore that name among
+the countrymen, on account of the deep gloom shed over it by many high
+trees, mostly pines. Even the brook which gushed down between the
+cliffs was tinged with black, and never sparkled like the merry
+streams from which nothing intercepts the blue of heaven. Now, in the
+dusk of twilight, it looked darker still as it gurgled between the
+rocks. The Knight spurred his horse along its banks, now fearing to
+lose ground in his pursuit, and now again, that he might overlook the
+fugitive in her hiding-place, if he hurried past too swiftly. He
+presently found himself far advanced in the valley, and hoped he must
+soon overtake her, if he were but in the right track. Then again, the
+thought that it might be a wrong one roused the keenest anxiety in
+his breast. Where was the tender Bertalda to lay her head, if he
+missed her in this bleak, stormy night, which was setting in, black
+and awful, upon the valley? And now he saw something white gleaming
+through the boughs, on the slope of the mountain; he took it for
+Bertalda's robe and made for it. But the horse started back, and
+reared so obstinately that Huldbrand, impatient of delay, and having
+already found him difficult to manage among the brambles of the
+thicket, dismounted, and fastened the foaming steed to a tree; he then
+felt his way through the bushes on foot. The boughs splashed his head
+and cheeks roughly with cold wet dew; far off, he heard the growl of
+thunder beyond the mountains, and the whole strange scene had such an
+effect upon him, that he became afraid of approaching the white
+figure, which he now saw lying on the ground at a short distance. And
+yet he could distinguish it to be a woman, dressed in long white
+garments like Bertalda's, asleep or in a swoon. He came close to her,
+made the boughs rustle, and his sword ring--but she stirred not.
+"Bertalda!" cried he; first gently, then louder and louder--in vain.
+When at length he shouted the beloved name with the whole strength of
+his lungs, a faint mocking echo returned it from the cavities of the
+rocks--"Bertalda!" but the sleeper awoke not. He bent over her; but
+the gloom of the valley and the shades of night prevented his
+discerning her features. At length, though kept back by some boding
+fears, he knelt down by her on the earth, and just then a flash of
+lightning lighted up the valley. He saw a hideous distorted face close
+to his own, and heard a hollow voice say, "Give me a kiss, thou sweet
+shepherd!" With a cry of horror Huldbrand started up, and the monster
+after him. "Go home!" it cried, "the bad spirits are abroad--go home!
+or I have you!" and its long white arm nearly grasped him. "Spiteful
+Kuehleborn," cried the Knight, taking courage, "what matters it, I know
+thee, foul spirit! There is a kiss for thee!" And he raised his sword
+furiously against the figure. But it dissolved, and a drenching shower
+made it sufficiently clear to the Knight what enemy he had
+encountered. "He would scare me away from Bertalda," said he aloud to
+himself; "he thinks he can subdue me by his absurd tricks, and make me
+leave the poor terrified maiden in his power, that he may wreak his
+vengeance upon her. But _that_ he never shall--wretched goblin! What
+power lies in a human breast when steeled by firm resolve, the
+contemptible juggler has yet to learn." And he felt the truth of his
+own words, and seemed to have nerved himself afresh by them. He
+thought, too, that fortune now began to aid him, for before he had got
+back to his horse again, he distinctly heard the piteous voice of
+Bertalda as if near at hand, borne toward him on the winds as their
+howling mingled with the thunder. Eagerly did he push on in that
+direction, and he found the trembling damsel was just attempting to
+climb the mountain's side, in order, at any risk, to get out of these
+awful shades.
+
+He met her affectionately and however proudly she might before have
+determined to hold out, she could not but rejoice at being rescued by
+her much-loved Huldbrand from the fearful solitude, and warmly invited
+to return to his cheerful home in the castle. She accompanied him with
+scarcely a word of reluctance, but was so exhausted, that the Knight
+felt much relieved when they had reached the horse in safety; he
+hastened to loose him, and would have placed his tender charge upon
+him, and walked by her side to guide her carefully through the
+dangerous shades. But Kuehleborn's mad pranks had driven the horse
+quite wild. Hardly could the Knight himself have sprung upon the
+terrified plunging creature's back: to place the trembling Bertalda
+upon him was quite impossible; so they made up their minds to walk
+home. With his horse's bridle over one arm, Huldbrand supported his
+half-fainting companion on the other. Bertalda mustered what strength
+she could, in order the sooner to get beyond this dreaded valley, but
+fatigue weighed her down like lead, and every limb shook under her;
+partly from the recollection of all she had already suffered from
+Kuehleborn's spite, and partly from terror at the continued crashing of
+the tempest through the mountain forests.
+
+At length she slid down from her protector's arm, and sinking on the
+moss, she said: "Leave me to die here, noble Huldbrand; I reap the
+punishment of my folly, and must sink under this load of fatigue and
+anguish."--"Never, my precious friend, never will I forsake you,"
+cried Huldbrand, vainly striving to curb his raging steed, who was now
+beginning to start and plunge worse than ever: the Knight contrived to
+keep him at some distance from the exhausted maiden, so as to save her
+the terror of seeing him near her. But no sooner had he withdrawn
+himself and the wild animal a few steps, than she began to call him
+back in the most piteous manner, thinking he was indeed going to
+desert her in this horrible wilderness. He was quite at a loss what to
+do: gladly would he have let the horse gallop away in the darkness and
+expend his wild fury, but that he feared he might rush down upon the
+very spot where Bertalda lay.
+
+In this extremity of distress, it gave him unspeakable comfort to
+descry a wagon slowly descending the stony road behind him. He called
+out for help: a man's voice replied telling him to have patience, but
+promising to come to his aid; soon two white horses became visible
+through the thicket, and next the white smock-frock of the wagoner,
+and a large sheet of white linen that covered his goods inside. "Ho,
+stop!" cried the man, and the obedient horses stood still. "I see well
+enough," said he, "what ails the beast. When first I came through
+these parts my horses were just as troublesome; because there is a
+wicked water-sprite living hard by, who takes delight in making them
+play tricks. But I know a charm for this; if you will give me leave to
+whisper it in your horse's ear, you will see him as quiet as mine
+yonder in a moment."--"Try your charm, if it will do any good!" said
+the impatient Knight. The driver pulled the unruly horse's head toward
+him, and whispered a couple of words in his ear. At once the animal
+stood still, tamed and pacified, and showed no remains of his former
+fury but by panting and snorting, as if he still chafed inwardly. This
+was no time for Huldbrand to inquire how it had been done. He agreed
+with the wagoner that Bertalda should be taken into the wagon, which
+by his account was loaded with bales of soft cotton, and conveyed to
+the Castle of Ringstetten, while the Knight followed on horseback. But
+his horse seemed too much spent by his former violence to be able to
+carry his master so far, and the man persuaded Huldbrand to get into
+the wagon with Bertalda. The horse was to be fastened behind. "We
+shall go down hill," said the man, "and that is light work for my
+horses." The Knight placed himself by Bertalda, his horse quietly
+followed them, and the driver walked by steadily and carefully.
+
+In the deep stillness of night, while the storm growled more and more
+distant, and in the consciousness of safety and easy progress,
+Huldbrand and Bertalda insensibly got into confidential discourse. He
+tenderly reproached her for having so hastily fled; she excused
+herself with bashful emotions, and through all she said it appeared
+most clearly that her heart was all his own. Huldbrand was too much
+engrossed by the expression of her words to attend to their apparent
+meaning, and he only replied to the former. Upon this, the wagoner
+cried out in a voice that rent the air, "Now my horses, up with you;
+show us what you are made of, my fine fellows." The Knight put out his
+head and saw the horses treading or rather swimming through the
+foaming waters, while the wheels whirled loudly and rapidly like those
+of a water-mill, and the wagoner was standing upon the top of his
+wagon, overlooking the floods. "Why, what road is this? It will take
+us into the middle of the stream," cried Huldbrand. "No, sir," cried
+the driver laughing; "it is just the other way. The stream is coming
+into the middle of the road. Look round, and see how it is all
+flooded."
+
+In fact, the whole valley was now heaving with waves, that had swollen
+rapidly to a great height. "This must be Kuehleborn, the wicked sprite,
+trying to drown us!" cried the Knight. "Have you no charm to keep him
+off, friend?"--"I do know of one," said the driver, "but I can't and
+won't make use of it, till you know who I am."--"Is this a time for
+riddles?" shouted the Knight; "the flood is rising every moment, and
+what care I to know who you are?"--"It rather concerns you, however,
+to know," said the driver, "for I am Kuehleborn." And he grinned
+hideously into the wagon--which was now a wagon no longer, nor were
+the horses horses; but all dissolved into foaming waves; the wagoner
+himself shot up into a giant Waterspout, bore down the struggling
+horse into the flood, and, towering over the heads of the hapless
+pair, till he had swelled into a watery fountain, he would have
+swallowed them up the next moment.
+
+But now the sweet voice of Undine was heard above the wild uproar;
+the moon shone out between the clouds, and at the same instant Undine
+came into sight, upon the high grounds above them. She addressed
+Kuehleborn in a commanding tone, the huge wave laid itself down,
+muttering and murmuring; the waters rippled gently away in the moon's
+soft light, and Undine alighted like a white dove from her airy
+height, and led them to a soft green spot on the hillside, where she
+refreshed their jaded spirits with choice food. She then helped
+Bertalda to mount her own white palfrey, and at length they all three
+reached the Castle of Ringstetten in safety.
+
+
+XV.--THE TRIP TO VIENNA
+
+For some time after this adventure they led a quiet and peaceful life
+in the castle. The Knight was deeply touched by his wife's angelic
+goodness, so signally displayed by her pursuing and saving them in the
+Black Valley, where their lives were threatened by Kuehleborn. Undine
+herself was happy in the peace of an approving conscience; besides
+that, many a gleam of hope now brightened her path, as her husband's
+love and confidence seemed to revive; Bertalda meanwhile was grateful,
+modest, and timid, without claiming any merit for being so. If either
+of her companions alluded to the sealing up of the fountain, or the
+adventures in the Black Valley, she would implore them to spare her on
+those subjects, because she could not think of the fountain without a
+blush, nor the valley without a shudder. She was therefore told
+nothing further; indeed, what would have been the use of enlightening
+her? Nothing could add to the peace and happiness which had taken up
+their abode in the Castle of Ringstetten; they enjoyed the present in
+full security, and the future lay before them, all blooming with fair
+fruits and flowers.
+
+The winter had gone by without any interruption to their social
+comfort; and spring, with her young green shoots and bright blue
+skies, began to smile upon men; their hearts felt light, like the
+young season, and from its returning birds of passage, they caught a
+fancy to travel. One day as they were walking together near the
+sources of the Danube, Huldbrand fell into talk about the glories of
+that noble river, how proudly he flowed on, through fruitful lands, to
+the spot where the majestic city of Vienna crowned his banks, and how
+every mile of his course was marked by fresh grandeur and beauty. "How
+delightful it would be to follow his course down to Vienna!" cried
+Bertalda; but instantly relapsing into her timid, chastened manner,
+she blushed and was silent. This touched Undine, and in her eagerness
+to give her friend pleasure, she said: "And why should we not take the
+trip?" Bertalda jumped for joy, and their fancy began to paint this
+pleasant recreation in the brightest colours. Huldbrand encouraged
+them cheerfully, but whispered once to Undine: "But, should not we get
+within Kuehleborn's power again, down there?"--"Let him come," said
+she, laughing; "I shall be with you, and in my presence he durst not
+attempt any mischief."
+
+So the only possible objection seemed removed and they prepared for
+departure, and were soon sailing along, full of spirit and of gay
+hopes. But, O Man! it is not for thee to wonder when the course of
+events differs widely from the paintings of thy fancy. The treacherous
+foe, that lures us to our ruin, lulls his victim to rest with sweet
+music and golden dreams. Our guardian angel, on the contrary, will
+often rouse us by a sharp and awakening blow.
+
+The first days they spent on the Danube were days of extraordinary
+enjoyment. The further they floated down the proud stream the nobler
+and fairer grew the prospect. But, just as they had reached a most
+lovely district, the first sight of which had promised them great
+delight, the unruly Kuehleborn began openly to give signs of his
+presence and power. At first they were only sportive tricks, because,
+whenever he ruffled the stream and raised the wind, Undine repressed
+him by a word or two, and made him again subside at once; but his
+attempts soon began again, and again, Undine was obliged to warn him
+off; so that the pleasure of the little party was grievously
+disturbed. To make things worse, the watermen would mutter many a dark
+surmise into each other's ears, and cast strange looks at the three
+gentlefolks, whose very servants began to feel suspicion, and to show
+distrust of their lord. Huldbrand said to himself more than once,
+"This comes of uniting with other than one's like: a son of earth may
+not marry a wondrous maid of ocean." To justify himself (as we all
+love to do) he would add, "But I did not know she was a maid of ocean.
+If I am to be pursued and fettered wherever I go by the mad freaks of
+her relations, mine is the misfortune, not the fault." Such
+reflections somewhat checked his self-reproaches; but they made him
+the more disposed to accuse, nay, even to hate Undine. Already he
+began to scowl upon her, and the poor wife understood but too well his
+meaning. Exhausted by this, and by her constant exertions against
+Kuehleborn, she sank back one evening in the boat, and was lulled by
+its gentle motion into a deep sleep.
+
+But no sooner were her eyes closed, than everyone in the boat thought
+he saw, just opposite his own eyes, a terrific human head rising above
+the water; not like the head of a swimmer, but planted upright on the
+surface of the river, and keeping pace with the boat. Each turned to
+his neighbour to show him the cause of his terror, and found him
+looking equally frightened, but pointing in a different direction,
+where the half-laughing, half-scowling goblin met his eyes. When at
+length they tried to explain the matter to each other, crying out,
+"Look there; no, there!" each of them suddenly perceived the other's
+phantom, and the water round the boat appeared all alive with ghastly
+monsters. The cry which burst from every mouth awakened Undine. Before
+the light of her beaming eyes the horde of misshapen faces vanished.
+But Huldbrand was quite exasperated by these fiendish tricks and would
+have burst into loud imprecations, had not Undine whispered in the
+most beseeching manner, "For God's sake, my own lord, be patient now;
+remember we are on the water." The Knight kept down his anger, and
+soon sank into thought. Presently Undine whispered to him: "My love,
+had not we better give up the foolish journey, and go home to
+Ringstetten in comfort?" But Huldbrand muttered angrily, "Then I am to
+be kept a prisoner in my own castle? and even there I may not breathe
+freely unless the fountain is sealed up? Would to Heaven the absurd
+connection"--But Undine pressed her soft hand gently upon his lips.
+And he held his peace, and mused upon all she had previously told him.
+
+In the meantime, Bertalda had yielded herself up to many and strange
+reflections. She knew something of Undine's origin, but not all! and
+Kuehleborn in particular was only a fearful but vague image in her
+mind; she had not even once heard his name. And as she pondered these
+wonderful subjects, she half unconsciously took off a golden necklace
+which Huldbrand had bought for her of a travelling jeweller a few days
+before; she held it close to the surface of the river playing with
+it, and dreamily watching the golden gleam that it shed on the glassy
+water. Suddenly a large hand came up out of the Danube, snatched the
+necklace, and ducked under with it. Bertalda screamed aloud, and was
+answered by a laugh of scorn from the depths below. And now the Knight
+could contain himself no longer. Starting up, he gave loose to his
+fury, loading with imprecations those who chose to break into his
+family and private life, and challenging them--were they goblins or
+sirens--to meet his good sword. Bertalda continued to weep over the
+loss of her beloved jewel, and her tears were as oil to the flames of
+his wrath, while Undine kept her hand dipped into the water with a
+ceaseless low murmur, only once or twice interrupting her mysterious
+whispers to say to her husband in tones of entreaty, "Dearest love,
+speak not roughly to me here; say whatever you will, only spare me
+here; you know why!" and he still restrained his tongue (which
+stammered with passion) from saying a word directly against her. She
+soon drew her hand from under the water, bringing up a beautiful coral
+necklace whose glitter dazzled them all. "Take it," said she, offering
+it kindly to Bertalda; "I have sent for this, instead of the one you
+lost; do not grieve any more, my poor child." But Huldbrand darted
+forward, snatched the shining gift from Undine's hand, hurled it again
+into the water, and roared furiously, "So you still have intercourse
+with them? In the name of sorcery, go back to them with all your
+baubles, and leave us men in peace, witch as you are!" With eyes
+aghast, yet streaming with tears, poor Undine gazed at him, still
+holding out the hand which had so lovingly presented to Bertalda the
+bright jewel. Then she wept more and more, like a sorely injured,
+innocent child. And at length she said faintly, "Farewell, my dearest;
+farewell! They shall not lay a finger on thee; only be true to me,
+that I may still guard thee from them. But I, alas! I must be gone;
+all this bright morning of life is over. Woe, woe is me! what hast
+thou done? woe, woe!" And she slipped out of the boat and passed away.
+Whether she went down into the river, or flowed away with it, none
+could tell; it was like both and yet like neither. She soon mingled
+with the waters of the Danube, and nothing was to be heard but the
+sobbing whispers of the stream as it washed against the boat, seeming
+to say distinctly, "Woe, woe! Oh be true to me! woe, woe!"
+
+Huldbrand lay flat in the boat, drowned in tears, till a deep swoon
+came to the unhappy man's relief, and steeped him in oblivion.
+
+
+XVI.--OF WHAT BEFELL HULDBRAND AFTERWARDS
+
+Shall we say, Alas, or thank God, that our grief is so often
+transient? I speak of such grief as has its source in the wellsprings
+of life itself, and seems so identified with our lost friend, as
+almost to fill up the void he has left; and his hallowed image seems
+fixed within the sanctuary of our soul, until the signal of our
+release comes, and sets us free to join him! In truth, a good man will
+not suffer this sanctuary to be disturbed; yet even with him, it is
+not the first, the all-engrossing sorrow which abides. New objects
+will intermingle, and we are compelled to draw from our grief itself a
+fresh proof of the perishableness of earthly things: alas, then, that
+our grief is transient!
+
+So it was with the Lord of Ringstetten; whether for his weal or woe,
+the sequel of this story will show us. At first, he could do nothing
+but weep abundantly, as his poor kind Undine had wept when he snatched
+from her the beautiful gift, which she thought would have comforted
+and pleased them so much. He would then stretch out his hand as she
+had done, and burst into tears afresh, like her. He secretly hoped
+that he might end by altogether dissolving in tears: and are there not
+many whose minds have been visited by the same painfully pleasing
+thought, at some season of great sorrow? Bertalda wept with him, and
+they lived quietly together at Ringstetten a long while, cherishing
+the memory of Undine, and seeming to have forgotten their own previous
+attachment. Moreover, the gentle Undine often appeared to Huldbrand in
+his dreams; she would caress him meekly and fondly, and depart again
+with tearful resignation, so that when he awoke, he doubted whose
+tears they were that bedewed his face--were they hers, or only his
+own?
+
+But as time went on these visions became less frequent, and the
+Knight's grief milder; still he might perhaps have spent the rest of
+his days contentedly, devoting himself to the memory of Undine, and
+keeping it alive by talking of her, had not the old Fisherman
+unexpectedly made his appearance, and laid his serious commands upon
+Bertalda, his daughter, to return home with him. The news of Undine's
+disappearance had reached him, and he would no longer suffer Bertalda
+to remain in the castle alone with its lord. "I do not ask whether my
+daughter cares for me or not," said he; "her character is at stake,
+and where that is the case, nothing else is worth considering."
+
+This summons from the old man, and the prospect of utter loneliness
+amid the halls and long galleries of the castle after Bertalda's
+departure, revived in Huldbrand's heart the feeling that had lain
+dormant, and as it were buried under his mourning for Undine, namely,
+his love for the fair Bertalda. The Fisherman had many objections to
+their marriage; Undine had been very dear to the old man and he
+thought it hardly certain yet that his lost darling was really dead.
+But, if her corpse were indeed lying stiff and cold in the bed of the
+Danube, or floating down its stream to the distant ocean, then
+Bertalda ought to reproach herself for her death, and it ill became
+her to take the place of her poor victim. However, the Fisherman was
+very fond of Huldbrand also; the entreaties of his daughter, who was
+now grown much more gentle and submissive, had their effect, and it
+seems that he did yield his consent at last; for he remained peaceably
+at the castle, and an express was sent for Father Heilmann, who in
+earlier, happier days had blessed Undine's and Huldbrand's union, that
+he might officiate at the Knight's second marriage.
+
+No sooner had the holy man read the Lord of Ringstetten's letter than
+he set forth on his way thither, with far greater speed than the
+messenger had used to reach him. If his straining haste took away his
+breath, or he felt his aged limbs ache with fatigue, he would say to
+himself: "I may be in time to prevent a wicked deed; sink not till
+thou hast reached the goal, my withered frame!" And so he exerted
+himself afresh, and pushed on, without flagging or halting, till late
+one evening he entered the shady court of Ringstetten.
+
+The lovers were sitting hand in hand under a tree, with the thoughtful
+old man near them; as soon as they saw Father Heilmann, they rose
+eagerly and advanced to meet him. But he, scarcely noticing their
+civilities, begged the Knight to come with him into the castle. As he
+stared at this request, and hesitated to comply, the pious old Priest
+said, "Why, indeed, should I speak to you alone, my Lord of
+Ringstetten? What I have to say equally concerns the Fisherman and
+Bertalda; and as they must sooner or later know it, it had better be
+said now. How can you be certain, Lord Huldbrand, that your own wife
+is indeed dead? For myself, I can hardly think so. I will not venture
+to speak of things relating to her wondrous nature; in truth I have
+no clear knowledge about it. But a godly and faithful wife she proved
+herself, beyond all about. And these fourteen nights has she come to
+my bedside in dreams, wringing her poor hands in anguish, and sighing
+out, 'Oh stop him, dear father! I am yet alive! Oh save his life! Oh
+save his soul!' I understood not the meaning of the vision till your
+messenger came; and I have now hastened hither, not to join but to
+part those hands, which may not be united in holy wedlock. Part from
+her, Huldbrand! Part from him, Bertalda! He belongs to another; see
+you not how his cheek turns pale at the thought of his departed wife?
+Those are not the looks of a bridegroom, and the spirit tells me this.
+If thou leavest him not now, there is joy for thee no more." They all
+three felt at the bottom of their hearts that Father Heilmann's words
+were true but they would not yield to them. Even the old Fisherman was
+so blinded as to think that what had been settled between them for so
+many days, could not now be relinquished. So they resisted the
+Priest's warnings, and urged the fulfilment of their wishes with
+headlong, gloomy determination, till Father Heilmann departed with a
+melancholy shake of the head, without accepting even for one night
+their proffered hospitalities, or tasting any of the refreshments they
+set before him. But Huldbrand persuaded himself that the old Priest
+was a weak dotard; and early next morning he sent to a monk from the
+nearest cloister, who readily promised to come and marry them in a few
+days.
+
+
+XVII.--THE KNIGHT'S DREAM
+
+The morning twilight was beginning to dawn, and the Knight lay
+half-awake on his couch. Whenever he dropped asleep he was scared by
+mysterious terrors, and started up as if sleep were peopled by
+phantoms. If he woke up in earnest, he felt himself fanned all around
+by what seemed like swans' wings, and soothed by watery airs, which
+lulled him back again into the half-unconscious, twilight state. At
+length he did fall asleep and fancied himself lifted by swans on their
+soft wings, and carried far away over lands and seas, all to the sound
+of their sweetest melody. "Swans singing! swans singing!" thought he
+continually; "is not that the strain of Death?" Presently he found
+himself hovering above a vast sea. A swan warbled in his ear that it
+was the Mediterranean; and as he looked down into the deep it became
+like clear crystal, transparent to the bottom. This rejoiced him much,
+for he could see Undine sitting in a brilliant hall of crystal.
+
+She was shedding tears, indeed, and looked sadly changed since the
+happy times which they had spent together at Ringstetten; happiest at
+first, but happy also a short time since, just before the fatal sail
+on the Danube. The contrast struck Huldbrand deeply; but Undine did
+not seem to be aware of his presence. Kuehleborn soon came up to her,
+and began rating her for weeping. She composed herself, and looked at
+him with a firmness and dignity, before which he almost quailed.
+"Though I am condemned to live under these deep waters," said she, "I
+have brought my soul with me; therefore my tears cannot be understood
+by thee. But to me they are blessings, like everything that belongs to
+a loving soul." He shook his head incredulously, and said, after a
+pause: "Nevertheless, niece, you are still subject to the laws of our
+element; and you know you must execute sentence of death upon him as
+soon as he marries again, and breaks faith with you."--"To this hour
+he is a widower," said Undine, "and loves and mourns me truly."--"Ah,
+but he will be bridegroom soon," said Kuehleborn with a sneer; "wait a
+couple of days only; and the marriage blessing will have been given,
+and you must go up and put the criminal to death."--"I cannot!"
+answered the smiling Undine. "I have had the fountain sealed up,
+against myself and my whole race." "But suppose he leaves his castle,"
+said Kuehleborn, "or forgets himself so far as to let them set the
+fountain 'free,' for he thinks mighty little of those matters."--"And
+that is why," said Undine, still smiling through her tears, "that is
+why his spirit hovers at this moment over the Mediterranean, and
+listens to our conversation as in a dream. I have contrived it on
+purpose, that he may take warning." On hearing this Kuehleborn looked
+up angrily at the Knight, scowled at him, stamped, and then shot
+upward through the waves like an arrow. His fury seemed to make him
+expand into a whale. Again the swans began to warble, to wave their
+wings, and to fly; the Knight felt himself borne high over alps and
+rivers, till he was deposited in the Castle of Ringstetten, and awoke
+in his bed.
+
+He did awake in his bed, just as one of his squires entered the room,
+and told him that Father Heilmann was still lingering near the castle;
+for he had found him the evening before in the forest, living in a
+shed he had made for himself with branches and moss. On being asked
+what he was staying for since he had refused to bless the betrothed
+couple? He answered, "It is not the wedded only who stand in need of
+prayer, and though I came not for the bridal, there may yet be work
+for me of another kind. We must be prepared for everything. Sometimes
+marriage and mourning are not so far apart; and he who does not
+wilfully close his eyes may perceive it." The Knight built all manner
+of strange conjectures upon these words, and upon his dream. But if
+once a man has formed a settled purpose, it is hard indeed to shake
+it. The end of this was, that their plans remained unchanged.
+
+
+XVIII.--OF THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND'S SECOND BRIDAL
+
+Were I to tell you how the wedding-day at Ringstetten passed, you
+might imagine yourself contemplating a glittering heap of gay objects,
+with a black crape thrown over them, through which the splendid
+pageant, instead of delighting the eye, would look like a mockery of
+all earthly joys. Not that the festive meeting was disturbed by any
+spectral apparitions: we have seen that the castle was safe from any
+intrusion of the malicious water-sprites. But the Knight, the
+Fisherman, and all the guests were haunted by a feeling that the chief
+person, the soul of the feast, was missing; and who was she but the
+gentle, beloved Undine? As often as they heard a door open, every eye
+turned involuntarily toward it, and when nothing ensued but the
+entrance of the steward with some more dishes, or of the cupbearer
+with a fresh supply of rich wine, the guests would look sad and blank,
+and the sparks of gayety kindled by the light jest or the cheerful
+discourse, were quenched in the damp of melancholy recollections. The
+bride was the most thoughtless, and consequently the most cheerful
+person present; but even she, at moments, felt it unnatural to be
+sitting at the head of the table, decked out in her wreath of green
+and her embroidery of gold, while Undine's corpse was lying cold and
+stiff in the bed of the Danube, or floating down its stream to the
+ocean. For, ever since her father had used these words, they had been
+ringing in her ears, and to-day especially they pursued her without
+ceasing.
+
+The party broke up before night had closed in; not, as usual,
+dispersed by the eager impatience of the bridegroom to be alone with
+his bride; but dropping off listlessly, as a general gloom spread over
+the assembly; Bertalda was followed to her dressing-room by her women
+only, and the Knight by his pages. At this gloomy feast, there was no
+question of the gay and sportive train of bridesmaids and young men,
+who usually attend the wedded pair.
+
+Bertalda tried to call up brighter thoughts; she bade her women
+display before her a splendid set of jewels, the gift of Huldbrand,
+together with her richest robes and veils, that she might select the
+gayest and handsomest dress for the morrow. Her maids seized the
+opportunity of wishing their young mistress all manner of joy, nor did
+they fail to extol the beauty of the bride to the skies. Bertalda,
+however, glanced at herself in the glass, and sighed: "Ah, but look at
+the freckles just here, on my throat!" They looked and found it was
+indeed so, but called them beauty spots that would only enhance the
+fairness of her delicate skin. Bertalda shook her head, and replied,
+"Still it is a blemish, and I once might have cured it!" said she with
+a deep sigh. "But the fountain in the court is stopped up--that
+fountain which used to supply me with precious, beautifying water. If
+I could but get one jugful to-day!"--"Is that all?" cried an
+obsequious attendant, and slipped out of the room. "Why, she will not
+be so mad," asked Bertalda in a tone of complacent surprise, "as to
+make them raise the stone this very night?" And now she heard men's
+footsteps crossing the court; and on looking down from her window, she
+saw the officious handmaid conducting them straight to the fountain;
+they carried levers and other tools upon their shoulders. "Well, it
+is my will to be sure," said Bertalda, smiling, "provided they are not
+too long about it." And, elated by the thought that a hint from her
+could now effect what had once been denied to her entreaties, she
+watched the progress of the work in the moonlit court below.
+
+The men began straining themselves to lift the huge stone;
+occasionally a sigh was heard, as someone recollected that they were
+now reversing their dear lady's commands. But the task proved lighter
+than they had expected. Some power from beneath seemed to second their
+efforts, and help the stone upward. "Why!" said the astonished workmen
+to each other, "it feels as if the spring below had turned into a
+waterspout." More and more did the stone heave, till, without any
+impulse from the men it rolled heavily along the pavement with a
+hollow sound. But, from the mouth of the spring arose, slowly and
+solemnly, what looked like a column of water; at first they thought
+so, but presently saw that it was no waterspout, but the figure of a
+pale woman, veiled in white. She was weeping abundantly, wringing her
+hands and clasping them over her head, while she proceeded with slow
+and measured step toward the castle. The crowd of servants fell back
+from the spot; while, pale and aghast, the bride and her women looked
+on from the window.
+
+When the figure had arrived just under that window, she raised her
+tearful face for a moment, and Bertalda thought she recognised
+Undine's pale features through the veil. The shadowy form moved on
+slowly and reluctantly, like one sent to execution. Bertalda screamed
+out that the Knight must be called; no one durst stir a foot, and the
+bride herself kept silence, frightened at the sound of her own voice.
+
+While these remained at the window, as if rooted to the spot, the
+mysterious visitor had entered the castle, and passed up the
+well-known stairs, and through the familiar rooms, still weeping
+silently. Alas! how differently had she trodden those floors in days
+gone by!
+
+The Knight had now dismissed his train; half-undressed, and in a
+dejected mood, he was standing near a large mirror, by the light of a
+dim taper. He heard the door tapped by a soft, soft touch. It was thus
+Undine had been wont to knock, when she meant to steal upon him
+playfully. "It is all fancy!" thought he. "The bridal bed awaits
+me."--"Yes, but it is a cold one," said a weeping voice from without;
+and the mirror then showed him the door opening slowly, and the white
+form coming in, and closing the door gently behind her. "They have
+opened the mouth of the spring," murmured she; "and now I am come, and
+now must thou die." His beating heart told him this was indeed true;
+but he pressed his hands over his eyes, and said: "Do not bewilder me
+with terror in my last moments. If thy veil conceals the features of a
+spectre, hide them from me still, and let me die in peace."--"Alas!"
+rejoined the forlorn one, "wilt thou not look upon me once again? I am
+fair, as when thou didst woo me on the promontory."--"Oh, could that
+be true!" sighed Huldbrand, "and if I might die in thy embrace!"--"Be
+it so, my dearest," said she. And she raised her veil, and the
+heavenly radiance of her sweet countenance beamed upon him.
+
+Trembling, at once with love and awe, the Knight approached her; she
+received him with a tender embrace; but instead of relaxing her hold,
+she pressed him more closely to her heart, and wept as if her soul
+would pour itself out. Drowned in her tears and his own, Huldbrand
+felt his heart sink within him, and at last he fell lifeless from the
+fond arms of Undine upon his pillow.
+
+"I have wept him to death!" said she to the pages, whom she passed in
+the ante-chamber; and she glided slowly through the crowd, and went
+back to the fountain.
+
+
+XIX.--HOW THE KNIGHT HULDBRAND WAS INTERRED
+
+Father Heilmann had returned to the castle, as soon as he heard of the
+Lord of Ringstetten's death, and he appeared there just after the
+monk, who had married the hapless pair, had fled full of alarm and
+horror. "It is well," answered Heilmann, when told this: "now is the
+time for my office; I want no assistant." He addressed spiritual
+exhortations to the widowed bride, but little impression could be made
+on so worldly and thoughtless a mind. The old Fisherman, although
+grieved to the heart, resigned himself more readily to the awful
+dispensation; and when Bertalda kept calling Undine a witch and a
+murderer, the old man calmly answered: "The stroke could not be turned
+away. For my part, I see only the hand of God therein; and none
+grieved more deeply over Huldbrand's sentence, than she who was doomed
+to inflict it, the poor forsaken Undine!" And he helped to arrange the
+funeral ceremonies in a manner suitable to the high rank of the dead.
+He was to be buried in a neighbouring hamlet, whose churchyard
+contained the graves of all his ancestors, and which he had himself
+enriched with many noble gifts. His helmet and coat of arms lay upon
+the coffin, about to be lowered into earth with his mortal remains;
+for Lord Huldbrand of Ringstetten was the last of his race.
+
+The mourners began their dismal procession, and the sound of their
+solemn dirge rose into the calm blue depths of heaven. Heilmann walked
+first, bearing on high a crucifix, and the bereaved Bertalda followed
+leaning on her aged father. Suddenly, amid the crowd of mourners who
+composed the widow's train, appeared a snow-white figure, deeply
+veiled, with hands uplifted in an attitude of intense grief. Those
+that stood near her felt a shudder creep over them; they shrank back,
+and thus increased the alarm of those whom the stranger next
+approached, so that confusion gradually spread itself through the
+whole train. Here and there was to be found a soldier bold enough to
+address the figure, and attempt to drive her away; but she always
+eluded their grasp, and the next moment reappeared among the rest,
+moving along with slow and solemn step. At length, when the attendants
+had all fallen back, she found herself close behind Bertalda, and now
+slackened her pace to the very slowest measure, so that the widow was
+not aware of her presence. No one disturbed her again, while she
+meekly and reverently glided on behind her.
+
+So they advanced till they reached the churchyard, when the whole
+procession formed a circle round the open grave. Bertalda then
+discovered the unbidden guest, and half-angry, half-frightened, she
+forbade her to come near the Knight's resting-place. But the veiled
+form gently shook her head, and extended her hands in humble entreaty;
+this gesture reminded Bertalda of poor Undine, when she gave her the
+coral necklace on the Danube, and she could not but weep. Father
+Heilmann enjoined silence; for they had begun to heap earth over the
+grave, and were about to offer up solemn prayers around it. Bertalda
+knelt down in silence, and all her followers did the same. When they
+rose, lo, the white form had vanished! and on the spot where she had
+knelt, a bright silvery brook now gushed out of the turf, and flowed
+round the Knight's tomb, till it had almost wholly encircled it; then
+it ran further on, and emptied itself into a shady pool which bounded
+one side of the churchyard. From that time forth, the villagers are
+said to have shown travellers this clear spring, and they still
+believe it to be the poor forsaken Undine, who continues thus to twine
+her arms round her beloved lord.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE STORY OF RUTH
+
+
+It came to pass, in the days when the judges ruled, that there was a
+famine in the land. And a certain man of Bethlehem-judah went to
+sojourn in the country of Moab--he and his wife and his two sons. And
+the name of the man was Elimelech, and the name of his wife Naomi, and
+the names of his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, Ephrathites of
+Bethlehem-judah. And they came into the country of Moab, and continued
+there.
+
+And Elimelech, Naomi's husband, died; and she was left and her two
+sons. And they took them wives of the women of Moab: the name of the
+one was Orpah, and the name of the other was Ruth. And they dwelled
+there about ten years.
+
+And Mahlon and Chilion died also, both of them; and the woman was left
+of her two sons and her husband. Then she arose with her
+daughters-in-law, that she might return from the country of Moab; for
+she had heard in the country of Moab how that the Lord had visited his
+people in giving them bread. Wherefore she went forth out of the place
+where she was, and her two daughters-in-law with her; and they went on
+the way to return unto the land of Judah.
+
+And Naomi said unto her two daughters-in-law, "Go, return each to her
+mother's house. The Lord deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with
+the dead and with me. The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each
+of you in this house of her husband." Then she kissed them.
+
+And they lifted up their voice and wept; and they said unto her,
+"Surely, we will return with thee unto thy people."
+
+And Naomi said, "Turn again, my daughters; why will ye go with me?
+Turn again, my daughters, go your way."
+
+And they lifted up their voice and wept again. And Orpah kissed her
+mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her.
+
+And she said, "Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people
+and unto her gods! Return thou after thy sister-in-law."
+
+And Ruth said, "Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from
+following after thee. For whither thou goest I will go, and where thou
+lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
+God: where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord
+do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."
+
+When Naomi saw that Ruth was steadfastly minded to go with her, then
+she left speaking unto her. So they two went until they came to
+Bethlehem.
+
+And it came to pass, when they were come to Bethlehem, that all the
+city was moved about them, and they said, "Is this Naomi?"
+
+And she said unto them, "Call me not Naomi [pleasant], call me Mara
+[bitter]; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went
+out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty. Why then call
+ye me Naomi, seeing that the Lord hath testified against me, and the
+Almighty hath afflicted me?"
+
+So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter-in-law, with
+her, which returned out of the country of Moab; and they came to
+Bethlehem in the beginning of barley-harvest.
+
+And Naomi had a kinsman of her husband's, a mighty man of wealth, of
+the family of Elimelech, and his name was Boaz.
+
+And Ruth said unto Naomi: "Let me now go to the field and glean ears
+of corn after him in whose sight I shall find grace."
+
+And Naomi said unto her, "Go, my daughter."
+
+And she went, and came, and gleaned in the field after the reapers;
+and her hap was to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz,
+who was of the kindred of Elimelech.
+
+And, behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem and said unto the reapers, "The
+Lord be with you!"
+
+And they answered him, "The Lord bless thee!"
+
+Then said Boaz unto his servant that was set over the reapers, "Whose
+damsel is this?"
+
+And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, "It
+is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country
+of Moab. And she said, 'I pray you, let me glean and gather after the
+reapers among the sheaves.' So she came, and hath continued even from
+the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house."
+
+Then said Boaz unto Ruth, "Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to
+glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by
+my maidens; let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go
+thou after them. Have I not charged the young men that they shall not
+touch thee? And when thou art a thirst, go unto the vessels, and drink
+of that which the young men have drawn."
+
+Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground, and said
+unto him, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest
+take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?"
+
+And Boaz answered and said unto her, "It hath fully been showed me,
+all that thou hast done unto thy mother-in-law, since the death of
+thine husband; and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother and
+the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou
+knewest not heretofore. The Lord recompense thy work, and a full
+reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou
+art come to trust."
+
+Then she said, "Let me find favour in thy sight, my lord; for that
+thou hast comforted me, and for that thou hast spoken friendly unto
+thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens."
+
+And Boaz said unto her at meal-time, "Come thou hither, and eat of the
+bread and dip thy morsel in the vinegar."
+
+And she sat beside the reapers, and he reached her parched corn; and
+she did eat, and was sufficed, and left.
+
+And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men,
+saying, "Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not;
+and let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her, and leave
+them that she may glean them, and rebuke her not."
+
+So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had
+gleaned, and it was about an ephah of barley. And she took it up and
+went into the city; and her mother-in-law saw what she had gleaned,
+and she brought forth and gave to her that she had reserved after she
+was sufficed.
+
+And her mother-in-law said unto her, "Where hast thou gleaned to-day,
+and where wroughtest thou? Blessed be he that did take knowledge of
+thee!"
+
+And she showed her mother-in-law with whom she had wrought, and said,
+"The man's name with whom I wrought to-day is Boaz."
+
+And Naomi said unto her daughter-in-law, "Blessed be he of the Lord,
+who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead. The
+man is near of kin unto us; one of our next kinsmen."
+
+And Ruth the Moabitess said, "He said unto me also, 'Thou shalt keep
+fast by my young men until they have ended all my harvest.'"
+
+And Naomi said unto Ruth her daughter-in-law, "It is good, my
+daughter, that thou go out with his maidens, that they meet thee not
+in any other field."
+
+So she kept fast by the maidens of Boaz to glean unto the end of
+barley-harvest and of wheat-harvest, and dwelt with her mother-in-law.
+
+Then Naomi her mother-in-law said unto her, "My daughter, shall I not
+seek rest for thee, that it may be well with thee? And now is not Boaz
+of our kindred, with whose maidens thou wast? Behold, he winnoweth
+barley to-night in the threshing-floor. Wash thyself, therefore, and
+anoint thee, and put thy raiment upon thee, and get thee down to the
+floor; but make not thyself known unto the man, until he shall have
+done eating and drinking. And it shall be, when he lieth down, that
+thou shalt mark the place where he shall lie; and thou shalt go in and
+uncover his feet and lay thee down; and he will tell thee what thou
+shalt do."
+
+And Ruth said unto her, "All that thou sayest unto me I will do." And
+she went down unto the floor, and did according to all that her
+mother-in-law bade her.
+
+And when Boaz had eaten and drunk, and his heart was merry, he went to
+lie down at the end of the heap of corn. And she came softly and
+uncovered his feet, and laid her down.
+
+And it came to pass at midnight, that the man was afraid, and turned
+himself; and behold! a woman lay at his feet. And he said, "Who art
+thou?"
+
+And she answered, "I am Ruth, thine handmaid. Spread therefore thy
+skirt over thine handmaid; for thou art a near kinsman."
+
+And he said, "Blessed be thou of the Lord, my daughter; for thou hast
+showed more kindness in the latter end than in the beginning; inasmuch
+as thou followedst not young men, whether poor or rich. And now, my
+daughter, fear not; I will do to thee all that thou requirest; for all
+the city of my people doth know that thou art a virtuous woman. And
+now it is true that I am thy near kinsman; howbeit, there is a kinsman
+nearer than I. Tarry this night, and it shall be, in the morning, that
+if he will perform unto thee the part of a kinsman, well; let him do
+the kinsman's part; but if he will not do the part of a kinsman to
+thee, then will I do the part of a kinsman to thee, as the Lord
+liveth. Lie down until the morning."
+
+And she lay at his feet until the morning. And she rose up before one
+could know another.
+
+And he said, "Let it not be known that a woman came into the floor."
+Also he said, "Bring the veil that thou hast upon thee and hold it."
+
+And when she held it he measured six measures of barley and laid it on
+her.
+
+And she went into the city, and when she came to her mother-in-law she
+said, "Who art thou, my daughter?"
+
+And she told her all that the man had done to her; and she said,
+"These six measures of barley gave he me; for he said to me, 'Go not
+empty unto thy mother-in-law.'"
+
+Then Naomi said, "Sit still, my daughter, until thou know how the
+matter will fall; for the man will not be in rest until he have
+finished the thing this day."
+
+Then went Boaz up to the gate, and sat him down there. And, behold,
+the kinsman of whom Boaz spake came by, unto whom he said, "Ho, such a
+one! turn aside, sit down here."
+
+And he turned aside, and sat down.
+
+And Boaz took ten men of the elders of the city, and said, "Sit ye
+down here."
+
+And they sat down.
+
+And he said unto the kinsman, "Naomi, that is come again out of the
+country of Moab, selleth a parcel of land which was our brother
+Elimelech's; and I thought to advertise thee, saying, 'Buy it before
+the inhabitants, and before the elders of my people. If thou wilt
+redeem it, redeem it; but if thou wilt not redeem it, then tell me,
+that I may know; for there is none to redeem it beside thee, and I am
+after thee.'"
+
+And he said, "I will redeem it."
+
+Then said Boaz, "What day thou buyest the field of the hand of Naomi,
+thou must buy it also of Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of the dead, to
+raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance."
+
+And the kinsman said, "I cannot redeem it for myself, lest I mar mine
+own inheritance. Redeem thou my right to thyself; for I cannot redeem
+it."
+
+Now this was the manner in former time in Israel, concerning redeeming
+and concerning changing, for to confirm all things: a man plucked off
+his shoe, and gave it to his neighbour; and this was a testimony in
+Israel. Therefore the kinsman said unto Boaz:
+
+"Buy it for thee." So he drew off his shoe.
+
+And Boaz said unto the elders and unto all the people, "Ye are
+witnesses this day, that I have bought all that was Elimelech's, and
+all that was Chilion's and Mahlon's at the hand of Naomi. Moreover,
+Ruth the Moabitess, the wife of Mahlon, have I purchased to be my
+wife, to raise up the name of the dead upon his inheritance, that the
+name of the dead be not cut off from among his brethren, and from the
+gate of his place: ye are witnesses this day."
+
+And all the people that were in the gate, and the elders, said: "We
+are witnesses. The Lord make the woman that is come into thine house
+like Rachel and like Leah, which two did build the house of Israel;
+and do thou worthily in Ephratah, and be famous in Bethlehem; and let
+thy house be like the house of Pharez, whom Tamar bare unto Judah, of
+the seed which the Lord shall give thee of this young woman."
+
+So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his wife.
+
+And Ruth bare a son. And the women said unto Naomi, "Blessed be the
+Lord, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that his
+name may be famous in Israel. And he shall be unto thee a restorer of
+thy life, and a nourisher of thine old age; for thy daughter-in-law,
+which loveth thee, which is better to thee than seven sons, hath borne
+him."
+
+And Naomi took the child, and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse
+unto it. And the women, her neighbours, gave it a name, saying, "There
+is a son born to Naomi"! and they called his name Obed.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE GREAT STONE FACE
+
+
+One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little
+boy sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone
+Face. They had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be
+seen, though miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its
+features.
+
+And what was the Great Stone Face?
+
+Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so
+spacious that It contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these
+good people dwelt in log-huts, with the black forest all around them,
+on the steep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in
+comfortable farmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle
+slopes or level surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were
+congregated into populous villages, where some wild, highland rivulet,
+tumbling down from its birthplace in the upper mountain region, had
+been caught and tamed by human cunning, and compelled to turn the
+machinery of cotton-factories. The inhabitants of this valley, in
+short, were numerous, and of many modes of life. But all of them,
+grown people and children, had a kind of familiarity with the Great
+Stone Face, although some possessed the gift of distinguishing this
+grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many of their neighbours.
+The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of
+majestic playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain
+by some immense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a
+position as, when viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble
+the features of the human countenance. It seemed as if an enormous
+giant, or a Titan, had sculptured his own likeness on the precipice.
+There was the broad arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in height;
+the nose, with its long bridge; and the vast lips, which, if they
+could have spoken, would have rolled their thunder accents from one
+end of the valley to the other. True it is, that if the spectator
+approached too near, he lost the outline of the gigantic visage, and
+could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic rocks, piled in
+chaotic ruin one upon another. Retracing his steps, however, the
+wondrous features would again be seen; and the farther he withdrew
+from them, the more like a human face, with all its original divinity
+intact did they appear; until, as it grew dim in the distance, with
+the clouds and glorified vapour of the mountains clustering about it,
+the Great Stone Face seemed positively to be alive.
+
+It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood
+with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were
+noble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were
+the glow of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its
+affections, and had room for more. It was an education only to look at
+it. According to the belief of many people, the valley owed much of
+its fertility to this benign aspect that was continually beaming over
+it, illuminating the clouds, and infusing its tenderness into the
+sunshine.
+
+As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their
+cottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it.
+The child's name was Ernest.
+
+"Mother," said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, "I wish
+that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must
+needs be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should
+love him dearly."
+
+"If an old prophecy should come to pass," answered his mother, "we may
+see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that."
+
+"What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?" eagerly inquired Ernest.
+"Pray tell me all about it!"
+
+So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her,
+when she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of
+things that were past, but of what was yet to come; a story,
+nevertheless, so very old, that even the Indians, who formerly
+inhabited this valley, had heard it from their forefathers, to whom,
+as they affirmed, it had been murmured by the mountain streams, and
+whispered by the wind among the tree-tops. The purport was, that, at
+some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, who was destined
+to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, and whose
+countenance, in manhood, should bear an exact resemblance to the Great
+Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise,
+in the ardour of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in
+this old prophecy. But others who had seen more of the world had
+watched and waited till they were weary, and had beheld no man with
+such a face, nor any man that proved to be much greater or nobler than
+his neighbours, concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all
+events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared.
+
+"O mother, dear mother!" cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his
+head, "I do hope that I shall live to see him!"
+
+His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it
+was wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So
+she only said to him, "Perhaps you may."
+
+And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was
+always in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He
+spent his childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was
+dutiful to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting
+her much with his little hands, and more with his loving heart. In
+this manner, from a happy yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a
+mild, quiet, unobtrusive boy, and sun-browned with labour in the
+fields, but with more intelligence brightening his aspect than is seen
+in many lads who have been taught at famous schools. Yet Ernest had
+had no teacher, save only that the Great Stone Face became one to him.
+When the toil of the day was over, he would gaze at it for hours,
+until he began to imagine that those vast features recognised him, and
+gave him a smile of kindness and encouragement, responsive to his own
+look of veneration. We must not take upon us to affirm that this was a
+mistake, although the Face may have looked no more kindly at Ernest
+than at all the world beside. But the secret was, that the boy's
+tender and confiding simplicity discerned what other people could not
+see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became his peculiar
+portion.
+
+About this time, there went a rumour throughout the valley, that the
+great man, foretold from ages long ago, who was to bear a resemblance
+to the Great Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many
+years before, a young man had migrated from the valley and settled at
+a distant seaport, where, after getting together a little money, he
+had set up as a shopkeeper. His name--but I could never learn whether
+it was his real one, or a nickname that had grown out of his habits
+and success in life--was Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and
+endowed by Providence with that inscrutable faculty which develops
+itself in what the world calls luck, he became an exceedingly rich
+merchant, and owner of a whole fleet of bulky-bottomed ships. All the
+countries of the globe appeared to join hands for the mere purpose of
+adding heap after heap to the mountainous accumulation of this one
+man's wealth. The cold regions of the north, almost within the gloom
+and shadow of the Arctic Circle, sent him their tribute in the shape
+of furs; hot Africa sifted for him the golden sands of her rivers, and
+gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out of the forests;
+the East came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, and teas, and
+the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of large pearls.
+The ocean, not to be behindhand with the earth, yielded up her mighty
+whales, that Mr. Gathergold might sell their oil, and make a profit on
+it. Be the original commodity what it might, it was gold within his
+grasp. It might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, that
+whatever he touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew
+yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited
+him still better, into piles of coin. And, when Mr. Gathergold had
+become so very rich that it would have taken him a hundred years only
+to count his wealth, he bethought himself of his native valley, and
+resolved to go back thither, and end his days where he was born. With
+this purpose in view, he sent a skilful architect to build him such a
+palace as should be fit for a man of his vast wealth to live in.
+
+As I have said above, it had already been rumoured in the valley that
+Mr. Gathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long
+and vainly looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and
+undeniable similitude of the Great Stone Face. People were the more
+ready to believe that this must needs be the fact, when they beheld
+the splendid edifice that rose, as if by enchantment, on the site of
+his father's old weather-beaten farmhouse. The exterior was of marble,
+so dazzlingly white that it seemed as though the whole structure might
+melt away in the sunshine, like those humbler ones which Mr.
+Gathergold, in his young play-days, before his fingers were gifted
+with the touch of transmutation, had been accustomed to build of snow.
+It had a richly ornamented portico, supported by tall pillars, beneath
+which was a lofty door, studded with silver knobs, and made of a kind
+of variegated wood that had been brought from beyond the sea. The
+windows, from the floor to the ceiling of each stately apartment, were
+composed, respectively, of but one enormous pane of glass, so
+transparently pure that it was said to be a finer medium than even the
+vacant atmosphere. Hardly anybody had been permitted to see the
+interior of this palace; but it was reported, and with good semblance
+of truth, to be far more gorgeous than the outside, insomuch that
+whatever was iron or brass in other houses was silver or gold in this;
+and Mr. Gathergold's bedchamber, especially, made such a glittering
+appearance that no ordinary man would have been able to close his eyes
+there. But, on the other hand, Mr. Gathergold was now so inured to
+wealth, that perhaps he could not have closed his eyes unless where
+the gleam of it was certain to find its way beneath his eyelids.
+
+In due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers,
+with magnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white
+servants, the harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic
+person, was expected to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest,
+meanwhile, had been deeply stirred by the idea that the great man, the
+noble man, the man of prophecy, after so many ages of delay, was at
+length to be made manifest to his native valley. He knew, boy as he
+was, that there were a thousand ways in which Mr. Gathergold, with
+his vast wealth, might transform himself into an angel of beneficence,
+and assume a control over human affairs as wide and benignant as the
+smile of the Great Stone Face. Full of faith and hope, Ernest doubted
+not that what the people said was true, and that now he was to behold
+the living likeness of those wondrous features on the mountain-side.
+While the boy was still gazing up the valley, and fancying, as he
+always did, that the Great Stone Face returned his gaze and looked
+kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was heard, approaching swiftly
+along the winding road.
+
+"Here he comes!" cried a group of people who were assembled to witness
+the arrival. "Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!"
+
+A carriage, drawn by four horses, dashed round the turn of the road.
+Within it, thrust partly out of the window, appeared the physiognomy
+of a little old man, with a skin as yellow as if his own Midas-hand
+had transmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered
+about with innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, which he made
+still thinner by pressing them forcibly together.
+
+"The very image of the Great Stone Face!" shouted the people. "Sure
+enough, the old prophecy is true; and here we have the great man come,
+at last!"
+
+And, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe
+that here was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there
+chanced to be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children,
+stragglers from some far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled
+onward, held out their hands and lifted up their doleful voices, most
+piteously beseeching charity. A yellow claw--the very same that had
+clawed together so much wealth--poked itself out of the coach-window,
+and dropt some copper coins upon the ground; so that, though the
+great man's name seems to have been Gathergold, he might just as
+suitably have been nicknamed Scattercopper. Still, nevertheless, with
+an earnest shout, and evidently with as much good faith as ever, the
+people bellowed:
+
+"He is the very image of the Great Stone Face!"
+
+But Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid
+visage, and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded
+by the last sunbeams, he could still distinguish those glorious
+features which had impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect
+cheered him. What did the benign lips seem to say?
+
+"He will come! Fear not, Ernest; the man will come!"
+
+The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a
+young man now. He attracted little notice from the other inhabitants
+of the valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life,
+save that, when the labour of the day was over, he still loved to go
+apart and gaze and meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to
+their idea of the matter, it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable,
+inasmuch as Ernest was industrious, kind, and neighbourly, and
+neglected no duty for the sake of indulging this idle habit. They knew
+not that the Great Stone Face had become a teacher to him, and that
+the sentiment which was expressed in it would enlarge the young man's
+heart, and fill it with wider and deeper sympathies than other hearts.
+They knew not that thence would come a better wisdom than could be
+learned from books, and a better life than could be moulded on the
+defaced example of other human lives. Neither did Ernest know that the
+thoughts and affections which came to him so naturally, in the fields
+and at the fireside, and wherever he communed with himself, were of a
+higher tone than those which all men shared with him. A simple
+soul--simple as when his mother first taught him the old prophecy--he
+beheld the marvellous features beaming adown the valley, and still
+wondered that their human counterpart was so long in making his
+appearance.
+
+By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest
+part of the matter was, that his wealth which was the body and spirit
+of his existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of
+him but a living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin.
+Since the melting away of his gold, it had been very generally
+conceded that there was no such striking resemblance, after all,
+betwixt the ignoble features of the ruined merchant and that majestic
+face upon the mountain-side. So the people ceased to honour him during
+his lifetime, and quietly consigned him to forgetfulness after his
+decease. Once in a while, it is true, his memory was brought up in
+connection with the magnificent palace which he had built, and which
+had long ago been turned into a hotel for the accommodation of
+strangers, multitudes of whom came, every summer, to visit that famous
+natural curiosity, the Great Stone Face. Thus, Mr. Gathergold being
+discredited and thrown into the shade, the man of prophecy was yet to
+come.
+
+It so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years
+before, had enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard
+fighting, had now become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be
+called in history, he was known in camps and on the battle-field under
+the nickname of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being
+now infirm with age and wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military
+life, and of the roll of the drum and the clangour of the trumpet,
+that had so long been ringing in his ears, had lately signified a
+purpose of returning to his native valley hoping to find repose where
+he remembered to have left it. The inhabitants, his old neighbours and
+their grown-up children, were resolved to welcome the renowned warrior
+with a salute of cannon and a public dinner; and all the more
+enthusiastically, it being affirmed that now, at last, the likeness of
+the Great Stone Face had actually appeared. An aide-de-camp of Old
+Blood-and-Thunder, travelling through the valley, was said to have
+been struck with the resemblance. Moreover the schoolmates and early
+acquaintances of the general were ready to testify, on oath, that, to
+the best of their recollection, the aforesaid general had been
+exceedingly like the majestic image, even when a boy, only that the
+idea had never occurred to them at that period. Great, therefore, was
+the excitement throughout the valley; and many people, who had never
+once thought of glancing at the Great Stone Face for years before, now
+spent their time in gazing at it, for the sake of knowing exactly how
+General Blood-and-Thunder looked.
+
+On the day of the great festival, Ernest, with all the other people of
+the valley, left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the
+sylvan banquet was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the
+Rev. Dr. Battleblast was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good
+things set before them, and on the distinguished friend of peace in
+whose honour they were assembled. The tables were arranged in a
+cleared space of the woods, shut in by the surrounding trees, except
+where a vista opened eastward, and afforded a distant view of the
+Great Stone Face. Over the general's chair, which was a relic from the
+home of Washington, there was an arch of verdant boughs, with the
+laurel profusely intermixed, and surmounted by his country's banner,
+beneath which he had won his victories. Our friend Ernest raised
+himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to get a glimpse of the celebrated
+guest; but there was a mighty crowd about the tables anxious to hear
+the toasts and speeches, and to catch any word that might fall from
+the general in reply; and a volunteer company, doing duty as a guard,
+pricked ruthlessly with their bayonets at any particularly quiet
+person among the throng. So Ernest, being of an unobtrusive character
+was thrust quite into the background, where he could see no more of
+Old Blood-and-Thunder's physiognomy than if it had been still blazing
+on the battle-field. To console himself, he turned towards the Great
+Stone Face, which, like a faithful and long-remembered friend, looked
+back and smiled upon him through the vista of the forest. Meantime,
+however, he could overhear the remarks of various individuals, who
+were comparing the features of the hero with the face on the distant
+mountain-side.
+
+"'Tis the same face, to a hair!" cried one man, cutting a caper for
+joy.
+
+"Wonderfully like, that's a fact!" responded another.
+
+"Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous
+looking-glass!" cried a third. "And why not? He's the greatest man of
+this or any other age, beyond a doubt."
+
+And then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which
+communicated electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a
+thousand voices, that went reverberating for miles among the
+mountains, until you might have supposed that the Great Stone Face had
+poured its thunder-breath into the cry. All these comments, and this
+vast enthusiasm, served the more to interest our friend; nor did he
+think of questioning that now, at length, the mountain-visage had
+found its human counterpart. It is true, Ernest had imagined that this
+long-looked-for personage would appear in the character of a man of
+peace, uttering wisdom and doing good, and making people happy. But,
+taking an habitual breadth of view, with all his simplicity, he
+contended that Providence should choose its own method of blessing
+mankind, and could conceive that this great end might be effected even
+by a warrior and a bloody sword, should inscrutable wisdom see fit to
+order matters so.
+
+"The general! the general!" was now the cry. "Hush! silence! Old
+Blood-and-Thunder's going to make a speech."
+
+Even so; for, the cloth being removed, the general's health had been
+drunk amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to thank
+the company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders of the
+crowd, from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar upward,
+beneath the arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and the
+banner drooping as if to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in
+the same glance, through the vista of the forest, appeared the Great
+Stone Face! And was there, indeed, such a resemblance as the crowd had
+testified? Alas, Ernest could not recognise it! He beheld a war-worn
+and weather-beaten countenance, full of energy, and expressive of an
+iron will; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, broad, tender sympathies,
+were altogether wanting in Old Blood-and-Thunder's visage; and even if
+the Great Stone Face had assumed his look of stern command, the milder
+traits would still have tempered it.
+
+"This is not the man of prophecy," sighed Ernest, to himself, as he
+made his way out of the throng. "And must the world wait longer yet?"
+
+The mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there
+were seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful
+but benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and
+enrobing himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked,
+Ernest could hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole
+visage, with a radiance still brightening, although without motion of
+the lips. It was probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting
+through the thinly diffused vapours that had swept between him and the
+object that he gazed at. But--as it always did--the aspect of his
+marvellous friend made Ernest as hopeful as if he had never hoped in
+vain.
+
+"Fear not, Ernest," said his heart, even as if the Great Face were
+whispering him--"fear not, Ernest; he will come."
+
+More years sped swiftly and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his
+native valley, and was now a man of middle age. By imperceptible
+degrees, he had become known among the people. Now, as heretofore, he
+laboured for his bread, and was the same simple-hearted man that he
+had always been. But he had thought and felt so much he had given so
+many of the best hours of his life to unworldly hopes for some great
+good to mankind, that it seemed as though he had been talking with the
+angels, and had imbibed a portion of their wisdom unawares. It was
+visible in the calm and well-considered beneficence of his daily life,
+the quiet stream of which had made a wide green margin all along its
+course. Not a day passed by, that the world was not the better because
+this man, humble as he was, had lived. He never stepped aside from his
+own path, yet would always reach a blessing to his neighbour. Almost
+involuntarily, too, he had become a preacher. The pure and high
+simplicity of his thought, which, as one of its manifestations, took
+shape in the good deeds that dropped silently from his hand, flowed
+also forth in speech. He uttered truths that wrought upon and moulded
+the lives of those who heard him. His auditors, it may be, never
+suspected that Ernest, their own neighbour and familiar friend, was
+more than an ordinary man; least of all did Ernest himself suspect it;
+but, inevitably as the murmur of a rivulet, came thoughts out of his
+mouth that no other human lips had spoken.
+
+When the people's minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready
+enough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between
+General Blood-and-Thunder's truculent physiognomy and the benign
+visage on the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and
+many paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the
+Great Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain
+eminent statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder,
+was a native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and
+taken up the trades of law and politics. Instead of the rich man's
+wealth and the warrior's sword, he had but a tongue, and it was
+mightier than both together. So wonderfully eloquent was he, that
+whatever he might choose to say, his auditors had no choice but to
+believe him; wrong looked like right, and right like wrong; for when
+it pleased him, he could make a kind of illuminated fog with his mere
+breath, and obscure the natural daylight with it. His tongue, indeed,
+was a magic instrument: sometimes it rumbled like the thunder;
+sometimes it warbled like the sweetest music. It was the blast of
+war--the song of peace; and it seemed to have a heart in it, when
+there was no such matter. In good truth, he was a wondrous man; and
+when his tongue had acquired him all other imaginable success--when it
+had been heard in halls of state, and in the courts of princes and
+potentates--after it had made him known all over the world, even as a
+voice crying from shore to shore--it finally persuaded his countrymen
+to select him for the Presidency. Before this time--indeed, as soon as
+he began to grow celebrated--his admirers had found out the
+resemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much were
+they struck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished
+gentleman was known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was
+considered as giving a highly favourable aspect to his political
+prospects; for, as is likewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever
+becomes President without taking a name other than his own.
+
+While his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old
+Stony Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where
+he was born. Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands
+with his fellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any
+effect which his progress through the country might have upon the
+election. Magnificent preparations were made to receive the
+illustrious statesman; a cavalcade of horsemen set forth to meet him
+at the boundary line of the State, and all the people left their
+business and gathered along the wayside to see him pass. Among these
+was Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, as we have seen, he
+had such a hopeful and confiding nature, that he was always ready to
+believe in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept his heart
+continually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from on
+high, when it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he went
+forth to behold the likeness of the Great Stone Face.
+
+The cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clattering of
+hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and high that
+the visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden from Ernest's
+eyes. All the great men of the neighbourhood were there on horseback:
+militia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; the sheriff of
+the county; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer, too, had
+mounted his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his back. It
+really was a very brilliant spectacle, especially as there were
+numerous banners flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were
+gorgeous portraits of the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone
+Face, smiling familiarly at one another, like two brothers. If the
+pictures were to be trusted, the mutual resemblance, it must be
+confessed, was marvellous. We must not forget to mention that there
+was a band of music, which made the echoes of the mountains ring and
+reverberate with the loud triumph of its strains; so that airy and
+soul-thrilling melodies broke out among all the heights and hollows,
+as if every nook of his native valley had found a voice to welcome the
+distinguished guest. But the grandest effect was when the far-off
+mountain precipice flung back the music; for then the Great Stone Face
+itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, in acknowledgment
+that, at length, the man of prophecy was come.
+
+All this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting,
+with enthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and
+he likewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest,
+"Huzza for the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz?" But as yet he had
+not seen him.
+
+"Here he is, now!" cried those who stood near Ernest. "There! There!
+Look at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and
+see if they are not as like as two twin-brothers!"
+
+In the midst of all this gallant array, came an open barouche, drawn
+by four white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head
+uncovered, sat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself.
+
+"Confess it," said one of Ernest's neighbours to him, "the Great Stone
+Face has met its match at last!"
+
+Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance
+which was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that
+there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the
+mountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all
+the other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in
+emulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity
+and stateliness, the grand expression of a divine sympathy, that
+illuminated the mountain visage, and etherealised its ponderous
+granite substance into spirit, might here be sought in vain. Something
+had been originally left out, or had departed. And therefore the
+marvellously gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deep
+caverns of his eyes, as of a child that has outgrown its playthings,
+or a man of mighty faculties and little aims, whose life, with all its
+high performances, was vague and empty, because no high purpose had
+endowed it with reality.
+
+Still, Ernest's neighbour was thrusting his elbow into his side, and
+pressing him for an answer.
+
+"Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the
+Mountain?"
+
+"No!" said Ernest, bluntly, "I see little or no likeness."
+
+"Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!" answered his
+neighbour; and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz.
+
+But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent: for this
+was the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have
+fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the
+cavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him,
+with the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle
+down, and the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur
+that it had worn for untold centuries.
+
+"Lo, here I am, Ernest!" the benign lips seemed to say. "I have
+waited longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will
+come."
+
+The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another's
+heels. And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over
+the head of Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead,
+and furrows in his cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he
+grown old; more than the white hairs on his head were the sage
+thoughts in his mind; his wrinkles and furrows were inscriptions that
+Time had graved, and in which he had written legends of wisdom that
+had been tested by the tenor of a life. And Ernest had ceased to be
+obscure. Unsought for, undesired, had come the fame which so many
+seek, and made him known in the great world, beyond the limits of the
+valley in which he had dwelt so quietly. College professors, and even
+the active men of cities, came from far to see and converse with
+Ernest; for the report had gone abroad that this simple husbandman had
+ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, but of a
+higher tone--a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he had been
+talking with the angels as his daily friends. Whether it were sage,
+statesman, or philanthropist, Ernest received these visitors with the
+gentle sincerity that had characterised him from boyhood, and spoke
+freely with them of whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his
+heart or their own. While they talked together, his face would kindle,
+unawares, and shine upon them, as with a mild evening light. Pensive
+with the fulness of such discourse, his guests took leave and went
+their way; and passing up the valley, paused to look at the Great
+Stone Face, imagining that they had seen its likeness in a human
+countenance, but could not remember where.
+
+While Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful
+Providence had granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a
+native of the valley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a
+distance from that romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid
+the bustle and din of cities. Often, however, did the mountains which
+had been familiar to him in his childhood, lift their snowy peaks into
+the clear atmosphere of his poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face
+forgotten, for the poet had celebrated it in an ode, which was grand
+enough to have been uttered by its own majestic lips. This man of
+genius, we may say, had come down from heaven with wonderful
+endowments. If he sang of a mountain, the eyes of all mankind beheld a
+mightier grandeur reposing on its breast, or soaring to its summit,
+than had before been seen there. If his theme were a lovely lake, a
+celestial smile had now been thrown over it, to gleam forever on its
+surface. If it were the vast old sea, even the deep immensity of its
+dread bosom seemed to swell the higher, as if moved by the emotions of
+the song. Thus the world assumed another and a better aspect from the
+hour that the poet blessed it with his happy eyes. The Creator had
+bestowed him, as the last best touch to his own handiwork. Creation
+was not finished till the poet came to interpret, and so complete it.
+
+The effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren
+were the subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the
+common dust of life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child
+who played in it, were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of
+poetic faith. He showed the golden links of the great chain that
+intertwined them with an angelic kindred; he brought out the hidden
+traits of a celestial birth that made them worthy of such kin. Some,
+indeed, there were, who thought to show the soundness of their
+judgment by affirming that all the beauty and dignity of the natural
+world existed only in the poet's fancy. Let such men speak for
+themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have been spawned forth by
+Nature with a contemptuous bitterness; she having plastered them up
+out of her refuse stuff, after all the swine were made. As respects
+all things else, the poet's ideal was the truest truth.
+
+The songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after
+his customary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where
+for such a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by
+gazing at the Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused
+the soul to thrill within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast
+countenance beaming on him so benignantly.
+
+"O majestic friend," he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, "is
+not this man worthy to resemble thee?"
+
+The Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word.
+
+Now it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not
+only heard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until
+he deemed nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught
+wisdom walked hand in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One
+summer morning, therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in
+the decline of the afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great
+distance from Ernest's cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly
+been the palace of Mr. Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet,
+with his carpet-bag on his arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt,
+and was resolved to be accepted as his guest.
+
+Approaching the door, he there found the good old man holding a volume
+in his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger
+between the leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face.
+
+"Good evening," said the poet. "Can you give a traveller a night's
+lodging?"
+
+"Willingly," answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, "Methinks I
+never saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger."
+
+The poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked
+together. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and
+the wisest, but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts
+and feelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great
+truths so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had
+been so often said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labour in
+the fields; angels seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and,
+dwelling with angels as friend with friends, he had imbibed the
+sublimity of their ideas, and imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm
+of household words. So thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other
+hand, was moved and agitated by the living images which the poet flung
+out of his mind, and which peopled all the air about the cottage-door
+with shapes of beauty, both gay and pensive. The sympathies of these
+two men instructed them with a profounder sense than either could have
+attained alone. Their minds accorded into one strain, and made
+delightful music which neither of them could have claimed as all his
+own, nor distinguished his own share from the other's. They led one
+another, as it were, into a high pavilion of their thoughts, so
+remote, and hitherto so dim, that they had never entered it before,
+and so beautiful that they desired to be there always.
+
+As Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face
+was bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet's
+glowing eyes.
+
+"Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?" he said.
+
+The poet laid his finger on the volume that Ernest had been reading.
+
+"You have read these poems," said he. "You know me, then--for I wrote
+them."
+
+Again, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the
+poet's features; then turned towards the Great Stone Face; then back,
+with an uncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he
+shook his head, and sighed.
+
+"Wherefore are you sad?" inquired the poet.
+
+"Because," replied Ernest, "all through life I have awaited the
+fulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that
+it might be fulfilled in you."
+
+"You hoped," answered the poet, faintly smiling, "to find in me the
+likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as
+formerly with Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony
+Phiz. Yes, Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the
+illustrious three, and record another failure of your hopes. For--in
+shame and sadness do I speak it, Ernest--I am not worthy to be
+typified by yonder benign and majestic image."
+
+"And why?" asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. "Are not those
+thoughts divine?"
+
+"They have a strain of the Divinity," replied the poet. "You can hear
+in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest,
+has not corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but
+they have been only dreams, because I have lived--and that, too, by my
+own choice--among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even--shall I
+dare to say it?--I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the
+goodness, which my own works are said to have made more evident in
+nature and in human life. Why, then, pure seeker of the good and
+true, shouldst thou hope to find me, in yonder image of the divine?"
+
+The poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise,
+were those of Ernest.
+
+At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest
+was to discourse to an assemblage of the neighbouring inhabitants in
+the open air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as
+they went along, proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the
+hills, with a gray precipice behind, the stern front of which was
+relieved by the pleasant foliage of many creeping plants, that made a
+tapestry for the naked rocks, by hanging their festoons from all its
+rugged angles. At a small elevation above the ground, set in a rich
+framework of verdure, there appeared a niche, spacious enough to admit
+a human figure, with freedom for such gestures as spontaneously
+accompany earnest thought and genuine emotion. Into this natural
+pulpit Ernest ascended, and threw a look of familiar kindness around
+upon his audience. They stood, or sat, or reclined upon the grass, as
+seemed good to each, with the departing sunshine falling obliquely
+over them, and mingling its subdued cheerfulness with the solemnity of
+a grove of ancient trees, beneath and amid the boughs of which the
+golden rays were constrained to pass. In another direction was seen
+the Great Stone Face, with the same cheer, combined with the same
+solemnity, in its benignant aspect.
+
+Ernest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart
+and mind. His words had power, because they accorded with his
+thoughts; and his thoughts had reality and depth, because they
+harmonised with the life which he had always lived. It was not mere
+breath that this preacher uttered; they were the words of life,
+because a life of good deeds and holy love was melted into them.
+Pearls, pure and rich, had been dissolved into this precious draught.
+The poet, as he listened, felt that the being and character of Ernest
+were a nobler strain of poetry than he had ever written. His eyes
+glistening with tears, he gazed reverentially at the venerable man,
+and said within himself that never was there an aspect so worthy of a
+prophet and a sage as that mild, sweet, thoughtful countenance, with
+the glory of white hair diffused about it. At a distance, but
+distinctly to be seen, high up in the golden light of the setting sun,
+appeared the Great Stone Face, with hoary mists around it, like the
+white hairs around the brow of Ernest. Its look of grand beneficence
+seemed to embrace the world.
+
+At that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to
+utter, the face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued
+with benevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his
+arms aloft, and shouted:
+
+"Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone
+Face."
+
+Then all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet
+said was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished
+what he had to say, took the poet's arm, and walked slowly homeward,
+still hoping that some wiser and better man than himself would by and
+by appear, bearing a resemblance to the _Great Stone Face_.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN
+
+     SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE
+     HOME AGAIN
+
+
+John Gilpin was a citizen
+  Of credit and renown,
+A train-band captain eke was he
+  Of famous London town.
+
+John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
+  "Though wedded we have been
+These twice ten tedious years, yet we
+  No holiday have seen.
+
+"To-morrow is our wedding-day,
+  And we will then repair
+Unto the Bell at Edmonton
+  All in a chaise and pair.
+
+"My sister and my sister's child,
+  Myself, and children three,
+Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
+  On horseback after we."
+
+He soon replied, "I do admire
+  Of womankind but one,
+And you are she, my dearest dear.
+  Therefore it shall be done.
+
+"I am a linen-draper bold,
+  As all the world doth know,
+And my good friend the calender
+  Will lend his horse to go."
+
+Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said;
+  And for that wine is dear,
+We will be furnished with our own,
+  Which is both bright and clear."
+
+John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;
+  O'er joyed was he to find,
+That, though on pleasure she was bent,
+  She had a frugal mind.
+
+The morning came, the chaise was brought,
+  But yet was not allowed
+To drive up to the door, lest all
+  Should say that she was proud.
+
+So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
+  Where they did all get in;
+Six precious souls, and all agog
+  To dash through thick and thin.
+
+Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
+  Were never folks so glad,
+The stones did rattle underneath,
+  As if Cheapside were mad.
+
+John Gilpin at his horse's side
+  Seized fast the flowing mane,
+And up he got, in haste to ride,
+  But soon came down again;
+
+For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,
+  His journey to begin,
+When, turning round his head, he saw
+  Three customers come in.
+
+So down he came; for loss of time,
+  Although it grieved him sore,
+Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
+  Would trouble him much more.
+
+'Twas long before the customers
+  Were suited to their mind,
+When Betty screaming came down stairs,
+  "The wine is left behind!"
+
+"Good lack!" quoth he--"yet bring it me
+  My leathern belt likewise,
+In which I bear my trusty sword
+  When I do exercise."
+
+Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!)
+  Had two stone bottles found,
+To hold the liquor that she loved,
+  And keep it safe and sound.
+
+Each bottle had a curling ear,
+  Through which the belt he drew,
+And hung a bottle on each side,
+  To make his balance true.
+
+Then over all, that he might be
+  Equipped from top to toe,
+His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,
+  He manfully did throw.
+
+Now see him mounted once again
+  Upon his nimble steed,
+Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,
+  With caution and good heed.
+
+But finding soon a smoother road
+  Beneath his well-shod feet,
+The snorting beast began to trot,
+  Which galled him in his seat.
+
+So, "Fair and softly," John he cried,
+  But John he cried in vain;
+That trot became a gallop soon,
+  In spite of curb and rein.
+
+So stooping down, as needs be must
+  Who cannot sit upright,
+He grasped the mane with both his hands
+  And eke with all his might.
+
+His horse, who never in that sort
+  Had handled been before,
+What thing upon his back had got
+  Did wonder more and more.
+
+Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;
+  Away went hat and wig;
+He little dreamt, when he set out,
+  Of running such a rig.
+
+The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
+  Like streamer long and gay,
+Till loop and button failing both,
+  At last it flew away.
+
+Then might all people well discern
+  The bottles he has slung;
+A bottle swinging at each side,
+  As hath been said or sung.
+
+The dogs did bark, the children screamed
+  Up flew the windows all;
+And every soul cried out, "Well done!"
+  As loud as he could bawl.
+
+Away went Gilpin--who but he?
+  His fame soon spread around;
+"He carries weight!" "He rides a race!"
+  "'Tis for a thousand pound!"
+
+And still, as fast as he drew near,
+  'Twas wonderful to view,
+How in a trice the turnpike-men
+  Their gates wide open threw.
+
+And now, as he went bowing down
+  His reeking head full low,
+The bottles twain behind his back
+  Were shattered at a blow.
+
+Down ran the wine into the road,
+  Most piteous to be seen,
+Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
+  As they had basted been.
+
+But still he seemed to carry weight
+  With leathern girdle braced;
+For all might see the bottle necks
+  Still dangling at his waist.
+
+Thus all through merry Islington
+  These gambols he did play,
+Until he came unto the Wash
+  Of Edmonton so gay;
+
+And there he threw the Wash about
+  On both sides of the way,
+Just like unto a trundling mop,
+  Or a wild goose at play.
+
+At Edmonton his loving wife
+  From the balcony she spied
+Her tender husband, wondering much
+  To see how he did ride.
+
+"Stop, stop, John Gilpin!--Here's the house!"
+  They all at once did cry;
+"The dinner waits, and we are tired;"
+  Said Gilpin--"So am I!"
+
+But yet his horse was not a whit
+  Inclined to tarry there;
+For why?--his owner had a house
+  Full ten miles off, at Ware.
+
+So like an arrow swift he flew,
+  Shot by an archer strong;
+So did he fly--which brings me to
+  The middle of my song.
+
+Away went Gilpin, out of breath,
+  And sore against his will,
+Till at his friend's the calender's
+  His horse at last stood still.
+
+The calender, amazed to see
+  His neighbour in such trim,
+Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
+  And thus accosted him:
+
+"What news? what news? your tidings tell;
+  Tell me you must and shall--
+Say why bareheaded you are come,
+  Or why you come at all?"
+
+Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
+  And loved a timely joke;
+And thus unto the calender
+  In merry guise he spoke:
+
+"I came because your horse would come,
+  And, if I well forebode,
+My hat and wig will soon be here,
+  They are upon the road."
+
+The calender, right glad to find
+  His friend in merry pin,
+Returned him not a single word,
+  But to the house went in;
+
+Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
+  A wig that flowed behind,
+A hat not much the worse for wear,
+  Each comely in its kind.
+
+He held them up, and in his turn
+  Thus showed his ready wit,
+"My head is twice as big as yours,
+  They therefore needs must fit.
+
+"But let me scrape the dirt away
+  That hangs upon your face;
+And stop and eat, for well you may
+  Be in a hungry case."
+
+Said John, "It is my wedding-day,
+  And all the world would stare,
+If wife should dine at Edmonton,
+  And I should dine at Ware."
+
+So turning to his horse, he said,
+  "I am in haste to dine;
+'Twas for your pleasure you came here,
+  You shall go back for mine."
+
+Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast!
+  For which he paid full dear;
+For, while he spake, a braying ass
+  Did sing most loud and clear;
+
+Whereat his horse did snort, as he
+  Had heard a lion roar,
+And galloped off with all his might,
+  As he had done before.
+
+Away went Gilpin, and away
+  Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
+He lost them sooner than at first;
+  For why?--they were too big.
+
+Now Mrs. Gilpin, when she saw
+  Her husband posting down
+Into the country far away,
+  She pulled out half-a-crown;
+
+And thus unto the youth, she said,
+  That drove them to the Bell,
+"This shall be yours, when you bring back
+  My husband safe and well."
+
+The youth did ride, and soon did meet
+  John coming back amain;
+Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
+  By catching at his rein;
+
+But not performing what he meant,
+  And gladly would have done,
+The frightened steed he frighted more,
+  And made him faster run.
+
+Away went Gilpin, and away
+  Went postboy at his heels,
+The postboy's horse right glad to miss
+  The lumbering of the wheels.
+
+Six gentlemen upon the road,
+  Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
+With postboy scampering in the rear,
+  They raised the hue and cry:--
+
+"Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!"
+  Not one of them was mute;
+And all and each that passed that way
+  Did join in the pursuit.
+
+And now the turnpike gates again
+  Flew open in short space;
+The toll-men thinking, as before,
+  That Gilpin rode a race.
+
+And so he did, and won it too,
+  For he got first to town;
+Nor stopped till where he had got up
+  He did again get down.
+
+Now let us sing, Long live the king!
+  And Gilpin long live he;
+And, when he next doth ride abroad,
+  May I be there to see!
+
+                   --WILLIAM COWPER
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY
+
+
+I suppose that very few casual readers of the _New York Herald_ of
+August 13, 1863, observed, in an obscure corner, among the "Deaths,"
+the announcement,--
+
+     "NOLAN. Died, on board U.S. Corvette _Levant_, Lat. 2 deg. 11'
+     S., Long. 131 deg. W., on the 11th of May, PHILIP NOLAN."
+
+I happened to observe it, because I was stranded at the old Mission
+House in Mackinaw, waiting for a Lake Superior steamer which did not
+choose to come, and I was devouring to the very stubble all the
+current literature I could get hold of, even down to the deaths and
+marriages in the _Herald_. My memory for names and people is good, and
+the reader will see, as he goes on, that I had reason enough to
+remember Philip Nolan. There are hundreds of readers who would have
+paused at that announcement, if the officer of the _Levant_ who
+reported it had chosen to make it thus: "Died May 11th, THE MAN
+WITHOUT A COUNTRY." For it was as "The Man without a Country" that
+poor Philip Nolan had generally been known by the officers who had him
+in charge during some fifty years, as, indeed, by all the men who
+sailed under them. I dare say there is many a man who has taken wine
+with him once a fortnight, in a three years' cruise, who never knew
+that his name was "Nolan," or whether the poor wretch had any name at
+all.
+
+There can now be no possible harm in telling this poor creature's
+story. Reason enough there has been till now ever since Madison's
+administration went out in 1817, for very strict secrecy, the secrecy
+of honour itself, among the gentlemen of the navy who have had Nolan
+in successive charge. And certainly it speaks well for the _esprit de
+corps_ of the profession, and the personal honour of its members, that
+to the press this man's story has been wholly unknown--and, I think,
+to the country at large also. I have reason to think, from some
+investigations I made in the Naval Archives when I was attached to the
+Bureau of Construction, that every official report relating to him was
+burned when Ross burned the public buildings at Washington. One of the
+Tuckers, or possibly one of the Watsons, had Nolan in charge at the
+end of the war; and when, on returning from his cruise, he reported at
+Washington to one of the Crowninshields--who was in the Navy
+Department when he came home--he found that the Department ignored the
+whole business. Whether they really knew nothing about it, or whether
+it was a "_Non mi ricordo_," determined on as a piece of policy I do
+not know. But this I do know, that since 1817, and possibly before, no
+naval officer has mentioned Nolan in his report of a cruise.
+
+But, as I say, there is no need for secrecy any longer. And now the
+poor creature is dead, it seems to me worth while to tell a little of
+his story, by way of showing young Americans of to-day what it is to
+be A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.
+
+PHILIP NOLAN was as fine a young officer as there was in the "Legion
+of the West," as the Western division of our army was then called.
+When Aaron Burr made his first dashing expedition down to New Orleans
+in 1805, at Fort Massac, or somewhere above on the river, he met, as
+the Devil would have it, this gay, dashing, bright young fellow; at
+some dinner-party, I think. Burr marked him, talked to him, walked
+with him, took him a day or two's voyage in his flat-boat, and, in
+short, fascinated him. For the next year, barrack-life was very tame
+to poor Nolan. He occasionally availed himself of the permission the
+great man had given him to write to him. Long, high-worded, stilted
+letters the poor boy wrote and rewrote and copied. But never a line
+did he have in reply from the gay deceiver. The other boys in the
+garrison sneered at him, because he lost the fun which they found in
+shooting or rowing while he was working away on these grand letters to
+his grand friend. They could not understand why Nolan kept by himself
+while they were playing high-low-jack. Poker was not yet invented. But
+before long the young fellow had his revenge. For this time His
+Excellency, Honourable Aaron Burr, appeared again under a very
+different aspect. There were rumours that he had an army behind him
+and everybody supposed that he had an empire before him. At that time
+the youngsters all envied him. Burr had not been talking twenty
+minutes with the commander before he asked him to send for Lieutenant
+Nolan. Then after a little talk he asked Nolan if he could show him
+something of the great river and the plans for the new post. He asked
+Nolan to take him out in his skiff to show him a canebrake or a
+cottonwood tree, as he said, really to seduce him; and by the time the
+sail was over, Nolan was enlisted body and soul. From that time,
+though he did not yet know it, he lived as A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.
+
+What Burr meant to do I know no more than you, dear reader. It is none
+of our business just now. Only, when the grand catastrophe came, and
+Jefferson and the House of Virginia of that day undertook to break on
+the wheel all the possible Clarences of the then House of York, by the
+great treason trial at Richmond, some of the lesser fry in that
+distant Mississippi Valley, which was farther from us than Puget's
+Sound is to-day, introduced the like novelty on their provincial
+stage; and, to while away the monotony of the summer at Fort Adams,
+got up, for _spectacles_, a string of courts-martial on the officers
+there. One and another of the colonels and majors were tried, and, to
+fill out the list, little Nolan, against whom, Heaven knows, there was
+evidence enough--that he was sick of the service, had been willing to
+be false to it, and would have obeyed any order to march any whither
+with anyone who would follow him had the order been signed, "By
+command of His Exc. A. Burr." The courts dragged on. The big flies
+escaped, rightly for all I know. Nolan was proved guilty enough, as I
+say; yet you and I would never have heard of him, reader, but that,
+when the president of the court asked him at the close whether he
+wished to say anything to show that he had always been faithful to the
+United States, he cried out, in a fit of frenzy--
+
+"Damn the United States! I wish I may never hear of the United States
+again!"
+
+I suppose he did not know how the words shocked old Colonel Morgan,
+who was holding the court. Half the officers who sat in it had served
+through the Revolution, and their lives, not to say their necks, had
+been risked for the very idea which he so cavalierly cursed in his
+madness. He, on his part, had grown up in the West of those days, in
+the midst of "Spanish plot," "Orleans plot," and all the rest. He had
+been educated on a plantation where the finest company was a Spanish
+officer or a French merchant from Orleans. His education, such as it
+was, had been perfected in commercial expeditions to Vera Cruz, and I
+think he told me his father once hired an Englishman to be a private
+tutor for a winter on the plantation. He had spent half his youth with
+an older brother, hunting horses in Texas; and, in a word, to him
+"United States" was scarcely a reality. Yet he had been fed by "United
+States" for all the years since he had been in the army. He had sworn
+on his faith as a Christian to be true to "United States." It was
+"United States" which gave him the uniform he wore, and the sword by
+his side. Nay, my poor Nolan, it was only because "United States" had
+picked you out first as one of her own confidential men of honour that
+"A. Burr" cared for you a straw more than for the flat-boat men who
+sailed his ark for him. I do not excuse Nolan; I only explain to the
+reader why he damned his country, and wished he might never hear her
+name again.
+
+He never did hear her name but once again. From that moment, Sept. 23,
+1807, till the day he died, May 11, 1863, he never heard her name
+again. For that half-century and more he was a man without a country.
+
+Old Morgan, as I said, was terribly shocked. If Nolan had compared
+George Washington to Benedict Arnold, or had cried, "God save King
+George," Morgan would not have felt worse. He called the court into
+his private room, and returned in fifteen minutes, with a face like a
+sheet, to say:
+
+"Prisoner, hear the sentence of the Court! The Court decides, subject
+to the approval of the President, that you never hear the name of the
+United States again."
+
+Nolan laughed. But nobody else laughed. Old Morgan was too solemn, and
+the whole room was hushed dead as night for a minute. Even Nolan lost
+his swagger in a moment. Then Morgan added:
+
+"Mr. Marshal, take the prisoner to Orleans in an armed boat, and
+deliver him to the naval commander there."
+
+The marshal gave his orders and the prisoner was taken out of court.
+
+"Mr. Marshal," continued old Morgan, "see that no one mentions the
+United States to the prisoner. Mr. Marshal, make my respects to
+Lieutenant Mitchell at Orleans, and request him to order that no one
+shall mention the United States to the prisoner while he is on board
+ship. You will receive your written orders from the officer on duty
+here this evening. The Court is adjourned without day."
+
+I have always supposed that Colonel Morgan himself took the
+proceedings of the court to Washington city, and explained them to Mr.
+Jefferson. Certain it is that the President approved them--certain,
+that is, if I may believe the men who say they have seen his
+signature. Before the _Nautilus_ got round from New Orleans to the
+Northern Atlantic coast with the prisoner on board, the sentence had
+been approved, and he was a man without a country.
+
+The plan then adopted was substantially the same which was necessarily
+followed ever after. Perhaps it was suggested by the necessity of
+sending him by water from Fort Adams and Orleans. The Secretary of the
+Navy--it must have been the first Crowninshield, though he is a man I
+do not remember--was requested to put Nolan on board a government
+vessel bound on a long cruise, and to direct that he should be only so
+far confined there as to make it certain that he never saw or heard of
+the country. We had few long cruises then, and the navy was very much
+out of favour; and as almost all of this story is traditional, as I
+have explained, I do not know certainly what his first cruise was. But
+the commander to whom he was intrusted--perhaps it was Tingey or Shaw,
+though I think it was one of the younger men--we are all old enough
+now--regulated the etiquette and the precautions of the affair, and
+according to his scheme they were carried out, I suppose, till Nolan
+died.
+
+When I was second officer of the _Intrepid_, some thirty years after,
+I saw the original paper of instructions. I have been sorry ever
+since that I did not copy the whole of it. It ran, however, much in
+this way--
+
+                          WASHINGTON (with a date, which
+                           must have been late in 1807).
+
+     Sir,
+
+     You will receive from Lieutenant Neale the person of Philip
+     Nolan, late a lieutenant in the United States army.
+
+     This person on his trial by court-martial expressed, with an
+     oath, the wish that he might never hear of the United States
+     again.
+
+     The Court sentenced him to have his wish fulfilled.
+
+     For the present, the execution of the order is intrusted by
+     the President to this Department.
+
+     You will take the prisoner on board your ship, and keep him
+     there with such precautions as shall prevent his escape.
+
+     You will provide him with such quarters, rations, and
+     clothing as would be proper for an officer of his late rank,
+     if he were a passenger on your vessel on the business of his
+     Government.
+
+     The gentlemen on board will make any arrangements agreeable
+     to themselves regarding his society. He is to be exposed to
+     no indignity of any kind, nor is he ever unnecessarily to be
+     reminded that he is a prisoner.
+
+     But under no circumstances is he ever to hear of his country
+     or to see any information regarding it; and you will
+     especially caution all the officers under your command to
+     take care, that, in the various indulgences which may be
+     granted, this rule, in which his punishment is involved,
+     shall not be broken.
+
+     It is the intention of the Government that he shall never
+     again see the country which he has disowned. Before the end
+     of your cruise you will receive orders which will give
+     effect to this intention.
+
+                          Respectfully yours,
+                               W. SOUTHARD, for the
+                                    Secretary of the Navy.
+
+If I had only preserved the whole of this paper, there would be no
+break in the beginning of my sketch of this story. For Captain Shaw,
+if it were he, handed it to his successor in the charge, and he to
+his, and I suppose the commander of the _Levant_ has it to-day as his
+authority for keeping this man in this mild custody.
+
+The rule adopted on board the ships on which I have met "the man
+without a country" was, I think, transmitted from the beginning. No
+mess liked to have him permanently, because his presence cut off all
+talk of home or the prospect of return, of politics or letters, of
+peace or of war--cut off more than half the talk men liked to have at
+sea. But it was always thought too hard that he should never meet the
+rest of us, except to touch hats, and we finally sank into one system.
+He was not permitted to talk with the men, unless an officer was by.
+With officers he had unrestrained intercourse, as far as they and he
+chose. But he grew shy, though he had favourites: I was one. Then the
+captain always asked him to dinner on Monday. Every mess in succession
+took up the invitation in its turn. According to the size of the ship,
+you had him at your mess more or less often at dinner. His breakfast
+he ate in his own state-room--he always had a state-room--which was
+where a sentinel or somebody on the watch could see the door. And
+whatever else he ate or drank, he ate or drank alone. Sometimes, when
+the marines or sailors had any special jollification, they were
+permitted to invite "Plain-Buttons," as they called him. Then Nolan
+was sent with some officer, and the men were forbidden to speak of
+home while he was there. I believe the theory was that the sight of
+his punishment did them good. They called him "Plain-Buttons,"
+because, while he always chose to wear a regulation army-uniform, he
+was not permitted to wear the army-button, for the reason that it bore
+either the initials or the insignia of the country he had disowned.
+
+I remember, soon after I joined the navy, I was on shore with some of
+the older officers from our ship and from the _Brandywine_, which we
+had met at Alexandria. We had leave to make a party and go up to Cairo
+and the Pyramids. As we jogged along (you went on donkeys then), some
+of the gentlemen (we boys called them "Dons," but the phrase was long
+since changed) fell to talking about Nolan, and someone told the
+system which was adopted from the first about his books and other
+reading. As he was almost never permitted to go on shore, even though
+the vessel lay in port for months, his time at the best hung heavy;
+and everybody was permitted to lend him books, if they were not
+published in America and made no allusion to it. These were common
+enough in the old days, when people in the other hemisphere talked of
+the United States as little as we do of Paraguay. He had almost all
+the foreign papers that came into the ship, sooner or later; only
+somebody must go over them first, and cut out any advertisement or
+stray paragraph that alluded to America. This was a little cruel
+sometimes, when the back of what was cut out might be as innocent as
+Hesiod. Right in the midst of one of Napoleon's battles, or one of
+Canning's speeches, poor Nolan would find a great hole, because on the
+back of the page of that paper there had been an advertisement of a
+packet for New York, or a scrap from the President's message. I say
+this was the first time I ever heard of this plan, which afterwards I
+had enough and more than enough to do with. I remember it, because
+poor Phillips, who was of the party, as soon as the allusion to
+reading was made, told a story of something which happened at the Cape
+of Good Hope on Nolan's first voyage; and it is the only thing I ever
+knew of that voyage. They had touched at the Cape, and had done the
+civil thing with the English Admiral and the fleet, and then, leaving
+for a long cruise up the Indian Ocean, Phillips had borrowed a lot of
+English books from an officer, which, in those days, as indeed in
+these, was quite a windfall. Among them, as the Devil would order, was
+the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," which they had all of them heard of,
+but which most of them had never seen. I think it could not have been
+published long. Well, nobody thought there could be any risk of
+anything national in that, though Phillips swore old Shaw had cut out
+the "Tempest" from Shakespeare before he let Nolan have it, because he
+said "the Bermudas ought to be ours, and, by Jove, should be one day."
+So Nolan was permitted to join the circle one afternoon when a lot of
+them sat on deck smoking and reading aloud. People do not do such
+things so often now; but when I was young we got rid of a great deal
+of time so. Well, so it happened that in his turn Nolan took the book
+and read to the others; and he read very well, as I know. Nobody in
+the circle knew a line of the poem, only it was all magic and Border
+chivalry, and was ten thousand years ago. Poor Nolan read steadily
+through the fifth canto, stopped a minute and drank something, and
+then began, without a thought of what was coming:
+
+"Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
+ Who never to himself hath said,"--
+
+It seems impossible to us that anybody ever heard this for the first
+time; but all these fellows did then, and poor Nolan himself went on,
+still unconsciously or mechanically--
+
+"This is my own, my native land!"
+
+Then they all saw that something was to pay; but he expected to get
+through, I suppose, turned a little pale, but plunged on,
+
+"Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
+  As home his footsteps he hath turned
+From wandering on a foreign strand?--
+  If such there breathe, go, mark him well--"
+
+By this time the men were all beside themselves, wishing there was
+any way to make him turn over two pages; but he had not quite presence
+of mind for that; he gagged a little, coloured crimson, and staggered
+on--
+
+"For him no minstrel raptures swell;
+High though his titles, proud his name.
+Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,
+Despite these titles, power, and pelf,
+The wretch, concentred all in self--"
+
+and here the poor fellow choked, could not go on, but started up,
+swung the book into the sea, vanished into his state-room, "And by
+Jove," said Phillips, "we did not see him for two months again. And I
+had to make up some beggarly story to that English surgeon why I did
+not return his Walter Scott to him."
+
+That story shows about the time when Nolan's braggadocio must have
+broken down. At first, they said, he took a very high tone, considered
+his imprisonment a mere farce, affected to enjoy the voyage, and all
+that; but Phillips said that after he came out of his state-room he
+never was the same man again. He never read aloud again unless it was
+the Bible or Shakespeare, or something else he was sure of. But it was
+not that merely. He never entered in with the other young men exactly
+as a companion again. He was always shy afterwards, when I knew
+him--very seldom spoke, unless he was spoken to, except to a very few
+friends. He lighted up occasionally--I remember late in his life
+hearing him fairly eloquent on something which had been suggested to
+him by one of Flechier's sermons--but generally he had the nervous,
+tired look of a heart-wounded man.
+
+When Captain Shaw was coming home--if, as I say, it was Shaw--rather
+to the surprise of everybody they made one of the Windward Islands,
+and lay off and on for nearly a week. The boys said the officers were
+sick of salt-junk, and meant to have turtle-soup before they came
+home. But after several days the _Warren_ came to the same rendezvous;
+they exchanged signals; she sent to Phillips and these homeward-bound
+men letters and papers, and told them she was outward-bound, perhaps
+to the Mediterranean, and took poor Nolan and his traps on the boat
+back to try his second cruise. He looked very blank when he was told
+to get ready to join her. He had known enough of the signs of the sky
+to know that till that moment he was going "home." But this was a
+distinct evidence of something he had not thought of, perhaps--that
+there was no going home for him, even to a prison. And this was the
+first of some twenty such transfers, which brought him sooner or later
+into half our best vessels, but which kept him all his life at least
+some hundred miles from the country he had hoped he might never hear
+of again.
+
+It may have been on that second cruise--it was once when he was up the
+Mediterranean,--that Mrs. Graff, the celebrated Southern beauty of
+those days, danced with him. They had been lying a long time in the
+Bay of Naples, and the officers were very intimate in the English
+fleet, and there had been great festivities, and our men thought they
+must give a great ball on board the ship. How they ever did it on
+board the _Warren_ I am sure I do not know. Perhaps it was not the
+_Warren_, or perhaps ladies did not take up so much room as they do
+now. They wanted to use Nolan's state-room for something, and they
+hated to do it without asking him to the ball; so the captain said
+they might ask him, if they would be responsible that he did not talk
+with the wrong people, "who would give him intelligence." So the dance
+went on, the finest party that had ever been known, I dare say; for I
+never heard of a man-of-war ball that was not. For ladies they had the
+family of the American consul, one or two travellers who had
+adventured so far, and a nice bevy of English girls and matrons,
+perhaps Lady Hamilton herself.
+
+Well, different officers relieved each other in standing and talking
+with Nolan in a friendly way, so as to be sure that nobody else spoke
+to him. The dancing went on with spirit, and after a while even the
+fellows who took this honorary guard of Nolan ceased to fear any
+_contretemps_. Only when some English lady--Lady Hamilton, as I said,
+perhaps--called for a set of "American dances," an odd thing happened.
+Everybody then danced contra-dances. The black band, nothing loath,
+conferred as to what "American dances" were, and started off with
+"Virginia Reel," which they followed with "Money Musk," which, in its
+turn in those days, should have been followed by "The Old Thirteen."
+But just as Dick, the leader, tapped for his fiddles to begin, and
+bent forward, about to say, in true negro state, "'The Old Thirteen,'
+gentlemen and ladies!" as he had said "'Virginny Reel,' if you
+please!" and "'Money-Musk,' if you please!" the captain's boy tapped
+him on the shoulder, whispered to him, and he did not announce the
+name of the dance; he merely bowed, began on the air, and they all
+fell to--the officers teaching the English girls the figure, but not
+telling them why it had no name.
+
+But that is not the story I started to tell. As the dancing went on,
+Nolan and our fellows all got at ease, as I said: so much so, that it
+seemed quite natural for him to bow to that splendid Mrs. Graff and
+say:
+
+"I hope you have not forgotten me, Miss Rutledge. Shall I have the
+honour of dancing?"
+
+He did it so quickly, that Fellows, who was with him, could not
+hinder him. She laughed and said:
+
+"I am not Miss Rutledge any longer, Mr. Nolan; but I will dance all
+the same," just nodded to Fellows, as if to say he must leave Mr.
+Nolan to her, and led him off to the place where the dance was
+forming.
+
+Nolan thought he had got his chance. He had known her at Philadelphia,
+and at other places had met her, and this was a godsend. You could not
+talk in contra-dances as you do in cotillions, or even in the pauses
+of waltzing; but there were chances for tongues and sounds, as well as
+for eyes and blushes. He began with her travels, and Europe, and
+Vesuvius, and the French; and then, when they had worked down, and had
+that long talking time at the bottom of the set, he said boldly--a
+little pale, she said, as she told me the story years after--
+
+"And what do you hear from home, Mrs. Graff?"
+
+And that splendid creature looked through him. Jove! how she must have
+looked through him!
+
+"Home!! Mr. Nolan!!! I thought you were the man who never wanted to
+hear of home again!"--and she walked directly up the deck to her
+husband, and left poor Nolan alone, as he always was.--He did not
+dance again. I cannot give any history of him in order; nobody can
+now; and, indeed, I am not trying to.
+
+These are the traditions, which I sort out, as I believe them, from
+the myths which have been told about this man for forty years. The
+lies that have been told about him are legion. The fellows used to say
+he was the "Iron Mask;" and poor George Pons went to his grave in the
+belief that this was the author of "Junius," who was being punished
+for his celebrated libel on Thomas Jefferson. Pons was not very strong
+in the historical line.
+
+A happier story than either of these I have told is of the war. That
+came along soon after. I have heard this affair told in three or four
+ways--and, indeed, it may have happened more than once. But which ship
+it was on I cannot tell. However, in one at least, of the great
+frigate-duels with the English, in which the navy was really baptised,
+it happened that a round-shot from the enemy entered one of our ports
+square, and took right down the officer of the gun himself, and almost
+every man of the gun's crew. Now you may say what you choose about
+courage, but that is not a nice thing to see. But, as the men who were
+not killed picked themselves up, and as they and the surgeon's people
+were carrying off the bodies, there appeared Nolan, in his
+shirt-sleeves, with the rammer in his hand, and, just as if he had
+been the officer, told them off with authority--who should go to the
+cock-pit with the wounded men, who should stay with him--perfectly
+cheery, and with that way which makes men feel sure all is right and
+is going to be right. And he finished loading the gun with his own
+hands, aimed it, and bade the men fire. And there he stayed, captain
+of that gun, keeping those fellows in spirits, till the enemy
+struck--sitting on the carriage while the gun was cooling, though he
+was exposed all the time--showing them easier ways to handle heavy
+shot--making the raw hands laugh at their own blunders--and when the
+gun cooled again, getting it loaded and fired twice as often as any
+other gun on the ship. The captain walked forward by way of
+encouraging the men, and Nolan touched his hat and said:
+
+"I am showing them how we do this in the artillery, sir."
+
+And this is the part of the story where all the legends agree; the
+commodore said:
+
+"I see you do, and I thank you, sir; and I shall never forget this
+day, sir, and you never shall, sir."
+
+And after the whole thing was over, and he had the Englishman's
+sword, in the midst of the state and ceremony of the quarter-deck, he
+said:
+
+"Where is Mr. Nolan? Ask Mr. Nolan to come here."
+
+And when Nolan came, he said:
+
+"Mr. Nolan, we are all very grateful to you to-day; you are one of us
+to-day; you will be named in the despatches."
+
+And then the old man took off his own sword of ceremony, and gave it
+to Nolan, and made him put it on. The man told me this who saw it.
+Nolan cried like a baby, and well he might. He had not worn a sword
+since that infernal day at Fort Adams. But always afterwards on
+occasions of ceremony, he wore that quaint old French sword of the
+commodore's.
+
+The captain did mention him in the despatches. It was always said he
+asked that he might be pardoned. He wrote a special letter to the
+Secretary of War. But nothing ever came of it. As I said, that was
+about the time when they began to ignore the whole transaction at
+Washington, and when Nolan's imprisonment began to carry itself on
+because there was nobody to stop it without any new orders from home.
+
+I have heard it said that he was with Porter when he took possession
+of the Nukahiwa Islands. Not this Porter, you know, but old Porter,
+his father, Essex Porter--that is, the old Essex Porter, not this
+Essex. As an artillery officer, who had seen service in the West,
+Nolan knew more about fortifications, embrasures, ravelins, stockades,
+and all that, than any of them did; and he worked with a right
+goodwill in fixing that battery all right. I have always thought it
+was a pity Porter did not leave him in command there with Gamble. That
+would have settled all the question about his punishment. We should
+have kept the islands, and at this moment we should have one station
+in the Pacific Ocean. Our French friends, too, when they wanted this
+little watering-place, would have found it was preoccupied. But
+Madison and the Virginians, of course, flung all that away.
+
+All that was near fifty years ago. If Nolan was thirty then, he must
+have been near eighty when he died. He looked sixty when he was forty.
+But he never seemed to me to change a hair afterwards. As I imagine
+his life, from what I have seen and heard of it, he must have been in
+every sea, and yet almost never on land. He must have known, in a
+formal way, more officers in our service than any man living knows. He
+told me once, with a grave smile, that no man in the world lived so
+methodical a life as he. "You know the boys say I am the Iron Mask,
+and you know how busy he was." He said it did not do for anyone to try
+to read all the time, more than to do anything else all the time; and
+that he used to read just five hours a day. "Then," he said, "I keep
+up my note-books, writing in them at such and such hours from what I
+have been reading; and I include in these my scrap-books." These were
+very curious indeed. He had six or eight, of different subjects. There
+was one of History, one of Natural Science, one which he called "Odds
+and Ends." But they were not merely books of extracts from newspapers.
+They had bits of plants and ribbons, shells tied on, and carved scraps
+of bone and wood, which he had taught the men to cut for him, and they
+were beautifully illustrated. He drew admirably. He had some of the
+funniest drawings there, and some of the most pathetic, that I have
+ever seen in my life. I wonder who will have Nolan's scrap-books.
+
+Well, he said his reading and his notes were his profession, and that
+they took five hours and two hours respectively of each day. "Then,"
+said he, "every man should have a diversion as well as a profession.
+My Natural History is my diversion." That took two hours a day more.
+The men used to bring him birds and fish, but on a long cruise he had
+to satisfy himself with centipedes and cockroaches and such small
+game. He was the only naturalist I ever met who knew anything about
+the habits of the house-fly and the mosquito. All those people can
+tell you whether they are _Lepidoptera_ or _Steptopotera_; but as for
+telling how you can get rid of them, or how they get away from you
+when you strike them--why Linnaeus knew as little of that as John Foy
+the idiot did. These nine hours made Nolan's regular daily
+"occupation." The rest of the time he talked or walked. Till he grew
+very old, he went aloft a great deal. He always kept up his exercise;
+and I never heard that he was ill. If any other man was ill, he was
+the kindest nurse in the world; and he knew more than half the
+surgeons do. Then if anybody was sick or died, or if the captain
+wanted him to, on any other occasion, he was always ready to read
+prayers. I have said that he read beautifully.
+
+My own acquaintance with Philip Nolan began six or eight years after
+the English war, on my first voyage after I was appointed a
+midshipman. It was in the first days after our Slave-Trade treaty,
+while the Reigning House, which was still the House of Virginia, had
+still a sort of sentimentalism about the suppression of the horrors of
+the Middle Passage, and something was sometimes done that way. We were
+in the South Atlantic on that business. From the time I joined, I
+believe I thought Nolan was a sort of lay chaplain--a chaplain with a
+blue coat. I never asked about him. Everything in the ship was strange
+to me. I knew it was green to ask questions, and I suppose I thought
+there was a "Plain-Buttons" on every ship. We had him to dine in our
+mess once a week, and the caution was given that on that day nothing
+was to be said about home. But if they had told us not to say anything
+about the planet Mars or the Book of Deuteronomy, I should not have
+asked why; there were a great many things which seemed to me to have
+as little reason. I first came to understand anything about "the man
+without a country" one day when we overhauled a dirty little schooner
+which had slaves on board. An officer was sent to take charge of her,
+and, after a few minutes, he sent back his boat to ask that someone
+might be sent him who could speak Portuguese. We were all looking over
+the rail when the message came, and we all wished we could interpret,
+when the captain asked who spoke Portuguese. But none of the officers
+did; and just as the captain was sending forward to ask if any of the
+people could, Nolan stepped out and said he should be glad to
+interpret, if the captain wished, as he understood the language. The
+captain thanked him, fitted out another boat with him, and in this
+boat it was my luck to go.
+
+When we got there, it was such a scene as you seldom see, and never
+want to. Nastiness beyond account, and chaos run loose in the midst of
+the nastiness. There were not a great many of the negroes; but by way
+of making what there were understand that they were free, Vaughan had
+had their handcuffs, and ankle-cuffs knocked off, and, for
+convenience's sake, was putting them upon the rascals of the
+schooner's crew. The negroes were, most of them, out of the hold, and
+swarming all round the dirty deck, with a central throng surrounding
+Vaughan and addressing him in every dialect, and _patois_ of a
+dialect, from the Zulu click up to the Parisian of Beledeljereed.
+
+As we came on deck, Vaughan looked down from a hogshead, on which he
+had mounted in desperation, and said--
+
+"For God's love, is there anybody who can make these wretches
+understand something? The men gave them rum, and that did not quiet
+them. I knocked that big fellow down twice, and that did not soothe
+him. And then I talked Choctaw to all of them together; and I'll be
+hanged if they understood that as well as they understood the
+English."
+
+Nolan said he could speak Portuguese, and one or two fine-looking
+Kroomen were dragged out, who, as it had been found already, had
+worked for the Portuguese on the coast at Fernando Po.
+
+"Tell them they are free," said Vaughan; "and tell them that these
+rascals are to be hanged as soon as we can get rope enough."
+
+Nolan "put that into Spanish," that is, he explained it in such
+Portuguese as the Kroomen could understand, and they in turn to such
+of the negroes as could understand them. Then there was such a yell of
+delight, clinching of fists, leaping and dancing, kissing of Nolan's
+feet, and a general rush made to the hogshead by way of spontaneous
+worship of Vaughan, as the _deus ex machina_ of the occasion.
+
+"Tell them," said Vaughan, well pleased, "that I will take them all to
+Cape Palmas."
+
+This did not answer so well. Cape Palmas was practically as far from
+the homes of most of them as New Orleans or Rio Janeiro was; that is
+they would be eternally separated from home there. And their
+interpreters, as we could understand, instantly said, "_Ah, non
+Palmas_" and began to propose infinite other expedients in most
+voluble language. Vaughan was rather disappointed at this result of
+his liberality, and asked Nolan eagerly what they said. The drops
+stood on poor Nolan's white forehead, as he hushed the men down, and
+said:
+
+"He says, 'Not Palmas.' He says, 'Take us home, take us to our own
+country, take us to our own house, take us to our own pickaninnies and
+our own women.' He says he has an old father and mother who will die
+if they do not see him. And this one says he left his people all sick,
+and paddled down to Fernando to beg the white doctor to come and help
+them, and that these devils caught him in the bay just in sight of
+home, and that he has never seen anybody from home since then. And
+this one says," choked out Nolan, "that he has not heard a word from
+his home in six months, while he has been locked up in an infernal
+barracoon."
+
+Vaughan always said he grew gray himself while Nolan struggled through
+this interpretation. I, who did not understand anything of the passion
+involved in it, saw that the very elements were melting with fervent
+heat, and that something was to pay somewhere. Even the negroes
+themselves stopped howling, as they saw Nolan's agony, and Vaughan's
+almost equal agony of sympathy. As quick as he could get words, he
+said:
+
+"Tell them yes, yes, yes; tell them they shall go to the Mountains of
+the Moon, if they will. If I sail the schooner through the Great White
+Desert, they shall go home!"
+
+And after some fashion Nolan said so. And then they all fell to
+kissing him again, and wanted to rub his nose with theirs.
+
+But he could not stand it long; and getting Vaughan to say he might go
+back, he beckoned me down into our boat. As we lay back in the
+stern-sheets and the men gave way, he said to me: "Youngster, let that
+show you what it is to be without a family, without a home, and
+without a country. And if you are ever tempted to say a word or to do
+a thing that shall put a bar between you and your family, your home,
+and your country, pray God in His mercy to take you that instant home
+to His own heaven. Stick by your family, boy; forget you have a self,
+while you do everything for them. Think of your home, boy; write and
+send, and talk about it. Let it be nearer and nearer to your thought,
+the farther you have to travel from it; and rush back to it when you
+are free, as that poor black slave is doing now. And for your country,
+boy," and the words rattled in his throat, "and for that flag," and he
+pointed to the ship, "never dream a dream but of serving her as she
+bids you, though the service carry you through a thousand hells. No
+matter what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or who abuses
+you, never look at another flag, never let a night pass but you pray
+God to bless that flag. Remember, boy, that behind all these men you
+have to do with, behind officers, and government, and people even,
+there is the Country Herself, your Country, and that you belong to Her
+as you belong to your own mother. Stand by Her, boy, as you would
+stand by your mother, if those devils there had got hold of her
+to-day!"
+
+I was frightened to death by his, calm, hard passion; but I blundered
+out that I would, by all that was holy, and that I had never thought
+of doing anything else. He hardly seemed to hear me; but he did,
+almost in a whisper, say: "O, if anybody had said so to me when I was
+of your age!"
+
+I think it was this half-confidence of his, which I never abused, for
+I never told this story till now, which afterward made us great
+friends. He was very kind to me. Often he sat up, or even got up, at
+night, to walk the deck with me, when it was my watch. He explained to
+me a great deal of my mathematics, and I owe to him my taste for
+mathematics. He lent me books, and helped me about my reading. He
+never alluded so directly to his story again; but from one and another
+officer I have learned, in thirty years, what I am telling. When we
+parted from him in St. Thomas harbour, at the end of our cruise, I was
+more sorry than I can tell. I was very glad to meet him again in 1830;
+and later in life, when I thought I had some influence in Washington,
+I moved heaven and earth to have him discharged. But it was like
+getting a ghost out of prison. They pretended there was no such man,
+and never was such a man. They will say so at the Department now!
+Perhaps they do not know. It will not be the first thing in the
+service of which the Department appears to know nothing!
+
+There is a story that Nolan met Burr once on one of our vessels, when
+a party of Americans came on board in the Mediterranean. But this I
+believe to be a lie; or, rather, it is a myth, _ben trovato_,
+involving a tremendous blowing-up with which he sunk Burr,--asking him
+how he liked to be "without a country." But it is clear from Burr's
+life, that nothing of the sort could have happened; and I mention this
+only as an illustration of the stories which get a-going where there
+is the least mystery at bottom.
+
+Philip Nolan, poor fellow, repented of his folly, and then, like a
+man, submitted to the fate he had asked for. He never intentionally
+added to the difficulty or delicacy of the charge of those who had him
+in hold. Accidents would happen; but never from his fault. Lieutenant
+Truxton told me that, when Texas was annexed, there was a careful
+discussion among the officers, whether they should get hold of Nolan's
+handsome set of maps and cut Texas out of it--from the map of the
+world and the map of Mexico. The United States had been cut out when
+the atlas was bought for him. But it was voted, rightly enough, that
+to do this would be virtually to reveal to him what had happened, or,
+as Harry Cole said, to make him think Old Burr had succeeded. So it
+was from no fault of Nolan's that a great botch happened at my own
+table, when, for a short time, I was in command of the _George
+Washington_ corvette, on the South American station. We were lying in
+the La Plata, and some of the officers, who had been on shore and had
+just joined again, were entertaining us with accounts of their
+misadventures in riding the half-wild horses of Buenos Ayres. Nolan
+was at table, and was in an unusually bright and talkative mood. Some
+story of a tumble reminded him of an adventure of his own when he was
+catching wild horses in Texas with his adventurous cousin, at a time
+when he must have been quite a boy. He told the story with a good deal
+of spirit--so much so, that the silence which often follows a good
+story hung over the table for an instant, to be broken by Nolan
+himself. For he asked perfectly unconsciously:
+
+"Pray, what has become of Texas? After the Mexicans got their
+independence, I thought that province of Texas would come forward very
+fast. It is really one of the finest regions on earth; it is the Italy
+of this continent. But I have not seen or heard a word of Texas for
+nearly twenty years."
+
+There were two Texan officers at the table. The reason he had never
+heard of Texas was that Texas and her affairs had been painfully cut
+out of his newspapers since Austin began his settlements; so that,
+while he read of Honduras and Tamaulipas, and, till quite lately, of
+California--this virgin province, in which his brother had travelled
+so far, and I believe, had died, had ceased to be to him. Waters and
+Williams, the two Texas men, looked grimly at each other and tried not
+to laugh. Edward Morris had his attention attracted by the third link
+in the chain of the captain's chandelier. Watrous was seized with a
+convulsion of sneezing. Nolan himself saw that something was to pay,
+he did not know what. And I, as master of the feast, had to say:
+
+"Texas is out of the map, Mr. Nolan. Have you seen Captain Back's
+curious account of Sir Thomas Roe's Welcome?"
+
+After that cruise I never saw Nolan again. I wrote to him at least
+twice a year, for in that voyage we became even confidentially
+intimate; but he never wrote to me. The other men tell me that in
+those fifteen years he _aged_ very fast, as well he might indeed, but
+that he was still the same gentle, uncomplaining, silent sufferer that
+he ever was, bearing as best he could his self-appointed
+punishment--rather less social, perhaps, with new men whom he did not
+know, but more anxious, apparently, than ever to serve and befriend
+and teach the boys, some of whom fairly seemed to worship him. And now
+it seems the dear old fellow is dead. He has found a home at last, and
+a country.
+
+Since writing this, and while considering whether or not I would print
+it, as a warning to the young Nolans and Vallandighams and Tatnalls of
+to-day of what it is to throw away a country, I have received from
+Danforth, who is on board the _Levant_, a letter which gives an
+account of Nolan's last hours. It removes all my doubts about telling
+this story.
+
+The reader will understand Danforth's letter, or the beginning of it,
+if he will remember that after ten years of Nolan's exile everyone who
+had him in charge was in a very delicate position. The government had
+failed to renew the order of 1807 regarding him. What was a man to do?
+Should he let him go? What, then, if he were called to account by the
+Department for violating the order of 1807? Should he keep him? What,
+then, if Nolan should be liberated some day, and should bring an
+action of false imprisonment or kidnapping against every man who had
+had him in charge? I urged and pressed this upon Southard, and I have
+reason to think that other officers did the same thing. But the
+Secretary always said, as they so often do at Washington, that there
+were no special orders to give, and that we must act on our own
+judgment. That means, "If you succeed, you will be sustained; if you
+fail, you will be disavowed." Well, as Danforth says, all that is over
+now, though I do not know but I expose myself to a criminal
+prosecution on the evidence of the very revelation I am making.
+
+Here is the letter:
+
+                           LEVANT, 2 deg. 2' S. at 131 deg. W.
+
+     DEAR FRED:
+
+     I try to find heart and life to tell you that it is all over
+     with dear old Nolan. I have been with him on this voyage
+     more than I ever was, and I can understand wholly now the
+     way in which you used to speak of the dear old fellow. I
+     could see that he was not strong, but I had no idea the end
+     was so near. The doctor has been watching him very
+     carefully, and yesterday morning came to me and told me that
+     Nolan was not so well, and had not left his state-room--a
+     thing I never remember before. He had let the doctor come
+     and see him as he lay there--the first time the doctor had
+     been in the state-room--and he said he should like to see
+     me. Oh, dear! do you remember the mysteries we boys used to
+     invent about his room in the old _Intrepid_ days? Well, I
+     went in, and there, to be sure, the poor fellow lay in his
+     berth, smiling pleasantly as he gave me his hand, but
+     looking very frail. I could not help a glance round, which
+     showed me what a little shrine he had made of the box he was
+     lying in. The Stars and Stripes were triced up above and
+     around a picture of Washington, and he had painted a
+     majestic eagle, with lightnings blazing from his beak and
+     his foot just clasping the whole globe, which his wings
+     overshadowed. The dear old boy saw my glance, and said, with
+     a sad smile, "Here, you see, I have a country!" And then he
+     pointed to the foot of his bed, where I had not seen before
+     a great map of the United States, as he had drawn it from
+     memory, and which he had there to look upon as he lay.
+     Quaint, queer old names were on it, in large letters:
+     "Indiana Territory," "Mississippi Territory," and "Louisiana
+     Territory." I suppose our fathers learned such things: but
+     the old fellow had patched in Texas, too; he had carried his
+     western boundary all the way to the Pacific, but on that
+     shore he had defined nothing.
+
+     "O Captain," he said, "I know I am dying. I cannot get home.
+     Surely you will tell me something now?--Stop! stop! Do not
+     speak till I say what I am sure you know, that there is not
+     in this ship, that there is not in America--God bless
+     her!--a more loyal man than I. There cannot be a man who
+     loves the old flag as I do, or prays for it as I do, or
+     hopes for it as I do. There are thirty-four stars in it now,
+     Danforth. I thank God for that, though I do not know what
+     their names are. There has never been one taken away: I
+     thank God for that. I know by that that there has never been
+     any successful Burr, O Danforth, Danforth," he sighed out,
+     "how like a wretched night's dream a boy's idea of personal
+     fame or of separate sovereignty seems; when one looks back
+     on it after such a life as mine! But tell me--tell me
+     something--tell me everything, Danforth, before I die!"
+
+     Ingham, I swear to you that I felt like a monster that I had
+     not told him everything before. Danger or no danger,
+     delicacy or no delicacy, who was I, that I should have been
+     acting the tyrant all this time over this dear, sainted old
+     man, who had years ago expiated, in his whole manhood's
+     life, the madness of a boy's treason? "Mr. Nolan," said I,
+     "I will tell you everything you ask about. Only, where shall
+     I begin?"
+
+     Oh, the blessed smile that crept over his white face! and he
+     pressed my hand and said, "God bless you! Tell me their
+     names," he said, and he pointed to the stars on the flag.
+     "The last I know is Ohio. My father lived in Kentucky. But I
+     have guessed Michigan and Indiana and Mississippi--that was
+     where Fort Adams is--they make twenty. But where are your
+     other fourteen? You have not cut up any of the old ones, I
+     hope?"
+
+     Well, that was not a bad text, and I told him the names in
+     as good order as I could, and he bade me take down his
+     beautiful map and draw them in as I best could with my
+     pencil. He was wild with delight about Texas, told me how
+     his cousin died there; he had marked a gold cross near where
+     he supposed his grave was; and he had guessed at Texas. Then
+     he was delighted as he saw California and Oregon,--that, he
+     said, he had suspected partly, because he had never been
+     permitted to land on that shore, though the ships were there
+     so much. "And the men," said he, laughing, "brought off a
+     good deal beside furs." Then he went back--heavens, how
+     far!--to ask about the _Chesapeake_, and what was done to
+     Barron for surrendering her to the _Leopard_, and whether
+     Burr ever tried again--and he ground his teeth with the only
+     passion he showed. But in a moment that was over, and he
+     said, "God forgive me, for I am sure I forgive him." Then he
+     asked about the old war--told me the true story of his
+     serving the gun the day we took the _Java_--asked about dear
+     old David Porter, as he called him. Then he settled down
+     more quietly, and very happily, to hear me tell in an hour
+     the history of fifty years.
+
+     How I wished it had been somebody who knew something! But I
+     did as well as I could. I told him of the English war. I
+     told him about Fulton and the steamboat beginning. I told
+     him about old Scott, and Jackson; told him all I could think
+     of about the Mississippi, and New Orleans, and Texas, and
+     his own old Kentucky. And do you think, he asked who was in
+     command of the "Legion of the West." I told him it was a
+     very gallant officer named Grant, and that, by our last
+     news, he was about to establish his headquarters at
+     Vicksburg. Then, "Where was Vicksburg?" I worked that out on
+     the map; it was about a hundred miles, more or less, above
+     his old Fort Adams and I thought Fort Adams must be a ruin
+     now. "It must be at old Vick's plantation, at Walnut Hills,"
+     said he: "well, that is a change!"
+
+     I tell you, Ingham, it was a hard thing to condense the
+     history of half a century into that talk with a sick man.
+     And I do not now know what I told him--of emigration, and
+     the means of it--of steamboats, and railroads, and
+     telegraphs--of inventions, and books, and literature--of the
+     colleges, and West Point, and the Naval School--but with the
+     queerest interruptions that ever you heard. You see it was
+     Robinson Crusoe asking all the accumulated questions of
+     fifty-six years!
+
+     I remember he asked, all of a sudden, who was President now;
+     and when I told him, he asked if Old Abe was General
+     Benjamin Lincoln's son. He said he met old General Lincoln,
+     when he was quite a boy himself, at some Indian treaty. I
+     said no, that Old Abe was a Kentuckian like himself, but I
+     could not tell him of what family; he had worked up from the
+     ranks. "Good for him!" cried Nolan; "I am glad of that. As I
+     have brooded and wondered, I have thought our danger was in
+     keeping up those regular successions in the first families."
+     Then I got talking about my visit to Washington. I told him
+     of meeting the Oregon Congressman, Harding; I told him about
+     the Smithsonian, and the Exploring Expedition; I told him
+     about the Capitol and the statues for the pediment, and
+     Crawford's Liberty, and Greenough's Washington: Ingham, I
+     told him everything I could think of that would show the
+     grandeur of his country and its prosperity; but I could not
+     make up my mouth to tell him a word about this infernal
+     rebellion!
+
+     And he drank it in and enjoyed it as I cannot tell you. He
+     grew more and more silent, yet I never thought he was tired
+     or faint. I gave him a glass of water, but he just wet his
+     lips, and told me not to go away. Then he asked me to bring
+     the Presbyterian "Book of Public Prayer" which lay there,
+     and said, with a smile, that it would open at the right
+     place--and so it did. There was his double red mark down the
+     page; and I knelt down and read, and he repeated with me,
+     "For ourselves and our country, O gracious God, we thank
+     Thee, that, notwithstanding our manifold transgressions of
+     Thy holy laws, Thou hast continued to us Thy marvellous
+     kindness," and so to the end of that thanksgiving. Then he
+     turned to the end of the same book, and I read the words
+     more familiar to me: "Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy
+     favour to behold and bless Thy servant, the President of the
+     United States, and all others in authority"--and the rest of
+     the Episcopal collect. "Danforth," said he "I have repeated
+     these prayers night and morning, it is now fifty-five
+     years." And then he said he would go to sleep. He bent me
+     down over him and kissed me; and he said, "Look in my Bible,
+     Captain, when I am gone." And I went away.
+
+     But I had no thought it was the end. I thought he was tired
+     and would sleep. I knew he was happy, and I wanted him to be
+     alone.
+
+     But in an hour, when the doctor went in gently, he found
+     Nolan had breathed his life away with a smile. He had
+     something pressed close to his lips. It was his father's
+     badge of the Order of the Cincinnati.
+
+     We looked in his Bible, and there was a slip of paper at the
+     place where he had marked the text--
+
+     "They desire a country, even a heavenly: wherefore God is
+     not ashamed to be called their God: for He hath prepared for
+     them a city."
+
+     On this slip of paper he had written:
+
+     "Bury me in the sea; it has been my home, and I love it. But
+     will not someone set up a stone for my memory at Fort Adams
+     or at Orleans, that my disgrace may not be more than I
+     ought to bear? Say on it:
+
+                    "_In Memory of_
+
+                    "PHILIP NOLAN,
+     "_Lieutenant in the Army of the United States._
+
+     "He loved his country as no other man has
+        loved her; but no man deserved less at
+                      her hands."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE NUeRNBERG STOVE
+
+
+August lived in a little town called Hall. Hall is a favourite name
+for several towns in Austria and in Germany; but this one especial
+little Hall, in the Upper Innthal, is one of the most charming
+Old-World places that I know, and August for his part did not know any
+other. It has the green meadows and the great mountains all about it,
+and the gray-green glacier-fed water rushes by it. It has paved
+streets and enchanting little shops that have all latticed panes and
+iron gratings to them; it has a very grand old Gothic church, that has
+the noblest blendings of light and shadow, and marble tombs of dead
+knights, and a look of infinite strength and repose as a church should
+have. Then there is the Muntze Tower, black and white, rising out of
+greenery and looking down on a long wooden bridge and the broad rapid
+river; and there is an old schloss which has been made into a
+guard-house, with battlements and frescoes and heraldic devices in
+gold and colours, and a man-at-arms carved in stone standing life-size
+in his niche and bearing his date 1530. A little farther on, but close
+at hand, is a cloister with beautiful marble columns and tombs, and a
+colossal wood-carved Calvary, and beside that a small and very rich
+chapel: indeed, so full is the little town of the undisturbed past,
+that to walk in it is like opening a missal of the Middle Ages, all
+emblazoned and illuminated with saints and warriors, and it is so
+clean, and so still, and so noble, by reason of its monuments and its
+historic colour, that I marvel much no one has ever cared to sing its
+praises. The old pious heroic life of an age at once more restful and
+more brave than ours still leaves its spirit there, and then there is
+the girdle of the mountains all around, and that alone means strength,
+peace, majesty.
+
+In this little town a few years ago August Strehla lived with his
+people in the stone-paved irregular square where the grand church
+stands.
+
+He was a small boy of nine years at that time--a chubby-faced little
+man with rosy cheeks, big hazel eyes, and clusters of curls the brown
+of ripe nuts. His mother was dead, his father was poor, and there were
+many mouths at home to feed. In this country the winters are long and
+very cold, the whole land lies wrapped in snow for many months, and
+this night that he was trotting home, with a jug of beer in his numb
+red hands, was terribly cold and dreary. The good burghers of Hall had
+shut their double shutters, and the few lamps there were flickered
+dully behind their quaint, old-fashioned iron casings. The mountains
+indeed were beautiful, all snow-white under the stars that are so big
+in frost. Hardly anyone was astir; a few good souls wending home from
+vespers, a tired post-boy who blew a shrill blast from his tasseled
+horn as he pulled up his sledge before a hostelry, and little August
+hugging his jug of beer to his ragged sheepskin coat, were all who
+were abroad, for the snow fell heavily and the good folks of Hall go
+early to their beds. He could not run, or he would have spilled the
+beer; he was half frozen and a little frightened, but he kept up his
+courage by saying over and over again to himself, "I shall soon be at
+home with dear Hirschvogel."
+
+He went on through the streets, past the stone man-at-arms of the
+guard-house, and so into the place where the great church was, and
+where near it stood his father Karl Strehla's house, with a sculptured
+Bethlehem over the doorway, and the Pilgrimage of the Three Kings
+painted on its wall. He had been sent on a long errand outside the
+gates in the afternoon, over the frozen fields and broad white snow,
+and had been belated, and had thought he had heard the wolves behind
+him at every step, and had reached the town in a great state of
+terror, thankful with all his little panting heart to see the oil-lamp
+burning under the first house-shrine. But he had not forgotten to call
+for the beer, and he carried it carefully now, though his hands were
+so numb that he was afraid they would let the jug down every moment.
+
+The snow outlined with white every gable and cornice of the beautiful
+old wooden houses; the moonlight shone on the gilded signs, the lambs,
+the grapes, the eagles, and all the quaint devices that hung before
+the doors; covered lamps burned before the Nativities and Crucifixions
+painted on the walls or let into the wood-work; here and there, where
+a shutter had not been closed, a ruddy fire-light lit up a homely
+interior, with the noisy band of children clustering round the
+house-mother and a big brown loaf, or some gossips spinning and
+listening to the cobbler's or the barber's story of a neighbour, while
+the oil-wicks glimmered, and the hearth-logs blazed, and the chestnuts
+sputtered in their iron roasting-pot. Little August saw all these
+things as he saw everything with his two big bright eyes that had such
+curious lights and shadows in them; but he went heedfully on his way
+for the sake of the beer which a single slip of the foot would make
+him spill. At his knock and call the solid oak door, four centuries
+old if one, flew open, and the boy darted in with his beer, and
+shouted, with all the force of mirthful lungs, "Oh, dear Hirschvogel,
+but for the thought of you I should have died!"
+
+It was a large barren room into which he rushed with so much pleasure,
+and the bricks were bare and uneven. It had a walnut-wood press,
+handsome and very old, a broad deal table, and several wooden stools
+for all its furniture; but at the top of the chamber, sending out
+warmth and colour together as the lamp sheds its rays upon it, was a
+tower of porcelain, burnished with all the hues of a king's peacock
+and a queen's jewels, and surmounted with armed figures, and shields,
+and flowers of heraldry, and a great golden crown upon the highest
+summit of all.
+
+It was a stove of 1532, and on it were the letters H.R.H., for it was
+in every portion the handwork of the great potter of Nuernberg,
+Augustin Hirschvogel, who put his mark thus, as all the world knows.
+
+The stove no doubt had stood in palaces and been made for princes, had
+warmed the crimson stockings of cardinals and the gold-broidered shoes
+of archduchesses, had glowed in presence-chambers and lent its carbon
+to help kindle sharp brains in anxious councils of state; no one knew
+what it had been or done or been fashioned for; but it was a right
+royal thing. Yet perhaps it had never been more useful than it was now
+in this poor desolate room, sending down heat and comfort into the
+troop of children tumbled together on a wolfskin at its feet, who
+received frozen August among them with loud shouts of joy.
+
+"O, dear Hirschvogel, I am so cold, so cold!" said August, kissing its
+gilded lion's claws. "Is father not in, Dorothea?"
+
+"No, dear. He is late."
+
+Dorothea was a girl of seventeen, dark-haired and serious, and with a
+sweet, sad face, for she had had many cares laid on her shoulders,
+even whilst still a mere baby. She was the eldest of the Strehla
+family; and there were ten of them in all. Next to her there came Jan
+and Karl and Otho, big lads, gaining a little for their own living;
+and then came August, who went up in the summer to the high Alps with
+the farmers' cattle, but in winter could do nothing to fill his own
+little platter and pot; and then all the little ones, who could only
+open their mouths to be fed like young birds--Albrecht and Hilda, and
+Waldo and Christof, and last of all little three-year-old Ermengilda,
+with eyes like forget-me-nots, whose birth had cost them the life of
+their mother.
+
+They were of that mixed race, half Austrian, half Italian, so common
+in the Tyrol; some of the children were white and golden as lilies,
+others were brown and brilliant as fresh-fallen chestnuts. The father
+was a good man, but weak and weary with so many to find for and so
+little to do it with. He worked at the salt-furnaces, and by that
+gained a few florins; people said he would have worked better and kept
+his family more easily if he had not loved his pipe and a draught of
+ale too well; but this had only been said of him after his wife's
+death, when trouble and perplexity had begun to dull a brain never too
+vigorous, and to enfeeble further a character already too yielding. As
+it was, the wolf often bayed at the door of the Strehla household,
+without a wolf from the mountains coming down. Dorothea was one of
+those maidens who almost work miracles, so far can their industry and
+care and intelligence make a home sweet and wholesome and a single
+loaf seem to swell into twenty. The children were always clean and
+happy, and the table was seldom without its big pot of soup once a
+day. Still, very poor they were, and Dorothea's heart ached with
+shame, for she knew that their father's debts were many for flour and
+meat and clothing. Or fuel to feed the big stove they had always
+enough without cost, for their mother's father was alive, and sold
+wood and fir cones and coke, and never grudged them to his
+grandchildren, though he grumbled at Strehla's improvidence and
+hapless, dreamy ways.
+
+"Father says we are never to wait for him: we will have supper, now
+you have come home, dear," said Dorothea, who, however she might fret
+her soul in secret as she knitted their hose and mended their shirts,
+never let her anxieties cast a gloom on the children; only to August
+she did speak a little sometimes, because he was so thoughtful and so
+tender of her always, and knew as well as she did that there were
+troubles about money--though these troubles were vague to them both,
+and the debtors were patient and kindly, being neighbours all in the
+old twisting streets between the guard-house and the river.
+
+Supper was a huge bowl of soup, with big slices of brown bread
+swimming in it and some onions bobbing up and down: the bowl was soon
+emptied by ten wooden spoons, and then the three eldest boys slipped
+off to bed, being tired with their rough bodily labour in the snow all
+day, and Dorothea drew her spinning-wheel by the stove and set it
+whirring, and the little ones got August down upon the old worn
+wolfskin and clamoured to him for a picture or a story. For August was
+the artist of the family.
+
+He had a piece of planed deal that his father had given him, and some
+sticks of charcoal, and he would draw a hundred things he had seen in
+the day, sweeping each out with his elbow when the children had seen
+enough of it and sketching another in its stead--faces and dogs'
+heads, and men in sledges, and old women in their furs, and
+pine-trees, and cocks and hens, and all sorts of animals, and now and
+then--very reverently--a Madonna and Child. It was all very rough, for
+there was no one to teach him anything But it was all life-like, and
+kept the whole troop of children shrieking with laughter, or watching
+breathless, with wide open, wondering, awed eyes.
+
+They were all so happy: what did they care for the snow outside? Their
+little bodies were warm, and their hearts merry; even Dorothea,
+troubled about the bread for the morrow, laughed as she spun; and
+August, with all his soul in his work, and little rosy Ermengilda's
+cheek on his shoulder, glowing after his frozen afternoon, cried out
+loud, smiling, as he looked up at the stove that was shedding its head
+down on them all:
+
+"Oh, dear Hirschvogel! you are almost as great and good as the sun!
+No; you are greater and better, I think, because he goes away nobody
+knows where all these long, dark, cold hours, and does not care how
+people die for want of him; but you--you are always ready: just a
+little bit of wood to feed you, and you will make a summer for us all
+the winter through!"
+
+The grand old stove seemed to smile through all its iridescent surface
+at the praises of the child. No doubt the stove, though it had known
+three centuries and more, had known but very little gratitude.
+
+It was one of those magnificent stoves in enamelled faience which so
+excited the jealousy of the other potters of Nuernberg that in a body
+they demanded of the magistracy that Augustin Hirschvogel should be
+forbidden to make any more of them--the magistracy, happily, proving
+of a broader mind, and having no sympathy with the wish of the
+artisans to cripple their greater fellow.
+
+It was of great height and breadth, with all the majolica lustre which
+Hirschvogel learned to give to his enamels when he was making love to
+the young Venetian girl whom he afterwards married. There was the
+statue of a king at each corner, modelled with as much force and
+splendour as his friend Albrecht Duerer could have given unto them on
+copperplate or canvas. The body of the stove itself was divided into
+panels, which had the Ages of Man painted on them in polychrome; the
+borders of the panels had roses and holly and laurel and other
+foliage, and German mottoes in black letter of odd Old-World
+moralising, such as the old Teutons, and the Dutch after them, love to
+have on their chimney-places and their drinking cups, their dishes and
+flagons. The whole was burnished with gilding in many parts, and was
+radiant everywhere with that brilliant colouring of which the
+Hirschvogel family, painters on glass and great in chemistry as they
+were, were all masters.
+
+The stove was a very grand thing, as I say: possibly Hirschvogel had
+made it for some mighty lord of the Tyrol at that time when he was an
+imperial guest at Innspruck and fashioned so many things for the
+Schloss Amras and beautiful Philippine Welser, the Burgher's daughter,
+who gained an Archduke's heart by her beauty and the right to wear his
+honors by her wit. Nothing was known of the stove at this latter day
+in Hall. The grandfather Strehla, who had been a master-mason, had dug
+it up out of some ruins where he was building, and, finding it without
+a flaw, had taken it home, and only thought it worth finding because
+it was such a good one to burn. That was now sixty years past, and
+ever since then the stove had stood in the big desolate empty room,
+warming three generations of the Strehla family, and having seen
+nothing prettier perhaps in all its many years than the children
+tumbled now in a cluster like gathered flowers at its feet. For the
+Strehla children, born to nothing else, were all born to beauty; white
+or brown, they were equally lovely to look upon, and when they went
+into the church to mass, with their curling locks and their clasped
+hands, they stood under the grim statues like cherubs flown down off
+some fresco.
+
+"Tell us a story, August," they cried, in chorus, when they had seen
+charcoal pictures till they were tired; and August did as he did every
+night, pretty nearly, looked up at the stove and told them what he
+imagined of the many adventures and joys and sorrows of the human
+being who figured on the panels from his cradle to his grave.
+
+To the children the stove was a household god. In summer they laid a
+mat of fresh moss all round it, and dressed it up with green boughs
+and the numberless beautiful wild flowers of the Tyrol country. In
+winter all their joys centred in it, and scampering home from school
+over the ice and snow they were happy, knowing that they would soon be
+cracking nuts or roasting chestnuts in the broad ardent glow of its
+noble tower, which rose eight feet high above them with all its spires
+and pinnacles and crowns.
+
+Once a travelling peddler had told them that the letters on it meant
+Augustin Hirschvogel, and that Hirschvogel had been a great German
+potter and painter, like his father before him, in the art-sanctified
+city of Nuernberg, and had made many such stoves, that were all
+miracles of beauty and of workmanship, putting all his heart and his
+soul and his faith into his labours, as the men of those earlier ages
+did, and thinking but little of gold or praise.
+
+An old trader, too, who sold curiosities not far from the church, had
+told August a little more about the brave family of Hirschvogel, whose
+houses can be seen in Nuernberg to this day; of old Veit, the first of
+them, who painted the Gothic windows of St. Sebald with the marriage
+of the Margravine; of his sons and of his grandsons, potters,
+painters, engravers all, and chief of them great Augustin, the Luca
+della Robbia of the North. And August's imagination, always quick,
+had made a living personage out of these few records, and saw
+Hirschvogel as though he were in the flesh walking up and down the
+Maximilian-Strass in his visit to Innspruck, and maturing beautiful
+things in his brain as he stood on the bridge and gazed on the
+emerald-green flood of the Inn.
+
+So the stove had got to be called Hirschvogel in the family, as if it
+were a living creature, and little August was very proud because he
+had been named after that famous old dead German who had had the
+genius to make so glorious a thing. All the children loved the stove,
+but with August the love of it was a passion; and in his secret heart
+he used to say to himself, "When I am a man, I will make just such
+things too, and then I will set Hirschvogel in a beautiful room in a
+house that I will build myself in Innspruck just outside the gates,
+where the chestnuts are, by the river: that is what I will do when I
+am a man."
+
+For August, a salt-baker's son and a little cow-keeper when he was
+anything, was a dreamer of dreams, and when he was upon the high Alps
+with his cattle, with the stillness and the sky around him, was quite
+certain that he would live for greater things than driving the herds
+up when the springtide came among the blue sea of gentians, or toiling
+down in the town with wood and with timber as his father and
+grandfather did every day of their lives. He was a strong and healthy
+little fellow, fed on the free mountain air, and he was very happy,
+and loved his family devotedly, and was as active as a squirrel and as
+playful as a hare; but he kept his thoughts to himself, and some of
+them went a very long way for a little boy who was only one among
+many, and to whom nobody had ever paid any attention except to teach
+him his letters and tell him to fear God. August in winter was only a
+little, hungry schoolboy, trotting to be catechised by the priest, or
+to bring the loaves from the bake-house, or to carry his father's
+boots to the cobbler; and in summer he was only one of hundreds of
+cow-boys, who drove the poor, half-blind, blinking, stumbling cattle,
+ringing their throat-bells, out into the sweet intoxication of the
+sudden sunlight, and lived up with them in the heights among the
+Alpine roses, with only the clouds and the snow-summits near. But he
+was always thinking, thinking, thinking, for all that; and under his
+little sheepskin winter coat and his rough hempen summer shirt his
+heart had as much courage in it as Hofer's ever had--great Hofer, who
+is a household word in all the Innthal, and whom August always
+reverently remembered when he went to the city of Innspruck and ran
+out by the foaming water-mill and under the wooded height of Berg
+Isel.
+
+August lay now in the warmth of the stove and told the children
+stories, his own little brown face growing red with excitement as his
+imagination glowed to fever heat. That human being on the panels, who
+was drawn there as a baby in a cradle, as a boy playing among flowers,
+as a lover sighing under a casement, as a soldier in the midst of
+strife, as a father with children round him, as a weary, old, blind
+man on crutches, and, lastly, as a ransomed soul raised up by angels,
+had always had the most intense interest for August, and he had made,
+not one history for him, but a thousand; he seldom told them the same
+tale twice. He had never seen a story-book in his life; his primer and
+his mass-book were all the volumes he had. But nature had given him
+Fancy, and she is a good fairy that makes up for the want of very many
+things! only, alas! her wings are so very soon broken, poor thing, and
+then she is of no use at all.
+
+"It is time for you all to go to bed, children," said Dorothea,
+looking up from her spinning. "Father is very late to-night; you must
+not sit up for him."
+
+"Oh, five minutes more, dear Dorothea!" they pleaded; and little rosy
+and golden Ermengilda climbed up into her lap. "Hirschvogel is so
+warm, the beds are never so warm as he. Cannot you tell us another
+tale, August?"
+
+"No," cried August, whose face had lost its light, now that his story
+had come to an end, and who sat serious, with his hands clasped on his
+knees, gazing on to the luminous arabesques of the stove.
+
+"It is only a week to Christmas," he said, suddenly.
+
+"Grandmother's big cakes!" chuckled little Christof, who was five
+years old, and thought Christmas meant a big cake and nothing else.
+
+"What will Santa Claus find for 'Gilda if she be good?" murmured
+Dorothea over the child's sunny head; for, however hard poverty might
+pinch, it could never pinch so tightly that Dorothea would not find
+some wooden toy and some rosy apples to put in her little sister's
+socks.
+
+"Father Max has promised me a big goose, because I saved the calf's
+life in June," said August; it was the twentieth time he had told them
+so that month, he was so proud of it.
+
+"And Aunt Maila will be sure to send us wine and honey and a barrel of
+flour; she always does," said Albrecht. Their aunt Maila had a chalet
+and a little farm over on the green slopes toward Dorf Ampas.
+
+"I shall go up into the woods and get Hirschvogel's crown," said
+August; they always crowned Hirschvogel for Christmas with pine boughs
+and ivy and mountain-berries. The heat soon withered the crown; but it
+was part of the religion of the day to them, as much so as it was to
+cross themselves in church and raise their voices in the "O Salutaris
+Hostia."
+
+And they fell chatting of all they would do on the Christmas night,
+and one little voice piped loud against another's, and they were as
+happy as though their stockings would be full of golden purses and
+jewelled toys, and the big goose in the soup-pot seemed to them such a
+meal as kings would envy.
+
+In the midst of their chatter and laughter a blast of frozen air and a
+spray of driven snow struck like ice through the room, and reached
+them even in the warmth of the old wolfskins and the great stove. It
+was the door which had opened and let in the cold; it was their father
+who had come home.
+
+The younger children ran joyous to meet him. Dorothea pushed the one
+wooden arm-chair of the room to the stove, and August flew to set the
+jug of beer on a little round table, and fill a long clay pipe; for
+their father was good to them all, and seldom raised his voice in
+anger, and they had been trained by the mother they had loved to
+dutifulness and obedience and a watchful affection.
+
+To-night Karl Strehla responded very wearily to the young ones'
+welcome, and came to the wooden chair with a tired step and sat down
+heavily, not noticing either pipe or beer.
+
+"Are you not well, dear father?" his daughter asked him.
+
+"I am well enough," he answered, dully and sat there with his head
+bent, letting the lighted pipe grow cold.
+
+He was a fair, tall man, gray before his time, and bowed with labour.
+
+"Take the children to bed," he said, suddenly, at last, and Dorothea
+obeyed. August stayed behind, curled before the stove; at nine years
+old, and when one earns money in the summer from the farmers, one is
+not altogether a child any more, at least in one's own estimation.
+
+August did not heed his father's silence: he was used to it. Karl
+Strehla was a man of few words, and, being of weakly health, was
+usually too tired at the end of the day to do more than drink his beer
+and sleep. August lay on the wolfskin dreamy and comfortable, looking
+up through his drooping eyelids at the golden coronets on the crest of
+the great stove, and wondering for the millionth time whom it had been
+made for, and what grand places and scenes it had known.
+
+Dorothea came down from putting the little ones in their beds; the
+cuckoo-clock in the corner struck eight; she looked to her father and
+the untouched pipe, then sat down to her spinning, saying nothing. She
+thought he had been drinking in some tavern; it had been often so with
+him of late.
+
+There was a long silence; the cuckoo called the quarter twice; August
+dropped asleep, his curls falling over his face; Dorothea's wheel
+hummed like a cat.
+
+Suddenly Karl Strehla struck his hand on the table, sending the pipe
+to the ground.
+
+"I have sold Hirschvogel," he said; and his voice was husky and
+ashamed in his throat. The spinning-wheel stopped. August sprang erect
+out of his sleep.
+
+"Sold Hirschvogel!" If their father had dashed the holy crucifix on
+the floor at their feet and spat on it, they could not have shuddered
+under the horror of a greater blasphemy.
+
+"I have sold Hirschvogel!" said Karl Strehla, in the same husky,
+dogged voice. "I have sold it to a travelling trader in such things
+for two hundred florins. What would you?--I owe double that. He saw it
+this morning when you were all out. He will pack it and take it to
+Munich to-morrow."
+
+Dorothea gave a low shrill cry:
+
+"Oh, father?--the children--in midwinter!"
+
+She turned white as the snow without; her words died away in her
+throat.
+
+August stood, half blind with sleep, staring with dazed eyes as his
+cattle stared at the sun when they came out from their winter's
+prison.
+
+"It is not true. It is not true!" he muttered. "You are jesting,
+father?"
+
+Strehla broke into a dreary laugh.
+
+"It is true. Would you like to know what is true too? that the bread
+you eat, and the meat you put in this pot, and the roof you have over
+your heads, are none of them paid for, have been none of them paid
+for, for months and months; if it had not been for your grandfather I
+should have been in prison all summer and autumn, and he is out of
+patience and will do no more now. There is no work to be had; the
+masters go to younger men: they say I work ill; it may be so. Who can
+keep his head above water with ten hungry children dragging him down?
+When your mother lived it was different. Boy, you stare at me as if I
+were a mad dog. You have made a god of yon china thing. Well--it goes,
+goes to-morrow. Two hundred florins, that is something. It will keep
+me out of prison for a little and with the spring things may turn--"
+
+August stood like a creature paralysed. His eyes were wide open,
+fastened on his father's with terror and incredulous horror; his face
+had grown as white as his sister's; his chest heaved with tearless
+sobs.
+
+"It is not true! It is not true!" he echoed stupidly. It seemed to him
+that the very skies must fall, and the earth perish, if they could
+take away Hirschvogel. They might as soon talk of tearing down God's
+sun out of the heavens.
+
+"You will find it true," said his father, doggedly, and angered
+because he was in his own soul bitterly ashamed to have bartered away
+the heirloom and treasure of his race, and the comfort and healthgiver
+of his young children. "You will find it true. The dealer has paid me
+half the money to-night, and will pay me the other half to-morrow when
+he packs it up and takes it away to Munich. No doubt it is worth a
+great deal more--at least I suppose so, as he gives that--but beggars
+cannot be choosers. The little black stove in the kitchen will warm
+you all just as well. Who would keep a gilded, painted thing in a poor
+house like this, when one can make two hundred florins by it?
+Dorothea, you never sobbed more when your mother died. What is it,
+when all is said?--a bit of hardware, much too grand-looking for such
+a room as this. If all the Strehlas had not been born fools it would
+have been sold a century ago, when it was dug up out of the ground.
+'It is a stove for a museum,' the trader said when he saw it. 'To a
+museum let it go.'"
+
+August gave a shrill shriek like a hare's when it is caught for its
+death, and threw himself on his knees at his father's feet.
+
+"Oh, father, father!" he cried, convulsively, his hands closing on
+Strehla's knees, and his uplifted face blanched and distorted with
+terror. "Oh, father, dear father, you cannot mean what you say? Send
+_it_ away--our life, our sun, our joy, our comfort? we shall all die
+in the dark and the cold. Sell _me_ rather. Sell me to any trade or
+any pain you like; I will not mind. But Hirschvogel! it is like
+selling the very cross off the altar! You must be in jest. You could
+not do such a thing--you could not--you who have always been gentle
+and good, and who have sat in the warmth here year after year with our
+mother. It is not a piece of hardware, as you say; it is a living
+thing, for a great man's thoughts and fancies have put life into it,
+and it loves us, though we are only poor little children, and we love
+it with all our hearts and souls, and up in heaven I am sure the dead
+Hirschvogel knows! Oh, listen; I will go and try and get work
+to-morrow; I will ask them to let me cut ice or make the paths through
+the snow. There must be something I could do, and I will beg the
+people we owe money to, to wait; they are all neighbours, they will be
+patient. But sell Hirschvogel! oh, never! never! never! Give the
+florins back to the vile man. Tell him it would be like selling the
+shroud out of mother's coffin, or the golden curls off Ermengilda's
+head! Oh, father, dear father! do hear me, for pity's sake!"
+
+Strehla was moved by the boy's anguish. He loved his children, though
+he was often weary of them, and their pain was pain to him. But beside
+emotion, and stronger than emotion, was the anger that August roused
+in him: he hated and despised himself for the barter of the heirloom
+of his race, and every word of the child stung him with a stinging
+sense of shame.
+
+And he spoke in his wrath rather than in his sorrow.
+
+"You are a little fool," he said, harshly, as they had never heard him
+speak. "You rave like a play-actor. Get up and go to bed. The stove is
+sold. There is no more to be said. Children like you have nothing to
+do with such matters. The stove is sold, and goes to Munich to-morrow.
+What is it to you? Be thankful I can get bread for you. Get on your
+legs, I say, and go to bed."
+
+Strehla took up the jug of ale as he paused, and drained it slowly as
+a man who had no cares.
+
+August sprang to his feet and threw his hair back off his face; the
+blood rushed into his cheeks, making them scarlet: his great soft eyes
+flamed alight with furious passion.
+
+"You _dare_ not!" he cried, aloud, "you dare not sell it, I say! It
+is not yours alone; it is ours--"
+
+Strehla flung the emptied jug on the bricks with a force that shivered
+it to atoms, and, rising to his feet, struck his son a blow that
+felled him to the floor. It was the first time in all his life that he
+had ever raised his hand against any one of his children.
+
+Then he took the oil-lamp that stood at his elbow and stumbled off to
+his own chamber with a cloud before his eyes.
+
+"What has happened?" said August, a little while later, as he opened
+his eyes and saw Dorothea weeping above him on the wolfskin before the
+stove. He had been struck backward, and his head had fallen on the
+hard bricks where the wolfskin did not reach. He sat up a moment, with
+his face bent upon his hands.
+
+"I remember now," he said, very low, under his breath.
+
+Dorothea showered kisses on him, while her tears fell like rain.
+
+"But, oh, dear, how could you speak so to father?" she murmured. "It
+was very wrong."
+
+"No, I was right," said August, and his little mouth, that hitherto
+had only curled in laughter, curved downward with a fixed and bitter
+seriousness. "How dare he? How dare he?" he muttered, with his head
+sunk in his hands. "It is not his alone. It belongs to us all. It is
+as much yours and mine as it is his."
+
+Dorothea could only sob in answer. She was too frightened to speak.
+The authority of their parents in the house had never in her
+remembrance been questioned.
+
+"Are you hurt by the fall dear August?" she murmured, at length, for
+he looked to her so pale and strange.
+
+"Yes--no. I do not know. What does it matter?"
+
+He sat up upon the wolfskin with passionate pain upon his face; all
+his soul was in rebellion, and he was only a child and was powerless.
+
+"It is a sin; it is a theft; it is an infamy," he said slowly, his
+eyes fastened on the gilded feet of Hirschvogel.
+
+"Oh, August, do not say such things of father!" sobbed his sister.
+"Whatever he does, _we_ ought to think it right."
+
+August laughed aloud.
+
+"Is it right that he should spend his money in drink?--that he should
+let orders lie unexecuted?--that he should do his work so ill that no
+one cares to employ him?--that he should live on grandfather's
+charity, and then dare sell a thing that is ours every whit as much as
+it is his? To sell Hirschvogel! Oh, dear God! I would sooner sell my
+soul!"
+
+"August!" cried Dorothea, with piteous entreaty. He terrified her, she
+could not recognise her little, gay, gentle brother in those fierce
+and blasphemous words.
+
+August laughed aloud again; then all at once his laughter broke down
+into bitterest weeping. He threw himself forward on the stove,
+covering it with kisses, and sobbing as though his heart would burst
+from his bosom.
+
+What could he do? Nothing, nothing, nothing!
+
+"August, dear August," whispered Dorothea piteously, and trembling all
+over--for she was a very gentle girl, and fierce feeling terrified
+her--"August, do not lie there. Come to bed: it is quite late. In the
+morning you will be calmer. It is horrible indeed, and we shall die of
+cold, at least the little ones; but if it be father's will--"
+
+"Let me alone," said August, through his teeth, striving to still the
+storm of sobs that shook him from head to foot. "Let me alone. In the
+morning!--how can you speak of the morning?"
+
+"Come to bed, dear," sighed his sister. "Oh, August, do not lie and
+look like that! you frighten me. Do come to bed."
+
+"I shall stay here."
+
+"Here! all night!"
+
+"They might take it in the night. Besides, to leave it _now_."
+
+"But it is cold! the fire is out."
+
+"It will never be warm any more, nor shall we."
+
+All his childhood had gone out of him, all his gleeful, careless,
+sunny temper had gone with it; he spoke sullenly and wearily, choking
+down the great sobs in his chest. To him it was as if the end of the
+world had come.
+
+His sister lingered by him while striving to persuade him to go to his
+place in the little crowded bedchamber with Albrecht and Waldo and
+Christof. But it was in vain. "I shall stay here," was all he answered
+her. And he stayed--all the night long.
+
+The lamps went out; the rats came and ran across the floor; as the
+hours crept on through midnight and past, the cold intensified and the
+air of the room grew like ice. August did not move; he lay with his
+face downward on the golden and rainbow hued pedestal of the household
+treasure, which henceforth was to be cold for evermore, an exiled
+thing in a foreign city in a far-off land.
+
+Whilst yet it was dark his three elder brothers came down the stairs
+and let themselves out, each bearing his lantern and going to his work
+in stone-yard and timber-yard and at the salt-works. They did not
+notice him; they did not know what had happened.
+
+A little later his sister came down with a light in her hand to make
+ready the house ere morning should break.
+
+She stole up to him and laid her hand on his shoulder timidly.
+
+"Dear August, you must be frozen. August, do look up! do speak!"
+
+August raised his eyes with a wild, feverish, sullen look in them that
+she had never seen there. His face was ashen white: his lips were like
+fire. He had not slept all night; but his passionate sobs had given
+way to delirious waking dreams and numb senseless trances, which had
+alternated one on another all through the freezing, lonely, horrible
+hours.
+
+"It will never be warm again," he muttered, "never again!"
+
+Dorothea clasped him with trembling hands.
+
+"August! do you not know me!" she cried, in an agony. "I am Dorothea.
+Wake up, dear--wake up! It is morning, only so dark!"
+
+August shuddered all over.
+
+"The morning!" he echoed.
+
+He slowly rose up on to his feet.
+
+"I will go to grandfather," he said, very low. "He is always good:
+perhaps he could save it."
+
+Loud blows with the heavy iron knocker of the house-door drowned his
+words. A strange voice called aloud through the keyhole:
+
+"Let me in! Quick!--there is no time to lose! More snow like this, and
+the roads will be all blocked. Let me in. Do you hear? I am come to
+take the great stove."
+
+August sprang erect, his fists doubled, his eyes blazing.
+
+"You shall never touch it!" he screamed; "you shall never touch it!"
+
+"Who shall prevent us?" laughed a big man, who was a Bavarian, amused
+at the fierce little figure fronting him.
+
+"I!" said August "You shall never have it! you shall kill me first!"
+
+"Strehla," said the big man, as August's father entered the room,
+"you have got a little mad dog here: muzzle him."
+
+One way and another they did muzzle him. He fought like a little
+demon, and hit out right and left, and one of his blows gave the
+Bavarian a black eye. But he was soon mastered by four grown men, and
+his father flung him with no light hand out from the door of the back
+entrance, and the buyers of the stately and beautiful stove set to
+work to pack it heedfully and carry it away.
+
+When Dorothea stole out to look for August, he was nowhere in sight.
+She went back to little 'Gilda, who was ailing, and sobbed over the
+child, whilst the others stood looking on, dimly understanding that
+with Hirschvogel was going all the warmth of their bodies, all the
+light of their hearth.
+
+Even their father now was very sorry and ashamed; but two hundred
+florins seemed a big sum to him, and, after all, he thought the
+children could warm themselves quite as well at the black iron stove
+in the kitchen. Besides, whether he regretted it now or not, the work
+of the Nuernberg potter was sold irrevocably, and he had to stand still
+and see the men from Munich wrap it in manifold wrappings and bear it
+out into the snowy air to where an ox-cart stood in waiting for it.
+
+In another moment Hirschvogel was gone--gone forever and aye.
+
+August stood still for a time, leaning, sick and faint from the
+violence that had been used to him, against the back wall of the
+house. The wall looked on a court where a well was, and the backs of
+other houses, and beyond them the spire of the Muntze Tower and the
+peaks of the mountains.
+
+Into the court an old neighbour hobbled for water, and, seeing the
+boy, said to him:
+
+"Child, is it true your father is selling the big painted stove?"
+
+August nodded his head, then burst into a passion of tears.
+
+"Well, for sure he is a fool," said the neighbour. "Heaven forgive me
+for calling him so before his own child! but the stove was worth a
+mint of money. I do remember in my young days, in old Anton's time
+(that was your great-grandfather, my lad), a stranger from Vienna saw
+it, and said that it was worth its weight in gold."
+
+August's sobs went on their broken, impetuous course.
+
+"I loved it! I loved it!" he moaned. "I do not care what its value
+was. I loved it! _I loved it_!"
+
+"You little simpleton!" said the old man, kindly. "But you are wiser
+than your father, when all's said. If sell it he must, he should have
+taken it to good Herr Steiner over at Spruez, who would have given him
+honest value. But no doubt they took him over his beer, ay, ay! but if
+I were you I would do better than cry. I would go after it."
+
+August raised his head, the tears raining down his cheeks.
+
+"Go after it when you are bigger," said the neighbour, with a
+good-natured wish to cheer him up a little. "The world is a small
+thing after all: I was a travelling clockmaker once upon a time, and I
+know that your stove will be safe enough whoever gets it; anything
+that can be sold for a round sum is always wrapped up in cotton wool
+by everybody. Ay, ay, don't cry so much; you will see your stove again
+some day."
+
+Then the old man hobbled away to draw his brazen pail full of water at
+the well.
+
+August remained leaning against the wall; his head was buzzing and his
+heart fluttering with the new idea which had presented itself to his
+mind. "Go after it," had said the old man. He thought, "Why not go
+with it?" He loved it better than anyone, even better than Dorothea;
+and he shrank from the thought of meeting his father again, his father
+who had sold Hirschvogel.
+
+He was by this time in that state of exaltation in which the
+impossible looks quite natural and commonplace. His tears were still
+wet on his pale cheeks, but they had ceased to fall. He ran out of the
+court-yard by a little gate, and across to the huge Gothic porch of
+the church. From there he could watch unseen his father's house-door,
+at which were always hanging some blue-and-gray pitchers, such as are
+common and so picturesque in Austria, for a part of the house was let
+to a man who dealt in pottery.
+
+He hid himself in the grand portico, which he had so often passed
+through to go to mass or compline within, and presently his heart gave
+a great leap, for he saw the straw-enwrapped stove brought out and
+laid with infinite care on the bullock-dray. Two of the Bavarian men
+mounted beside it, and the sleigh-wagon slowly crept over the snow of
+the place--snow crisp and hard as stone. The noble old minster looked
+its grandest and most solemn, with its dark-gray stone and its vast
+archways, and its porch that was itself as big as many a church, and
+its strange gargoyles and lamp-irons black against the snow on its
+roof and on the pavement; but for once August had no eyes for it; he
+only watched for his old friend. Then he, a little unnoticeable figure
+enough, like a score of other boys in Hall, crept, unseen by any of
+his brothers or sisters, out of the porch and over the shelving uneven
+square, and followed in the wake of the dray.
+
+Its course lay toward the station of the railway, which is close to
+the salt-works, whose smoke at times sullies this part of clean little
+Hall, though it does not do very much damage. From Hall the iron road
+runs northward through glorious country to Salzburg, Vienna, Prague,
+Buda, and southward over the Brenner into Italy. Was Hirschvogel going
+north or south? This at least he would soon know.
+
+August had often hung about the little station, watching the trains
+come and go and dive into the heart of the hills and vanish. No one
+said anything to him for idling about; people are kind-hearted and
+easy of temper in this pleasant land, and children and dogs are both
+happy there. He heard the Bavarians arguing and vociferating a great
+deal, and learned that they meant to go too and wanted to go with the
+great stove itself. But this they could not do, for neither could the
+stove go by a passenger train nor they themselves go in a goods-train.
+So at length they insured their precious burden for a large sum, and
+consented to send it by a luggage train which was to pass through Hall
+in half an hour. The swift trains seldom deign to notice the existence
+of Hall at all.
+
+August heard, and a desperate resolve made itself up in his little
+mind. Where Hirschvogel went would he go. He gave one terrible thought
+to Dorothea--poor, gentle Dorothea!--sitting in the cold at home, then
+set to work to execute his project. How he managed it he never knew
+very clearly himself, but certain it is that when the goods-train from
+the north, that had come all the way from Linz on the Danube, moved
+out of Hall, August was hidden behind the stove in the great covered
+truck, and wedged, unseen and undreamt of by any human creature,
+amidst the cases of wood-carving, of clocks and clock-work, of Vienna
+toys, of Turkish carpets, of Russian skins, of Hungarian wines, which
+shared the same abode as did his swathed and bound Hirschvogel. No
+doubt he was very naughty, but it never occurred to him that he was
+so: his whole mind and soul were absorbed in the one entrancing idea,
+to follow his beloved friend and fire-king.
+
+It was very dark in the closed truck, which had only a little window
+above the door; and it was crowded, and had a strong smell in it from
+the Russian hides and the hams that were in it. But August was not
+frightened; he was close to Hirschvogel, and presently he meant to be
+closer still; for he meant to do nothing less than get inside
+Hirschvogel itself. Being a shrewd little boy, and having had by great
+luck two silver groschen in his breeches-pocket, which he had earned
+the day before by chopping wood, he had bought some bread and sausage
+at the station of a woman there who knew him, and who thought he was
+going out to his uncle Joachim's chalet above Jenbach. This he had
+with him, and this he ate in the darkness and the lumbering, pounding,
+thundering noise which made him giddy, as never had he been in a train
+of any kind before. Still he ate, having had no breakfast, and being a
+child, and half a German, and not knowing at all how or when he ever
+would eat again.
+
+When he had eaten, not as much as he wanted, but as much as he thought
+was prudent (for who could say when he would be able to buy anything
+more?), he set to work like a little mouse to make a hole in the
+withes of straw and hay which enveloped the stove. If it had been put
+in a packing-case he would have been defeated at the onset. As it was,
+he gnawed, and nibbled, and pulled, and pushed, just as a mouse would
+have done, making his hole where he guessed that the opening of the
+stove was--the opening through which he had so often thrust the big
+oak logs to feed it. No one disturbed him; the heavy train went
+lumbering on and on, and he saw nothing at all of the beautiful
+mountains, and shining waters, and great forests through which he was
+being carried. He was hard at work getting through the straw and hay
+and twisted ropes; and get through them at last he did, and found the
+door of the stove, which he knew so well, and which was quite large
+enough for a child of his age to slip through, and it was this which
+he had counted upon doing. Slip through he did, as he had often done
+at home for fun, and curled himself up there to see if he could anyhow
+remain during many hours. He found that he could; air came in through
+the brass fretwork of the stove; and with admirable caution in such a
+little fellow he leaned out, drew the hay and straw together,
+rearranged the ropes, so that no one could ever have dreamed a little
+mouse had been at them. Then he curled himself up again, this time
+more like a dormouse than anything else; and, being safe inside his
+dear Hirschvogel and intensely cold, he went fast asleep as if he were
+in his own bed at home with Albrecht, and Christof on either side of
+him. The train lumbered on, stopped often and long, as the habit of
+goods-trains is, sweeping the snow away with its cow-switcher, and
+rumbling through the deep heart of the mountains, with its lamps aglow
+like the eyes of a dog in a night of frost.
+
+The train rolled on in its heavy, slow fashion, and the child slept
+soundly, for a long while. When he did awake, it was quite dark
+outside in the land; he could not see, and of course he was in
+absolute darkness; and for a while he was solely frightened, and
+trembled terribly, and sobbed in a quiet heart-broken fashion,
+thinking of them all at home. Poor Dorothea! how anxious she would be!
+How she would run over the town and walk up to grandfather's at Dorf
+Ampas, and perhaps even send over to Jenbach, thinking he had taken
+refuge with Uncle Joachim! His conscience smote him for the sorrow he
+must be even then causing to his gentle sister; but it never occurred
+to him to try and go back. If he once were to lose sight of
+Hirschvogel how could he ever hope to find it again? how could he ever
+know whither it had gone--north, south, east or west? The old
+neighbour had said that the world was small; but August knew at least
+that it must have a great many places in it; that he had seen himself
+on the maps on his school-house walls. Almost any other little boy
+would, I think, have been frightened out of his wits at the position
+in which he found himself; but August was brave, and he had a firm
+belief that God and Hirschvogel would take care of him. The
+master-potter of Nuernberg was always present to his mind, a kindly,
+benign, and gracious spirit, dwelling manifestly in that porcelain
+tower whereof he had been the maker.
+
+A droll fancy, you say? But every child with a soul in him has quite
+as quaint fancies as this one was of August's.
+
+So he got over his terror and his sobbing both, though he was so
+utterly in the dark. He did not feel cramped at all, because the stove
+was so large, and air he had in plenty, as it came through the
+fretwork running round the top. He was hungry again, and again nibbled
+with prudence at his loaf and his sausage. He could not at all tell
+the hour. Every time the train stopped and he heard the banging,
+stamping, shouting, and jangling of chains that went on, his heart
+seemed to jump up into his mouth. If they should find him out!
+Sometimes porters came and took away this case and the other, a sack
+here, a bale there, now a big bag, now a dead chamois. Every time the
+men trampled near him, and swore at each other, and banged this and
+that to and fro, he was so frightened that his very breath seemed to
+stop. When they came to lift the stove out, would they find him? and
+if they did find him, would they kill him? That was what he kept
+thinking of all the way, all through the dark hours, which seemed
+without end. The goods-trains are usually very slow, and are many days
+doing what a quick train does in a few hours. This one was quicker
+than most, because it was bearing goods to the King of Bavaria; still,
+it took all the short winter's day and the long winter's night and
+half another day to go over ground that the mail-trains cover in a
+forenoon. It passed great armoured Kuffstein standing across the
+beautiful and solemn gorge, denying the right of way to all the foes
+of Austria. It passed twelve hours later, after lying by in
+out-of-the-way stations, pretty Rosenheim, that marks the border of
+Bavaria. And here the Nuernberg stove, with August inside it, was
+lifted out heedfully and set under a covered way. When it was lifted
+out, the boy had hard work to keep in his screams; he was tossed to
+and fro as the men lifted the huge thing, and the earthenware walls of
+his beloved fire-king were not cushions of down. However, though they
+swore and grumbled at the weight of it, they never suspected that a
+living child was inside it, and they carried it out on to the platform
+and set it down under the roof of the goods-shed. There it passed the
+rest of the night and all the next morning, and August was all the
+while within it.
+
+The winds of early winter sweep bitterly over Rosenheim, and all the
+vast Bavarian plain was one white sheet of snow. If there had not been
+whole armies of men at work always clearing the iron rails of the
+snow, no trains could ever have run at all. Happily for August, the
+thick wrappings in which the stove was enveloped and the stoutness of
+its own make screened him from the cold, of which, else, he must have
+died--frozen. He had still some of his loaf, and a little--a very
+little--of his sausage. What he did begin to suffer from was thirst;
+and this frightened him almost more than anything else, for Dorothea
+had read aloud to them one night a story of the tortures some wrecked
+men had endured because they could not find any water but the salt
+sea. It was many hours since he had last taken a drink from the
+wooden spout of their old pump, which brought them the sparkling,
+ice-cold water of the hills.
+
+But, fortunately for him, the stove having been marked and registered
+as "fragile and valuable," was not treated quite like a mere bale of
+goods, and the Rosenheim stationmaster, who knew its consignees,
+resolved to send it on by a passenger-train that would leave there at
+daybreak. And when this train went out, in it, among piles of luggage
+belonging to other travellers, to Vienna, Prague, Buda-Pest, Salzburg,
+was August, still undiscovered, still doubled up like a mole in the
+winter under the grass. Those words, "fragile and valuable," had made
+the men lift Hirschvogel gently and with care. He had begun to get
+used to his prison, and a little used to the incessant pounding and
+jumbling and rattling and shaking with which modern travel is always
+accompanied, though modern invention does deem itself so mightily
+clever. All in the dark he was, and he was terribly thirsty; but he
+kept feeling the earthenware sides of the Nuernberg giant and saying,
+softly, "Take care of me; oh, take care of me, dear Hirschvogel!"
+
+He did not say, "Take me back;" for, now that he was fairly out in the
+world, he wished to see a little of it. He began to think that they
+must have been all over the world in all this time that the rolling
+and roaring and hissing and jangling had been about his ears; shut up
+in the dark, he began to remember all the tales that had been told in
+Yule round the fire at his grandfather's good house at Dorf, of gnomes
+and elves and subterranean terrors, and the Erl King riding on the
+black horse of night, and--and--and he began to sob and to tremble
+again, and this time did scream outright. But the steam was screaming
+itself so loudly that no one, had there been anyone nigh, would have
+heard him; and in another minute or so the train stopped with a jar
+and a jerk, and he in his cage could hear men crying aloud, "Muenchen!
+Muenchen!"
+
+Then he knew enough of geography to know that he was in the heart of
+Bavaria. He had had an uncle killed in the Bayerischenwald by the
+Bavarian forest guards, when in the excitement of hunting a black bear
+he had overpassed the limits of the Tyrol frontier.
+
+That fate of his kinsman, a gallant young chamois-hunter who had
+taught him to handle a trigger and load a muzzle, made the very name
+of Bavaria a terror to August.
+
+"It is Bavaria! It is Bavaria!" he sobbed to the stove; but the stove
+said nothing to him; it had no fire in it. A stove can no more speak
+without fire than a man can see without light. Give it fire, and it
+will sing to you, tell tales to you, offer you in return all the
+sympathy you ask.
+
+"It is Bavaria!" sobbed August; for it is always a name of dread
+augury to the Tyroleans, by reason of those bitter struggles and
+midnight shots and untimely deaths which come from those meetings of
+jaeger and hunter in the Bayerischenwald. But the train stopped; Munich
+was reached, and August, hot and cold by turns, and shaking like a
+little aspen-leaf, felt himself once more carried out on the shoulders
+of men, rolled along on a truck, and finally set down, where he knew
+not, only he knew he was thirsty--so thirsty! If only he could have
+reached his hand out and scooped up a little snow!
+
+He thought he had been moved on this truck many miles, but in truth
+the stove had been only taken from the railway-station to a shop in
+the Marienplatz. Fortunately, the stove was always set upright on its
+four gilded feet, an injunction to that effect having been affixed to
+its written label, and on its gilded feet it stood now in the small
+dark curiosity-shop of one Hans Rhilfer.
+
+"I shall not unpack it till Anton comes," he heard a man's voice say;
+and then he heard a key grate in a lock, and by the unbroken stillness
+that ensued he concluded he was alone, and ventured to peep through
+the straw and hay. What he saw was a small square room filled with
+pots and pans, pictures, carvings, old blue jugs, old steel armour,
+shields, daggers, Chinese idols, Vienna china, Turkish rugs, and all
+the art lumber and fabricated rubbish of a _bric-a-brac_ dealer's. It
+seemed a wonderful place to him; but, oh! was there one drop of water
+in it all? That was his single thought; for his tongue was parching,
+and his throat felt on fire, and his chest began to be dry and choked
+as with dust. There was not a drop of water, but there was a lattice
+window grated, and beyond the window was a wide stone ledge covered
+with snow. August cast one look at the locked door, darted out of his
+hiding place, ran and opened the window, crammed the snow into his
+mouth again and again, and then flew back into the stove, drew the hay
+and straw over the place he entered by, tied the cords, and shut the
+brass door down on himself. He had brought some big icicles in with
+him, and by them his thirst was finally, if only temporarily,
+quenched. Then he sat still in the bottom of the stove, listening
+intently, wide awake, and once more recovering his natural boldness.
+
+The thought of Dorothea kept nipping his heart and his conscience with
+a hard squeeze now and then; but he thought to himself, "If I can take
+her back Hirschvogel then how pleased she will be, and how little
+'Gilda will clap her hands!" He was not at all selfish in his love for
+Hirschvogel: he wanted it for them all at home quite as much as for
+himself. There was at the bottom of his mind a kind of ache of shame
+that his father--his own father--should have stripped their hearth and
+sold their honour thus.
+
+A robin had been perched upon a stone griffin sculptured on a
+house-eave near. August had felt for the crumbs of his loaf in his
+pocket, and had thrown them to the little bird sitting so easily on
+the frozen snow.
+
+In the darkness where he was he now heard a little song, made faint by
+the stove-wall and the window-glass that was between him and it, but
+still distinct and exquisitely sweet. It was the robin, singing after
+feeding on the crumbs. August, as he heard, burst into tears. He
+thought of Dorothea, who every morning threw out some grain or some
+bread on the snow before the church. "What use is it going _there_,"
+she said, "if we forget the sweetest creatures God has made?" Poor
+Dorothea! Poor, good, tender, much-burdened little soul! He thought of
+her till his tears ran like rain.
+
+Yet it never once occurred to him to dream of going home. Hirschvogel
+was here.
+
+Presently the key turned in the lock of the door; he heard heavy
+footsteps and the voice of the man who had said to his father, "You
+have a little mad dog; muzzle him!" The voice said, "Ay, ay, you have
+called me a fool many times. Now you shall see what I have gotten for
+two hundred dirty florins. _Potztausend_! never did _you_ do such a
+stroke of work."
+
+Then the other voice grumbled and swore, and the steps of the two men
+approached more closely, and the heart of the child went pit-a-pat,
+pit-a-pat, as a mouse's does when it is on the top of a cheese and
+hears a housemaid's broom sweeping near. They began to strip the stove
+of its wrappings: that he could tell by the noise they made with the
+hay and the straw. Soon they had stripped it wholly; that too, he
+knew by the oaths and exclamations of wonder and surprise and rapture
+which broke from the man who had not seen it before.
+
+"A right royal thing! A wonderful and never-to-be-rivalled thing!
+Grander than the great stove of Hohen-Salzburg! Sublime! magnificent!
+matchless!"
+
+So the epithets ran on in thick guttural voices, diffusing a smell of
+lager-beer so strong as they spoke that it reached August crouching in
+his stronghold. If they should open the door of the stove! That was
+his frantic fear. If they should open it, it would be all over with
+him. They would drag him out; most likely they would kill him, he
+thought, as his mother's young brother had been killed in the Wald.
+
+The perspiration rolled off his forehead in his agony; but he had
+control enough over himself to keep quiet, and after standing by the
+Nuernberg master's work for nigh an hour, praising, marvelling,
+expatiating in the lengthy German tongue, the men moved to a little
+distance and began talking of sums of money and divided profits, of
+which discourse he could make out no meaning. All he could make out
+was that the name of the king--the king--the king came over very often
+in their arguments. He fancied at times they quarrelled, for they
+swore lustily and their voices rose hoarse and high; but after a while
+they seemed to pacify each other and agree to something, and were in
+great glee, and so in these merry spirits came and slapped the
+luminous sides of stately Hirschvogel, and shouted to it:
+
+"Old Mumchance, you have brought us rare good luck! To think you were
+smoking in a silly fool of a salt-baker's kitchen all these years!"
+
+Then inside the stove August jumped up, with flaming cheeks and
+clinching hands, and was almost on the point of shouting out to them
+that they were the thieves and should say no evil of his father, when
+he remembered, just in time, that to breathe a word or make a sound
+was to bring ruin on himself and sever him forever from Hirschvogel.
+So he kept quite still, and the men barred the shutters of the little
+lattice and went out by the door, double-locking it after them. He had
+made out from their talk that they were going to show Hirschvogel to
+some great person: therefore he kept quite still and dared not move.
+
+Muffled sounds came to him through the shutters from the streets
+below--the rolling of wheels, the clanging of church-bells, and bursts
+of that military music which is so seldom silent in the streets of
+Munich. An hour perhaps passed by; sounds of steps on the stairs kept
+him in perpetual apprehension. In the intensity of his anxiety, he
+forgot that he was hungry and many miles away from cheerful, Old World
+little Hall, lying by the clear gray river-water, with the ramparts of
+the mountains all round.
+
+Presently the door opened again sharply. He could hear the two
+dealers' voices murmuring unctuous words, in which "honour,"
+"gratitude," and many fine long noble titles played the chief parts.
+The voice of another person, more clear and refined than theirs,
+answered them curtly, and then, close by the Nuernberg stove and the
+boy's ear, ejaculated a single "_Wunderschoen_!" August almost lost his
+terror for himself in his thrill of pride at his beloved Hirschvogel
+being thus admired in the great city. He thought the master-potter
+must be glad too.
+
+"_Wunderschoen_!" ejaculated the stranger a second time, and then
+examined the stove in all its parts, read all its mottoes, gazed long
+on all its devices.
+
+"It must have been made for the Emperor Maximilian," he said at last;
+and the poor little boy, meanwhile, within, was "hugged up into
+nothing," as you children say, dreading that every moment he would
+open the stove. And open it truly he did, and examined the brass-work
+of the door; but inside it was so dark that crouching August passed
+unnoticed, screwed up into a ball like a hedgehog as he was. The
+gentleman shut to the door at length, without having seen anything
+strange inside it; and then he talked long and low with the tradesmen,
+and, as his accent was different from that which August was used to,
+the child could distinguish little that he said, except the name of
+the king and the word "gulden" again and again. After a while he went
+away, one of the dealers accompanying him, one of them lingering
+behind to bar up the shutters. Then this one also withdrew again,
+double-locking the door.
+
+The poor little hedgehog uncurled itself and dared to breathe aloud.
+
+What time was it?
+
+Late in the day, he thought, for to accompany the stranger they had
+lighted a lamp; he had heard the scratch of the match, and through the
+brass fretwork had seen the lines of light.
+
+He would have to pass the night here, that was certain. He and
+Hirschvogel were locked in, but at least they were together. If only
+he could have had something to eat! He thought with a pang of how at
+this hour at home they ate the sweet soup, sometimes with apples in it
+from Aunt Maila's farm orchard, and sang together, and listened to
+Dorothea's reading of little tales, and basked in the glow and delight
+that had beamed on them from the great Nuernberg fire-king.
+
+"Oh, poor, poor little 'Gilda! What is she doing without the dear
+Hirschvogel?" he thought. Poor little 'Gilda! she had only now the
+black iron stove of the ugly little kitchen. Oh, how cruel of father!
+
+August could not bear to hear the dealers blame or laugh at his
+father, but he did feel that it had been so, so cruel to sell
+Hirschvogel. The mere memory of all those long winter evenings, when
+they had all closed round it, and roasted chestnuts or crab-apples in
+it, and listened to the howling of the wind and the deep sound of the
+church-bells, and tried very much to make each other believe that the
+wolves still came down from the mountains into the streets of Hall,
+and were that very minute growling at the house door--all this memory
+coming on him with the sound of the city bells, and the knowledge that
+night drew near upon him so completely, being added to his hunger and
+his fear, so overcame him that he burst out crying for the fiftieth
+time since he had been inside the stove, and felt that he would starve
+to death, and wondered dreamily if Hirschvogel would care. Yes, he was
+sure Hirschvogel would care. Had he not decked it all summer long with
+alpine roses and edelweiss and heaths and made it sweet with thyme and
+honeysuckle and great garden-lilies? Had he ever forgotten when Santa
+Claus came to make it its crown of holly and ivy and wreathe it all
+around?
+
+"Oh, shelter me; save me; take care of me!" he prayed to the old
+fire-king, and forgot poor little man, that he had come on this
+wild-goose chase northward to save and take care of Hirschvogel!
+
+After a time he dropped asleep, as children can do when they weep, and
+little robust hill-born boys most surely do, be they where they may.
+It was not very cold in this lumber-room; it was tightly shut up, and
+very full of things, and at the back of it were the hot pipes of an
+adjacent house, where a great deal of fuel was burnt. Moreover,
+August's clothes were warm ones, and his blood was young. So he was
+not cold, though Munich is terribly cold in the nights of December;
+and he slept on and on--which was a comfort to him, for he forgot his
+woes, and his perils, and his hunger for a time.
+
+Midnight was once more chiming from all the brazen tongues of the
+city when he awoke, and, all being still around him, ventured to put
+his head out of the brass door of the stove to see why such a strange
+bright light was round him.
+
+It was a very strange and brilliant light indeed; and yet, what is
+perhaps still stranger, it did not frighten or amaze him, nor did what
+he saw alarm him either, and yet I think it would have done you or me.
+For what he saw was nothing less than all the _bric-a-brac_ in motion.
+
+A big jug, an Apostel-Krug, of Kruessen, was solemnly dancing a minuet
+with a plump Faenza jar; a tall Dutch clock was going through a
+gavotte with a spindle-legged ancient chair; a very droll porcelain
+figure of Zitzenhausen was bowing to a very stiff soldier in _terre
+cuite_ of Ulm; an old violin of Cremona was playing itself, and a
+queer little shrill plaintive music that thought itself merry came
+from a painted spinet covered with faded roses; some gilt Spanish
+leather had got up on the wall and laughed; a Dresden mirror was
+tripping about, crowned with flowers, and a Japanese bonze was riding
+along on a griffin; a slim Venetian rapier had come to blows with a
+stout Ferrara sabre, all about a little pale-faced chit of a damsel in
+white Nymphenburg china; and a portly Franconian pitcher in _gres
+gris_ was calling aloud, "Oh, these Italians! always at feud!" But
+nobody listened to him at all. A great number of little Dresden cups
+and saucers were all skipping and waltzing; the teapots, with their
+broad round faces, were spinning their own lids like teetotums; the
+high-backed gilded chairs were having a game of cards together; and a
+little Saxe poodle, with a blue ribbon at its throat, was running from
+one to another, whilst a yellow cat of Cornelis Zachtleven's rode
+about on a Delft horse in blue pottery of 1489. Meanwhile the
+brilliant light shed on the scene came from three silver candelabra,
+though they had no candles set up in them; and, what is the greatest
+miracle of all, August looked on at these mad freaks and felt no
+sensation of wonder! He only, as he heard the violin and the spinet
+playing, felt an irresistible desire to dance too.
+
+No doubt his face said what he wished; for a lovely little lady, all
+in pink and gold and white, with powdered hair, and high-heeled shoes,
+and all made of the very finest and fairest Meissen china, tripped up
+to him, and smiled, and gave him her hand, and led him out to a
+minuet. And he danced it perfectly--poor little August in his thick,
+clumsy shoes, and his thick, clumsy sheepskin jacket, and his rough
+homespun linen, and his broad Tyrolean hat! He must have danced it
+perfectly, this dance of kings and queens in days when crowns were
+duly honoured, for the lovely lady always smiled benignly and never
+scolded him at all, and danced so divinely herself to the stately
+measures the spinet was playing that August could not take his eyes
+off her till, the minuet ended, she sat down on her own white-and-gold
+bracket.
+
+"I am the Princess of Saxe-Royal," she said to him, with a benignant
+smile; "and you have got through that minuet very fairly."
+
+Then he ventured to say to her:
+
+"Madame my princess, could you tell me kindly why some of the figures
+and furniture dance and speak, and some lie up in a corner like
+lumber? It does make me curious. Is it rude to ask?"
+
+For it greatly puzzled him why, when some of the _bric-a-brac_ was all
+full of life and motion, some was quite still and had not a single
+thrill in it.
+
+"My dear child," said the powdered lady, "is it possible that you do
+not know the reason? Why, those silent, dull things are _imitation_."
+
+This she said with so much decision that she evidently considered it a
+condensed but complete answer.
+
+"Imitation?" repeated August, timidly, not understanding.
+
+"Of course! Lies, falsehoods, fabrications!" said the princess in pink
+shoes, very vivaciously. "They only _pretend_ to be what we are! They
+never wake up: how can they? No imitation ever had any soul in it
+yet."
+
+"Oh!" said August, humbly, not even sure that he understood entirely
+yet. He looked at Hirschvogel: surely it had a royal soul within it:
+would it not wake up and speak? Oh dear! how he longed to hear the
+voice of his fire-king! And he began to forget that he stood by a lady
+who sat upon a pedestal of gold-and-white china, with the year 1746
+cut on it, and the Meissen mark.
+
+"What will you be when you are a man?" said the little lady, sharply,
+for her black eyes were quick though her red lips were smiling. "Will
+you work for the _Konigliche Porcellan-Manufactur_, like my great dead
+Kandler?"
+
+"I have never thought," said August, stammering; "at least--that is--I
+do wish--I do hope to be a painter, as was Master Augustin Hirschvogel
+at Nuernberg."
+
+"Bravo!" said all the real _bric-a-brac_ in one breath, and the two
+Italian rapiers left off fighting to cry, "_Benone_!" For there is not
+a bit of true _bric-a-brac_ in all Europe that does not know the names
+of the mighty masters.
+
+August felt quite pleased to have won so much applause, and grew as
+red as the lady's shoes with bashful contentment.
+
+"I knew all the Hirschvogel, from old Veit downwards," said a fat
+_gres de Flandre_ beer-jug: "I myself was made at Nuernberg." And he
+bowed to the great stove very politely, taking off his own silver
+hat--I mean lid--with a courtly sweep that he could scarcely have
+learned from burgomasters. The stove, however, was silent, and a
+sickening suspicion (for what is such heart-break as a suspicion of
+what we love?) came through the mind of August: _Was Hirschvogel only
+imitation_?
+
+"No, no, no, no!" he said to himself, stoutly: though Hirschvogel
+never stirred, never spoke, yet would he keep all faith in it! After
+all their happy years together, after all the nights of warmth and joy
+he owed it, should he doubt his own friend and hero, whose gilt lion's
+feet he had kissed in his babyhood? "No, no, no, no!" he said, again,
+with so much emphasis that the Lady of Meissen looked sharply again at
+him.
+
+"No," she said, with pretty disdain; "no, believe me, they may
+'pretend' forever. They can never look like us! They imitate even our
+marks, but never can they look like the real thing, never can they
+_chassent de race_."
+
+"How should they?" said a bronze statuette of Vischer's "They daub
+themselves green with verdigris, or sit out in the rain to get rusted;
+but green and rust are not _patina_; only the ages can give that!"
+
+"And _my_ imitations are all in primary colours, staring colours, hot
+as the colours of a hostelry's sign-board!" said the Lady of Meissen,
+with a shiver.
+
+"Well, there is a _gres de Flandre_ over there, who pretends to be a
+Hans Kraut, as I am," said the jug with the silver hat, pointing with
+his handle to a jug that lay prone on its side in a corner. "He has
+copied me as exactly as it is given to moderns to copy us. Almost he
+might be mistaken for me. But yet what a difference there is! How
+crude are his blues! how evidently done over the glaze are his black
+letters! He has tried to give himself my very twist; but what a
+lamentable exaggeration of that playful deviation in my lines which in
+his becomes actual deformity!"
+
+"And look at that," said the gilt Cordovan leather, with a
+contemptuous glance at a broad piece of gilded leather spread out on a
+table. "They will sell him cheek by jowl with me, and give him my
+name; but look! _I_ am overlaid with pure gold beaten thin as a film
+and laid on me in absolute honesty by worthy Diego de las Gorgias,
+worker in leather of lovely Cordova in the blessed reign of Ferdinand
+the Most Christian. _His_ gilding is one part gold to eleven other
+parts of brass and rubbish, and it has been laid on him with a
+brush--_a brush_--pah! of course he will be as black as a crock in a
+few years' time, whilst I am as bright as when I first was made, and,
+unless I am burnt as my Cordova burnt its heretics, I shall shine on
+forever."
+
+"They carve pear-wood because it is so soft, and dye it brown, and
+call it _me_" said an old oak cabinet, with a chuckle.
+
+"That is not so painful; it does not vulgarise you so much as the cups
+they paint to-day and christen after _me_," said a Carl Theodor cup
+subdued in hue, yet gorgeous as a jewel.
+
+"Nothing can be so annoying as to see common gimcracks aping _me_,"
+interposed the princess in the pink shoes.
+
+"They even steal my motto, though it is Scripture," said a
+_Trauerkrug_ of Regensburg in black-and-white.
+
+"And my own dots they put on plain English china creatures!" sighed
+the little white maid of Nymphenburg.
+
+"And they sell hundreds and thousands of common china plates, calling
+them after me, and baking my saints and my legends in a muffle of
+to-day; it is blasphemy!" said a stout plate of Gubbio, which in its
+year of birth had seen the face of Maestro Giorgio.
+
+"That is what is so terrible in these _bric-a-brac_ places," said the
+princess of Meissen. "It brings one in contact with such low,
+imitative creatures; one really is safe nowhere nowadays unless under
+glass at the Louvre or South Kensington."
+
+"And they get even there," sighed the _gres de Flandre_. "A terrible
+thing happened to a dear friend of mine, a _terre cuite_ of Blasius
+(you know the _terres cuites_ of Blasius date from 1560). Well, he was
+put under glass in a museum that shall be nameless, and he found
+himself set next to his own imitation born and baked yesterday at
+Frankfort, and what think you the miserable creature said to him, with
+a grin? 'Old Pipeclay,' that is what he called my friend, 'the fellow
+that bought _me_ got just as much commission on me as the fellow that
+bought _you_, and that was all that _he_ thought about. You know it is
+only the public money that goes!' And the horrid creature grinned
+again till he actually cracked himself. There is a Providence above
+all things, even museums."
+
+"Providence might have interfered before, and saved the public money,"
+said the little Meissen lady with the pink shoes.
+
+"After all, does it matter?" said a Dutch jar of Haarlem, "All the
+shamming in the world will not _make_ them us!"
+
+"One does not like to be vulgarised," said the Lady of Meissen,
+angrily.
+
+"My maker, the Krabbetje,[1] did not trouble his head about that,"
+said the Haarlem jar, proudly. "The Krabbetje made me for the kitchen,
+the bright, clean, snow-white Dutch kitchen, well-nigh three centuries
+ago, and now I am thought worthy the palace; yet I wish I were at
+home; yes, I wish I could see the good Dutch vrouw, and the shining
+canals, and the great green meadows dotted with the kine."
+
+[Footnote 1: Jan Asselyn, called Krabbetje, the Little Crab, born
+1610, master-potter of Delft and Haarlem.]
+
+"Ah! if we could all go back to our makers!" sighed the Gubbio plate,
+thinking of Giorgio Andreoli and the glad and gracious days of the
+Renaissance: and somehow the words touched the frolicsome souls of the
+dancing jars, the spinning teapots, the chairs that were playing
+cards; and the violin stopped its merry music with a sob, and the
+spinet sighed--thinking of dead hands.
+
+Even the little Saxe poodle howled for a master forever lost; and only
+the swords went on quarrelling, and made such a clattering noise that
+the Japanese bonze rode at them on his monster and knocked them both
+right over, and they lay straight and still, looking foolish, and the
+little Nymphenburg maid, though she was crying, smiled and almost
+laughed.
+
+Then from where the great stove stood there came a solemn voice.
+
+All eyes turned upon Hirschvogel, and the heart of its little human
+comrade gave a great jump of joy.
+
+"My friends," said that clear voice from the turret of Nuernberg
+faience, "I have listened to all you have said. There is too much
+talking among the Mortalities whom one of themselves has called the
+Windbags. Let not us be like them. I hear among men so much vain
+speech, so much precious breath and precious time wasted in empty
+boasts, foolish anger, useless reiteration, blatant argument, ignoble
+mouthings, that I have learned to deem speech a curse, laid on man to
+weaken and envenom all his undertakings. For over two hundred years I
+have never spoken myself: you, I hear, are not so reticent. I only
+speak now because one of you said a beautiful thing that touched me.
+If we all might but go back to our makers! Ah, yes! if we might! We
+were made in days when even men were true creatures, and so we, the
+work of their hands, were true too. We, the begotten of ancient days,
+derive all the value in us from the fact that our makers wrought at us
+with zeal, with piety, with integrity, with faith--not to win fortunes
+or to glut a market, but to do nobly an honest thing and create for
+the honour of the Arts and God. I see amidst you a little human thing
+who loves me, and in his own ignorant childish way loves Art. Now, I
+want him forever to remember this night and these words; to remember
+that we are what we are, and precious in the eyes of the world,
+because centuries ago those who were of single mind and of pure hand
+so created us, scorning sham and haste and counterfeit. Well do I
+recollect my master, Augustin Hirschvogel. He led a wise and blameless
+life, and wrought in loyalty and love, and made his time beautiful
+thereby, like one of his own rich, many-coloured church casements,
+that told holy tales as the sun streamed through them. Ah, yes, my
+friends, to go back to our masters!--that would be the best that could
+befall us. But they are gone, and even the perishable labours of their
+lives outlive them. For many, many years I, once honoured of emperors,
+dwelt in a humble house and warmed in successive winters three
+generations of little, cold, hungry children. When I warmed them they
+forgot that they were hungry; they laughed and told tales, and slept
+at last about my feet. Then I knew that humble as had become my lot it
+was one that my master would have wished for me, and I was content.
+Sometimes a tired woman would creep up to me, and smile because she
+was near me, and point out my golden crown or my ruddy fruit to a baby
+in her arms. That was better than to stand in a great hall of a great
+city, cold and empty, even though wise men came to gaze and throngs of
+fools gaped, passing with flattering words. Where I go now I know
+not; but since I go from that humble house where they loved me, I
+shall be sad and alone. They pass so soon--those fleeting mortal
+lives! Only we endure--we the things that the human brain creates. We
+can but bless them a little as they glide by: if we have done that, we
+have done what our masters wished. So in us our masters, being dead,
+yet may speak and live."
+
+Then the voice sank away in silence, and a strange golden light that
+had shone on the great stove faded away; so also the light died down
+in the silver candelabra. A soft, pathetic melody stole gently through
+the room. It came from the old, old spinet that was covered with the
+faded roses.
+
+Then that sad, sighing music of a bygone day died too; the clocks of
+the city struck six of the morning; day was rising over the
+Bayerischenwald. August awoke with a great start, and found himself
+lying on the bare bricks of the floor of the chamber; and all the
+_bric-a-brac_ was lying quite still all around. The pretty Lady of
+Meissen was motionless on her porcelain bracket, and the little Saxe
+poodle was quiet at her side.
+
+He rose slowly to his feet. He was very cold, but he was not sensible
+of it or of the hunger that was gnawing his little empty entrails. He
+was absorbed in the wondrous sight, in the wondrous sounds, that he
+had seen and heard.
+
+All was dark around him. Was it still midnight or had morning come?
+Morning, surely; for against the barred shutters he heard the tiny
+song of the robin.
+
+Tramp, tramp, too, came a heavy step up the stair. He had but a moment
+in which to scramble back into the interior of the great stove, when
+the door opened and the two dealers entered, bringing burning candles
+with them to see their way.
+
+August was scarcely conscious of danger more than he was of cold or
+hunger. A marvellous sense of courage, of security, of happiness, was
+about him, like strong and gentle arms enfolding him and lifting him
+upward--upward--upward! Hirschvogel would defend him.
+
+The dealers undid the shutters, scaring the red-breast away; and then
+tramped about in their heavy boots and chatted in contented voices,
+and began to wrap up the stove once more in all its straw and hay and
+cordage.
+
+It never once occurred to them to glance inside. Why should they look
+inside a stove that they had bought and were about to sell again for
+all its glorious beauty of exterior.
+
+The child still did not feel afraid. A great exaltation had come to
+him: he was like one lifted up by his angels.
+
+Presently the two traders called up their porters, and the stove,
+heedfully swathed and wrapped and tended as though it were some sick
+prince going on a journey, was borne on the shoulders of six stout
+Bavarians down the stairs and out of the door into the Marienplatz.
+Even behind all those wrappings August felt the icy bite of the
+intense cold of the outer air at dawn of a winter's day in Munich. The
+men moved the stove with exceeding gentleness and care, so that he had
+often been far more roughly shaken in his big brothers' arms than he
+was in his journey now; and though both hunger and thirst made
+themselves felt, being foes that will take no denial, he was still in
+that state of nervous exaltation which deadens all physical suffering
+and is at once a cordial and an opiate. He had heard Hirschvogel
+speak; that was enough.
+
+The stout carriers tramped through the city, six of them, with the
+Nuernberg fire-castle on their brawny shoulders, and went right across
+Munich to the railway-station, and August in the dark recognised all
+the ugly, jangling, pounding, roaring, hissing railway-noises, and
+thought, despite his courage and excitement, "Will it be a _very_ long
+journey?" For his stomach had at times an odd sinking sensation, and
+his head often felt sadly light and swimming. If it was a very, very
+long journey he felt half afraid that he would be dead or something
+bad before the end, and Hirschvogel would be so lonely: that was what
+he thought most about; not much about himself, and not much about
+Dorothea and the house at home. He was "high strung to high emprise,"
+and could not look behind him.
+
+Whether for a long or a short journey, whether for weal or woe, the
+stove with August still within it was once more hoisted up into a
+great van; but this time it was not all alone, and the two dealers as
+well as the six porters were all with it.
+
+He in his darkness knew that; for he heard their voices. The train
+glided away over the Bavarian plain southward; and he heard the men
+say something of Berg and the Wurm-See, but their German was strange
+to him, and he could not make out what these names meant.
+
+The train rolled on, with all its fume and fuss, and roar of steam,
+and stench of oil and burning coal. It had to go quietly and slowly on
+account of the snow which was falling, and which had fallen all night.
+
+"He might have waited till he came to the city," grumbled one man to
+another. "What weather to stay on at Berg!"
+
+But who he was that stayed on at Berg, August could not make out at
+all.
+
+Though the men grumbled about the state of the roads and the season,
+they were hilarious and well content, for they laughed often, and,
+when they swore, did so good-humouredly, and promised their porters
+fine presents at New Year; and August, like a shrewd little boy as he
+was, who even in the secluded Innthal had learned that money is the
+chief mover of men's mirth, thought to himself, with a terrible pang:
+
+"They have sold Hirschvogel for some great sum! They have sold him
+already!"
+
+Then his heart grew faint and sick within him, for he knew very well
+that he must soon die, shut up without food and water thus; and what
+new owner of the great fireplace would ever permit him to dwell in it?
+
+"Never mind; I _will_ die," thought he; "and Hirschvogel will know
+it."
+
+Perhaps you think him a very foolish little fellow; but I do not.
+
+It is always good to be loyal and ready to endure to the end.
+
+It is but an hour and a quarter that the train usually takes to pass
+from Munich to the Wurm-See or Lake of Starnberg but this morning the
+journey was much slower, because the way was encumbered by snow. When
+it did reach Possenhofen and stop, and the Nuernberg stove was lifted
+out once more, August could see through the fretwork of the brass
+door, as the stove stood upright facing the lake, that this Wurm-See
+was a calm and noble piece of water, of great width, with low wooded
+banks and distant mountains, a peaceful, serene place, full of rest.
+
+It was now near ten o'clock. The sun had come forth; there was a clear
+gray sky hereabouts; the snow was not falling, though it lay white and
+smooth everywhere, down to the edge of the water, which before long
+would itself be ice.
+
+Before he had time to get more than a glimpse of the green gliding
+surface, the stove was again lifted up and placed on a large boat that
+was in waiting--one of those very long and huge boats which the women
+in these parts use as laundries, and the men as timber-rafts. The
+stove, with much labour and much expenditure of time and care, was
+hoisted into this, and August would have grown sick and giddy with the
+heaving and falling if his big brothers had not long used him to such
+tossing about, so that he was as much at ease head, as feet, downward.
+The stove, once in it safely with its guardians, the big boat moved
+across the lake to Leoni. How a little hamlet on a Bavarian lake got
+that Tuscan-sounding name I cannot tell; but Leoni it is. The big boat
+was a long time crossing; the lake here is about three miles broad,
+and these heavy barges are unwieldy and heavy to move, even though
+they are towed and tugged at from the shore.
+
+"If we should be too late!" the two dealers muttered to each other, in
+agitation and alarm. "He said eleven o'clock."
+
+"Who was he?" thought August; "the buyer, of course, of Hirschvogel."
+The slow passage across the Wurm-See was accomplished at length: the
+lake was placid; there was a sweet calm in the air and on the water;
+there was a great deal of snow in the sky, though the sun was shining
+and gave a solemn hush to the atmosphere. Boats and one little steamer
+were going up and down; in the clear frosty light the distant
+mountains of Zillerthal and the Algau Alps were visible;
+market-people, cloaked and furred, went by on the water or on the
+banks; the deep woods of the shores were black and gray and brown.
+Poor August could see nothing of a scene that would have delighted
+him; as the stove was now set, he could only see the old worm-eaten
+wood of the huge barge.
+
+Presently they touched the pier at Leoni.
+
+"Now, men, for a stout mile and half! You shall drink your reward at
+Christmas time," said one of the dealers to his porters, who, stout,
+strong men as they were, showed a disposition to grumble at their
+task. Encouraged by large promises, they shouldered sullenly the
+Nuernberg stove, grumbling again at its preposterous weight, but little
+dreaming that they carried within it a small, panting, trembling boy;
+for August began to tremble now that he was about to see the future
+owner of Hirschvogel.
+
+"If he looks a good, kind man," he thought, "I will beg him to let me
+stay with it."
+
+The porters began their toilsome journey, and moved off from the
+village pier. He could see nothing, for the brass door was over his
+head, and all that gleamed through it was the clear gray sky. He had
+been tilted on to his back, and if he had not been a little
+mountaineer, used to hanging head-downward over crevasses, and,
+moreover, seasoned to rough treatment by the hunters and guides of the
+hills and the salt-workers in the town, he would have been made ill
+and sick by the bruising and shaking and many changes of position to
+which he had been subjected.
+
+The way the men took was a mile and a half in length, but the road was
+heavy with snow, and the burden they bore was heavier still. The
+dealers cheered them on, swore at them and praised them in one breath;
+besought them and reiterated their splendid promises, for a clock was
+striking eleven, and they had been ordered to reach their destination
+at that hour, and, though the air was so cold, the heat-drops rolled
+off their foreheads as they walked, they were so frightened at being
+late. But the porters would not budge a foot quicker than they chose,
+and as they were not poor four-footed carriers their employers dared
+not thrash them, though most willingly would they have done so.
+
+The road seemed terribly long to the anxious tradesmen, to the
+plodding porters, to the poor little man inside the stove, as he kept
+sinking and rising, sinking and rising, with each of their steps.
+
+Where they were going he had no idea, only after a very long time he
+lost the sense of the fresh icy wind blowing on his face through the
+brass-work above, and felt by their movements beneath him that they
+were mounting steps or stairs. Then he heard a great many different
+voices, but he could not understand what was being said. He felt that
+his bearers paused some time, then moved on and on again. Their feet
+went so softly he thought they must be moving on carpet, and as he
+felt a warm air come to him he concluded that he was in some heated
+chambers, for he was a clever little fellow, and could put two and two
+together, though he was so hungry and so thirsty and his empty stomach
+felt so strangely. They must have gone, he thought, through some very
+great number of rooms, for they walked so long on and on, on and on.
+At last the stove was set down again, and, happily for him, set so
+that his feet were downward.
+
+What he fancied was that he was in some museum, like that which he had
+seen in the city of Innspruck.
+
+The voices he heard were very hushed, and the steps seemed to go away,
+far away, leaving him alone with Hirschvogel. He dared not look out,
+but he peeped through the brass-work, and all he could see was a big
+carved lion's head in ivory, with a gold crown atop. It belonged to a
+velvet fauteuil, but he could not see the chair, only the ivory lion.
+
+There was a delicious fragrance in the air--a fragrance as flowers.
+"Only how can it be flowers?" thought August. "It is November!"
+
+From afar off, as it seemed, there came a dreamy, exquisite music, as
+sweet as the spinet's had been, but so much fuller, so much richer,
+seeming as though a chorus of angels were singing all together. August
+ceased to think of the museum; he thought of heaven. "Are we gone to
+the Master?" he thought, remembering the words of Hirschvogel.
+
+All was so still around him; there was no sound anywhere except the
+sound of the far-off choral music.
+
+He did not know it, but he was in the royal castle of Berg, and the
+music he heard was the music of Wagner, who was playing in a distant
+room some of the motives of "Parsival."
+
+Presently he heard a fresh step near him, and he heard a low voice
+say, close behind him, "So!" An exclamation no doubt, he thought, of
+admiration and wonder at the beauty of Hirschvogel.
+
+Then the same voice said, after a long pause, during which no doubt,
+as August thought, this newcomer was examining all the details of the
+wondrous fire-tower, "It was well bought; it is exceedingly beautiful!
+It is most undoubtedly the work of Augustin Hirschvogel."
+
+Then the hand of the speaker turned the round handle of the brass
+door, and the fainting soul of the poor little prisoner within grew
+sick with fear.
+
+The handle turned, the door was slowly drawn open, someone bent down
+and looked in, and the same voice that he had heard in praise of its
+beauty called aloud, in surprise, "What is this in it? A live child!"
+
+Then August, terrified beyond all self control, and dominated by one
+master-passion, sprang out of the body of the stove and fell at the
+feet of the speaker.
+
+"Oh, let me stay! Pray, meinherr, let me stay!" he sobbed. "I have
+come all the way with Hirschvogel!"
+
+Some gentlemen's hands seized him, not gently by any means, and their
+lips angrily muttered in his ear, "Little knave, peace! be quiet! hold
+your tongue! It is the king!"
+
+They were about to drag him out of the august atmosphere as if he had
+been some venomous, dangerous beast come there to slay, but the voice
+he had heard speak of the stove said, in kind accents, "Poor little
+child! he is very young. Let him go: let him speak to me."
+
+The word of a king is law to his courtiers: so, sorely against their
+wish, the angry and astonished chamberlains let August slide out of
+their grasp, and he stood there in his little rough sheepskin coat and
+his thick, mud-covered boots, with his curling hair all in a tangle,
+in the midst of the most beautiful chamber he had ever dreamed of, and
+in the presence of a young man with a beautiful dark face, and eyes
+full of dreams and fire; and the young man said to him:
+
+"My child, how came you here, hidden in this stove? Be not afraid:
+tell me the truth. I am the king."
+
+August in an instinct of homage cast his great battered black hat with
+the tarnished gold tassels down on the floor of the room, and folded
+his little brown hands in supplication. He was too intensely in
+earnest to be in any way abashed; he was too lifted out of himself by
+his love for Hirschvogel to be conscious of any awe before any earthly
+majesty. He was only so glad--so glad it was the king. Kings were
+always kind; so the Tyrolese think, who love their lords.
+
+"Oh, dear king!" he said, with trembling entreaty in his faint little
+voice, "Hirschvogel was ours, and we have loved it all our lives; and
+father sold it. And when I saw that it did really go from us, then I
+said to myself I would go with it; and I have come all the way inside
+it. And last night it spoke and said beautiful things. And I do pray
+you to let me live with it, and I will go out every morning and cut
+wood for it and you, if only you will let me stay beside it. No one
+ever has fed it with fuel but me since I grew big enough, and it loves
+me; it does indeed; it said so last night; and it said that it had
+been happier with us than if it were in any palace--"
+
+And then his breath failed him, and, as he lifted his little eager,
+pale face to the young king's, great tears were falling down his
+cheeks.
+
+Now, the king liked all poetic and uncommon things, and there was that
+in the child's face which pleased and touched him. He motioned to his
+gentlemen to leave the little boy alone.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked him.
+
+"I am August Strehla. My father is Hans Strehla. We live in Hall, in
+the Innthal; and Hirschvogel has been ours so long--so long!"
+
+His lips quivered with a broken sob.
+
+"And have you truly travelled inside this stove all the way from
+Tyrol?"
+
+"Yes," said August; "no one thought to look inside till you did."
+
+The king laughed; then another view of the matter occurred to him.
+
+"Who bought the stove of your father?" he inquired.
+
+"Traders of Munich," said August, who did not know that he ought not
+to have spoken to the king as to a simple citizen, and whose little
+brain was whirling and spinning dizzily round its one central idea.
+
+"What sum did they pay your father, do you know?" asked the sovereign.
+
+"Two hundred florins," said August, with a great sigh of shame. "It
+was so much money, and he is so poor, and there are so many of us."
+
+The king turned to his gentlemen-in-waiting. "Did these dealers of
+Munich come with the stove?"
+
+He was answered in the affirmative. He desired them to be sought for
+and brought before him. As one of his chamberlains hastened on the
+errand, the monarch looked at August with compassion.
+
+"You are very pale, little fellow: when did you eat last?"
+
+"I had some bread and sausage with me; yesterday afternoon I finished
+it."
+
+"You would like to eat now?"
+
+"If I might have a little water I would be glad; my throat is very
+dry."
+
+The king had water and wine brought for him, and cake also; but
+August, though he drank eagerly, could not swallow anything. His mind
+was in too great a tumult.
+
+"May I stay with Hirschvogel?--may I stay?" he said with feverish
+agitation.
+
+"Wait a little," said the king, and asked, abruptly, "What do you wish
+to be when you are a man?"
+
+"A painter. I wish to be what Hirschvogel was--I mean the master that
+made _my_ Hirschvogel."
+
+"I understand," said the king.
+
+Then the two dealers were brought into their sovereign's presence.
+They were so terribly alarmed, not being either so innocent or so
+ignorant as August was that they were trembling as though they were
+being led to the slaughter, and they were so utterly astonished too at
+a child having come all the way from Tyrol in the stove, as a
+gentleman of the court had just told them this child had done, that
+they could not tell what to say or where to look, and presented a very
+foolish aspect indeed.
+
+"Did you buy this Nuernberg stove of this little boy's father for two
+hundred florins?" the king asked them; and his voice was no longer
+soft and kind as it had been when addressing the child, but very
+stern.
+
+"Yes, your majesty," murmured the trembling traders.
+
+"And how much did the gentleman who purchased it for me give to you?"
+
+"Two thousand ducats, your majesty," muttered the dealers, frightened
+out of their wits, and telling the truth in their fright.
+
+The gentleman was not present: he was a trusted counselor in art
+matters of the king's, and often made purchases for him.
+
+The king smiled a little, and said nothing. The gentleman had made out
+the price to him as eleven thousand ducats.
+
+"You will give at once to this boy's father the two thousand gold
+ducats that you received, less the two hundred Austrian florins that
+you paid him," said the king to his humiliated and abject subjects.
+"You are great rogues. Be thankful you are not more greatly punished."
+
+He dismissed them by a sign to his courtiers, and to one of these gave
+the mission of making the dealers of the Marienplatz disgorge their
+ill-gotten gains.
+
+August heard, and felt dazzled yet miserable. Two thousand gold
+Bavarian ducats for his father! Why, his father would never need to go
+any more to the salt-baking! And yet, whether for ducats or for
+florins, Hirschvogel was sold just the same, and would the king let
+him stay with it?--would he?
+
+"Oh, do! oh, please do!" he murmured, joining his little brown
+weather-stained hands, and kneeling down before the young monarch, who
+himself stood absorbed in painful thought, for the deception so basely
+practised for the greedy sake of gain on him by a trusted counsellor
+was bitter to him.
+
+He looked down on the child, and as he did so smiled once more.
+
+"Rise up, my little man," he said, in a kind voice; "kneel only to
+your God. Will I let you stay with your Hirschvogel? Yes, I will, you
+shall stay at my court, and you shall be taught to be a painter--in
+oils or on porcelain as you will--and you must grow up worthily, and
+win all the laurels at our Schools of Art, and if when you are
+twenty-one years old you have done well and bravely, then I will give
+you your Nuernberg stove, or, if I am no more living, then those who
+reign after me shall do so. And now go away with this gentleman, and
+be not afraid, and you shall light a fire every morning in
+Hirschvogel, but you will not need to go out and cut the wood."
+
+Then he smiled and stretched out his hand; the courtiers tried to make
+August understand that he ought to bow and touch it with his lips, but
+August could not understand that anyhow; he was too happy. He threw
+his two arms about the king's knees, and kissed his feet passionately;
+then he lost all sense of where he was, and fainted away from hunger,
+and tire, and emotion, and wondrous joy.
+
+As the darkness of his swoon closed in on him, he heard in his fancy
+the voice from Hirschvogel saying:
+
+"Let us be worthy our maker!"
+
+He is only a scholar yet, but he is a happy scholar, and promises to
+be a great man. Sometimes he goes back for a few days to Hall, where
+the gold ducats have made his father prosperous. In the old house-room
+there is a large white porcelain stove of Munich, the king's gift to
+Dorothea and 'Gilda.
+
+And August never goes home without going into the great church and
+saying his thanks to God, who blessed his strange winter's journey in
+the Nuernberg stove. As for his dream in the dealers' room that night,
+he will never admit that he did dream it; he still declares that he
+saw it all and heard the voice of Hirschvogel. And who shall say that
+he did not? for what is the gift of the poet and the artist except to
+see the sights which others cannot see and to hear the sounds that
+others cannot hear?
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+RAB AND HIS FRIENDS
+
+
+Four-and-thirty years ago, Bob Ainslie and I were coming up Infirmary
+Street from the Edinburgh High School, our heads together, and our
+arms intertwisted, as only lovers and boys know how, or why.
+
+When we got to the top of the street, and turned north, we espied a
+crowd at the Tron Church. "A dog-fight!" shouted Bob, and was off; and
+so was I, both of us all but praying that it might not be over before
+we got up! And is not this boy-nature? and human nature too? and don't
+we all wish a house on fire not to be out before we see it? Dogs like
+fighting; old Isaac says they "delight" in it, and for the best of all
+reasons; and boys are not cruel because they like to see the fight.
+They see three of the great cardinal virtues of dog or man--courage,
+endurance, and skill--in intense action. This is very different from a
+love of making dogs fight, and enjoying, and aggravating, and making
+gain by their pluck. A boy--be he ever so fond himself of fighting, if
+he be a good boy, hates and despises all this, but he would run off
+with Bob and me fast enough: it is a natural, and not wicked interest,
+that all boys and men have in witnessing intense energy in action.
+
+Does any curious and finely-ignorant woman wish to know how Bob's eye
+at a glance announced a dog-fight to his brain? He did not, he could
+not see the dogs fighting; it was a flash of an inference, a rapid
+induction. The crowd round a couple of dogs fighting, is a crowd
+masculine mainly, with an occasional active, compassionate woman,
+fluttering wildly round the outside, and using her tongue and her
+hands freely upon the men, as so many "brutes;" it is a crowd annular,
+compact, and mobile; a crowd centripetal, having its eyes and its
+heads all bent downwards and inwards, to one common focus.
+
+Well, Bob and I are up, and find it is not over: a small thoroughbred,
+white bull-terrier, is busy throttling a large shepherd's dog,
+unaccustomed to war, but not to be trifled with. They are hard at it;
+the scientific little fellow doing his work in great style, his
+pastoral enemy fighting wildly, but with the sharpest of teeth and a
+great courage. Science and breeding, however, soon had their own; the
+Game Chicken, as the premature Bob called him, working his way up,
+took his final grip of poor Yarrow's throat--and he lay gasping and
+done for. His master, a brown, handsome, big young shepherd from
+Tweedsmuir, would have liked to have knocked down any man, would
+"drink up Esil, or eat a crocodile," for that part, if he had a
+chance: it was no use kicking the little dog; that would only make him
+hold the closer. Many were the means shouted out in mouthfuls, of the
+best possible ways of ending it. "Water!" but there was none near, and
+many cried for it who might have got it from the well at Blackfriars
+Wynd. "Bite the tail!" and a large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+man, more desirous than wise, with some struggle got the bushy end of
+_Yarrow's_ tail into his ample mouth, and bit it with all his might.
+This was more than enough for the much-enduring, much-perspiring
+shepherd, who, with a gleam of joy over his broad visage, delivered a
+terrific facer upon our large, vague, benevolent, middle-aged
+friend--who went down like a shot.
+
+Still the Chicken holds; death not far off. "Snuff! a pinch of
+snuff!" observed a calm, highly-dressed young buck, with an eye-glass
+in his eye. "Snuff, indeed!" growled the angry crowd, affronted and
+glaring. "Snuff! a pinch of snuff!" again observes the buck but with
+more urgency; whereon were produced several open boxes, and from a
+mull which may have been at Culloden, he took a pinch, knelt down, and
+presented it to the nose of the Chicken. The laws of physiology and of
+snuff take their course; the Chicken sneezes, and Yarrow is free!
+
+The young pastoral giant stalks off with Yarrow in his
+arms--comforting him.
+
+But the Bull Terrier's blood is up, and his soul unsatisfied; he grips
+the first dog he meets, and discovering she is not a dog, in Homeric
+phrase, he makes a brief sort of _amende_, and is off. The boys, with
+Bob and me at their head, are after him: down Niddry Street he goes,
+bent on mischief; up the Cowgate like an arrow--Bob and I, and our
+small men, panting behind.
+
+There, under the single arch of the South Bridge, is a huge mastiff,
+sauntering down the middle of the causeway, as if with his hands in
+his pockets: he is old, gray, brindled, as big as a little Highland
+bull, and has the Shakespearian dewlaps shaking as he goes.
+
+The Chicken makes straight at him, and fastens on his throat. To our
+astonishment, the great creature does nothing but stand still, hold
+himself up, and roar--yes, roar; a long, serious, remonstrative roar.
+How is this? Bob and I are up to them. _He is muzzled_! The bailies
+had proclaimed a general muzzling, and his master, studying strength
+and economy mainly, had encompassed his huge jaws in a home-made
+apparatus, constructed out of the leather of some ancient _breechin_.
+His mouth was open as far as it could; his lips curled up in rage--a
+sort of terrible grin; his teeth gleaming, ready, from out the
+darkness, the strap across his mouth tense as a bowstring; his whole
+frame stiff with indignation and surprise; his roar asking us all
+round, "Did you ever see the like of this?" He looked a statue of
+anger and astonishment, done in Aberdeen granite.
+
+We soon had a crowd: the Chicken held on. "A knife!" cried Bob; and a
+cobbler gave him his knife: you know the kind of knife, worn away
+obliquely to a point, and always keen. I put its edge to the tense
+leather; it ran before it; and then!--one sudden jerk of that enormous
+head, a sort of dirty mist about his mouth, no noise--and the bright
+and fierce little fellow is dropped, limp, and dead. A solemn pause:
+this was more than any of us had bargained for. I turned the little
+fellow over, and saw he was quite dead; the mastiff had taken him by
+the small of the back like a rat, and broken it.
+
+He looked down at his victim appeased, ashamed, and amazed; snuffed
+him all over, stared at him, and taking a sudden thought, turned round
+and trotted off. Bob took the dead dog up, and said, "John, we'll bury
+him after tea." "Yes," said I, and was off after the mastiff. He made
+up the Cowgate at a rapid swing; he had forgotten some engagement. He
+turned up the Candlemaker Row, and stopped at the Harrow Inn.
+
+There was a carrier's cart ready to start, and a keen thin, impatient,
+black-a-vised little man, his hand at his gray horse's head, looking
+about angrily for something. "Rab, ye thief!" said he, aiming a kick
+at my great friend, who drew cringing up, and avoiding the heavy shoe
+with more agility than dignity, and watching his master's eye, slunk
+dismayed under the cart--his ears down, and as much as he had of tail
+down too.
+
+What a man this must be--thought I--to whom my tremendous hero turns
+tail. The carrier saw the muzzle hanging, cut and useless, from his
+neck, and I eagerly told him the story, which Bob and I always
+thought, and still think, Homer, or King David, or Sir Walter alone
+were worthy to rehearse. The severe little man was mitigated, and
+condescended to say, "Rab, my man, puir Rabbie,"--whereupon the stump
+of a tail rose up, the ears were cocked, the eyes filled, and were
+comforted; the two friends were reconciled. "Hupp!" and a stroke of
+the whip were given to Jess; and off went the three.
+
+Bob and I buried the Game Chicken that night (we had not much of a
+tea) in the back-green of his house in Melville Street, No. 17, with
+considerable gravity and silence; and being at the time in the Iliad,
+and, like all boys, Trojans, we called him Hector of course.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six years have passed--a long time for a boy and a dog: Bob Ainslie is
+off to the wars; I am a medical student and clerk at Minto House
+Hospital.
+
+Rab I saw almost every week, on the Wednesday and we had much pleasant
+intimacy. I found the way to his heart by frequent scratching of his
+huge head, and an occasional bone. When I did not notice him he would
+plant himself straight before me, and stand wagging that butt of a
+tail, and looking up, with his head a little to one side. His master I
+occasionally saw; he used to call me "Maister John," but was laconic
+as any Spartan.
+
+One fine October afternoon, I was leaving the hospital when I saw the
+large gate open, and in walked Rab, with that great and easy saunter
+of his. He looked as if taking general possession of the place; like
+the Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city, satiated with victory
+and peace. After him came Jess, now white from age, with her cart; and
+in it a woman, carefully wrapped up--the carrier leading the horse
+anxiously, and looking back. When he saw me, James (for his name was
+James Noble) made a curt and grotesque "boo," and said, "Maister John,
+this is the mistress; she's got a trouble in her breest--some kind o'
+an income we're thinkin'."
+
+By this time I saw the woman's face; she was sitting on a sack filled
+with straw, her husband's plaid round her, and his big-coat with its
+large white metal buttons over her feet.
+
+I never saw a more unforgettable face--pale, serious, _lonely_,
+delicate, sweet, without being at all what we call fine. She looked
+sixty, and had on a mutch, white as snow, with its black ribbon; her
+silvery, smooth hair setting off her dark-gray eyes--eyes such as one
+sees only twice or thrice in a lifetime, full of suffering, full also
+of the overcoming of it: her eyebrows black and delicate, and her
+mouth firm, patient, and contented, which few mouths ever are.
+
+As I have said, I never saw a more beautiful countenance or one more
+subdued to settled quiet. "Ailie," said James, "this is Maister John,
+the young doctor; Rab's freend, ye ken. We often speak aboot you,
+doctor." She smiled, and made a movement, but said nothing; and prepared
+to come down, putting her plaid aside and rising. Had Solomon, in all
+his glory, been handing down the Queen of Sheba at his palace gate he
+could not have done it more daintily, more tenderly, more like a
+gentleman, than did James the Howgate carrier, when he lifted down Ailie
+his wife. The contrast of his small, swarthy, weather-beaten, keen,
+worldly face to hers--pale, subdued, and beautiful--was something
+wonderful. Rab looked on concerned and puzzled, but ready for anything
+that might turn up--were it to strangle the nurse, the porter, or even
+me. Ailie and he seemed great friends.
+
+"As I was sayin' she's got a kind o' trouble in her breest, doctor;
+wull ye tak' a look at it?" We walked into the consulting-room, all
+four; Rab grim and comic, willing to be happy and confidential if
+cause could be shown, willing also to be the reverse, on the same
+terms. Ailie sat down, undid her open gown and her lawn handkerchief
+round her neck, and without a word, showed me her right breast. I
+looked at and examined it carefully--she and James watching me, and
+Rab eyeing all three. What could I say? there it was, that had once
+been so soft, so shapely, so white, so gracious and bountiful, so
+"full of all blessed conditions,"--hard as a stone, a centre of horrid
+pain, making that pale face with its gray, lucid, reasonable eyes, and
+its sweet resolved mouth, express the full measure of suffering
+overcome. Why was that gentle, modest, sweet woman, clean and lovable,
+condemned by God to bear such a burden?
+
+I got her away to bed. "May Rab and me bide?" said James. "_You_ may;
+and Rab, if he will behave himself." "I'se warrant he's do that,
+doctor;" and in slank the faithful beast. I wish you could have seen
+him. There are no such dogs now. He belonged to a lost tribe. As I
+have said, he was brindled and gray like Rubislaw granite; his hair
+short, hard, and close, like a lion's; his body thick set like a
+little bull--a sort of compressed Hercules of a dog. He must have
+been ninety pounds' weight, at the least; he had a large blunt head;
+his muzzle black as night, his mouth blacker than any night, a tooth
+or two--being all he had--gleaming out of his jaws of darkness. His
+head was scarred with the records of old wounds, a sort of series of
+fields of battle all over it; one eye out, one ear cropped as close as
+was Archbishop Leighton's father's; the remaining eye had the power of
+two; and above it, and in constant communication with it, was a
+tattered rag of an ear, which was forever unfurling itself, like an
+old flag; and then that bud of a tail, about one inch long, if it
+could in any sense be said to be long, being as broad as long--the
+mobility, the instantaneousness of that bud were very funny and
+surprising, and its expressive twinklings and winkings, the
+intercommunications between the eye, the ear, and it, were of the
+oddest and swiftest.
+
+Rab had the dignity and simplicity of great size; and having fought
+his way along the road to absolute supremacy, he was as mighty in his
+own line as Julius Caesar or the Duke of Wellington, and had the
+gravity of all great fighters.
+
+You must have often observed the likeness of certain men to certain
+animals, and of certain dogs to men. Now, I never looked at Rab
+without thinking of the great Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller. The
+same large, heavy, menacing, combative, sombre, honest countenance,
+the same deep inevitable eye, the same look--as of thunder asleep, but
+ready--neither a dog nor a man to be trifled with.
+
+Next day, my master, the surgeon, examined Ailie. There was no doubt
+it must kill her, and soon. It could be removed--it might never
+return--it would give her speedy relief--she should have it done. She
+curtsied, looked at James, and said, "When?" "To-morrow," said the
+kind surgeon--a man of few words. She and James and Rab and I retired.
+I noticed that he and she spoke little, but seemed to anticipate
+everything in each other. The following day, at noon, the students
+came in, hurrying up the great stair. At the first landing-place, on a
+small well-known blackboard, was a bit of paper fastened by wafers,
+and many remains of old wafers beside it. On the paper were the
+words--"An operation to-day. J.B. _Clerk_."
+
+Up ran the youths, eager to secure good places: in they crowded, full
+of interest and talk. "What's the case?" "Which side is it?"
+
+Don't think them heartless; they are neither better nor worse than you
+or I; they get over their professional horrors, and into their proper
+work--and in them pity--as an _emotion_, ending in itself or at best
+in tears and a long-drawn breath, lessens, while pity as a _motive_,
+is quickened, and gains power and purpose. It is well for poor human
+nature that it is so.
+
+The operating theatre is crowded; much talk and fun, and all the
+cordiality and stir of youth. The surgeon with his staff of assistants
+is there. In comes Ailie: one look at her quiets and abates the eager
+students. That beautiful old woman is too much for them; they sit
+down, and are dumb, and gaze at her. These rough boys feel the power
+of her presence. She walks in quickly, but without haste; dressed in
+her mutch, her neckerchief, her white dimity short-gown, her black
+bombazine petticoat, showing her white worsted stockings and her
+carpet-shoes. Behind her was James with Rab. James sat down in the
+distance, and took that huge and noble head between his knees. Rab
+looked perplexed and dangerous; forever cocking his ear and dropping
+it as fast.
+
+Ailie stepped up on a seat, and laid herself on the table as her
+friend the surgeon told her; arranged herself, gave a rapid look at
+James, shut her eyes, rested herself on me, and took my hand. The
+operation was at once begun; it was necessarily slow; and
+chloroform--one of God's best gifts to his suffering children--was
+then unknown. The surgeon did his work. The pale face showed its pain,
+but was still and silent. Rab's soul was working within him; he saw
+that something strange was going on--blood flowing from his mistress,
+and she suffering; his ragged ear was up, and importunate; he growled
+and gave now and then a sharp impatient yelp; he would have liked to
+have done something to that man. But James had him firm, and gave him
+a _glower_ from time to time, and an intimation of a possible
+kick;--all the better for James, it kept his eye and his mind off
+Ailie.
+
+It is over: she is dressed, steps gently and decently down from the
+table, looks for James; then, turning to the surgeon and the students,
+she curtsies--and in a low, clear voice, begs their pardon if she has
+behaved ill. The students--all of us--wept like children; the surgeon
+happed her up carefully--and, resting on James and me, Ailie went to
+her room, Rab following. We put her to bed. James took off his heavy
+shoes, crammed with tackets, heel-capt and toe-capt, and put them
+carefully under the table, saying, "Maister John, I'm for nane o'yer
+strynge nurse bodies for Ailie. I'll be her nurse, and I'll gang aboot
+on my stockin' soles as canny as pussy." And so he did; and handy and
+clever, and swift and tender as any woman, was that horny-handed,
+snell, peremptory little man. Everything she got he gave her: he
+seldom slept; and often I saw his small shrewd eyes out of the
+darkness, fixed on her. As before, they spoke little.
+
+Rab behaved well, never moving, showing us how meek and gentle he
+could be, and occasionally, in his sleep, letting us know that he was
+demolishing some adversary. He took a walk with me every day,
+generally to the Candlemaker Row; but he was sombre and mild; declined
+doing battle, though some fit cases offered, and indeed submitted to
+sundry indignities; and was always very ready to turn, and came faster
+back, and trotted up the stair with much lightness, and went straight
+to that door.
+
+Jess, the mare, had been sent, with her weather-worn cart, to Howgate,
+and had doubtless her own dim and placid meditations and confusions,
+on the absence of her master and Rab, and her unnatural freedom from
+the road and her cart.
+
+For some days Ailie did well. The wound healed "by the first
+intention;" for as James said, "Oor Ailie's skin's ower clean to
+beil." The students came in quiet and anxious, and surrounded her bed.
+She said she liked to see their young, honest faces. The surgeon
+dressed her, and spoke to her in his own short kind way, pitying her
+through his eyes, Rab and James outside the circle--Rab being now
+reconciled, and even cordial, and having made up his mind that as yet
+nobody required worrying, but, as you may suppose, _semper paratus_.
+
+So far well: but, four days after the operation, my patient had a
+sudden and long shivering, a "groosin'," as she called it. I saw her
+soon after; her eyes were too bright, her cheek coloured; she was
+restless, and ashamed of being so; the balance was lost; mischief had
+begun. On looking at the wound, a blush of red told the secret: her
+pulse was rapid, her breathing anxious and quick, she wasn't herself,
+as she said, and was vexed at her restlessness. We tried what we
+could; James did everything, was everywhere; never in the way, never
+out of it; Rab subsided under the table into a dark place, and was
+motionless, all but his eye, which followed every one. Ailie got
+worse; began to wander in her mind, gently; was more demonstrative in
+her ways to James, rapid in her questions, and sharp at times. He was
+vexed, and said, "She was never that way afore; no, never." For a time
+she knew her head was wrong, and was always asking our pardon--the
+dear, gentle old woman: then delirium set in strong, without pause.
+Her brain gave way, and then came that terrible spectacle--
+
+     "The intellectual power, through words and things,
+      Went sounding on its dim and perilous way."
+
+she sang bits of old songs and Psalms, stopping suddenly, mingling the
+Psalms of David and the diviner words of his Son and Lord, with homely
+odds and ends and scraps of ballads.
+
+Nothing more touching, or in a sense more strangely beautiful, did I
+ever witness. Her tremulous, rapid, affectionate, eager, Scotch
+voice--the swift, aimless, bewildered mind, the baffled utterance, the
+bright and perilous eye; some wild words, some household cares,
+something for James, the names of the dead, Rab called rapidly and in
+a "fremyt" voice, and he starting up surprised, and slinking off as if
+he were to blame somehow, or had been dreaming he heard; many eager
+questions and beseechings which James and I could make nothing of, and
+on which she seemed to set her all, and then sink back ununderstood.
+It was very sad, but better than many things that are not called sad.
+James hovered about, put out and miserable, but active and exact as
+ever; read to her when there was a lull, short bits from the Psalms,
+prose and metre, chanting the latter in his own rude and serious way,
+showing great knowledge of the fit words, bearing up like a man, and
+doating over her as his "ain Ailie." "Ailie, ma woman!" "Ma ain bonnie
+wee dawtie!"
+
+The end was drawing on: the golden bowl was breaking; the silver cord
+was fast being loosed--that _animula blandula, vagula, hospes,
+comesque_, was about to flee. The body and the soul--companions for
+sixty years--were being sundered, and taking leave. She was walking
+alone, through the valley of that shadow, into which one day we must
+all enter--and yet she was not alone, for we know whose rod and staff
+were comforting her.
+
+One night she had fallen quiet, and as we hoped, asleep; her eyes were
+shut. We put down the gas and sat watching her. Suddenly she sat up in
+bed, and taking a bed-gown which was lying on it rolled up, she held
+it eagerly to her breast--to the right side. We could see her eyes
+bright with a surprising tenderness and joy, bending over this bundle
+of clothes. She held it as a woman holds her sucking child; opening
+out her night-gown impatiently, and holding it close, and brooding
+over it, and murmuring foolish little words, as over one whom his
+mother comforteth, and who sucks and is satisfied. It was pitiful and
+strange to see her wasted dying look, keen and yet vague--her immense
+love.
+
+"Preserve me!" groaned James, giving way. And then she rocked back and
+forward, as if to make it sleep, hushing it, and wasting on it her
+infinite fondness. "Wae's me, doctor; I declare she's thinkin' it's
+that bairn." "What bairn?" "The only bairn we ever had; our wee Mysie,
+and she's in the Kingdom, forty years and mair." It was plainly true:
+the pain in the breast, telling its urgent story to a bewildered,
+ruined brain, was misread and mistaken; it suggested to her the
+uneasiness of a breast full of milk and then the child; and so again
+once more they were together and she had her ain wee Mysie in her
+bosom.
+
+This was the close. She sank rapidly: the delirium left her; but as,
+she whispered, she was "clean silly;" it was the lightening before the
+final darkness. After having for some time lain still--her eyes shut,
+she said "James!" He came close to her, and lifting up her calm,
+clear, beautiful eyes, she gave him a long look, turned to me kindly
+but shortly, looked for Rab but could not see him, then turned to her
+husband again, as if she would never leave off looking, shut her eyes,
+and composed herself. She lay for some time breathing quick, and
+passed away so gently, that when we thought she was gone, James, in
+his old-fashioned way, held the mirror to her face. After a long
+pause, one small spot of dimness was breathed out; it vanished away,
+and never returned, leaving the blank clear darkness of the mirror
+without a stain. "What is our life? it is even a vapour, which
+appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away."
+
+Rab all this time had been full awake and motionless; he came forward
+beside us: Ailie's hand, which James had held, was hanging down, it
+was soaked with his tears; Rab licked it all over carefully, looked at
+her, and returned to his place under the table.
+
+James and I sat, I don't know how long, but for some time--saying
+nothing: he started up abruptly, and with some noise went to the
+table, and putting his right fore and middle fingers each into a shoe,
+pulled them out, and put them on, breaking one of the leather
+latchets, and muttering in anger, "I never did the like o' that
+afore!"
+
+I believe he never did; nor after either. "Rab!" he said roughly, and
+pointing with his thumb to the bottom of the bed. Rab leapt up and
+settled himself; his head and eye to the dead face. "Maister John,
+ye'll wait for me," said the carrier; and disappeared in the darkness,
+thundering downstairs in his heavy shoes. I ran to a front window;
+there he was, already round the house, and out at the gate, fleeing
+like a shadow.
+
+I was afraid about him, and yet not afraid; so I sat down beside Rab,
+and being wearied, fell asleep. I awoke from a sudden noise outside.
+It was November, and there had been a heavy fall of snow. Rab was _in
+statu quo_; he heard the noise too, and plainly knew it, but never
+moved. I looked out; and there, at the gate, in the dim morning--for
+the sun was not up--was Jess and the cart--a cloud of steam rising
+from the old mare. I did not see James; he was already at the door,
+and came up the stairs and met me. It was less than three hours since
+he left, and he must have posted out--who knows how?--to Howgate, full
+nine miles off; yoked Jess, and driven her astonished into town. He
+had an armful of blankets and was streaming with perspiration. He
+nodded to me, spread out on the floor two pairs of clean old blankets
+having at their corners, "A.G., 1794," in large letters in red
+worsted. These were the initials of Alison Graeme, and James may have
+looked in at her from without--himself unseen but not unthought
+of--when he was "wat, wat, and weary," and after having walked many a
+mile over the hills, may have seen her sitting, while "a' the lave
+were sleepin';" and by the firelight working her name on the blankets
+for her ain James's bed.
+
+He motioned Rab down, and taking his wife in his arms, laid her in the
+blankets, and happed her carefully and firmly up, leaving the face
+uncovered; and then lifting her, he nodded again sharply to me, and
+with a resolved but utterly miserable face, strode along the passage,
+and downstairs, followed by Rab. I followed with a light; but he
+didn't need it. I went out, holding stupidly the candle in my hand in
+the calm frosty air; we were soon at the gate. I could have helped
+him, but I saw he was not to be meddled with, and he was strong, and
+did not need it. He laid her down as tenderly, as safely, as he had
+lifted her out ten days before--as tenderly as when he had her first
+in his arms when she was only "A.G."--sorted her, leaving that
+beautiful sealed face open to the heavens; and then taking Jess by the
+head, he moved away. He did not notice me, neither did Rab, who
+presided behind the cart.
+
+I stood till they passed through the long shadow of the College, and
+turned up Nicholson Street. I heard the solitary cart sound through
+the streets, and die away and come again; and I returned, thinking of
+that company going up Libberton Brae, then along Roslin Muir, the
+morning light touching the Pentlands and making them like on-looking
+ghosts; then down the hill through Auchindinny woods, past "haunted
+Woodhouselee"; and as daybreak came sweeping up the bleak Lammermuirs,
+and fell on his own door, the company would stop, and James would take
+the key, and lift Ailie up again, laying her on her own bed, and,
+having put Jess up, would return with Rab and shut the door.
+
+James buried his wife, with his neighbours mourning, Rab inspecting
+the solemnity from a distance. It was snow, and that black ragged hole
+would look strange in the midst of the swelling spotless cushion of
+white. James looked after everything; then rather suddenly fell ill,
+and took to bed; was insensible when the doctor came, and soon died. A
+sort of low fever was prevailing in the village, and his want of
+sleep, his exhaustion, and his misery, made him apt to take it. The
+grave was not difficult to reopen. A fresh fall of snow had again made
+all things white and smooth; Rab once more looked on, and slunk home
+to the stable.
+
+And what of Rab? I asked for him next week of the new carrier who got
+the goodwill of James's business, and was now master of Jess and her
+cart. "How's Rab?" He put me off, and said rather rudely, "What's
+_your_ business wi' the dowg?" I was not to be so put off. "Where's
+Rab?" He, getting confused and red, and intermeddling with his hair,
+said, "'Deed, sir, Rab's deid." "Dead! what did he die of?" "Weel,
+sir," said he, getting redder, "he didna exactly dee; he was killed. I
+had to brain him wi' a rack-pin; there was nae doin' wi' him. He lay
+in the treviss wi' the mear, and wadna come oot. I tempit him wi' kail
+and meat, but he wad tak naething, and keepit me frae feedin' the
+beast, and he was aye gur gurrin', and grup gruppin' me by the legs. I
+was laith to make awa wi' the auld dowg, his like wasna atween this
+and Thornhill--but, 'deed, sir, I could do naething else." I believed
+him. Fit end for Rab, quick and complete. His teeth and his friends
+gone, why should he keep the peace, and be civil?
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+PETER RUGG, THE MISSING MAN[2]
+
+
+Sir--Agreeably to my promise, I now relate to you all the particulars
+of the lost man and child which I have been able to collect. It is
+entirely owing to the humane interest you seemed to take in the
+report, that I have pursued the inquiry to the following result.
+
+You may remember that business called me to Boston in the summer of
+1820. I sailed in the packet to Providence, and when I arrived there I
+learned that every seat in the stage was engaged. I was thus obliged
+either to wait a few hours or accept a seat with the driver, who
+civilly offered me that accommodation. Accordingly I took my seat by
+his side, and soon found him intelligent and communicative.
+
+When we had travelled about ten miles, the horses suddenly threw their
+ears on their necks, as flat as a hare's. Said the driver, "Have you a
+surtout with you?" "No," said I; "why do you ask?" "You will want one
+soon," said he; "do you observe the ears of all the horses?" "Yes, and
+was just about to ask the reason." "They see the storm-breeder, and we
+shall see him soon." At this moment there was not a cloud visible in
+the firmament. Soon after a small speck appeared in the road. "There,"
+said my companion, "comes the storm-breeder; he always leaves a Scotch
+mist behind him. By many a wet jacket do I remember him. I suppose the
+poor fellow suffers much himself, much more than is known to the
+world." Presently a man with a child beside him, with a large black
+horse, and a weather-beaten chair, once built for a chaise body,
+passed in great haste, apparently at the rate of twelve miles an hour.
+He seemed to grasp the reins of his horse with firmness, and appeared
+to anticipate his speed. He seemed dejected, and looked anxiously at
+the passengers, particularly at the stage-driver and myself. In a
+moment after he passed us, the horses' ears were up and bent
+themselves forward so that they nearly met. "Who is that man?" said I;
+"he seems in great trouble." "Nobody knows who is he, but his person
+and the child are familiar to me. I have met them more than a hundred
+times, and have been so often asked the way to Boston by that man,
+even when he was travelling directly from that town, that of late I
+have refused any communication with him, and that is the reason he
+gave me such a fixed look." "But does he never stop anywhere?" "I have
+never known him to stop anywhere longer than to inquire the way to
+Boston; and, let him be where he may, he will tell you he cannot stay
+a moment, for he must reach Boston that night."
+
+We were now ascending a high hill in Walpole, and as we had a fair
+view of the heavens, I was rather disposed to jeer the driver for
+thinking of his surtout, as not a cloud as big as a marble could be
+discerned. "Do you look," said he, "in the direction whence the man
+came, that is the place to look; the storm never meets him, it follows
+him." We presently approached another hill, and when at the height,
+the driver pointed out in an eastern direction a little black speck as
+big as a hat. "There," said he, "is the seed storm; we may possibly
+reach Polley's before it reaches us, but the wanderer and his child
+will go to Providence through rain, thunder, and lightning." And now
+the horses, as though taught by instinct, hastened with increased
+speed. The little black cloud came on rolling over the turnpike, and
+doubled and trebled itself in all directions. The appearance of this
+cloud attracted the notice of all the passengers; for after it had
+spread itself to a great bulk, it suddenly became more limited in
+circumference, grew more compact, dark, and consolidated. And now the
+successive flashes of chain lightning caused the whole cloud to appear
+like a sort of irregular network, and displayed a thousand fantastic
+images. The driver bespoke my attention to a remarkable configuration
+in the cloud; he said every flash of lightning near its centre
+discovered to him distinctly the form of a man sitting in an open
+carriage drawn by a black horse. But in truth I saw no such thing. The
+man's fancy was doubtless at fault. It is a very common thing for the
+imagination to paint for the senses, both in the visible and invisible
+world.
+
+In the meantime the distant thunder gave notice of a shower at hand,
+and just as we reached Polley's tavern the rain poured down in
+torrents. It was soon over, the cloud passing in the direction of the
+turnpike toward Providence. In a few moments after, a
+respectable-looking man in a chaise stopped at the door. The man and
+child in the chair having excited some little sympathy among the
+passengers, the gentleman was asked if he had observed them. He said
+he had met them; that the man seemed bewildered, and inquired the way
+to Boston; that he was driving at great speed, as though he expected
+to outstrip the tempest; that the moment he had passed him a
+thunderclap broke distinctly over the man's head and seemed to envelop
+both man and child, horse and carriage. "I stopped," said the
+gentleman, "supposing the lightning had struck him, but the horse only
+seemed to loom up and increase his speed, and, as well as I could
+judge, he travelled just as fast as the thunder cloud." While this
+man was speaking, a peddler with a cart of tin merchandise came up,
+all dripping; and, on being questioned, he said he had met that man
+and carriage, within a fortnight, in four different States; that at
+each time he had inquired the way to Boston; and that a thunder shower
+like the present had each time deluged him, his wagon and his wares,
+setting his tin pots, etc., afloat, so that he had determined to get
+marine insurance done for the future. But that which excited his
+surprise most was the strange conduct of his horse, for that, long
+before he could distinguish the man in the chair, his own horse stood
+still in the road and flung back his ears. "In short," said the
+peddler, "I wish never to see that man and horse again; they do not
+look to me as if they belonged to this world."
+
+This is all that I could learn at that time; and the occurrence soon
+after would have become with me like one of those things which had
+never happened, had I not, as I stood recently on the doorstep of
+Bennett's Hotel in Hartford, heard a man say, "There goes Peter Rugg
+and his child! he looks wet and weary, and farther from Boston than
+ever." I was satisfied it was the same man that I had seen more than
+three years before; for whoever has once seen Peter Rugg can never
+after be deceived as to his identity. "Peter Rugg!" said I, "and who
+is Peter Rugg?" "That," said the stranger, "is more than anyone can
+tell exactly. He is a famous traveller, held in light esteem by all
+inn-holders, for he never stops to eat, drink, or sleep. I wonder why
+the Government does not employ him to carry the mail." "Ay," said a
+bystander, "that is a thought bright only on one side. How long would
+it take, in that case, to send a letter to Boston? For Peter has
+already, to my knowledge, been more than twenty years travelling to
+that place." "But," said I, "does the man never stop anywhere, does
+he never converse with anyone? I saw the same man more than three
+years since, near Providence, and I heard a strange story about him.
+Pray, sir, give me some account of this man." "Sir," said the
+stranger, "those who know the most respecting that man say the least.
+I have heard it asserted that heaven sometimes sets a mark on a man,
+either for judgment or trial. Under which Peter Rugg now labours I
+cannot say; therefore I am rather inclined to pity than to judge."
+"You speak like a humane man," said I, "and if you have known him so
+long, I pray you will give me some account of him. Has his appearance
+much altered in that time?" "Why, yes; he looks as though he never
+ate, drank, or slept; and his child looks older than himself; and he
+looks like time broke off from eternity and anxious to gain a
+resting-place." "And how does his horse look?" said I. "As for his
+horse, he looks fatter and gayer, and shows more animation and
+courage, than he did twenty years ago. The last time Rugg spoke to me
+he inquired how far it was to Boston. I told him just one hundred
+miles. 'Why,' said he, 'how can you deceive me so? It is cruel to
+deceive a traveller. I have lost my way. Pray direct me the nearest
+way to Boston.' I repeated it was one hundred miles. 'How can you say
+so?' said he. 'I was told last evening it was but fifty, and I have
+travelled all night.' 'But,' said I, 'you are now travelling from
+Boston. You must turn back.' 'Alas!' said he, 'it is all turn back!
+Boston shifts with the wind, and plays all around the compass. One man
+tells me it is to the east, another to the west; and the guide-posts,
+too, they all point the wrong way.' 'But will you not stop and rest?'
+said I; 'you seem wet and weary.' 'Yes,' said he, 'it has been foul
+weather since I left home.' 'Stop, then, and refresh yourself.' 'I
+must not stop, I must reach home to-night, if possible, though I
+think you must be mistaken in the distance to Boston.' He then gave
+the reins to his horse, which he restrained with difficulty, and
+disappeared in a moment. A few days afterwards I met the man a little
+this side of Claremont, winding around the hills in Unity, at the
+rate, I believe, of twenty miles an hour."
+
+"Is Peter Rugg his real name, or has he accidentally gained that
+name?" "I know not, but presume he will not deny his name; you can ask
+him, for see, he has turned his horse and is passing this way." In a
+moment a dark-coloured, high-spirited horse approached, and would have
+passed without stopping, but I had resolved to speak to Peter Rugg, or
+whoever the man might be. Accordingly. I stepped into the street, and
+as the horse approached I made a feint of stopping him. The man
+immediately reined in his horse. "Sir," said I, "may I be so bold as
+to inquire if you are not Mr. Rugg? for I think I have seen you
+before." "My name is Peter Rugg," said he; "I have unfortunately lost
+my way; I am wet and weary, and will take it kindly of you to direct
+me to Boston." "You live in Boston, do you, and in what street?" "In
+Middle Street." "When did you leave Boston?" "I cannot tell precisely;
+it seems a considerable time." "But how did you and your child become
+so wet? it has not rained here to-day." "It has just rained a heavy
+shower up the river. But I shall not reach Boston to-night if I tarry.
+Would you advise me to take the old road, or the turnpike?" "Why, the
+old road is one hundred and seventeen miles, and the turnpike is
+ninety-seven." "How can you say so? you impose on me; it is wrong to
+trifle with a traveller; you know it is but forty miles from
+Newburyport to Boston." "But this is not Newburyport; this is
+Hartford." "Do not deceive me, sir. Is not this town Newburyport, and
+the river that I have been following the Merrimac?" "No, sir; this is
+Hartford, and the river the Connecticut." He wrung his hands and
+looked incredulous. "Have the rivers, too, changed their courses as
+the cities have changed places? But see, the clouds are gathering in
+the south, and we shall have a rainy night. Ah, that fatal oath!" He
+would tarry no longer. His impatient horse leaped off, his hind flanks
+rising like wings--he seemed to devour all before him and to scorn all
+behind.
+
+I had now, as I thought, discovered a clue to the history of Peter
+Rugg, and I determined, the next time my business called me to Boston,
+to make a further inquiry. Soon after I was enabled to collect the
+following particulars from Mrs. Croft, an aged lady in Middle Street,
+who has resided in Boston during the last twenty years. Her narration
+is this: The last summer a person, just at twilight, stopped at the
+door of the late Mrs. Rugg. Mrs. Croft, on coming to the door,
+perceived a stranger, with a child by his side, in an old,
+weather-beaten carriage, with a black horse. The stranger asked for
+Mrs. Rugg, and was informed that Mrs. Rugg had died, at a good old
+age, more than twenty years before that time. The stranger replied,
+"How can you deceive me so? do ask Mrs. Rugg to step to the door."
+"Sir, I assure you Mrs. Rugg has not lived here these nineteen years;
+no one lives here but myself, and my name is Betsey Croft." The
+stranger paused, and looked up and down the street and said, "Though
+the painting is rather faded, this looks like my house." "Yes," said
+the child, "that is the stone before the door that I used to sit on to
+eat my bread and milk." "But," said the stranger, "it seems to be on
+the wrong side of the street. Indeed, everything here seems to be
+misplaced. The streets are all changed, the people are all changed,
+the town seems changed, and, what is strangest of all, Catharine Rugg
+has deserted her husband and child." "Pray," said the stranger, "has
+John Foy come home from sea? He went a long voyage; he is my kinsman.
+If I could see him, he could give me some account of Mrs. Rugg."
+"Sir," said Mrs. Croft, "I never heard of John Foy. Where did he
+live?" "Just above here, in Orange-Tree Lane." "There is no such place
+in this neighbourhood." "What do you tell me! Are the streets gone?
+Orange-Tree Lane is at the head of Hanover Street, near Pemberton's
+Hill." "There is no such lane now." "Madam! you cannot be serious. But
+you doubtless know my brother, William Rugg. He lives in Royal
+Exchange Lane, near King Street." "I know of no such lane; and I I am
+sure there is no such street as King Street in this town." "No such
+street as King Street? Why, woman! you mock me. You may as well tell
+me there is no King George. However, madam, you see I am wet and
+weary. I must find a resting place. I will go to Hart's tavern, near
+the market." "Which market, sir? for you seem perplexed; we have
+several markets." "You know there is but one market, near the town
+dock." "Oh, the old market. But no such man as Hart has kept there
+these twenty years."
+
+Here the stranger seemed disconcerted, and muttered to himself quite
+audibly: "Strange mistake! How much this looks like the town of
+Boston! It certainly has a great resemblance to it; but I perceive my
+mistake now. Some other Mrs. Rugg, some other Middle Street." Then
+said he, "Madam, can you direct me to Boston?" "Why, this is Boston,
+the city of Boston. I know of no other Boston." "City of Boston it may
+be, but it is not the Boston where I live. I recollect now, I came
+over a bridge instead of a ferry. Pray what bridge is that I just came
+over?" "It is Charles River Bridge." "I perceive my mistake; there is
+a ferry between Boston and Charlestown, there is no bridge. Ah, I
+perceive my mistake. If I was in Boston, my horse would carry me
+directly to my own door. But my horse shows by his impatience that he
+is in a strange place. Absurd, that I should have mistaken this place
+for the old town of Boston! It is a much finer city than the town of
+Boston. It has been built long since Boston. I fancy Boston must lie
+at a distance from this city, as the good woman seems ignorant of it."
+At these words his horse began to chafe, and strike the pavement with
+his fore feet; the stranger seemed a little bewildered, and said "No
+home to-night," and, giving the reins to his horse, passed up the
+street, and I saw no more of him.
+
+It was evident that the generation to which Peter Rugg belonged had
+passed away.
+
+This was all the account of Peter Rugg I could obtain from Mrs. Croft;
+but she directed me to an elderly man, Mr. James Felt, who lived near
+her, and who had kept a record of the principal occurrences for the
+last fifty years. At my request she sent for him; and, after I had
+related to him the object of my inquiry, Mr. Felt told me he had known
+Rugg in his youth; that his disappearance had caused some surprise;
+but as it sometimes happens that men run away, sometimes to be rid of
+others, and sometimes to be rid of themselves; and as Rugg took his
+child with him, and his own horse and chair; and as it did not appear
+that any creditors made a stir, the occurrence soon mingled itself in
+the stream of oblivion; and Rugg and his child, horse and chair, were
+soon forgotten. "It is true," said Mr. Felt, "sundry stories grew out
+of Rugg's affair, whether true or false I cannot tell; but stranger
+things have happened in my day, without even a newspaper notice."
+"Sir," said I, "Peter Rugg is now living. I have lately seen Peter
+Rugg and his child, horse and chair; therefore I pray you to relate to
+me all you know or ever heard of him." "Why, my friend," said James
+Felt, "that Peter Rugg is now a living man I will not deny; but that
+you have seen Peter Rugg and his child is impossible, if you mean a
+small child, for Jenny Rugg, if living, must be at least--let me
+see--Boston Massacre, 1770--Jenny Rugg was about ten years old. Why,
+sir, Jenny Rugg if living must be more than sixty years of age. That
+Peter Rugg is living is highly probable, as he was only ten years
+older than myself; and I was only eighty last March, and I am as
+likely to live twenty years longer as any man." Here I perceived that
+Mr. Felt was in his dotage, and I despaired of gaining any
+intelligence from him on which I could depend.
+
+I took my leave of Mrs. Croft, and proceeded to my lodgings at the
+Marlborough Hotel.
+
+If Peter Rugg, thought I, has been travelling since the Boston
+Massacre, there is no reason why he should not travel to the end of
+time. If the present generation know little of him, the next will know
+less, and Peter and his child will have no hold on this world.
+
+In the course of the evening I related my adventure in Middle Street.
+"Ha!" said one of the company, smiling, "do you really think you have
+seen Peter Rugg? I have heard my grandfather speak of him as though he
+seriously believed his own story." "Sir," said I, "pray let us compare
+your grandfather's story of Mr. Rugg with my own." "Peter Rugg, sir,
+if my grandfather was worthy of credit, once lived in Middle Street,
+in this city. He was a man in comfortable circumstances, had a wife
+and one daughter, and was generally esteemed for his sober life and
+manners. But unhappily his temper at times was altogether
+ungovernable, and then his language was terrible. In these fits of
+passion, if a door stood in his way he would never do less than kick a
+panel through. He would sometimes throw his heels over his head, and
+come down on his feet, uttering oaths in a circle. And thus, in a
+rage, he was the first who performed a somerset, and did what others
+have since learned to do for merriment and money. Once Rugg was seen
+to bite a tenpenny nail in halves. In those days everybody, both men
+and boys, wore wigs; and Peter, at these moments of violent passion,
+would become so profane that his wig would rise up from his head. Some
+said it was on account of his terrible language; others accounted for
+it in a more philosophical way, and said it was caused by the
+expansion of his scalp, as violent passion, we know, will swell the
+veins and expand the head. While these fits were on him, Rugg had no
+respect for heaven or earth. Except this infirmity, all agreed that
+Rugg was a good soft of a man; for when his fits were over, nobody was
+so ready to commend a placid temper as Peter.
+
+"It was late in autumn, one morning, that Rugg, in his own chair, with
+a fine large bay horse, took his daughter and proceeded to Concord. On
+his return a violent storm overtook him. At dark he stopped in
+Menotomy (now West Cambridge), at the door of a Mr. Cutter, a friend
+of his, who urged him to tarry overnight. On Rugg's declining to stop,
+Mr. Cutter urged him vehemently. 'Why, Mr. Rugg,' said Cutter, 'the
+storm is overwhelming you; the night is exceeding dark; your little
+daughter will perish; you are in an open chair, and the tempest is
+increasing.' '_Let the storm increase_,' said Rugg, with a fearful
+oath, '_I will see home to-night, in spite of the last tempest! or may
+I never see home_.' At these words he gave his whip to his
+high-spirited horse, and disappeared in a moment. But Peter Rugg did
+not reach home that night, nor the next; nor, when he became a missing
+man, could he ever be traced beyond Mr. Cutter's in Menotomy. For a
+long time after, on every dark and stormy night, the wife of Peter
+Rugg would fancy she heard the crack of a whip, and the fleet tread of
+a horse, and the rattling of a carriage, passing her door. The
+neighbours, too, heard the same noises, and some said they knew it was
+Rugg's horse; the tread on the pavement was perfectly familiar to
+them. This occurred so repeatedly that at length the neighbours
+watched with lanterns, and saw the real Peter Rugg, with his own horse
+and chair, and child sitting beside him, pass directly before his own
+door, his head turning toward his house, and himself making every
+effort to stop his horse, but in vain. The next day the friends of
+Mrs. Rugg exerted themselves to find her husband and child. They
+inquired at every public house and stable in town; but it did not
+appear that Rugg made any stay in Boston. No one, after Rugg had
+passed his own door, could give any account of him; though it was
+asserted by some that the clatter of Rugg's horse and carriage over
+the pavements shook the houses on both sides of the street. And this
+is credible, if, indeed, Rugg's horse and carriage did pass on that
+night. For at this day, in many of the streets, a loaded truck or team
+in passing will shake the houses like an earthquake. However, Rugg's
+neighbours never afterward watched again; some of them treated it all
+as a delusion, and thought no more of it. Others, of a different
+opinion, shook their heads and said nothing. Thus Rugg and his child,
+horse and chair, were soon forgotten; and probably many in the
+neighbourhood never heard a word on the subject.
+
+"There was indeed a rumour that Rugg afterward was seen in
+Connecticut, between Suffield and Hartford, passing through the
+country like a streak of chalk. This gave occasion to Rugg's friends
+to make further inquiry. But the more they inquired, the more they
+were baffled. If they heard of Rugg one day in Connecticut, the next
+day they heard of him winding around the hills in New Hampshire; and
+soon after, a man in a chair, with a small child, exactly answering
+the description of Peter Rugg, would be seen in Rhode Island,
+inquiring the way to Boston.
+
+"But that which chiefly gave a colour of mystery to the story of Peter
+Rugg was the affair at Charlestown bridge. The toll-gatherer asserted
+that sometimes, on the darkest and most stormy nights, when no object
+could be discerned about the time Rugg was missing, a horse and
+wheelcarriage, with a noise equal to a troop, would at midnight, in
+utter contempt of the rates of toll, pass over the bridge. This
+occurred so frequently that the toll-gatherer resolved to attempt a
+discovery. Soon after, at the usual time, apparently the same horse
+and carriage approached the bridge from Charlestown square. The
+toll-gatherer, prepared, took his stand as near the middle of the
+bridge as he dared, with a large three-legged stool in his hand. As
+the appearance passed, he threw the stool at the horse, but heard
+nothing except the noise of the stool skipping across the bridge. The
+toll-gatherer on the next day asserted that the stool went directly
+through the body of the horse, and he persisted in that belief ever
+after. Whether Rugg, or whoever the person was, ever passed the bridge
+again, the toll-gatherer would never tell; and when questioned, seemed
+anxious to waive the subject. And thus Peter Rugg and his child, horse
+and carriage, remain a mystery to this day."
+
+This, sir, is all that I could learn of Peter Rugg in Boston....
+
+[Footnote 2: From Jonathan Dunwell of New York, to Mr. Herman Krauff.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Famous Stories Every Child Should Know, by Various
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