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diff --git a/6694.txt b/6694.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3b5614 --- /dev/null +++ b/6694.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4156 @@ +Project Gutenberg's In Midsummer Days and Other Tales, by August Strindberg + +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: In Midsummer Days and Other Tales + +Author: August Strindberg + +Translator: Ellie Schleussner + +Posting Date: March 20, 2009 +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6694] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN MIDSUMMER DAYS AND OTHER TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Nicole Apostola + + + + + + + + +IN MIDSUMMER DAYS + +AND OTHER TALES. + +By August Strindberg + +Translated By Ellie Schleussner + + + + + +CONTENTS + + IN MIDSUMMER DAYS + THE BIG GRAVEL-SIFTER + THE SLUGGARD + THE PILOT'S TROUBLES + PHOTOGRAPHER AND PHILOSOPHER + HALF A SHEET OF FOOLSCAP + CONQUERING HERO AND FOOL + WHAT THE TREE-SWALLOW SANG IN THE BUCKTHORN TREE + THE MYSTERY OF THE TOBACCO SHED + THE STORY OF THE ST. GOTTHARD + THE STORY OF JUBAL WHO HAD NO "I" + THE GOLDEN HELMETS IN THE ALLEBERG + LITTLE BLUEWING FINDS THE GOLDPOWDER + + + + +IN MIDSUMMER DAYS + +In Midsummer days when in the countries of the North the earth is a +bride, when the ground is full of gladness, when the brooks are still +running, the flowers in the meadows still untouched by the scythe, and +all the birds singing, a dove flew out of the wood and sat down before +the cottage in which the ninety-year-old granny lay in her bed. + +The old woman had been bedridden for twenty years, but she could see +through her window everything that happened in the farmyard which was +managed by her two sons. But she saw the world and the people in her own +peculiar manner, for time and the weather had painted her window-panes +with all the colours of the rainbow; she need but turn her head a little +and things appeared successively red, yellow, green, blue, and violet. +If she happened to look out on a cold winter's day when the trees were +covered with hoar-frost and the white foliage looked as if it were made +of silver, she had but to turn her head a little on the pillow, and +all the trees were green; it was summer-time, the ploughed fields were +yellow, and the sky looked blue even if a moment before it had been +ever so grey. And therefore the old granny imagined that she could work +magic, and was never bored. + +But the magical window-panes possessed another quality; they bulged a +little and consequently they magnified or reduced every object which +came into their field of vision. Whenever, therefore, her grown-up son +came home in a bad temper and scolded everybody, granny had but to wish +him to be a good little boy again, and straightway she saw him quite +small. Or, when she watched her grandchildren playing in the yard, and +thought of their future--one, two, three--she changed her position ever +so slightly, and they became grown-up men and women, as tall as giants. + +All during the summer the window stood open, for then the window-panes +could not show her anything so beautiful as the reality. And now, on +Midsummer Eve, the most beautiful time of all the year, she lay there +and looked at the meadows and towards the wood, where the dove was +singing its song. It sang most beautifully of the Lord Jesus, and the +joy and splendour of the Kingdom of Heaven, where all are welcome who +are weary and heavy laden. + +The old woman listened to the song for a little while, and then she laid +that she was much obliged, but that Heaven could be no more beautiful +than the earth itself, and she wanted nothing better. + +Thereupon the dove flew away over the meadow into the mountain glen, +where the farmer stood digging a well. He stood in a deep hole which +he had dug, three yards below the surface; it was just as if he were +standing in his grave. + +The dove settled on a fir tree and sung of the joy of Heaven, quite +convinced that the man in the hole, who could see neither sky, nor sea, +nor meadow, must be longing for Heaven. + +"No," said the farmer, "I must first dig a well; otherwise my summer +guest will have no water, and the unhappy little mother will take her +child and go and live elsewhere." + +The dove flew down to the strand, when the farmer's brother was busy +hauling in the fishing-nets; it sat among the rushes and began to sing. + +"No," said the farmer's brother, "I must provide food for my family, +otherwise my children will cry with hunger. Later on! Later on, I tell +you! Let's live first and die afterwards." + + +*** + +And the dove flew to the pretty cottage, where the unhappy little mother +had taken rooms for the summer. She sat on the verandah, working at a +sewing machine; her face was as white as a lily, and her red felt hat +looked like a huge poppy on her hair, which was as black as a mourning +veil. She was busy making a pinafore which her little girl was to wear +on Midsummer Eve, and the child sat at her feet on the floor, cutting up +little pieces of material which were not wanted. + +"Why isn't daddy coming home?" asked the little girl, looking up. + +That was a very difficult question, so difficult that the young mother +could not answer it; and very possibly daddy could not have answered it +either, for he was far away in a foreign country with his grief, which +was twice as great as mammy's. + +The sewing machine was not in good order, but it stitched and stitched; +it made as many pricks as a human heart can bear before it breaks, but +every prick only served to pull the thread tighter--it was curious! + +"I want to go to the village, mammy," said the little girl. "I want to +see the sun, for it is so dark here." + + +"You shall go and play in the sunshine this afternoon, darling." + +I must tell you that it was very dark between the high cliffs on this +side of the island; the cottage stood in a gloomy pine-grove, which +completely hid the view of the sea. + +"And I want you to buy me a lot of toys, mammy." + +"Darling, we have so little money to buy toys with," answered the +mother, bending her head still lower over their work. + +And that was the truth; for their comfort had changed into penury. They +had no servant, and the mother had to do the whole house-work herself. + +But when she saw the sad face of the little girl, she took her on her +knees. + +"Put your little arms round mammy's neck," she said. + +The little one obeyed. + +"Now give mammy a kiss!" + +The rosy little half-open mouth, which looked like the mouth of a little +bird, was pressed against her lips; and when the blue eyes, blue as the +flower of the flax, smiled into hers, her beautiful face reflected the +sweet innocence of the little one, and made her look like a happy child +herself, playing in the sunshine. + +"No use my singing to them of the Kingdom of Heaven," thought the dove, +"but if I can in any way serve them, I will." + +And then it flew away towards the sunny village, for it had work to do +there. + +*** + +It was afternoon now; the little mother took a basket on one arm and the +child's little hand into hers, and they left the cottage. She had never +been to the village, but she knew that it was situated somewhere towards +sunset, on the other side of the island, and the farmer had told her +that she would have to get over six stiles and walk through six latticed +gates before she could get there. + +And on they went. + +Their way lay along a footpath, full of stones and old tree-roots, so +that she was obliged to carry the little girl, and that was very hard +work. The doctor had told her that the child must not strain her left +foot, because it was so weak that it might easily have grown deformed. + +The young mother staggered along, under her beloved burden, and large +beads of perspiration stood like pearls on her forehead, for it was very +hot in the wood. + +"I am so thirsty, mammy," whispered the little, complaining voice. + +"Have patience, darling, there will be plenty of water when we get +there." + +And she kissed the little parched mouth, and the child smiled and +forgot all about her thirst. + +But the scorching rays of the sun burned their skin and there was not a +breath of air in the wood. + +"Try and walk a little, darling," said the mother, putting the child +down. + +But the little foot gave way and the child could not walk a step. + +"I am so tired, mammy," she laid, sitting down and beginning to cry. + +But the prettiest little flowers, which looked like rose-coloured +bells and smelt of sweet almonds, grew all over the spot where she was +sitting. She smiled when she saw them, for she had never seen anything +half as lovely, and her smile strengthened the heart of the mother so +that she could continue her walk with the child in her arms. + +Now they had arrived at the first gate. They passed through it and +carefully re-fastened the latch. + +All of a sudden they heard a noise like a loud neighing; a horse +galloped towards them, blocked the path and neighed again; its neighing +was answered on the right and the left and from all sides of the wood; +the ground trembled, the branches of the trees cracked, and the stones +were scattered in all directions by the approaching hoofs. In less than +no time the poor, frightened travellers were surrounded on all sides by +a herd of savage horses. + +The child hid her face on her mother's shoulder, and her little heart +ticked with fear like a watch. + +"I am so frightened!" she whispered. + +"Oh! Father in Heaven, help us!" prayed the mother. + +At the same moment a blackbird, sitting on a fir tree, began to sing; +the horses scudded away as fast as they could, and there was once more +silence in the wood. + +They came to the second gate, walked through and re-fastened the latch. + +They were on fallow ground now, and the sun scorched them even worse +than it had done before. They saw before them rows and rows of dull +clods of earth, but in a steep place the clods suddenly began to move, +and then they knew that what they had taken for clods of earth were +really the backs of a flock of sheep. + +Sheep are quite gentle and inoffensive, especially the little lambs, but +that is a good deal more than can be said of the ram, who is a savage +brute and often takes a delight in attacking those who have never done +him any harm. There he was already, jumping over a ditch right into +the middle of their path. He lowered his head and walked a few steps +backwards. + +"I am so frightened, mammy," said the little girl, and her heart began +to beat fast. + +"Oh! Merciful Father in Heaven, help us!" sighed the mother, with an +imploring look upwards. + +And high up, in the blue vault of the sky, fluttering its wings like +a butterfly, a little lark began to sing. And as it sang the ram +disappeared among the grey clods. + +They stood before the third gate. They were on a slope now; the ground +was swampy and before long they came to a crevice. The hillocks looked +like little graves, overgrown with vetch or white cotton-flowers and +they had to be careful to avoid sinking into the swamp. Black berries of +a poisonous kind grew in abundance everywhere; the little girl wanted +to gather them, and because her mother would not permit it, she began to +cry, for she did not understand what poisonous meant. + +And as they walked on, they noticed a white sheet, which looked as if it +had been drawn in and out through the trees; the sun disappeared behind +a bank of clouds and a white darkness, which was very went towards them, +hoping to find some water in the place whence they came. + +On their way they passed a white cottage, behind a green fence with +a white gate; the gate stood hospitably open. They entered and found +themselves in a garden where peonies and colombines grew. The mother +noticed that the curtains in the lower storey were all drawn before +the windows, and that all the curtains were white. But one of the +attic windows stood open and a white hand appeared above the pots of +touch-me-nots. It waved a little white handkerchief, as if it were +waving a last farewell to one who was going on a long journey. + +They walked as far as the cottage; in the high grass lay a wreath of +myrtle and white roses. But it was too big for a bridal wreath. + +They went through the front door and the mother called out if anybody +were in? As there was no reply they went into the parlour. On the floor, +surrounded by a whole forest of flowers, stood a black coffin with +silver feet and in the coffin lay a young girl with a bridal crown on +her head. + +The walls of the room were made of new pinewood and only varnished with +oil, so that all the knots were visible. And the knots in the knot-holes +looked for all the world like so many eyes. + +"Oh! Just look at all the eyes, mammy," exclaimed the little girl. + +Yes, there were eyes of every description; big eyes, eloquent eyes, +grave eyes; little shining baby eyes, with a lurking smile in the +corner; wicked eyes, which showed too much white; frank and candid eyes, +which looked one straight into the heart; and, over there, a big, gentle +mother's eye, which regarded the dead girl lovingly; and a transparent +tear of resin trembled on the lid, and sparkled in the setting sun like +a green and red diamond. + +"Is she asleep?" asked the child, looking into the face of the dead +girl. + +"Yes, she is asleep." + +"Is she a bride, mammy?" + +"Yes, darling." + +The mother had recognised her. It was the girl who was to be a bride on +Midsummer day, when her sailor lover would return home; but the sailor +had written to say that he would not be home until the autumn, and his +letter had broken her heart; for she could not bear to wait until the +autumn, when the leaves would drop dead from the trees and the winter +wind have a rough game with them in the lanes and alleys. + +She had heard the song of the dove and taken it to heart. + +The young mother left the cottage; now she knew where she would go. She +put the heavy basket down outside the gate and took the child into her +arms; and so she walked across the meadow which separated her from the +shore. + +The meadow was a perfect sea of flowers, waving and whispering round her +ankles, and the pollen water was calm and blue; and presently it was +not water through which they sailed, but the blue blossoms of the flax, +which she gathered in her outstretched hands. + +And the flowers bent down and rose up again, whispering, lapping against +the sides of the boat like little waves. The flax-field before them +appeared to be infinite, but presently a white mist enveloped them, and +they heard the plashing of real waves, but above the mist they heard a +lark singing. + +"How does the lark come to sing on the sea?" asked the child. + +"The sea is so green that the lark takes it for a meadow," answered the +mother. + +The mist had dispersed again. The sky was blue and the lark was still +singing. + +Then they saw, straight before them, in the middle of the sea, a green +island with a white, sandy beach, and people, dressed all in pure white, +walking hand in hand. The setting sun shone on the golden roof of a +colonnade, where white fires burnt in sacred sacrificial vessels; and +the green island was spanned by a rainbow, the colour of which was +rose-red and sedge-green. + +"What is it, mammy?" + +The mother could make no reply. + +"Is it the Kingdom of Heaven of which the dove sang? What is the Kingdom +of Heaven, mammy?" + +"A place, darling, where all people love one another," answered the +mother, "where there is neither grief nor strife." + +"Then let us go there," said the child. + +"Yes, we will go," said the tired, forsaken little mother. + + + + + +THE BIG GRAVEL-SIFTER + +An eel-mother and her son were lying at the bottom of the sea, close to +the landing-stage, watching a young fisherman getting ready his line. + +"Just look at him!" said the eel-mother, "there you have an example of +the malice and cunning of the world.... Watch him! He is holding a whip +in his hand; he throws out the whip-lash--there it is! attached to it is +a weight which makes it sink--there's the weight! and below the weight +is the hook with the worm. Don't take it in your mouth, whatever you +do, for if you do, you are caught. As a rule only the silly bass and +red-eyes take the bait. There! Now you know all about it." + +The forest of seaweed with its shells and snails began to rock; a +plashing and drumming could be heard and a huge red whale passed like +a flash over their heads; he had a tail-fin like a cork-screw, and that +was what he worked with. + +"That's a steamer," said the eel-mother; "make room!" + +She had hardly spoken these words when a furious uproar arose above. +There was a tramping and stamping as if the people overhead were intent +on building a bridge between the shore and the boat in two seconds. But +it was difficult to see anything on account of the oil and soot which +were making the water thick and muddy. + +There was something very heavy on the bridge now, so heavy that it made +it creak, and men's voices were shouting: + +"Lift it up!--Ho, there!--Up!--Hold tight!--Up with it!--Up!--Push it +along!--Lift it up!" + +Then something indescribable happened. First it sounded as if sixty +piles of wood were all being sawn at the same time; then a cleft opened +in the water which went down to the bottom of the sea, and there, wedged +between three stones, stood a black box, which sang and played and +tinkled and jingled, close to the eel-mother and her son, who hastily +disappeared in the lowest depths of the ocean. + +Then a voice up above shouted:-- + +"Three fathoms deep! Impossible! Leave it alone. It isn't worth while +hauling the old lumber up again; it would cost more to repair than it's +worth." + +The voice belonged to the master of the mine, whose piano had fallen +into the sea. + +Silence followed; the huge fish with a fin like a screw swam away, and +the silence deepened. + +After sunset a breeze arose; the black box in the forest of seaweed +rocked and knocked against the stones, and at every knock it played, +so that the fishes came swimming from all directions to watch and to +listen. + +The eel-mother was the first to put in an appearance. And when she saw +herself reflected in the polished surface, she said: "It's a wardrobe +with a plate-glass door." + +There was logic in her remark, and therefore all the others said: "It is +a wardrobe with a plate-glass door." + +Next a rock-fish arrived and smelt at the candlesticks, which had +not yet come off. Tiny bits of candle ends were still sticking in the +sockets. "That's something to eat," it said, "if only it weren't for the +whipcord!" + +Then a great bass came and lay flat on the pedal; but immediately there +arose such a rumbling in the box that all the fishes hastily swam away. + +They got no further on that day. + +At night it blew half a gale, and the musical box went thump, thump, +thump, like a pavier's beetle, until sunrise. When the eel-mother +and all the rest of them returned, they found that it had undergone a +change. + +The lid stood open like a shark's mouth; they saw a row of teeth, bigger +than they had ever seen before, but every other tooth was black. The +whole machine was swollen at the sides like a seed-fish; the boards were +bent, and the pedal pointed upwards like a foot in the act of walking; +the arms of the candlesticks looked like clenched fists. It was a +dreadful sight! + +"It's falling to pieces," screamed the bass, and spread out a fin, ready +to turn. + +And now the boards fell off, the box was open, and one could see what it +was like inside; and that was the prettiest sight of all. + +"It's a trap! Don't go too near!" said the eel-mother. + +"It's a hand-loom!" said the stickleback, who builds a nest for itself +and understands the art of weaving. + +"It's a gravel-sifter," said a red-eye, who lived below the lime-quarry. + +It may have been a gravel-sifter. But there were a great many fallals +and odds and ends which were not in the least like the sifter which they +use for riddling sand. There were little manichords which resembled toes +in white woollen stockings, and when they moved it was just as if a foot +with two hundred skeleton toes were walking; and it walked and walked +and yet never left the spot. + +It was a strange thing. But the game was up, for the skeleton no longer +touched the strings; it played on the water as if it were knocking at a +door with its fingers, asking whether it might come in. + +The game was up. A school of sticklebacks came and swam right through +the box, and when they trailed their spikes over the strings, the +strings sounded again; but they played in a new way, for now they were +tuned to another pitch. + +*** + +On a rosy summer evening soon afterwards two children, a boy and a girl, +were sitting on the landing-bridge. They were not thinking of anything +in particular, unless it was a tiny piece of mischief, when all at once +they heard soft music from the bottom of the sea, which startled them. + +"Do you hear it?" + +"Yes, what is it? It sounds like scales." + +"No, it's the song of the gnats." + +"No, it's a mermaid!" + +"There are no mermaids. The schoolmaster said so." + +"The schoolmaster doesn't know." + +"Oh! do listen!" + +They listened for a long time, and then they went away, home. + +Presently two newly arrived summer guests sat down on the bridge; he +looked into her eyes, which reflected the golden sunset and the green +shores. Then they heard the sounds of music; it sounded as if somebody +were playing on musical glasses, but in a strange new key, only heard in +the dreams of those who dream of giving a new message to the world. But +they never thought of looking for any outside source, they believed that +it was the song which their own hearts were singing. + +Next a couple of annual visitors came sauntering along; they knew the +trick and took a delight in saying in a loud voice: + +"It is the submerged piano of the master of the mine." + +But whenever there were only new arrivals present, who did not know +anything about it, they were puzzled and enjoyed the music, until some +of the older ones came and enlightened them. And then they enjoyed it no +longer. + +The musical box lay there all the summer. The sticklebacks taught their +art to the bass, who became much more expert. And the piano became a +regular fishing-ground for the summer guests, where they could always be +sure to catch bass; the pilots spread out their nets round about it, and +once a waiter fished there for red-eyes. But when his line with the old +bell weight had run out, and he tried to wind it up again, he heard a +run in X minor, and then the hook was caught. He pulled and pulled, and +in the end he brought up five fingers with wool at the fingertips, and +the bones cracked like the bones of a skeleton. Then he was frightened +and flung his catch back into the sea, although he knew quite well what +it was. + +In the dog days, when the water is warm and all the fish retire to the +greater depths to enjoy the coolness, the music ceased. But on a moonlit +night in August, the summer guests held a regatta. The master of the +mine and his wife were present. They sat in a white boat and were slowly +rowed about by their sons. And as their boat was gliding over the black +water, the surface of which was like silver and gold in the moonlight, +they heard a sound of music just below their boat. + +"Ha ha!" laughed the master of the mine, "listen to our old piano! Ha +ha!" + +But he was silent when he saw that his wife hung her head, in the way +pelicans do in pictures; it looked as if she wanted to bite her own neck +and hide her face. + +The old piano and its long history had awakened memories in her of the +first dining-room they furnished together, the first of their children +which had had music lessons, the boredom of the long evenings, only +to be chased away by the crashing volumes of sound which overcame the +dulness of everyday life, changed bad temper into cheerfulness, and +lent new beauty even to the old furniture .... But that is a story which +belongs elsewhere. + +When it was autumn and the winter wind began to blow, the pilchards +came in their thousands and swam through the musical box. It was like a +farewell concert, and nothing else, and the seagulls and stormy petrels +came in crowds to listen to it. And in the night the musical box was +carried out to sea; that was the end of the matter. + + + + +THE SLUGGARD + +Conductor Crossberg was fond of lying in bed in the morning, firstly, +because he had to conduct the orchestra in the evening, and secondly, +because he drank more than one glass of beer before he went home and to +bed. He had tried once or twice to get up early, but had found no sense +in it. He had called on a friend, but had found him asleep; he had +wanted to pay money into the bank, but had found it still closed; he +had gone to the library to borrow music, but it was not yet open; he had +wanted to use the electric trams, but they had not yet started running. +It was impossible to get a cab at this hour of the morning; he could not +even buy a pinch of his favourite snuff; there was nothing at all for +him to do. And so he had eventually formed the habit of staying in bed +until late; and after all, he had no one to please but himself. + +He loved the sun and flowers and children; but he could not live on the +sunny side of the street on account of his delicate instruments, which +were out of tune almost as soon as they were put into a sunny room. + +Therefore, on the 1st of April, he took rooms which faced north. He +was quite sure that there was no mistake about this, for he carried +a compass on his watch-chain, and he could find the Great Bear in the +evening sky. + +So far, so good; but then the spring came, and it was so warm that it +was really pleasant to live in rooms with a northern aspect. His bedroom +joined the sitting-room; he always kept his bedroom in pitch-black +darkness by letting down the Venetian blinds; there were no Venetian +blinds in the sitting-room, because they were not wanted there. + +And the early summer came and everything grew green. The conductor had +dined at the restaurant "Hazelmount," and had drunk a bottle of Burgundy +with his dinner, and therefore he slept long and soundly, especially as +the theatre was closed on that day. + +He slept well, but while he slept it grew so warm in the room that he +woke up two or three times, or, at any rate, he thought he did. Once +he fancied that his wall-paper was on fire, but that was probably the +effect of the Burgundy; another time he felt as if something hot had +touched his face, but that was certainly the Burgundy; and so he turned +over and fell asleep again. + +At half-past nine he got up, dressed, and went into the sitting-room to +refresh himself with a glass of milk which always stood ready for him in +the morning. + +It was anything but cool in the sitting-room this morning; it was +almost warm, too warm. And the cold milk was not cold; it was lukewarm, +unpleasantly lukewarm. + +The conductor was not a hot-tempered man, but he liked order and method +in everything. Therefore he rang for old Louisa, and since he made his +first fifty remonstrances always in a very mild tone, he spoke kindly +but firmly to her, as she put her head through the door. + +"Louisa," he said, "you have given me lukewarm milk." + +"Oh! no, sir," replied Louisa, "it was quite cold, it must have got warm +in standing." + +"Then you must have had a fire in the room; it's very warm here this +morning." + +No, Louisa had not had a fire; and she retired into the kitchen, very +much hurt. + +He forgave her for the milk. But a look round the sitting-room made him +feel very depressed. I must tell you that he had built a little private +altar in a corner, near the piano, which consisted of a small table +with two silver candlesticks, a large photograph of a young woman, and +a tall, gold-edged champagne glass. This glass--it was the glass he had +used on his wedding-day, and he was a widower now--always contained a +red rose in memory of and as an offering to her who once had been the +sunshine of his life. Whether it was summer or winter, there was always +a rose; and in the winter time it lasted a whole week, that is to say if +he trimmed the stem occasionally and put a little salt into the water. +Now, he had put a fresh rose into the glass only last night, and to-day +it was faded, shrivelled up, dead, with its head drooping. This was a +bad omen. He knew what sensitive creatures flowers are, and had noticed +that they thrive with some people and not with others. He remembered how +sometimes, in his wife's lifetime, her rose, which always stood on her +little work-table, had faded and died quite unexpectedly. And he had +also noticed that this always happened when _his sun_ was hiding behind +a cloud, which after a while would dissolve in large drops to the +accompaniment of a low rumbling. Roses must have peace and kind words; +they can't bear harsh voices. They love music, and sometimes he would +play to the roses and they opened their buds and smiled. + +Now Louisa was a hard woman, and often muttered and growled to herself +when she turned out the room. There were days when she was in a very bad +temper, so that the milk curdled in the kitchen, and the whole dinner +tasted of discord, which the conductor noticed at once; for he was +himself like a delicate instrument, whose soul responded to moods and +influences which other people did not feel. + +He concluded that Louisa had killed the rose; perhaps if she had scolded +the poor thing, or knocked the glass, or breathed on the flower angrily, +a treatment which it could not bear. Therefore he rang again; and when +Louisa put in her head, he said, not unkindly, but more firmly than +before: + +"What have you done to my rose, Louisa?" + +"Nothing, sir!" + +"Nothing? Do you think the flower died without a very good reason? You +can see for yourself that there is no water in the glass! You must have +poured it away!" + +As Louisa had done no such thing, she went into the kitchen and began to +cry, for it is disagreeable to be blamed when one is innocent. + +Conductor Crossberg, who could not bear to see people crying, said no +more, but in the evening he bought a new rose, one which had only just +been cut, and, of course, was not wired, for his wife had always had an +objection to wired flowers. + +And then he went to bed and fell asleep. And again he fancied in his +sleep that the wall-paper was on fire, and that his pillow was very hot; +but he went on sleeping. + +On the following morning, when he came into the sitting-room, to say his +morning prayers before the little altar--alas! there lay his rose, +all the pink petals scattered by the side of the stem. He was just +stretching out his hand to touch the bell, when he saw the photograph of +his beloved, half rolled up, lying by the side of the champagne glass. +Louisa could not have done that! + +"She, who was my all, my conscience and my muse," he thought in his +childlike mind, "she is dissatisfied and angry with me; what have I +done?" + +Well, when he put this question to his conscience, he found, as usual, +more than one little fault, and he resolved to eradicate his faults, +gradually, of course. + +Then he had the portrait framed and a glass shade put over the rose, +hoping that now things would be all right, but secretly fearing that +they would not. + +After that he went on a week's journey; he returned home late at night +and went straight to bed. He woke up once, imagining that the hanging +lamp was burning. + +When he entered the sitting-room late on the following morning, it +was downright hot there, and everything looked frightfully shabby. The +blinds were faded; the cover on the piano had lost its bright colours; +the bound volumes of music looked as if they were deformed; the oil in +the hanging-lame had evaporated and hung in a trembling drop under the +ornament, where the flies used to dance; the water in the water-bottle +was warm. + +But the saddest thing of all was that her portrait, too, was faded, as +faded as autumn leaves. He was very unhappy, and whenever he was very +unhappy he went to the piano, or took up his violin, as the case might +be.... + +This time he sat down at the piano, with a vague notion of playing the +sonata in E minor, Grieg's, of course, which had been her favourite, and +was the best and finest, in his opinion, after Beethoven's sonata in D +minor; not because E comes after D, but because it was so. + +But the piano was very refractory to-day. It was out of tune, and made +all sorts of difficulties, so that he began to believe that his eyes +and fingers were in a bad temper. But it was not their fault. The piano, +quite simply, was out of tune, although a very clever tuner had only +just tuned it. It was like a piano bewitched, enchanted. + +He seized his violin; he had to tune it, of course. But when he wanted +to tighten the E string, the screw refused to work. It had dried up; and +when the conductor tried to use force, the string snapped with a sharp +sound, and rolled itself up like a dried eel-skin. + +It was bewitched! + +But the fact that her photograph had faded was really the worst blow, +and therefore he threw a veil over the altar. + +In doing this, he threw a veil over all that was most beautiful in his +life; and he became depressed, began to mope, and stopped going out in +the evening. + +It would be Midsummer soon. The nights were shorter than the days, but +since the Venetian blinds kept his bedroom dark, the conductor did not +notice it. + +At last, one night--it was Midsummer night--he awoke, because the clock +in the sitting-room struck thirteen. There was something uncanny about +this, firstly, because thirteen is an unlucky number, and secondly, +because no well-behaved clock can strike thirteen. He did not fall +asleep again, but he lay in his bed, listening. There was a peculiar +ticking noise in the sitting-room, and then a loud bang, as if a +piece of furniture had cracked. Directly afterwards he heard stealthy +footsteps, and then the clock began to strike again; and it struck and +struck, fifty times--a hundred times. It really was uncanny! + +And now a luminous tuft shot into his bedroom and threw a figure on the +wall, a strange figure, something like a fylfot, and it came from the +sitting-room. There was a light, then, in the sitting-room? But who +had lit it? And there was a tinkling of glasses, just as if guests were +there; champagne glasses of cut-crystal; but not a word was uttered. +And now he heard more sounds, sounds of canvas being furled, or clothes +passed through a mangle, or something of that sort. + +The conductor felt compelled to get up and look, and he went, commending +his soul into the hands of the Almighty. + +Well, first of all he saw Louisa's print-dress disappearing through the +kitchen door; then he saw blinds, but blinds which had been pulled up; +he saw the dining-table covered with flowers, arranged in glasses; as +many flowers as there had been on his wedding-day when he had brought +his bride home. + +And behold! The sun, the sun shone right into his face, shone on blue +fjords and distant woods; it was the sun which had illuminated the +sitting-room and played all the little tricks. He blessed the sun which +had been up so early in the morning and made a game of the sluggard. And +he blessed the memory of her whom he called the sun of his life. It was +not a new name, but he could not think of a better one, and as it was, +it was good enough. + +And on his altar stood a rose, quite fresh, as fresh as _she_ had been +before the never-ending work had tired her. Tired her! Yes, she had not +been one of the strong ones; and life with its blows and knocks had been +too brutal for her! He had not forgotten how, after a day's cleaning or +ironing, she would throw herself on the sofa and say in a complaining +little voice, "I am so tired!" Poor little thing, this earth had not +been her home, she had only played once, on tour, as it were, and then +had gone far away. + +"She lacked sunshine," the doctor had said, for at that time they +couldn't afford sun, because rooms on the sunny side are so expensive. + +But now he had sun without having known it; he stood right in the +sunlight, but it was too late. Midsummer was past, and soon the sun +would disappear again, stay away for a year and then come back. Things +are very strange in this world! + + + + +THE PILOT'S TROUBLES + +The pilot cutter lay outside, beyond the last beacon fire on the +headland; the winter sun had set long ago and the sea ran high; it was +the real sea with real huge breakers. Suddenly the first mate signalled: +"Sailing ship to windward." + +Far out at sea, a long way off the harbour, a brig was visible; she +had backed her sails and hoisted the pilot's flag; she was asking to be +taken into port. + +"Look out!" shouted the master-pilot, who was standing at the helm. +"We'll have a job in this sea, but we must try and get hold of her in +tacking, and you, Victor, throw yourself into her rigging as soon as you +get the chance... bring the boat round! Now! Clear!" + +The cutter turned and steered a course to the brig which lay outside, +pitching. + +"Queer that she should have furled all her canvas. ... Can any one see +a light aboard? No! And no light on the masthead, either! Look out, +Victor!" Now the cutter was alongside; Victor stood waiting on the +gunwale, and the next time she rose on the crest of a big wave, he leapt +into the rigging of the brig, while the cutter sheered off, tacked, and +made for the harbour. + +Victor sat in the rigging, half-way between deck and cross-trees, trying +to recover his breath before descending on deck. As soon as he came +down he went to the helm, which was quite the right thing for him to +do. Imagine how shocked he was when he found it deserted! He shouted "Ho +there!" but received no reply. + +"They're all inside, drinking," he thought, peering through the cabin +windows. No, not a soul! He crossed over to the kitchen, examined the +quarterdeck,--not a living being anywhere. Then he realised that he +was on a deserted ship; he concluded that she had sprung a leak and was +sinking. + +He tried to discover the whereabouts of the cutter, but she had +disappeared in the darkness. + +It was quite impossible for him to make port. To set the sails, haul +in the brails and bowlines, and at the same time stand at the helm, was +more than any sailor could manage. + +There was nothing to bee done, then, but let the vessel drift, although +he was aware of the fact that she was drifting out to sea. + +It would not be true to say that he was pleased, but a pilot is prepared +for anything, and the thought that he might possibly meet a sailing +ship by and by, reassured him. But it was necessary to show a light and +signal. + +He made his way towards the kitchen, intending to look for matches and +a lantern. Although the sea was very rough, he noticed that the ship did +not move, a fact which astonished him very much. But when he came to +the mainmast, he was even more astonished to find himself walking on a +parqueted floor, partly covered by a strip of carpet of a small blue +and white checked pattern. He walked and walked, but still the carpet +stretched before him, and still he came no nearer to the kitchen. It was +certainly uncanny, but it was also amusing, for it was a new experience. + +He was a long way off the end of the carpet yet, when he found himself +at the entrance to a passage with brilliantly illuminated shops on +either side. On his right stood a weighing machine and an automatic +figure. Without a moment's hesitation he jumped on the little platform +of the weighing machine and slipped a penny in the slot. As he was quite +sure that he weighed eleven stone, he could not help smiling when the +indicator registered only one. Either the machine has gone wrong, he +thought, or I have been transported to some other planet, ten times +larger, or ten times smaller than the earth; he had been a pupil at the +School of Navigation, you see, and knew something of astronomy. + +He jumped off and turned to the automatic figure, eager to find out what +it contained; his penny had hardly dropped when a little flap opened +and a large, white envelope, sealed with a big, red seal, fell out. He +couldn't make out the letters on the seal, but that was neither here nor +there, as he did not know who his correspondent was. + +He tore open the envelope and read... first of all the signature, just +as everybody else does. The letter began... but I'll tell you that later +on; it's sufficient for you to know now that he read it three times and +then put it into his breast-pocket with a very thoughtful mien; a very +thoughtful mien. + +Then he penetrated into the heart of the passage, all the time keeping +carefully in the centre of the carpet. There were all sorts of shops, +but not a single human being, either before or behind the counters. When +he had walked a little way, he stopped before a big shop window, behind +which a great number of shells and snails were exhibited. As the door +stood open, he went in. The walls of the shop were lined with shelves +from floor to ceiling and filled with snails collected from all the +oceans of the world. Nobody was in the shop, but a ring of tobacco smoke +hung in the air, which looked as if somebody had only just blown it. +Victor, who was a bright lad, put his finger through it. "Hurrah!" he +laughed, "now I'm engaged to Miss Tobacco!" + +A queer sound, like the ticking of a clock, fell on his ear, but there +was no clock anywhere, and presently he discovered that the sound came +from a bunch of keys. One of the keys had apparently just been put +into the cash-box, and the other keys swung to and fro with the regular +movement of a pendulum. This went on for quite a little while. Then +there was silence once more, and when it was as still as still could be, +a low whistling sound, like the wind blowing through the rigging of a +ship, or steam escaping through a narrow tube, could be heard. The sound +was made by the snails; but as they were of different sizes, each one of +them whistled in a different key; it sounded like a whole orchestra of +whistlers. Victor, who was born on a Thursday, and therefore understood +the birds' language, pricked up his ears and tried to catch what they +were whistling. It was not long before he understood what they were +saying. + +"I have the prettiest name," said one of them, "for I am called Strombus +pespelicanus!" + +"I'm much the best looking," said the purple-snail, whose name was Murex +and something else quaint. + +"But I've the best voice," said the tiger-shell; it is called +tiger-shell because it looks like a panther. + +"Oh! tut, tut!" said the common garden-snail, "I'm more in demand than +any other snail in the world; you'll find me all over the flower-beds in +the summer, and in the winter I lie in the wood-shed in a cabbage tub. +They call me uninteresting, but they can't do without me." + +"What dreadful creatures they are," thought Victor, "they think of +nothing but blowing their own trumpets"; and to while away the time he +took up a book which lay on the counter. As he had learned to use his +eyes, he saw at a glance that it opened at page 240 and that chapter +51 began at the top of the left-hand side, and had for a motto a verse +written by Coleridge, the gist of which struck him like a flash of +lightning. With burning cheeks and bated breath he read... I'll tell +you what he read later on, but I may admit at once that it had nothing +whatever to do with snails. + +Victor liked the shop and sat down at a little distance from the +cash-box, the immediate vicinity of which is never without a certain +risk. He began to ponder over all the queer animals which went down to +the sea as he did; he was sure that they could not find it too warm +at the bottom of the sea and yet they perspired; and whenever they +perspired chalk, it immediately became a new house. They wriggled like +worms, some to the right and some to the left; it was clear that they +had to wriggle in some direction and, of course, they could not all turn +to the same side. + +All at once a voice came from the other side of the green curtain which +separated the shop from the back parlour. + +"Yes, we know all that," shouted the voice, "but what we don't know is +this: the cockle of the ear belongs to the species of the Helix, and +the little bones near the drum are exactly like the animal in Limnaeus +stagnalis, and that's printed in a book." + +Victor, who realised at once that the voice belonged to a +thought-reader, shouted back brutally, but without showing the least +surprise:-- + +"We know all that, but why we should have a Helix in our ears is as +unknown to the book as to the dealer in snails--" + +"I'm not a dealer in snails," bellowed the voice behind the curtain. + +"What are you, then?" Victor bellowed back. + +"I'm... a troll!" + +At the same moment the curtains were drawn aside a little, and a head +appeared in the opening of so terrifying an aspect, that anybody but +Victor would have taken to his heels. But he, who knew exactly how to +treat a troll, looked steadily at the glowing pipe-bowl; for that is +exactly what the troll looked like as he stood blowing rings through the +parted curtains. When the smoke rings had floated within his reach, he +caught them with his fingers and threw them back. + +"I see you can play quoits," snarled the troll. + +"A little bit," answered Victor. + +"And you aren't afraid?" + +"A sailor must never be afraid of anything; if he is, the girls won't +like him." + +And as he was tired of the snails, Victor seized the opportunity to +beat a retreat without appearing to run away. He left the shop, walking +backwards, for he knew that a man must never show his back to the enemy, +because his back is far more sensitive than ever his face could be. + +And on he went on the blue and white carpet. The passage was not a +straight one, but wound and curved so that it was impossible to see the +end of it; and still there were new shops, and still no people and no +shop proprietors. But Victor, taught by his experience, understood that +they were all in the back parlours. + +At last he came to a scent shop, which smelt of all the flowers of wood +and meadow; he thought of his sweetheart and decided to go in and buy +her a bottle of Eau-de-Cologne. + +No sooner thought than done. The shop was very much like the snail shop, +but the scent of the flowers was so overpowering that it made his head +ache, and he had to sit down on a chair. A strong smell of almonds +caused a buzzing in his cars, but left a pleasant taste in his mouth, +like cherry-wine. Victor, never at a loss, felt in his pocket for his +little brass box, that had a tiny mirror on the inside of the lid, and +put a piece of chewing tobacco in his mouth; this cleared his brain and +cured his headache. Then he rapped on the counter and shouted:-- + +"Hallo! Any one there?" + +There was no answer. "I'd better go into the back parlour," he thought, +"and do my shopping there." He took a little run, put his right hand on +the counter and cleared it at a bound. Then he pushed the curtains aside +and peeped into the room. A sight met his eyes which completely dazzled +him. An orange tree, laden with blossoms and fruit, stood on a long +table covered with a Persian rug, and its shining leaves looked like the +leaves of a camellia. There were rows of cut-crystal glasses filled +with all the most beautiful scented flowers of the whole world, such as +jasmine, tuberoses, violets, lilies of the valley, roses, and lavender. +On one end of the table, half hidden by the orange tree, he saw two +delicate white hands and a pair of slender wrists under turned-up +sleeves, busy with a small distilling apparatus, made of silver. He did +not see the lady's face, and she, too, did not appear to see him. But +when he noticed that her dress was green and yellow, he knew at once +that she was a sorceress, for the caterpillar of the hawk-moth is green +and yellow, and it, too, knows how to bewitch the eye. The lower end of +its body looks as if it were its head and has a horn like a unicorn, so +that it frightens away its enemies with its mock face, while it feeds in +peace with that part of its body which looks like its hind quarter. + +"I know that I'll have a bit of a tussle with her," thought Victor, "but +I'd better let her begin!" He was quite right, because if one wants to +make people talk, one has but to remain silent oneself. + +"Are you the gentleman who is looking for a summer resort?" asked the +lady, coming towards him. + +"That's me!" said Victor, merely in order to say something, for he had +never thought of looking for a summer resort in the winter time. + +The lady seemed embarrassed, but she was as beautiful as sin, and cast a +bewitching glance at the pilot. + +"It's no use trying to bewitch me, for I am engaged to a very nice +girl," he said, staring between her second and third finger in the +manner of a witch, when she wants to charm the judge. + +The lady was young and beautiful from the waist upwards, but below +the waist she seemed very old; it was just as if she had been patched +together of two pieces which didn't match. + +"Well, show me the summer resort," said the pilot. + +"If you please, sir," replied the lady, opening a door in the +background. + +They went out and at once found themselves in a wood, consisting +entirely of oak trees. + +"We'll only just have to cross the wood, and we'll be there," said the +lady, beckoning to the pilot to go on, for she did not want to show him +her back. + +"I shouldn't wonder if there were a bull somewhere about," said the +pilot, who had all his wits about him. + +"Surely you aren't afraid of a bull?" replied the lady. + +"We'll see," answered the pilot. + +They walked across stony hillocks, tree-roots, moors and fells, +clearings and deep recesses, but Victor could not help turning round +every now and then to see whether she was following him, for he could +not hear her footsteps. And even when he had turned round and had her +right before his eyes he had to look very hard, for her green and yellow +dress made her almost invisible. + +At last they came to an open space, and when Victor had reached the +centre of the clearing, there was the bull; it was just as if it had +stood there all the time waiting for him. It was jet black, with a white +star in the middle of its forehead, and the corners of its eyes were +blood-red. + +Escape was impossible; there was nothing for it but to fight. Victor +glanced at the ground and behold! there lay a stout cudgel, newly cut. +He seized it and took up his position. + +"You or I!" he shouted. "Come on! One--two--three!" The fight began. The +bull backed like a steam-boat, smoke came through its nostrils, it moved +its tail like a propeller, and then came on at full speed. + +The cudgel flashed through the air and with a sound like a shot hit the +bull right between the eyes. Victor sprang aside, and the bull dashed +past him. Then everything seemed to change, and Victor, terrified, saw +the monster make for the border of the wood, from whence his sweetheart, +in a light summer dress, emerged to meet him. + +"Climb up the tree, Anna," he shouted. "The bull's coming!" It was a cry +of anguish from the very bottom of his soul. + +And he ran after the monster and hit it on the slenderest part of +its hind-legs in the hope of breaking its shin-bone. With superhuman +strength he felled the giant. Anna was saved, and the pilot held her in +his arms. + +"Where shall we go?" he asked. "Home, of course?" + +It did not occur to him to ask her whence she had come, for reasons +which we shall learn hereafter. + +They walked along the footpath, hand in hand, happy at their unexpected +meeting. When they had gone a little way, Victor suddenly stood still. + +"Just wait a moment," he said. "I must go and have a look at the bull; +I'm sorry for it, poor brute!" + +The expression of Anna's face changed, and the corners of her eyes grew +bloodshot. "All right! I'll wait," she said, with a savage and malicious +glance at the pilot. + +Victor gazed at her sadly, for he knew that she had told him an untruth. +But he followed her. There was something extraordinary about her walk, +and all at once the whole of his left side grew as cold as ice. + +When they had proceeded a little further, Victor stopped again. + +"Give me your hand," he said. "No, the left one." He saw that she was +not wearing her engagement ring. + +"Where's your ring?" he asked. + +"I've lost it," she replied. + +"You are my Anna, and yet you are not," he exclaimed. "A stranger has +taken possession of you." + +As he said these words, she looked at him with a side-long glance, and +all at once he realised that her eyes were not human, but the blood-shot +eyes of a bull; and then he understood. + +"Begone, witch!" he cried, and breathed into her face. + +If you could only have seen what happened now! The would-be Anna was +immediately transformed, her face grew green and yellow like gall, and +she burst with rage; at the next moment a black rabbit jumped over the +bilberry bushes and disappeared in the wood. + +Victor stood alone in the perplexing, bewildering forest, but he was +not afraid. "I will go on," he thought, "and if I should meet the devil +himself, I will not be afraid; I shall say the Lord's Prayer, and that +will go a long way towards protecting me." + +He trudged on and presently he came to a cottage. He knocked; the door +was opened by an old woman; he inquired whether he could stay the night. +He could stay, if he liked, but the old dame had nothing to offer him +but a small attic, which was only so so. + +Victor did not mind what it was like, as long as it was a place where he +could sleep. + +When they were agreed about the price, he followed her upstairs to the +attic. A huge wasp's nest hung right over the bed, and the old dame +began to make excuses for harbouring such guests. + +"It doesn't matter in the least," interrupted the pilot, "wasps are like +human beings, quite inoffensive until you irritate them. Perhaps you +keep snakes, too?" + +"Well, there are some, of course." + +"I thought so; they like the warmth of the bed, so we shall get on. Are +they adders or vipers? I don't very much mind which, but on the whole I +prefer vipers." + +The old dame watched him breathlessly while he arranged his bed, and +in every way betrayed his firm resolution to spend the night in her +cottage. + +All at once an excited buzzing could be heard outside the closed window, +and a huge hornet bumped against the glass. + +"Let the poor thing come in," said the pilot, opening the window. + +"No, no, not that one, kill it!" yelled the old dame. + +"Why should I? Perhaps its young ones are in this room, and would +starve. Am I to lie here and listen to the screaming of hungry babies? +No, thank you! Come in, little wasp!" + +"It will sting you!" shrieked the old dame. + +"No, indeed it won't. It only stings the wicked." + +The window was open now. A big hornet, as large as a pigeon's egg, flew +in; buzzing like a bass string, it flew at once to the nest. And then it +was still. + +The old dame left the attic, and the pilot got between the sheets. + +When he came downstairs into the parlour on the following morning, the +old dame was not there. A black cat sat on the only chair and purred; +cats have been condemned to purr, because they are such lazy beasts, and +they must do something. + +"Get up, pussy," said the pilot, "and let me sit down." + +And he took the cat and put it on the hearth. But it was no ordinary +cat, for immediately sparks began to fly from its fur, and the chips +caught file. + +"If you can light a fire, you can make me some coffee," said the pilot. + +But the cat is so constituted that it never wants to do what it is told, +and so it began at once to swear and spit until the fire was out. + +In the meantime the pilot had heard somebody leaning a spade against the +wall of the cottage. He looked out of the window and saw the old dame +standing in a pit which she had dug in the garden. + +"I see you are digging a grave for me, old woman," he said. + +The old dame came in. When she saw Victor safe and sound, she was beside +herself with amazement; she confessed that up to now nobody had ever +left the attic alive, and that therefore she had dug his grave in +anticipation. + +She was a little short-sighted, but it seemed to her that the pilot was +wearing a strange handkerchief round his neck. + +"Ha ha! Have you ever seen such a handkerchief in all your life?" +laughed Victor, putting his hand up to his throat. + +Wound round his neck was a snake which had tied itself in front into a +knot with two bright yellow spots; the spots were its ears, and its eyes +shone like diamonds. + +"Show auntie your scarfpins, little pet," said the pilot, gently +scratching its head, and the snake opened its mouth and disclosed two +sharp, pointed teeth right in the middle of it. + +At the sight of them the old dame fell on her knees and said, "Now I see +that you have received my letter and understood its meaning. You are a +brave lad!" + +"So the letter I got out of the automatic machine was from you," said +the pilot, taking it from his breast pocket. "I shall have it framed +when I get home." + +Would you like to know what was written in the letter? Just these few +words in plain English, "Don't be bluffed," which might be translated, +"Fortune favours the Brave." + +*** + +"Yes, but how was it that the pilot could walk from the ship down the +passage?" asked Annie-Mary, when her mama had finished the story. "And +did he come back, or had he dreamed the whole story?" + +"I'll tell you another time, little Miss Curiosity," said her mama. + +"And then there was a verse in the book--" + +"What verse? Oh, I see... in the snail shop.... Well, I'm afraid I've +forgotten it. But you mustn't ask too many details, for it's only a +fairy tale, little girlie." + + + + + + +PHOTOGRAPHER AND PHILOSOPHER + +Once upon a time there was a photographer. He was a splendid +photographer; he did profiles and full-faces, three-quarter and +full-length portraits; he could develop and fix, tone and print them. He +was the deuce of a fellow! But he was always discontented, for he was a +philosopher, a great philosopher and a discoverer. His theory was that +the world was upside down. It was plainly proved by the plate in the +developer. Everything that was on the right side of the original, now +appeared on the left; everything that was dark, became light; light +became shade; blue turned into white, and silver buttons looked as dark +as iron. The world was upside down. + +He had a partner, quite an ordinary man, full of petty characteristics. +For instance, he smoked cigars all day long; he never shut a door; he +put his knife into his mouth, instead of using his fork; he wore his hat +in the room; he cleaned his nails in the studio, and in the evening he +drank three glasses of beer. + +He was full of faults! + +The philosopher, on the other hand, was perfect, and therefore he +nursed resentment against his imperfect brother; he would have liked to +dissolve the partnership, but he could not, because their business held +them together; and because they were bound to remain in partnership, the +resentment of the philosopher turned into an unreasonable hatred. It was +dreadful! + +When the spring came they decided to take a lodging in a summer resort, +and the partner was despatched to find one. He did find one. And one +Saturday they departed together on a steamer. + +The philosopher sat all day long on deck and drank punch. He was a very +stout man and suffered from several things; his liver was out of order, +and there was something wrong with his feet, perhaps rheumatism, or some +similar disease. When they arrived, they crossed the bridge and went +ashore. + +"Is this the place?" asked the philosopher. + +"A very little walk will take us there," answered the partner. + +They went along a footpath, full of roots, and the path ended abruptly +before a stile. They had to climb over it. Then the road became stony, +and the philosopher complained of his feet, but he forgot all about his +pains when they came to another stile. After that, all trace of the road +disappeared; they walked on the bare rock through shrubs and bilberry +bushes. + +Behind the third fence stood a bull, who chased the philosopher to the +fourth stile, where he arrived in a bath of perspiration, which opened +all the pores of his skin. When they had crossed the sixth stile, they +could see the house. The philosopher went in and immediately stepped on +to the verandah. + +"Why are there so many trees?" he asked. "They interrupt the view." + +"But they shelter the house from the strong sea-breezes," answered the +partner. + +"And the place looks like a churchyard; why, the house stands in the +centre of a pine-wood." + +"A very healthy spot," replied the partner. + +Then they wanted to go and bathe. But there was no proper bathing-place, +in the philosophical sense of the word. There was nothing but the stony +ground and mud. + +After they had bathed the philosopher felt thirsty, and wanted to drink +a glass of water at the spring. It was of a reddish-brown colour, and +had a peculiar, strong taste. It was no good. Nothing was any good. And +meat was unobtainable, there was nothing to be had but fish. + +The philosopher grew gloomy and sat down under a pumpkin to deplore +his fate. But there was no help for it. He had to stay, and his partner +returned to town to look after the business during his friend's absence. + +Six weeks passed and then the partner returned to his philosopher. + +He was met on the bridge by a slender youth with red cheeks and a +sunburnt neck. It was the philosopher, rejuvenated and full of high +spirits. + +He jumped over the six stiles and chased the bull. + +When they were sitting on the verandah, the partner said to him:-- + +"You are looking very well, what sort of a time have you had?" + +"Oh! an excellent time!" said the philosopher. "The fences have taken +off my fat; the stones have massaged my feet; the mud-baths have +cured me of my rheumatism; the plain food has cured my liver, and the +pine-trees my lungs; and, could you believe it, the brown spring-water +contained iron, just what I wanted!" + +"Well, you old philosopher," said the partner, "don't you understand +that from the negative you get a positive, where all the shade becomes +light again? If you would only take such a positive picture of me and +try and find out what faults I do _not_ possess, you would not dislike +me so much. Only think: I don't drink, and therefore I am able to manage +the business; I don't steal; I never talk evil of you behind your back; +I never complain; I never make white appear black; I am never rude to +the customers; I rise early in the morning; I clean my nails so as to +keep the developer clean; I leave my hat on so that no hairs shall fall +on the plates; I smoke so as to purify the air of poisonous gases; I +keep the door ajar so as not to make a noise in the studio; I drink beer +in the evening so as to escape the temptation of drinking whisky; and I +put the knife into my mouth because I am afraid of pricking myself with +the fork." + +"You really are a great philosopher," said the photographer, "henceforth +we will be friends! Then we shall get on in life!" + + + + +HALF A SHEET OF FOOLSCAP + +The last furniture van had left; the tenant, a young man with a crape +band round his hat, walked for the last time through the empty rooms +to make sure that nothing had been left behind. No, nothing had been +forgotten, nothing at all. He went out into the front hall, firmly +determined never to think again of all that had happened to him in these +rooms. And all at once his eyes fell on half a sheet of foolscap, which +somehow had got wedged between the wall and the telephone; the paper was +covered with writing, evidently the writing of more persons than one. +Some of the entries were written quite legibly with pen and ink, while +others were scribbled with a lead-pencil; here and there even a red +pencil had been used. It was a record of everything that had happened +to him in the short period of two years; all these things, which he had +made up his mind to forget, were noted down. It was a slice of a human +life on half a sheet of foolscap. + +He detached the paper; it was a piece of scribbling paper, yellow and +shining like the sun. He put it on the mantelpiece in the drawing-room +and glanced at it. Heading the list was a woman's name: "Alice," the +most beautiful name in the world, as it had seemed to him then, for it +was the name of his fiancee. Next to the name was a number, "15,11." +It looked like the number of a hymn, on the hymn-board. Underneath was +written "Bank." That was where his work lay, his sacred work to which he +owed bread, home, and wife--the foundations of life. But a pen had been +drawn through the word, for the Bank had failed, and although he had +eventually found another berth, it was not until after a short period of +anxiety and uneasiness. + +The next entries were: "Flower-shop and livery-stable." They related to +his betrothal, when he had plenty of money in his pockets. + +Then came "furniture dealer and paper-hanger "--they were furnishing +their house. "Forwarding agents"--they were moving into it. The +"Box-office of the Opera-house, No. 50,50"--they were newly married, and +went to the opera on Sunday evenings; the most enjoyable hours of their +lives were spent there, for they had to sit quite still, while their +souls met in the beauty and harmony of the fairyland on the other side +of the curtain. + +Then followed the name of a man, crossed out. He had been a friend of +his youth, a man who had risen high in the social scale, but who fell, +spoilt by success, fell irremediably, and had to leave the country. + +So unstable was fortune! + +Now, something new entered the lives of husband and wife. The next entry +was in a lady's hand: "Nurse." What nurse? Well, of course, the kindly +woman with the big cloak and the sympathetic face, who walked with a +soft footfall, and never went into the drawing-room, but walked straight +down the passage to the bedroom. + +Underneath her name was written "Dr. L." + +And now, for the first time, a relative appeared on the list: "Mama." +That was his mother-in-law, who had kept away discreetly, so as not to +disturb their newly found happiness, but was glad to come now, when she +was needed. + +A great number of entries in red and blue pencil followed: "Servants' +Registry Office"--the maid had left and a new one had to be engaged. +"The chemist's"--hm! life was growing dark. "The dairy"--milk had been +ordered--sterilised milk! + +"Butcher, grocer, etc." The affairs of the house were being conducted +by telephone; it argued that the mistress was not at her post. No, she +wasn't, for she was laid up. + +He could not read what followed, for it grew dark before his eyes; he +might have been a drowning man trying to see through salt water. And +yet, there it was written, plainly enough: "undertaker--a large coffin +and a small one." And the word "dust" was added in parenthesis. + +It was the last word of the whole record. It ended with "dust"! and that +is exactly what happens in life. + +He took the yellow paper, kissed it, folded it carefully, and put it in +his pocket. + +In two minutes he had lived again through two years of his life. + +But he was not bowed down as he left the house. On the contrary, he +carried his head high, like a happy and proud man, for he knew that the +best things life has to bestow had been given to him. And he pitied all +those from whom they are withheld. + + + + +CONQUERING HERO AND FOOL + +It was on the evening of a spring day in 1880 (a day which will never +be forgotten in Sweden, because it is the day of commemoration of +a national event), when an old couple, simple country people, were +standing on the headland at the entrance to the harbour of Stockholm, +looking at the dark watercourse under the dim stars, and watching a man +who was busy with a dark, undefinable object on the landing bridge. They +stood there for a long, long time, now gazing at the dark watercourse, +now looking at the brilliant lights of the town. + +At last a light appeared on the fjord, then another, then many lights. +The old man seized the woman's hand and pressed it, and in silence, +under the stars, they thanked God for having safely brought home their +son whom they had mourned as dead for a whole year. + +It is true, he had not been the leader of the expedition, but he had +been one of the crew. And now he was to dine with the long, receive +an order, and, in addition to a sum of money from the nation, which +Parliament had voted for the purpose, an appointment which would mean +bread and butter for the rest of his life. + +The lights grew in size as they approached; a small steamer was towing a +big dark craft, which, seen close by, looked as plain and simple as most +great things do. + +And now the man on the bridge, who had been very busy about the dark +object, struck a match. + +"Whatever is it?" said the old man, much puzzled. "It looks like huge +wax candles." + +They went nearer to examine it more closely. + +"It looks like a frame for drying fishes," said the old woman, who had +been born on the coast. + +Ratsh! It-sh! Si-si-si-si! it said, and the old people were instantly +surrounded by fire and flames. + +Great fiery globes rose up to the skies and, bursting, lit up the night +with a shower of stars; an astronomer, observing the heavens with a +telescope, might have come to the conclusion that new stars had been +born. And he would not have been altogether wrong, for in the year +1880 new thoughts were kindled in new hearts, and new light and new +discoveries vouchsafed to mankind. Doubtless, there were weeds, too, +growing up together with the splendid wheat; but weeds have their uses, +also; shade and moisture depend on their presence, and they will be +separated from the wheat at harvest time. But there must be weeds, they +are as inseparable from wheat as chaff is from corn. + +What had puzzled the old couple, however, was a rocket frame, and when +all the smoke had cleared away--for there is no fire without smoke--not +a trace of all the magnificence was left. + +"It would have been jolly to have been in town with them to-night," said +the old woman. + +"Oh, no!" replied the man. "We should have been in the way, poor people +like we ought never to push themselves to the front. And there's plenty +of time to-morrow for seeing the boy, after he has left his sweetheart, +who is dearer to him than we are." + +It was a very sensible speech for the old man to make; but who in the +world is to have sense, if old people have not? + +And then they continued their way to the town. + +*** + +Now, let us see what happened to the son. + +He was the leadsman, that is to say, it was his business to sound the +depths of the sea; he had plumbed the profound abysses of the ocean, +calculated the elevation of the land and the apparent motion of the sky; +he knew the exact time by looking at the sun, and he could tell from +the stars how far they had travelled. He was a man of importance; he +believed that he held heaven and earth in his hand, measured time and +regulated the clock of eternity. And after he had been the king's guest +and received an order to wear on his breast, he fancied that he was made +of finer stuff than most men; he was not exactly haughty when he met his +poor parents and his sweetheart, but, although they said nothing, they +felt that he thought himself their superior. Possibly he was a little +stiff, he was built that way. + +Well, the official ceremonies were over, but the students also had +decided to pay homage to the heroes, who had returned home after a +prolonged absence. And they went to the capital in full force. + +Students are queer people, who read books and study under Dr. Know-all; +consequently they imagine that they know more than other people. They +are also young, and therefore they are thoughtless and cruel. + +The respectful and sensible speeches which the old professors had been +making all the afternoon in honour of the explorers had come to an end, +and the procession of the students had started. + +The leadsman and his sweetheart were sitting on a balcony in the company +of the other great men. The ringing of the church bells and the booming +of the guns mingled with the sound of the bugles and the rolling of +the drums; flags were waving and fluttering in the breeze. And then the +procession marched by. + +It was headed by a ship, with sailors and everything else belonging to +it; next walruses came and polar bears, and all the rest of it; then +students in disguise, representing the heroes; the Great Man himself was +represented in his fur coat and goggles. It wasn't quite respectful, of +course; it wasn't a very great honour to be impersonated in this way; +but there it was! It was well meant, no doubt. And gradually every +member of the expedition passed by, one after the other, all represented +by the students. + +Last of all came the leadsman. It was true, nobody could ever have +dreamt of calling him handsome, but there is no need for a man to be +handsome, as long as he is an able leadsman, or anything else able. +The students had chosen a hideous old grumbler to impersonate him. +That alone would not have mattered; but nature had made one of his arms +shorter than the other, and his representative had made a feature of +this defect. And that was too bad; for a defect is something for which +one ought not to be blamed. + +But when the fool who played the leadsman approached the balcony, he +said a few words with a provincial accent, intended to cast ridicule on +the leadsman, who was born in one of the provinces. It was a silly thing +to do, for every man speaks the dialect which his mother has taught him; +and it is nothing at all to be ashamed of. + +Everybody laughed, more from politeness than anything else, for the +entertainment was gratuitous, but the girl was hurt, for she hated to +see her future husband laughed at. The leadsman frowned and grew silent. +He no longer enjoyed the festivities. But he carefully hid his real +feelings, for otherwise he would have been laughed at for a fool +unable to appreciate a joke. But still worse things happened, for his +impersonator danced and cut all sorts of ridiculous antics, in the +endeavour to act the leadsman's name in dumb charade; first his surname, +which he had inherited from his father, and then his Christian name, +which his mother had chosen for him at his baptism. These names were +sacred to him, and although there may have been a little boastful sound +about them, he had always scorned to change them. + +He wanted to rise from his chair and leave, but his sweetheart caught +hold of his hand, and he stayed where he was. + +When, the procession was over and everybody who had been sitting on +the balcony had risen, the great man laid a friendly hand on the girl's +shoulder, and said, with his kindly smile:-- + +"They have a strange way here of celebrating their heroes, one mustn't +mind it!" + +In the evening there was a garden party and the leadsman was present, +but his pleasure was gone; he had been laughed at, and he had grown +small in his own estimation, smaller than the fool, who had made quite a +hit as a jester. Therefore he was despondent, felt uneasy at the thought +of the future and doubtful of his own capability. And wherever he went +he met the fool who was caricaturing him. He saw his faults enlarged, +especially his pride and his boastfulness; all his secret thoughts and +weaknesses were made public. + +For three painful hours he examined the account book of his conscience; +what no man had dared to tell him before, the fool had told him. Perfect +knowledge of oneself is a splendid thing, Socrates calls it the highest +of all goods. Towards the end of the evening the leadsman had conquered +himself, admitted his faults, and resolved to turn over a new leaf. + +As he was passing a group of people he heard a voice behind a hedge +saying:-- + +"It's extraordinary, how the leadsman has improved. He's really quite a +delightful fellow!" + +These words did him good; but what pleased him more than anything else +were a few whispered words from his sweetheart. + +"You are so nice to-night," she said, "that you look quite handsome." + +He handsome? It must have been a miracle then, and miracles don't happen +nowadays. Yet he had to believe in a miracle, for he knew himself to be +a very plain man. + +Finally the Great Man touched his glass with his knife, and immediately +there was silence, for every body wanted to hear what he had to say. + +"When a Roman conqueror was granted a triumphal procession," he began, +"a slave always stood behind him in the chariot and incessantly called +out, 'Remember that you are but a man!' while senate and people paid him +homage. And at the side of the triumphal car, which was drawn by four +horses, walked a fool, whose business it was to dim the splendour of +his triumph by shouting insults, and casting suspicion on the hero's +character by singing libellous songs. This was a good old custom, for +there is nothing so fatal to a man than to believe that he is a god, and +there is nothing the gods dislike so much as the pride of men. My dear +young friends! The success which we, who have just returned home, have +achieved, has perhaps been overrated, our triumph went to our heads, and +therefore it was good for us to watch your antics to-day! I don't envy +the jester his part--far from it; but I thank you for the somewhat +strange homage which you have done us. It has taught me that I have +still a good deal to learn, and whenever my head is in danger of being +turned by flattery, it will remind me that I am nothing but an ordinary +man!" + +"Hear! Hear!" exclaimed the leadsman, and the festivities continued, +undisturbed even by the fool, who had felt a little ashamed of himself +and had quietly withdrawn from the scene. + +So much for the Great Man and the leadsman. Now let us see what happened +to the fool. + +As he was standing close to the table during the Great Man's speech, he +received a glance from the leadsman, which, like a small fiery arrow, +was capable of setting a fortress aflame. And as he went out into the +night, he felt beside himself, like a man who is clothed in sheets of +fire. He was not a nice man. True, fools and jailers are human beings, +like the rest of us, but they are not the very nicest specimen. Like +everybody else he had many faults and weaknesses, but he knew how +to cloak them. Now something extraordinary happened. Through having +mimicked the leadsman all day long, and also, perhaps, owing to all +the drink he had consumed, he had become so much the part which he had +played that he was unable to shake it off; and since he had brought +into prominence the faults and weaknesses of the leadsman, he had, as it +were, acquired them, and that flash from the leadsman's eye had rammed +them down to the very bottom of his soul, just as a ramrod pushes the +powder into the barrel of a gun. He was charged with the leadsman, so to +speak, and therefore, as he stepped out into the street he at once began +to shout and boast. But this time luck was against him. A policeman +ordered him to be quiet. The fool said something funny, imitating the +leadsman's provincial accent. But the policeman, who happened to be a +native of the same province, was annoyed and wanted to arrest the fool. +Now it is just as difficult for a fool to take a thing seriously as it +is for a policeman to understand a joke; therefore the fool resisted +and created such a disturbance that the policeman struck him with his +truncheon. + +He received a sound beating, and then the policeman let him go. + +You would think that he had had enough trouble now--far from it! + +The chastisement which he had received had only embittered him, and he +went on the warpath, like a red Indian, to see on whom he might avenge +his wrongs. + +Accident, or some other power, guided his footsteps to a locality mainly +frequented by peasants and labourers. He entered a brewery and found a +number of millers and farmer's labourers sitting round a table, drinking +the health of the explorers. When they saw the fool they took him for +the leadsman, and were highly delighted when he condescended to take a +glass in their company. + +Now the demon of pride entered into the soul of the fool. He boasted +of his great achievements; he told them that it was he who had led the +expedition, for would they not have foundered if he had not sounded the +depth of the sea? Would they ever have returned home if he had not read +the stars? + +Smack! an egg hit him between the eyebrows. + +"Leadsman, you're a braggart!" said the miller. "We've known that for a +long time; we knew it when you wrote to the paper saying the Great Man +was another Humboldt!" + +Now another of the leadsman's weaknesses gained the upper hand. + +"The Great Man is a humbug!" he exclaimed, which was not true. + +This was too much for the assembly. They rose from their seats like one +man, seized the fool, and with a leather strap bound him to a sack of +flour. They covered him with flour until he was white from top to toe, +and blackened his face with the wick from one of the lanterns. The +millers' apprentice sewed him to the sack; they lifted him, sack and +lantern, on to the cart, and amid shouting and laughter proceeded to the +market-place. + +There he was exhibited to the passers-by, and everybody laughed at him. + +When they let him go at last, he went and sat on some stone stairs and +cried. The big fellow sobbed like a little child; one might almost have +felt sorry for him. + + + + + +WHAT THE TREE-SWALLOW SANG IN THE BUCKTHORN TREE + +If you are standing at the harbour where all the steamers call, and look +out towards the sea, you will see a mountain on your left, covered with +green trees, and behind the trees a large house built in the shape of a +spider. For in the centre there is a round building from which radiate +eight wings, that look very much like the eight legs on the round body +of a spider. The people who enter the house do not leave it again at +will, and some of them stay there for the rest of their life, for the +house is a prison. + +In the days of King Oscar I, the mountain was not green. On the +contrary, it was grey and cold, for neither moss nor heart's-ease would +grow there, although these plants generally thrive on the bare rock. +There was nothing but grey stone and grey people, who looked as if they +had been turned into stone, and who quarried stone, broke stone, and +carried stone. And among these people there was one who looked stonier +than all the others. + +He was still a youth when, in the reign of King Oscar I., he was shut up +in this prison because he had killed a man. + +He was a prisoner for life, and sewn on his grey prison garb was a large +black "L." + +He was always on the mountain, in winter days and summer time, breaking +stones. In the winter he had only the empty and deserted harbour to +look at; the semicircular bridge with its poles had the appearance of a +yawning row of teeth, and he could see the wood-shed, the riding-school, +and the two gigantic, denuded lime trees. Sometimes an ice-yacht +would sail past the islet; sometimes a few boys would pass on skates; +otherwise it was quiet and forsaken. + +In the summer time it was much jollier. For then the harbour was full of +smart boats, newly painted and decorated with flags. And the lime trees, +in the shade of which he had sat when he was a child, waiting for his +father, who was an engineer on one of the finest boats, were green. + +It was many years now since he had heard the rustling of the breeze +in the trees, for nothing grew on his cliff, and the only thing in the +world he longed for was to hear once again the whispering of the wind in +the branches of the lime trees at Knightsholm. + +Sometimes, on a summer's day, a steamer would pass the islet; then he +heard the plashing of the waves, or, perhaps, snatches of music; and he +saw bright faces which grew dark as soon as their eyes fell on the grey +stone men on the mountain. + +And then he cursed heaven and earth, his fate and the cruelty of men. +He cursed, year in, year out. And he and his companions tormented and +cursed each other day and night; for crime isolates, but misfortune +draws men together. + +In the beginning his fate was unnecessarily cruel, for the keepers +ill-treated the prisoners, mercilessly and at their pleasure. + +But one day there was a change; the food was better, the treatment was +less harsh, and every prisoner was given a cell of his own to sleep in. +The king himself had loosened the chains of the prisoners a little; but +since hopelessness had petrified the hearts of these unfortunate men, +they were unable to feel anything like gratitude, and so they continued +to curse; and now they came to the conclusion that it was more pleasant +to sleep together in one room, for then they could talk all night. And +they continued to complain of the food, the clothes, and the treatment, +just as before. + +One fine day all the bells of the town were ringing, and those of +Knightsholm rang louder than any of the others. King Oscar was dead, and +the prisoners had a holiday. Since they could talk to one another now, +they talked of murdering the guards and escaping from prison; and they +also talked of the dead king, and they spoke evil of him. + +"If he had been a just man, he would have set us free," said one of the +prisoners. + +"Or else he would have imprisoned all the criminals who are at large." + +"Then he himself would have had to be Governor of the Prison, for the +whole nation are criminals." + +It is the way of prisoners to regard all men as criminals, and to +maintain that they themselves were only caught because they were +unlucky. + +But it was a hot summer's day, and the stone man walked along the shore, +listening to the tolling of the bells for Oscar the king. He raised the +stones and looked for tadpoles and sticklebacks, but could find none; +not a fish was visible in the water, and consequently there was not a +sign of a sea-gull or a tern. Then he felt that a curse rested on the +mountain, a curse so strong that it kept even the fishes and the birds +away. He fell to considering the life he was leading. He had lost his +name, both Christian and surname, and was no more now than No. 65, a +name written in figures, instead of in letters. He was no longer obliged +to pay taxes. He had forgotten his age. He had ceased to be a man, +ceased to be a living being, but neither was he dead. He was nothing but +something grey moving on the mountain and being terribly scorched by the +sun. It burned on his prison garb and on his head with the close-cropped +hair, which in days long passed had been curly, and was combed with +a tooth-comb every Saturday by his mother's gentle hand. He was not +allowed to wear a cap to-day, because it would have facilitated an +attempt at escape. And as the sun scorched his head, he remembered the +story of the prophet Jonah, to whom the Lord gave a gourd so that he +might sit in its shade. + +"A nice gift, that!" he sneered, for he did not believe in anything +good; in fact, he did not believe in anything at all. + +All at once he saw a huge birch branch tossed about in the surf. It was +quite green and fresh and had a white stem; possibly it had fallen off a +pleasure-boat. He dragged it ashore, shook the water off and carried it +to a gully where he put it up, wedged firmly between three stones. Then +he sat down and listened to the wind rustling through its leaves, which +smelt of the finest resin. + +When he had sat for a little while in the shade of the birch he fell +asleep. + +And he dreamed a dream. + +The whole mountain was a green wood with lovely trees and odorous +flowers. Birds were singing, bees and humble-bees buzzing, and +butterflies fluttering from flower to flower. But all by itself and a +little aside stood a tree which he did not know; it was more beautiful +than all the rest; it had several stems, like a shrub, and the branches +looked like lacework. And on one of its branches, half hidden by its +foliage, sat a little black-and-white bird which looked like a swallow, +but wasn't one. + +In his dream he could interpret the language of the birds, and therefore +he understood to some extent what the bird was singing. And it sang: + +Mud, mud, mud, mud here! We'll throw, throw, throw here! In mud, mud, +mud you died, From mud, mud, mud you'll rise. + +It sang of mud, death, and resurrection; that much he could make out. + +But that was not all. He was standing alone on the cliff in the +scorching heat of the sun. All his fellows-in-misfortune had forsaken +him and threatened his life, because he had refused to be a party to +their setting the prison on fire. They followed him in a crowd, threw +stones at him and chased him up the mountain as far as he could go. + +And finally he was stopped by a stone wall. + +There was no possibility of climbing over it, and in his despair he +resolved to kill himself by dashing his head against the stones. He +rushed down the mountain, and behold! a gate was opened at the same +moment--a green garden gate... and... he woke up. + +When he thought of his life and realised that the green wood was nothing +but the branch of a birch tree, he grew very discontented in his heart. + +"If at least it had been a lime tree," he grumbled. And as he listened +he found that it was the birch which had sung so loudly; it sounded as +if some one were sifting sand or gravel, and again he thought of the +lime trees, which make the soft velvety sounds that touch the heart. + +On the following day his birch was faded and gave little shade. + +On the day after that the foliage was as dry as paper and rattled like +teeth. And finally there was nothing left but a huge birch rod, which +reminded him of his childhood. + +He remembered the gourd of the prophet Jonah, and he cursed when the sun +scorched his head. + +*** + +A new king had come to the throne, and he brought fresh life into the +government of the country. The town was to have a new watercourse, and +therefore all the prisoners were commanded to dredge. + +It was for the first time after many years that he was allowed to leave +his cliff. He was in the boat, swimming on the water, and saw much +in his native town that was new to him; he saw the railway and the +locomotive. And they began dredging just below the railway station. + +And gradually they brought up all the corruption which lay buried at +the bottom of the sea. Drowned cats, old shoes, decomposed fat from the +candle factory, the refuse from the dye works called "The Blue Hand," +tanners' bark from the tannery, and all the human misery which the +laundresses had batted off the clothes for the last hundred years. +And there was such a terrible smell of sulphur and ammonia that only a +prisoner could be expected to bear it. + +When the boat was full, the prisoners wondered what was going to be +done with their cargo of dirt? The riddle was solved when the overseer +steered for their own cliff. + +All the mud was unloaded there and thrown on the mountain, and soon +the air was filled with the foulest of smells. They waded ankle-deep in +filth, and their clothes, hands, and faces were covered with it. + +"This is like the infernal regions!" said the prisoners. + +They dredged and unloaded on the cliff for several years, and ultimately +the cliff disappeared altogether. + +And the white snow fell winter after winter on all the corruption and +threw a pure white cover over it. + +And when the spring came once again and all the snow had melted, the +evil smell had disappeared, and the mud looked like mould. There was no +more dredging after this spring, and our stone man was sent to work at +the forge and never came near the cliff. Only once, in the autumn, he +went there secretly, and then he saw something wonderful. + +The ground was covered with green plants. Ugly sappy plants, it was +true, mostly bur-marigolds, that look like a nettle with brown flowers, +which is ugly because flowers should be white, yellow, blue or red. And +there were true nettles with green blossoms, and burs, sorrel, thistles, +and notch-weed; all the ugliest, burning, stinging, evil-smelling +plants, which nobody likes, and which grow on dust-heaps, waste land, +and mud. + +"We cleaned the bottom of the sea, and now we have all the dirt here; +this is all the thanks we get!" said the prisoner. + +Then he was transferred to another cliff, where a fort was to be built, +and again he worked in stone; stone, stone, stone! + +Then he lost one of his eyes, and sometimes he was flogged. And he +remained a very long time there, so long that the new king died and was +followed by his successor. On coronation day one of the prisoners was +to be released. And it was to be the one who had behaved best during all +the time and had arrived at a clear understanding that he had sinned. +And that was he! But the other prisoners considered that it would be a +wrong towards them, for in their circles a man who repents is considered +a fool, "because he has done what he couldn't help doing." + +And so the years passed. Our stone man had grown very old, and because +he was now unable to do hard work, he was sent back to his cliff and set +to sew sacks. + +One day the chaplain on his round paused before the stone man, who sat +and sewed. + +"Well," said the clergyman, "and are you never to leave this cliff?" + +"How would that be possible?" replied the stone man. + +"You will go as soon as you come to see that you did wrong." + +"If ever I find a human being who does not only do right, but more than +is right, I will believe that I did wrong! But I don't believe that +there is such a being." + +"To do more than that which is right is to have compassion. May it +please God that you will soon come to know it!" + +One day the stone man was sent to repair the road on the cliff, which he +had not seen for, perhaps, twenty years. + +It was again a warm summer's day, and from the passing steamers, bright +and beautiful as butterflies, came the sounds of music and gay laughter. + +When he arrived at the headland he found that the cliff had disappeared +under a lovely green wood, whose millions of leaves glittered and +sparkled in the breeze like small waves. There were tall, white birch +trees and trembling aspens, and ash trees grew on the shore. + +Everything was just as it had been in his dream. At the foot of the +trees tall grasses nodded, butterflies played in the sunshine, and +humble-bees buzzed from flower to flower. The birds were singing, but he +could not understand what they said, and therefore he knew that it was +not a dream. + +The cursed mountain had been transformed into a mountain of bliss, and +he could not help thinking of the prophet and the gourd. + +"This is mercy and compassion," whispered a voice in his heart, or +perhaps it was a warning. + +And when a steamer passed, the faces of the passengers did not grow +gloomy, but brightened at the sight of the beautiful scenery; he even +fancied that he saw some one wave a handkerchief, as people on a steamer +do when they pass a summer resort. + +He walked along a path beneath waving trees. It is true, there was not +one lime tree; but he did not dare to wish for one, for fear the birches +might turn into rods. He had learnt that much. + +As he walked through a leafy avenue, he saw in the distance a white wall +with a green gate. And somebody was playing on an instrument which was +not an organ, for the movement was much jollier and livelier. Above the +wall the pretty roof of a villa was visible, and a yellow and blue flag +fluttered in the wind. + +And he saw a gaily coloured ball rise and fall on the other side of the +wall; he heard the chattering of children's voices, and the clinking of +plates and glasses told him that a table was being laid. + +He went and looked through the gate. The syringa was in full flower, and +the table stood under the flowering shrubs; children were running about, +the piano was being played and somebody sang a song. + +"This is Paradise," said the voice within him. + +The old man stood a long time and watched, so long that in the end he +broke down, overcome by fatigue, hunger, and thirst, and all the misery +of life. + +Then the gate was opened and a little girl in a white dress came out. +She carried a silver tray in her hand, and on the tray stood a glass +filled with wine, the reddest wine which the old man had ever seen. And +the child went up to the old man and said: + +"Come now, daddy, you must drink this!" + +The old man took the glass and drank. It was the rich man's wine, which +had grown a long way off in the sunny South; and it tasted like the +sweetness of a good life when it is at its very best. + +"This is compassion," said his own old broken voice. "But you, child, in +your ignorance, you wouldn't have brought me this wine if you had known +who I am. Do you know what I am?" + +"Yes, you are a prisoner, I know that," replied the little girl. + +When the old stone man went back, he was no longer a man of stone, for +something in him had begun to quicken. + +And as he passed a steep incline, he saw a tree with many trunks, which +looked like a shrub. It was more beautiful than the others; it was a +buckthorn tree, but the old man did not know it. A restless little bird, +black and white like a swallow, fluttered from branch to branch. The +peasants call it tree-swallow, but its name is something else. And it +sat in the foliage and sang a sweet sad song: + +In mud, in mud, in mud you died, From mud, from mud, from mud you rose. + +It was exactly as it had been in his dream. And now the old man +understood what the tree-swallow meant. + + + + + +THE MYSTERY OF THE TOBACCO SHED + +Listen to the story of a young opera-singer who was so beautiful that +the people in the street turned round to stare at her when she passed. +And she was not only very beautiful, but she had a better voice than +most singers. + +The conductor of the orchestra, who was also a composer, came and laid +his heart and all his possessions at her feet. She took his possessions, +but left his heart lying in the dust. + +Now she was famous, more famous than any other singer; she drove through +the streets in her elegant victoria, and nodded to her portrait, which +greeted her from all the stationers' and booksellers' shop windows. + +And as her fame grew, her picture appeared on post-cards, soap and cigar +boxes. Finally her portrait was hung up in the foyer of the theatre, +amongst all the dead immortals; and as a result her head began to swell. + +One day she was standing on a pier, the sea was very rough and there +was a strong current. The conductor, of course, stood by her side, and +a great many young men were present, paying her court. The beauty was +playing with a rose; all the cavaliers coveted the flower, but she said +that it should become the property of him who knew how to earn it, +and she flung it far out into the sea. The cavaliers looked at it +with longing glances, but the conductor jumped off the pier without a +moment's hesitation, swam like a sea-gull on the crests of the waves and +soon held the flower between his lips. + +The cavaliers cheered, and the swimmer could read the promise of love in +his lady's eyes. But when he struck out for the shore, he found that +he could not move from the spot. He had been caught in the current. The +singer on the pier did not realise his danger, but merely thought he +was fooling, and therefore she laughed. But the conductor, who saw death +staring him in the face, misunderstood her laughter; a bitter pang shot +through his heart, and then his love for her was dead. + +However, he came ashore at last, with bleeding hands, for he had cut +them at the pier in many places. + +"I will marry you," said the beauty. + +"No, thank you," replied the conductor; turned, and walked away. + +This was an offence for which she swore that she would be revenged. + +Only the people connected with the theatre, who understand these things, +know how it happened that the conductor lost his post. He had been +firmly established, and it took two years to get rid of him. + +But he was got rid of; she watched the downfall of her benefactor and +triumphed, and her head swelled still more, in fact it swelled so much +that everybody noticed it. The public, who realised that the heart +underneath the beautiful form was wicked, ceased to be touched by her +singing, and no longer believed in her smiles and tears. + +She soon became aware of it, and it embittered her. But she continued +ruling at the theatre, suppressed all young talents, and used her +influence with the press to ruin their careers. + +She lost the love and respect of her audiences, but she did not +mind that as long as she remained in power; and as she was wealthy, +influential, and contented, she throve and prospered. + +Now, when people are prosperous, they do not lose flesh; on the +contrary, they are inclined to grow stout; and she really began to grow +corpulent. It came so gradually that she had no idea of it until it was +too late. Bang! The downhill journey is ever a fast journey, and in +her case it was accomplished with startling rapidity. She tried every +remedy--in vain! She kept the best table in the whole town, but she +starved herself, and the more she starved, the stouter she grew. + +One more year, and she was no longer a great star, and her pay was +reduced. Two more years and she was half forgotten, and her place was +filled by others. After the third year she was not re-engaged, and she +went and rented an attic. + +"She is suffering from an unnatural corpulency," said the stage-manager +to the prompter. + +"It's not corpulency at all," replied the prompter, "she's just puffed +up with pride." + +*** + +Now she lived in the attic and looked out on a large plantation. In +the middle of this plantation stood a tobacco shed, which pleased her, +because it had no windows behind which curious people could sit and +stare at her. Sparrows had built their nests under the eaves, but the +shed was no longer used for drying or storing tobacco, which was not, +now, grown on the plantation. + +There she lived during the summer, looking at the shed and wondering +what purpose it could possibly serve, for the doors were locked with +large padlocks, padlocks, and nobody ever went in or out. + +She knew that it contained secrets, and what these secrets were, she was +to learn sooner than she expected. + +A few little shreds of her great reputation, to which she clung +desperately, and which helped her to bear her life, were still left: the +memory of her best parts, Carmen and Aida, for which no successor had +yet been found; the public still remembered her impersonation of these +parts, which had been beyond praise. + +Very well, August came; the street lamps were again lighted in the +evenings, and the theatres were reopened. + +The singer sat at her window and looked at the tobacco shed, which +had been painted a bright red, and, moreover, had just received a new +red-tiled roof. + +A man walked across the potato field; he carried a large rusty key, with +which he opened the shed and went in. + +Then two other men arrived; two men whom she thought she had seen +before; and they, too, disappeared in the shed. + +It began to be interesting. + +After a while the three men reappeared, carrying large, strange objects, +which looked like the bottom of a bed or a big screen. + +When they had passed the gate, they turned the screens round and leaned +them against the wall; one of them represented a badly painted tiled +stove, another the door of a country cottage, perhaps a forester's +cottage. Others a wood, a window, and a library. + +She understood. It was the scenery of a play. And after a while she +recognised the rose tree from Faust. + +The shed was used by the theatre for storing scenes and stage +properties; she herself had more than once stood by the side of the rose +tree, singing "Gentle flowers in the dew." + +The thought that they were going to play Faust wrung her heart, but she +had one little comfort: she had never sung the principal part in it, for +the principal part is Margaret's. + +"I don't mind Faust; but I shall die if they play Carmen or Aida." + +And she sat and watched the change in the repertoire. She knew a +fortnight before the papers what was going to be played next. It was +amusing in a way. She knew when the Freischuetz was going to be played, +for she saw the wolves' den being brought out; she knew when they were +going to put on the Flying Dutchman, for the ship and the sea came out +of the shed; and Tannhaeuser, and Lohengrin, and many others. + +But the inevitable day dawned--for the inevitable must happen. The men +had again gone into the shed (she remembered that the name of one of +them was Lindquist, and that it was his business to look after the +pulleys), and presently reappeared with a Spanish market-place. The +scene was not standing straight up, so that she could not see at once +what it was, but one of the men turned it slowly over, and when he stood +it up on its side she could see the back, which is always very ugly. And +one after the other, slowly, as if they warded to prolong the torture, +huge, black letters appeared: CARMEN. It was Carmen! + +"I shall die," said the singer. + +But she did not die, not even when they played Aida. But her name was +blotted out from the memory of the public, her picture disappeared from +the stationers' windows, and from the post-cards; finally her portrait +was removed from the foyer of the theatre by an unknown hand. + +She could not understand how men could forget so quickly. It was quite +inexplicable! But she mourned for herself as if she were mourning a +friend who had died; and wasn't it true, that the singer, the famous +singer, was dead? + +One evening she was strolling through a deserted street. At one end of +the street was a rubbish shoot. Without knowing why, she stood still, +and then she had an object lesson on the futility of all earthly things. +For on the rubbish heap lay a post-card, and on the post-card was her +picture in the part of Carmen. + +She walked away quickly, suppressing her tears. She came to a little +side street, and stopped before a stationer's shop. It had been her +custom to look at the shop windows to see whether her portrait was +exhibited. But it was not exhibited here; instead of that her eyes fell +on a text and she read it, unconsciously: + +"The face of the Lord is against them that do evil, to cut off the +remembrance of them from the earth." + +Them that do evil! That was the reason why her memory was blotted out. +That was the explanation of the forgetfulness of men. + +"But is it not possible to undo the wrong I have done?" she moaned. +"Have I not been sufficiently punished?" + +And she wandered in the direction of the wood, where she was not likely +to meet anybody. And as she was walking along, crushed, humiliated, her +heart full of despair, she met another lonely being, who stopped her as +she was going to pass him. His eyes begged permission to speak to her. + +It was the conductor. But his eyes did not reproach her, nor did they +pity her, they only expressed admiration, admiration and tenderness. + +"How beautiful and slender you have grown, Hannah," he said. + +She looked at herself, and she could not help admitting that he +was right. Grief had burnt all her superfluous fat and she was more +beautiful than she had ever been. + +"And you look as young as ever! Younger!" + +It was the first kind word which she had heard for many a day; and since +it had been spoken by him whom she had wronged, she realised what a +splendid character he had, and said so. + +"I hope you haven't lost your voice?" asked the conductor, who could not +bear flattery. + +"I don't know," she sobbed. + +"Come to me to-morrow... yes, come to the Opera-house, and then we shall +see. I am conducting there...." + +The singer went, not once or twice, but many times, and regained her +former position. + +The public had forgiven and forgotten all the evil she had done. And she +became greater and more famous than she had been before. + +Isn't that an edifying story? + + + + + +THE STORY OF THE ST. GOTTHARD + +It was Saturday night in Goeschenen, in the canton of Uri, that part of +Switzerland which William Tell and Walter Fuerst have made famous. +The pretty green village on the northern side of the St. Gotthard is +situated on a little stream which drives a mill-wheel and contains +trout. Quiet, kindly people live there, who speak the German language +and have home rule, and the "sacred wood" protects their homes from +avalanche and landslip. + +On the Saturday night I am speaking of, all the folks were gathering +round the village pump, underneath the great walnut tree, at the hour +when the church bells were ringing the Angelus. The postmaster, the +magistrate, and the colonel were there, all in their shirt-sleeves and +carrying scythes. They had been mowing all day long, and had come to the +pump to wash their scythes, for in the little village work was sacred +and every man was his own servant. Then the young men came trooping +through the village street, carrying scythes too, and the maids with +their milk-pails; finally the cows, a gigantic breed, every cow as big +as a bull. The country is rich and fertile, but it bears neither wine +nor olives, neither the mulberry tree nor the luxurious maize. Nothing +but green grass and golden corn, the walnut tree and the luscious +beet-root grow there. + +At the foot of the steep wall of the St. Gotthard, close to the pump, +stood the inn, "The Golden Horse." All the tired men, regardless of rank +or position, were sitting at a long table in the garden, not one of +them was missing: the magistrate, the postmaster, the colonel and the +farmers' labourers; the straw-hat manufacturer and his workmen, the +little village shoemaker, and the schoolmaster, they were all there. + +They talked of cattle breeding and harvest time; they sang songs, +reminiscent in their simplicity of cowbells and the shepherd's flute. +They sang of the spring and its pure joys, of its promise and its hope. +And they drank the golden beer. + +After a while the young men rose to play, to wrestle and to jump, for on +the following day was the annual festival of the Rifle Club, and +there would be trials of strength, and competitions; it was important +therefore that their limbs should be supple. + +And at an early hour that night the whole village was in bed, for no man +must be late on the morning of the festival, and no one must be sleepy +or dull. The honour of the village was involved. + +*** + +It was Sunday morning; the sun was shining brightly and the church bells +were ringing. Men and women from the neighbouring villages, in their +best Sunday clothes, were gathering on the village green, and all of +them looked happy and very wide awake. Nearly every man carried a gun +instead of the scythe; and matrons and maids looked at the men with +scrutinising and encouraging eyes, for it was for the defence of their +country and their homes that they had learned to handle a gun; and +to-night the best shot would have the honour of opening the dance with +the prettiest girl of the village. + +A large waggon, drawn by four horses, gaily decorated with flowers and +ribbons, drew up; the whole waggon had been transformed into a summer +arbour; one could not see the people inside, but one could hear their +songs. They sang of Switzerland and the Swiss people, the most beautiful +country and the bravest people in the world. + +Behind the waggon walked the children's procession. They went by twos, +hand in hand, like good friends or little brides and bridegrooms. + +And with the pealing of bells the procession slowly wound up the +mountain to the church. + +After divine service the festivities began, and very soon shots were +fired on the rifle-range, which was built against the rocky wall of the +St. Gotthard. + +The postmaster's son was the best shot in the village, and nobody +doubted that he would win the prize. He hit the bull's-eye four times +out of six. + +From the summit of the mountain came a hallooing and a crashing; stones +and gravel rolled down the precipice, and the fir trees in the sacred +wood rocked as if a gale were blowing. On the top of a cliff, his rifle +slung across his shoulders, frantically waving his hat, appeared the +wild chamois hunter Andrea of Airolo, an Italian village on the other +side of the mountain. + +"Don't go into the wood!" screamed the riflemen. + +Andrea did not understand. + +"Don't go into the sacred wood," shouted the magistrate, "or the +mountain will fall on us!" + +"Let it fall, then," shouted Andrea, running down the cliff with +incredible rapidity. + +"Here I am!" + +"You're too late!" exclaimed the magistrate. + +"I have never been too late yet!" replied Andrea; went to the +shooting-range, raised his rifle six times to his cheek, and each time +hit the bull's-eye. + +Now, he really was the best shot, but the club had its regulations, +and, moreover, the dark-skinned men from the other side of the mountain, +where the wine grew and the silk was spun, were not very popular. An old +feud raged between them and the men of Goeschenen, and the newcomer was +disqualified. + +But Andrea approached the prettiest girl in the grounds, who happened +to be the magistrate's own daughter, and politely asked her to open the +dance with him. + +Pretty Gertrude blushed, for she was fond of Andrea, but she was obliged +to refuse his request. + +Andrea frowned, bowed and whispered words into her ear, which covered +her face with crimson. + +"You shall be my wife," he said, "even if I have to wait ten years for +you. I have walked eight hours across the mountain to meet you; that is +why I am so late; next time I shall be in good time, even if I should +have to walk right through the mountain itself." + +The festivities were over. All the riflemen were sitting in "The Golden +Horse," Andrea in the midst of them. Rudi, the son of the postmaster, +sat at the head of the table, because he was the prize-winner according +to the regulations, even if Andrea was the best shot in reality. + +Rudi was in a teasing mood. + +"Well, Andrea," he said, "we all know you for a mighty hunter; but, you +know, it's easier to shoot a chamois than to carry it home." + +"If I shoot a chamois I carry it home," replied Andrea. + +"Maybe you do! But everybody here has had a shot at Barbarossa's ring, +although nobody has won it yet!" answered Rudi. + +"What is that about Barbarossa's ring?" asked a stranger who had never +been in Goeschenen. + +"That's Barbarossa's ring, over there," said Rudi. + +He pointed to the side of the mountain, where a large copper ring hung +on a hook, and went on: + +"This is the road by which King Frederick Barbarossa used to travel to +Italy; he travelled over it six times, and was crowned both in Milan and +in Rome. And as this made him German-Roman emperor, he caused this +ring to be hung up on the mountain, in remembrance of his having wedded +Germany to Italy. And if this ring, so goes the saying, can be lifted +off its hook, then the marriage, which was not a happy one, will be +annulled." + +"Then I will annul it," said Andrea. "I will break the bonds as my +fathers broke the bonds which bound my poor country to the tyrants of +Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden." + +"Are you not a Swiss, yourself?" asked the magistrate severely. + +"No, I am an Italian of the Swiss Confederation." + +He slipped an iron bullet into his gun, took aim and shot. + +The ring was lifted from below and jerked off the hook. Barbarossa's +ring lay at their feet. + +"Long live Italy!" shouted Andrea. throwing his hat into the air. + +Nobody said a word. + +Andrea picked up the ring, handed it to the magistrate and said: + +"Keep this ring in memory of me and this day, on which you did me a +wrong." + +He seized Gertrude's hand and kissed it; climbed up the mountain and +disappeared; was seen again and vanished in a cloud. After a while he +reappeared, high above them; but this time it was merely his gigantic +shadow thrown on a cloud. And there he stood, shaking a threatening fist +at the village. + +"That was Satan himself," said the colonel. + +"No, it was an Italian," said the postmaster. + +"Since it is late in the evening," said the magistrate, "I'll tell you +an official secret, which will be read in all the papers to-morrow." + +"Hear! hear!" + +"We have received information that when it became known that the Emperor +of France was made a prisoner at Sedan, the Italians drove the French +troops out of Rome, and that Victor Emanuel is at this moment on his way +to the capital." + +"This is great news. It puts an end to Germany's dreams of promenades to +Rome. Andrea must have known about it when he boasted so much." + +"He must have known more," said the magistrate. + +"What? What?" + +"Wait, and you'll see." + +And they saw. + +*** + +One day strangers came and carefully examined the mountain through +their field-glasses. It looked as if they were gazing at the place where +Barbarossa's ring had hung, for that was the spot at which they directed +their glasses. And then they consulted the compass, as if they did not +know which was the North and which was the South. + +There was a big dinner at "The Golden Horse," at which the magistrate +was present. At dessert they talked of millions and millions of money. + +A short time after "The Golden Horse" was pulled down; next came the +church, which was taken down piece by piece and built up again on +another spot; half the village was razed to the ground; barracks were +built, the course of the stream deflected, the mill-wheel taken away, +the factory closed, the cattle sold. + +And then three thousand Italian-speaking labourers with dark hair and +olive skins arrived on the scene. + +The beautiful old songs of Switzerland and the pure joys of spring were +heard no more. + +Instead of that, the sound of hammering could be heard day and night. A +jumper was driven into the mountain at the exact spot where Barbarossa's +ring had hung; and then the blasting began. + +It would not have been so very difficult (as everybody knew) to make a +hole through the mountain, but it was intended to make two holes, one on +each side, and the two holes were to meet in the middle; nobody believed +that this was possible, for the tunnel was to be nearly nine miles long. +Nearly nine miles! + +And what would happen if they did not meet? Well, they would have to +begin again at the beginning. + +But the engineer-in-chief had assured them that they would meet. + +Andrea, on the Italian side, had faith in the engineer-in-chief, and +since he was himself a very capable fellow, as we know, he applied for +work under him and soon was made a foreman. + +Andrea liked his work. He no longer saw daylight, the green fields and +snow-clad Alps. But he fancied that he was cutting a way for himself +through the mountain to Gertrude, the way which he had boasted he would +come. + +For eight years he stood in darkness, living the life of a dog, stripped +to the waist, for he was working in a temperature of a hundred degrees. +Now the way was blocked by a spring, and he had to work standing in the +water; now by a deposit of loam, and he stood almost knee-deep in +the mire; the atmosphere was nearly always foul, and many of his +fellow-labourers succumbed to it; but new ones were ever ready to take +their place. Finally Andrea, too, succumbed, and was taken into the +hospital. He was tortured by the idea that the two tunnels would never +meet. Supposing they never met! + +There were also men from the other side in the hospital; and at +times, when they were not delirious, they would ask one another the +all-absorbing question: "Would they meet?" + +The people from the South had never before been so anxious to meet the +people from the North as they were now, deep down in the heart of the +mountain. They knew that if they met, their feud of over a thousand +years' standing would be over, and they would fall into each other's +arms, reconciled. + +Andrea recovered and returned to work; he was in the strike of 1875, +threw a stone, and underwent a term of imprisonment. + +In the year 1877 his native village, Airolo, was destroyed by fire. + +"Now I have burnt my boats behind me," he said, "there is no going +back--I must go on." + +The 19th of July 1879 was a day of mourning. The engineer-in-chief had +gone into the mountain to measure and to calculate; and, all absorbed +in his work, he had had a stroke and died. Died with his race only half +run! He ought to have been buried where he fell, in a more gigantic +stone pyramid than any of the Egyptian Pharaohs had built for tees, and +his name, Favre, should have been carved into the stone. + +However, time passed, Andrea gained money, experience, and strength. He +never went to Goeschenen, but once a year he went to the "sacred wood" to +contemplate the devastation, as he said. + +He never saw Gertrude, never sent her a letter; there was no need for +it, he was always with her is his thoughts, and he felt that her will +was his. + +In the seventh year the magistrate died, in poverty. + +"What a lucky thing that he died a poor man," thought Andrea; and there +are not many sons-in-law who would think like that. + +In the eighth year something extraordinary happened; Andrea, foremost +man on the Italian side of the tunnel, was hard at work, beating on his +jumper. There was scarcely any air; he felt suffocated, and suffered +from a disagreeable buzzing in his ears. Suddenly he heard a ticking, +which sounded like the ticking of a wood-worm, whom people call "the +death-watch." + +"Has my last hour come?" he said, thinking aloud. + +"Your last hour!" replied a voice; he did not know whether it was within +or without him, but he felt afraid. + +On the next day he again heard the ticking, but more distinctly, so that +he came to the conclusion that it must be his watch. + +But on the third day, which was a holiday, he heard nothing; and now he +believed that it must have been something supernatural; he was afraid +and went to mass, and in his heart he deplored the futility of life. He +would never see the great day, never win the prize offered to the man +who would first walk through the dividing wall, never win Gertrude. + +On the Monday, however, he was again the foremost of the men in the +tunnel, but he felt despondent, for he no longer believed that they +would meet the Germans in the mountain. + +He beat and hammered, but without enthusiasm, slowly, as his weakened +heart was beating after the tunnel-sickness. All of a sudden he heard +something like a shot and a tremendous crashing noise inside the +mountain on the other side. + +And now a light burst on him; they had met. + +He fell on his knees and thanked God. And then he arose and began to +work. He worked during breakfast, during dinner, during recreation time, +and during supper. When his right arm was lame with exertion, he worked +with the left one. He thought of the engineer-in-chief, who had been +struck down before the wall of rock; he sang the song of the three men +in the fiery furnace, for it seemed to him that the air around him was +red-hot, while the perspiration dropped from his forehead, and his feet +stood in the mire. + +On the stroke of seven, on the 28th of January, he fell forward on his +jumper, which pierced the wall right through. Loud cheering from the +other side roused him, and he understood; he realised that they had met, +that his troubles were over, and that he was the winner of ten thousand +lire. + +After a sigh of thanksgiving to the All-Merciful God, he pressed his +lips to the bore-hole and whispered the name, of Gertrude; and then he +called for three times three cheers for the Germans. + +At eleven o'clock at night, there were shouts of "attention!" on the +Italian side, and with a thunderous crash, a noise like the booming of +cannon at a siege, the wall fell down. Germans and Italians embraced +one another and wept, and all fell on their knees and sang the "Te Deum +laudamus." + +It was a great moment; it was in 1880, the year in which Stanley's work +in Africa was done, and Nordenskoeld had accomplished his task. + +When they had sung the "Te Deum" a German workman stepped forward and +handed to the Italians a beautifully got-up parchment. It was a record +and an appreciation of the services of the engineer-in-chief, Louis +Favre. + +He was to be the first man to pass through the tunnel, and Andrea was +appointed to carry the memorial and his name by the little workmen's +train to Airolo. + +And Andrea accomplished his mission faithfully, sitting before the +locomotive on a barrow. + +Yes, it was a great day, and the night was no less great. + +They drank wine in Airolo, Italian wine, and let off fireworks. They +made speeches on Louis Favre, Stanley, and Nordenskoeld; they made a +speech on the St. Gotthard, which, for thousands of years had been a +barrier between Germany and Italy, between the North and the South. A +barrier it had been, and at the same time a uniter, honestly dividing +its waters between the German Rhine, the French Rhone, the North Sea and +the Mediterranean.... + +"And the Adriatic," interrupted a man from Tessin. "Don't forget the +Ticino, which is a tributary to the largest river of Italy, the mighty +Po...." + +"Bravo! That's better still! Three cheers for the St. Gotthard, the +great Germany, the free Italy, and the new France!" + +It was a great night, following a great day. + +*** + +On the following morning Andrea called at the Engineering Offices. He +wore his Italian shooting-dress; an eagle's feather ornamented his hat, +and a gun and a knapsack were slung across his shoulder. His face and +his hands were white. + +"So you have done with the tunnel," said the cashier, or the "moneyman," +as they called him. "Well, nobody can blame you for it, for what remains +to be done is mason's work. To your account, then!" + +The moneyman opened a book, wrote something on a piece of paper, and +handed Andrea ten thousand lire in gold. + +Andrea signed his name, put the gold into his knapsack and went. + +He jumped into a workman's train, and in ten minutes he had arrived +at the fallen barrier. There were fires burning in the mountain, the +workmen cheered when they saw him and waved their caps. It was splendid! + +Ten more minutes and he was at the Swiss side. When he saw the daylight +shining through the entrance to the tunnel, the train stopped and he got +out. + +He walked towards the green light, and came to the village and the +green world, bathed in sunlight; the village had been rebuilt and looked +prettier than before. And when the workmen saw him they saluted their +first man. + +He went straight up to a little house, and there, under a walnut tree, +by the side of the bee-hives, stood Gertrude, calm, and a hundred times +more beautiful and gentle. It looked as if she had stood there for eight +years, waiting for him. + +"Now I have come," he said, "as I intended to come! Will you follow me +to my country?" + +"I will follow you wherever you go!" + +"I gave you a ring long ago; have you still got it?" + +"I have it still!" + +"Then let us go at once! No, don't turn back! Don't take anything with +you!" + +And they went away, hand in hand, but not through the tunnel. + +"On to the mountain!" said Andrea, turning in the direction of the old +pass; "through darkness I came to you, but in light I will live with you +and for you!" + + + + + + +THE STORY OF JUBAL WHO HAD NO "I" + +Once upon a time there was a king whose name was John Lackland, and it +is not difficult to imagine the reason why. + +But another time there lived a great singer who was called "Jubal, who +had no I," and I am now going to tell you the reason. + +The name which he had inherited from his father, a soldier, was Peal, +and undeniably there was music in the name. But nature had also given +him a strong will, which stiffened his back like an iron bar, and that +is a splendid gift, quite invaluable in the struggle for an existence. +When he was still a baby, only just able to stammer a few words, he +would never refer to his own little person as "he," as other babies do, +but from the very first he spoke of himself as "I." You have no "I," +said his parents. When he grew older, he expressed every little want or +desire by "I will." But then his father said to him, "You have no will," +and "Your will grows in the wood." + +It was very foolish of the soldier, but he knew no better; he had +learned to will only what he was ordered to do. + +Young Peal thought it strange that he should be supposed to have no will +when he had such a very strong one, but he let it pass. + +When he had grown into a fine, strong youth, his father said to him one +day, "What trade will you learn?" + +The boy did not know; he had ceased to will anything, because he was +forbidden to do so. It is true, he had a leaning towards music, but he +did not dare to say so, for he was convinced that his parents would not +allow him to become a musician. Therefore, being an obedient son, he +replied, "I don't will anything." + +"Then you shall be a tapster," said the father. + +Whether it was because the father knew a tapster, or because wine had +a peculiar attraction for him, is a matter of indifference. It is quite +enough to know that young Peal was sent to the wine vaults, and he might +have fared a good deal worse. + +There was a lovely smell of sealing-wax and French wine in the cellars, +and they were large and had vaulted roofs, like churches. When he sat at +the casks and tapped the red wine, his heart was filled with gladness, +and he sang, in an undertone at first, all sorts of tunes which he had +picked up. + +His master, to whom wine spelt life, loved song and gaiety, and never +dreamed of stopping his singing; it sounded so well in the vaults, and, +moreover, it attracted customers, which was a splendid thing from the +master's point of view. + +One day a commercial traveller dropped in; he had started life as an +opera-singer, and when he heard Peal, he was so delighted with him that +he invited him to dinner. + +They played nine-pins, ate crabs with dill, drank punch, and, above +everything, sang songs. Between two songs, and after they had sworn +eternal friendship, the commercial traveller said: + +"Why don't you go on the stage?" + +"I?" answered Peal, "how could I do that?" + +"All you have to do is to say 'I will.'" + +This was a new doctrine, for since his third year young Peal had not +used the words "I" and "will." He had trained himself to neither wish +nor will, and he begged his friend not to lead him into temptation. + +But the commercial traveller came again; he came many times, and once +he was accompanied by a famous singer; and one evening Peal, after much +applause from a professor of singing, took his fate into his own hands. + +He said good-bye to his master, and over a glass of wine heartily +thanked his friend, the commercial traveller, for having given him +self-confidence and will,--"will, that iron bar, which keeps a man's +back erect and prevents him from grovelling on all fours." And he swore +a solemn oath never to forget his friend, who had taught him to have +faith in himself. + +Then he went to say good-bye to his parents. + +"I will be a singer," he said in a loud voice, which echoed through the +room. + +The father glanced at the horse-whip, and the mother cried; but it was +no use. + +"Don't lose yourself, my darling boy," were the mother's last words. + +*** + +Young Peal managed to raise enough money to enable him to go abroad. +There he learned singing according to all the rules of the art, and in a +few years' time he was a very great singer indeed. He earned much money +and travelled with his own impresario. + +Peal was prospering now and found no difficulty in saying "I will," or +even "I command." His "I" grew to gigantic proportions, and he suffered +no other "I's" near him. He denied himself nothing, and did not put +his light under a bushel. But now, as he was about to return to his own +country, his impresario told him that no man could be a great singer and +at the same time be called Peal; he advised him to adopt a more elegant +name, a foreign name by preference, for that was the fashion. + +The great man fought an inward struggle, for it is not a very nice thing +to change one's name; it looks as if one were ashamed of one's father +and mother, and is apt to create a bad impression. + +But hearing that it was the fashion, he let it pass. + +He opened his Bible to look for a name, for the Bible is the very best +book for the purpose. + +And when he came to Jubal, "who was the son of Lamech, and the father of +all such as handle the harp and organ," he considered that he could +not do better. The impresario, who was an Englishman, suggested that he +should call himself Mr. Jubal, and Peal agreed. Henceforth he was Mr. +Jubal. + +It was all quite harmless, of course, since it was the fashion, but it +was nevertheless a strange thing with the new name Peal had changed his +nature. His past was blotted out. Mr. Jubal looked upon himself as +an Englishman born and bred, spoke with a foreign accent, grew +side-whiskers and wore very high collars; a checked suit grew round him +as the bark grows round a tree, apparently without any effort on his +part. He carried himself stiffly, and when he met a friend in the street +he acknowledged his friendly bow with the flicker of an eyelid. He never +turned round if anybody called after him, and he always stood right in +the middle of a street car. + +He hardly knew himself. + +He was now at home again, in his own country, and engaged to sing at the +Opera-house. He played kings and prophets, heroes and demons, and he was +so good an actor that whenever he rehearsed a part, he instantly became +the part he impersonated. + +One day he was strolling along the street. He was playing some sort of +a demon, but he was also Mr. Jubal. Suddenly he heard a voice calling +after him, "Peal!" He did not turn round, for no Englishman would do +such a thing, and, moreover, his name was no longer Peal. + +But the voice called again, "Peal!" and his friend, the commercial +traveller, stood before him, looking at him searchingly, and yet with an +expression of shy kindliness. + +"Dear old Peal, it _is_ you!" he said. + +Mr. Jubal felt that a demon was taking possession of him; he opened his +mouth so wide that he showed all his teeth, and bellowed a curt "No!" + +Then his friend felt quite convinced that it was he and went away. He +was an enlightened man, who knew men, the world and himself inside out, +and therefore he was neither sorry nor astonished. + +But Mr. Jubal thought he was; he heard a voice within him saying, +"Before the cock crow thou shalt deny me thrice," and he did what St. +Peter had done, he went away and wept bitterly. That is to say, he wept +in imagination, but the demon in his heart laughed. + +Henceforth he was always laughing; he laughed at good and evil, sorrow +and disgrace, at everything and everybody. + +His father and mother knew, from the papers, who Mr. Jubal really +was, but they never went to the Opera-house, for they fancied it had +something to do with hoops and horses, and they objected to seeing their +son in such surroundings. + +Mr. Jubal was now the greatest living singer; he had lost a lot of his +"I," but he still had his will. + +Then his day came. There was a little ballet-dancer who could bewitch +men, and she bewitched Jubal. She bewitched him to such an extent that +he asked her whether he might be hers. (He meant, of course, whether she +would be his, but the other is a more polite way of expressing it.) + +"You shall be mine," said the sorceress, "if I may take you." + +"You may do anything you like," replied Jubal. + +The girl took him at his word and they married. First of all he taught +her to sing and play, and then he gave her everything she asked for. +But since was a sorceress, she always wanted the things which he most +objected to giving to her, and so, gradually, she wrested his will from +him and made him her slave. + +One fine day Mrs. Jubal had become a great singer, so great that when +the audience called "Jubal!" it was not Mr. but Mrs. Jubal who took the +call. + +Jubal, of course, longed to regain his former position, but he scorned +to do it at his wife's expense. + +The world began to forget him. + +The brilliant circle of friends who had surrounded Mr. Jubal in his +bachelor chambers now surrounded his wife, for it was she who was +"Jubal." + +Nobody wanted to talk to him or drink with him, and when he attempted to +join in the conversation, nobody listened to his remarks; it was just +as if he were not present, and his wife was treated as if she were an +unmarried woman. + +Then Mr. Jubal grew very lonely, and in his loneliness he began to +frequent the cafes. + +One evening he was at a restaurant, trying to find somebody to talk to, +and ready to talk to anybody willing to listen to him. All at once he +caught sight of his old friend the commercial traveller, sitting at a +table by himself, evidently very bored. "Thank goodness," he thought, +"here's somebody to spend an hour with--it's old Lundberg." + +He went to Mr. Lundberg's table and said "good evening." But no sooner +had he done so than his friend's face changed in so extraordinary a +manner that Jubal wondered whether he had made a mistake. + +"Aren't you Lundberg?" he asked. + +"Yes!" + +"Don't you know me? I'm Jubal!" + +"No!" + +"Don't you know your old friend Peal?" + +"Peal died a long time ago." + +Then Jubal understood that he was, from a certain point of view, dead, +and he went away. + +On the following day he left the stage for ever and opened a school for +singing, with the title of a professor. + +Then he went to foreign countries, and remained abroad for many years. + +Sadness, for he mourned for himself as for a dead friend, and sorrow +were fast making an old man of him. But he was glad that it should be +so, for, he thought, if I'm old, it won't last much longer. But as he +did not age quite as fast as he would have liked, he bought himself a +wig with long white curls. He felt better after that, for it disguised +him completely, so completely that he did not know himself. + +With long strides, his hands crossed on his back, he walked up and down +the pavements, lost in a brown study; he seemed to be looking for some +one, or expecting some one. If his eyes met the glance of other eyes, +he did not respond to the question in them; if anybody tried to make his +acquaintance, he would never talk of anything but things and objects. +And he never said "I" or "I find," but always "it seems." He had lost +himself, as he did one day just as he was going to shave. He was sitting +before his looking-glass, his chin covered with a lather of soap; he +raised the hand which held the razor and looked into the glass; then he +beheld the room behind his back, but he could not see his face, and +all at once he realised how matters stood. Now he was filled with a +passionate yearning to find himself again. He had given the best part of +himself to his wife, for she had his will, and so he decided to go and +see her. + +When he was back in his native country and walked through the streets in +his white wig, not a soul recognised him. But a musician who had been in +Italy, meeting him in town one day, said in a loud voice, "There goes a +maestro!" + +Immediately Jubal imagined that he was a great composer. He bought some +music paper and started to write a score; that is to say, he wrote a +number of long and short notes on the lines, some for the violins, +of course, others for the wood-wind, and the remainder for the brass +instruments. He sent his work to the Conservatoire. But nobody could +play the music, because it was not music, but only notes. + +A little later on he was met by an artist who had been in Paris. "There +goes a model!" said the artist. Jubal heard it, and at once believed +that he was a model, for he believed everything that was said of him, +because he did not know who or what he was. + +Presently he remembered his wife, and he resolved to go and see her. He +did go, but she had married again, and she and her second husband, who +was a baron, had gone abroad. + +At last he grew tired of his quest, and, like all tired men, he felt a +great yearning for his mother. He knew that she was a widow and lived in +a cottage in the mountains, so one day he went to see her. + +"Don't you know me?" he asked. + +"What is your name?" asked the mother. + +"My name is your son's name. Don't you know it?" + +"My son's name was Peal, but yours is Jubal, and I don't know Jubal." + +"You disown me?" + +"As you disowned yourself and your mother." + +"Why did you rob me of my will when I was a little child?" + +"You gave your will to a woman." + +"I had to, because it was the only way of winning her. But why did you +tell me I had no will?" + +"Well, your father told you that, my boy, and he knew no better; +you must forgive him, for he is dead now. Children, you see, are not +supposed to have a will of their own, but grown-up people are." + +"How well you explain it all, mother! Children are not supposed to have +a will, but grown-up people are." + +"Now, listen to me, Gustav," said his mother, "Gustav Peal...." + +These were his two real names, and when he heard them from her lips, he +became himself again. All the parts he had played--kings and demons, +the maestro and the model--cut and ran, and he was but the son of his +mother. + +He put his head on her knees and said, "Now, let me die here, for at +last I am at home." + + + + + +THE GOLDEN HELMETS IN THE ALLEBERG + +Anders was the son of poor people, and in his youth he had wandered +through many kingdoms, with a bale of cloth and a yard-measure on his +back. But as he grew older he came to the conclusion that it would be +better to wear the king's uniform and carry a rifle on his shoulder, and +therefore he went and enlisted in the Vaestgotadal regiment. And one day +it happened that he was sent to Stockholm on sentry duty. + +Friend Cask, as he was now called, was on leave one day, and he made +up his mind to spend it at the "Fort." But when he came to the gate +he found that he had not a sixpence, and consequently he had to remain +outside. + +For a long time he stood staring at the railings, and then he thought, +"I'll just walk round; perhaps I'll come across a stile; if the worst +comes to the worst, I'll climb over." + +The sun was setting; he walked along the shore, at the foot of the +mountain, and the railings were high above him; he could hear the sound +of music and singing. Cask went round and round, but found no stile, and +at last the railings disappeared in a forest of nut trees. When he was +tired he sat down on a hillock and began to crack nuts. + +Suddenly a squirrel appeared before him and put up its tail. + +"Leave my nuts alone!" it said. + +"I will, if you'll take me to a stile," said Cask. + +"Part of the way, then," said the squirrel. It hopped along and the +soldier followed, until all at once it had vanished. + +Then a hedgehog came rustling along. + +"Come with me and I'll show you the stile," it said. + +"Go with you? not if I know it." + +But in spite of his remark the hedgehog followed him. + +Next an adder joined them. It was very genteel; it lisped and could +twist itself into a knot. + +"Follow me," it said, "_I_ will show you the stile." + +"I follow," said Cask. + +"But you mutht be genteel; you muthtn't t stread as me. I like nithe +people." + +"Well, a soldier isn't exactly genteel," said Cask, "but I'm not so +terribly uncouth." + +"Tread on it," said the hedgehog, "else it will bite you, ever so +genteely." + +The adder reared its neck and rustled away. + +"Stop!" shouted the hedgehog, attacking the snake. "I am not as genteel +as you are, but I show my bristles openly, I do!" + +And then it killed the snake and disappeared. + +Now the soldier was alone in the wood and very sorry he felt that he had +rejected the society of the prickly hedgehog. + +It had grown dark, but the crescent of the moon shone between the birch +leaves, and it was quite still. + +The soldier fancied that he could see a big yellow hand moving backwards +and forwards. He went close up to it, and then he saw that it was a +yellow leaf, which seemed to gesticulate with its fingers, although +nobody could possibly understand what it wanted to say. + +As he stood there, watching it, he heard an asp trembling: + +"Huh! I'm so cold," said the asp, "for my feet are wet, and I _am_ so +frightened." + +"What are you frightened of?" asked the soldier. + +"Well, of the dwarf who is sitting in the mountain." + +Now the soldier realised what the maple leaf meant, and there was +no doubt about it, he saw a dwarf sitting in the mountain, cooking +porridge. + +"Who are you?" asked the dwarf. + +"I belong to the Vaestgotadal regiment; where do you come from?" + +"I," said the dwarf, "I am in the Alleberg." + +"The Alleberg is in the Vaestgota country," answered the soldier. + +"We have removed it to this place," replied the dwarf. + +"You lie!" exclaimed the soldier, seized the pot by its handle and threw +the porridge into the fire. + +"Now we'll have a look at the mouse-hole," he said, and went right into +the mountain. + +There he found a giant sitting by a huge fire, making an iron bar +red-hot. + +"Good day, good day," said the soldier, stretching out his hand. + +"Good day to you," said the giant, giving him the red-hot iron bar. + +Cask took the iron and pressed it so hard that it hissed. + +"You have got very warm hands, I must say," he said. "What's your name?" + +"I'm the giant Swede," said the troll. + +"That was a Swedish hand-shake of yours, anyhow, and now I realise that +I am in the Alleberg. Are the golden helmets still asleep?" + +"Will you be quiet!" exclaimed the giant, threatening him with the +red-hot bar. + +"You shall see them, because you belong to the Vaestgotadal regiment, but +first of all you must solve my riddle," he continued. + +"If you want to fight one of your own countrymen, well and good. But +first of all, put that fiery thing away!" + +"Very well, Cask, you shall recite the history of Sweden while I smoke +my pipe. Then I will show you the golden helmets. The whole history of +Sweden, please." + +"I can easily do that, although I was not one of the top dogs at the +military school. Let me try and recall it to memory." + +"There is one condition: you must not mention the name of a single king; +for if you do, those inside will get angry; and when they get angry, +then, you know...." + +"It will be awfully difficult. But light your pipe and I'll begin. +Here's a match!" + +The soldier scratched his head and began: + +"One--two--three! In the year 1161, or thereabouts, Sweden first came +into existence; a kingdom, a king, and an archbishop--is that enough?" + +"No," said Swede, "not at all. Begin again." + +"Very well, then! In the year 1359 the Swedish people became a nation, +for then the Parliament of the four estates first met, and it continued +to meet, with interruptions, until 1866." + +"Well, but you're a soldier," said Swede, "surely you'll have a few +words to say about wars." + +"There are only two wars of any importance, and they ended, the first +with the peace of Broemsebro in 1645, when we got Herjedalen, Jaemtland, +and Gottland, and the second with the peace of Roeskilde in 1658, when we +got Schonen, Halland, Blekinge, and Bohuslaen. And that is all there is +of the history of Sweden." + +"But you forget the constitutions?" + +"Well, we had an autocracy from 1680 to 1718 then there followed +a period of freedom until 1789, and this was followed again by an +autocracy. Then came Adlersparre's revolution in 1809, and he got Hans +Jaerke to draw up the constitution which is still surviving. That is all +you need know. Haven't you finished your pipe yet?" + +"There!" said the giant. "It wasn't so bad on the whole! And now you +shall see the golden helmets." + +The troll arose with difficulty and went into the inferior of the +mountain; the soldier followed at his heels. + +"Tread softly!" said the giant, pointing to a light with a golden helmet +who was leaning against a door, made of rock, apparently fast asleep. +But before the words had been out of his mouth, Cask stumbled and the +iron on the heel of his shoe struck a stone so forcibly that it emitted +sparks. The golden helmet awoke at once, just as if he had been a +sleeping sentry, and called: + +"Is it time?" + +"Not yet!" answered the giant. + +The knight with the golden helmet sat down again and instantly fell +asleep. + +The giant opened a mountain wall and the soldier looked into a huge +hall. A table, that seemed to have no end, ran through the centre of the +hall, and in the twilight the soldier could see a brilliant gathering +of knights with golden helmets sitting in arm-chairs, the backs of which +were decorated with golden crowns. At the head of the table sat a man +who seemed head and shoulders taller than the rest; his beard reached to +his waist, like the beard of Moses or Joshua, and he held a hammer all +his hand. + +All of them seemed fast asleep, although it was neither the sleep which +restores strength, nor the sleep which is called eternal sleep. + +"Now, pay attention," said the giant, "to-day is the great commemoration +day." + +He pressed a finger on a lark garnet in the mountain rock, and a +thousand flames shot up. + +The golden helmets awoke. + +"Who goes there?" asked the man with the prophet's beard. + +"Swede," answered the giant. + +"A good name!" replied Gustav Eriksson Wasa, for it was he. "How much +time has passed away?" + +"In years, after the birth of Christ, one thousand nine hundred and +three." + +"Time flies. But have you made arty progress? Are you still a country +and a nation?" + +"We are. But since Gustavus I, the country has grown. Jaemtland, +Herjedalen, and Gottland have been added." + +"Who conquered them?" + +"Well, it was in the time of Queen Christina; but her guardians really +conquered them." + +"And then?" + +"Then we got Schonen, Halland, Blekinge, and Bohuslaen." + +"The deuce you did! Who won them?" + +"Charles X." + +"Well, and then?" + +"Nothing else." + +"Is that all?" + +Somebody knocked on the table. + +"Erich the saint wishes to speak," said Gustav Wasa. + +"My name is Erich Jedvardson, and I never was a saint. May I be allowed +to ask Swede what became of my Finland?" + +"Finland belongs to Russia, by its own wish, after the peace of +Fredrikshamn in 1809, when the Finnish nation sore allegiance to the +Czar." + +Gustavus II., Adolfus, asked permission to speak. + +"Where are the Baltic provinces?" he asked. + +"Reclaimed by their rightful owner," answered Swede. + +"And the emperor? Is there still an emperor?" + +"There are two; one in Berlin. and one in Vienna." + +"Two of the House of Habsburg?" + +"No, one of the House of Habsburg and the other of the House of +Hohenzollern." + +"Incredible! And the Catholics in North Germany--are they converted?" + +"No, the Catholics form the majority in the German Parliament, and the +emperor at Berlin is trying to put pressure on the College of Cardinals, +with a view to influencing the choice of the next Pope." + +"There is still a Pope, then?" + +"Oh! yes, although one of them has just died." + +"And what does the Hohenzollern want in Rome?" + +"No one knows; some say that it is his ambition to become Roman-German +emperor of the Evangelical Confession." + +"A syncretistic emperor dreamt of by John George of Saxony! I don't want +to hear anymore. The ways of Providence are strange, and we mortals, +what are we? Dust and ashes!" + +Charles XII. asked permission to speak. + +"Can Swede tell me what has become of Poland?" + +"Poland is no more. It has been split up." + +"Split up? And Russia?" + +"Russia recently celebrated the foundation of Petersburg, and the Lord +Mavor of Stockholm walked in the procession." + +"As a prisoner?" + +"No, as a guest. All nations are on friendly terms now, and not very +long ago a French army, commanded by a German field-marshall, invaded +China." + +"Delicious! Are people now the friends of their enemies?" + +"Yes, they are all penetrated by a Christian spirit, and there is a +permanent Committee for the Preservation of Peace established at the +Hague." + +"A what?" + +"A permanent Committee for the Preservation of Peace." + +"Then my time is over! God's will be done!" + +The king closed his visor and remained silent. + +Charles, XI. claimed attention. + +"Well, Swede, what about the finances of the old country?" + +"It's difficult to answer your question, for I'm afraid they know +nothing of keeping accounts. But one or two things are certain: that +quite half kingdom has been pledged to the foreigner for about three +hundred millions." + +"Oh! Lord!" + +"And the municipal debts amount to about two hundred millions." + +"Two hundred!" + +"And in the years 1881 to 1885 one hundred and forty-six thousand Swedes +emigrated." + +"Enough! I don't want to hear any more!" + +Gustav Wasa knocked on the table with his hammer. + +"As far as I can understand the matter, the country is in a bad way. +Sluggards you are, lazy, envious, irresponsible sluggards; too idle to +bestir yourselves, but quick enough to prevent anybody else from doing +anything. But tell me, Swede, what about my church and my priests?" + +"The priests of the church are farmers and dairy-keepers. The bishops +have an income of thirty thousand crowns, and collect money, exactly as +they did before the Recess of Vesteraes; moreover, nearly all of +them are heretics, or free-thinkers, as they call themselves. Men are +beginning to expect some sort of a Reformation." + +"Indeed?... And what is the meaning of this music and singing up here?" + +"This is the 'Fort.' That is, a mountain, where they have a collection +of all the national keepsakes, just as if the nation were anticipating +its end and making its last will and testament, gathering together all +the mementoes of the past. It shows reverence for the ancestors, but +nothing else." + +"What we have heard on this commemoration day seems to prove that the +deeds of our forefathers have been engulfed in the ocean of time. One +thing swims on the surface, another sinks to the bottom. Here we are +sitting like the shadows of our former selves, and to you, who are +alive, we must remain shadows.... Put out the lights!" + +The giant Swede extinguished the lights and went out; the soldier +followed close behind him and climbed into something which looked like a +cage. + +"If you say a word to anybody of what you have seen and heard," said the +giant, "you will be sorry for it." + +"I can quite believe that," answered Cask, "but shall always remember +it. That they should have squandered the old country in drink and pledge +to the foreigner! It's too bad--if it's true." + +"Click" went the turbine; and the lift with soldier shot upwards to the +"Fort." And there stood, in the sunset, and the country looked just as +it had looked when the chimes in the belfry Haesjoer chimed, and Gustav +Wasa entered Stockholm, surrounded by his generals. + + + + + +LITTLE BLUEWING FINDS THE GOLDPOWDER + +The rich man had visited the poor island and fallen in love with it. +He could not have said why, but he was charmed; probably the island +resembled some memory of his childhood, or, perhaps, a beautiful dream. + +He bought the island, built a villa, and planted all sorts of lovely +trees, shrubs, and flowers. And all around was the sea; he had his own +landing-stage, with a flag-staff and white boats; oak trees, as tall +as a church, shaded his house, and cool breezes gently swept the green +meadows. He had a wife, children, servants, cattle; he had everything, +except one thing: it was but a trifle, but it was more important than +anything else in the world, and yet he had forgotten it until the very +last: he had no spring water. Wells were sunk and rocks were blasted, +but all he got was brown, brackish water; it was filtered until it +looked as clear as crystal, but it remained brackish. And that was where +the shoe pinched. + +Then there came to the island a man endowed with great gifts; he had +been lucky in all his enterprises, and was one of the most famous men +in the world. Everybody remembered how he struck the mountain with his +diamond staff and produced water from the rock, like Moses. Now he was +to bore or the island and see whether the mountain would yield water, +as other mountains had done. They spent a hundred, a thousand, several +thousand crowns, but found none but brackish water. There was no +blessing on their undertaking. And it was brought home to the rich man +that money will not buy everything, not even, when the worst comes to +the worst, a drink of fresh water. Thereupon he grew despondent and life +seemed to hold no more happiness in store for him. + +The schoolmaster searched the old books, and then sent for a venerable +old man, who came and brought his divining rod; but it was no use. + +But the clergyman was a great deal wiser. He assembled all the school +children one day, and offered a prize to the one who could bring him a +plant called "goldpowder," in Latin Chrysosplenium, which will only grow +near a spring. + +"It has a flower," he said, "like the bird's-eye and leaves like the +saxifrage, and it looks as if it had gold dust on its top leaves. +Remember that!" + +"A flower like the bird's-eye and leaves like the saxifrage," repeated +the children; and they ran into the wood and the fields to look for the +goldpowder. + +Not one of the children found it; a little boy, it is true, came home +with some milk-weed, which have a tiny bit of gold dust on the points of +its leaves; but the milk-weed is poisonous, and it was not at all what +was wanted. And finally the children grew tired of looking for it and +gave it up. + +But there lived on the island a little girl, too small yet to go to +school. Her father had served in the dragoons, and owned a little farm, +but he was rather poor than rich. His only treasure was his little +daughter, whom everybody in the village called "Little Bluewing," +because she always wore a ski blue dress with wide sleeves, which +fluttered like wings when she moved. There is, by the bye, a little blue +butterfly whom the people call bluewing; you can see it in the summer +sitting on the tall blades of the grass, and its wings resemble a flax +blossom; a fluttering flax blossom with antenna instead of filaments. + +Little Bluewing, the dragoon's little bluewing, that is, was not like +other children; she always talked very sensibly, but she often said +queer things, and everybody was puzzled to know where she got them from. +All living things loved her, even the animals; fowls and calves ran up +to her when they saw her, and she even dared to stroke the bull. She +frequently went out by herself and stayed away a long time, but when +anybody asked her where she had been, she could not tell. But she had +had the most wonderful adventures; she had seen strange things; she had +met venerable old men and women, who ha told her no end of wonderful +stories. The dragoon let her do as she liked, for he knew that a +guardian spirit was watching over her. + +*** + +One morning Little Bluewing went out for a walk. She ran through fields +and meadows, singing songs which nobody had ever heard, and which came +into her heart from nowhere. The morning sun shone brightly and seemed +so young, as if it had only just been born; the air was fresh and sweet, +and the evaporating dew cooled her little face. + +When she came to the wood, she met an old man in a green dress. + +"Good morning, Little Bluewing," said the old man, "I am the gardener at +Sunnyglade; come and look at my flowers." + +"Too much honour for me," answered Little Bluewing. + +"Not at all, for you have never ill-used flowers." + +They walked together to the strand and crossed a little bridge, which +led to an islet. + +On the islet was a wonderful garden. Every flower, large and small, grew +there, and everything was in order, just as if the garden had been a +book. + +The old man lived in a house which was built of growing ever-green +trees-pines, fir trees, and junipers; the floor consisted of growing +ever-green shrubs. Moss and lichen grew in the crevices and held them +together. The roof was made entirely of creepers, Virginia creeper, +Caprifolium, and ivy, and it was so thick that not a drop of rain +could come through. A number of bee-hives stood before the door, but +butterflies lived in them instead of bees; just think of the lovely +sight when they swarmed! + +"I don't like torturing bees," explained the old man. "And, moreover, I +consider them not at all pretty; they look like hairy coffee-beans and +sting like adders." + +And then they went into the garden. + +"Now, you may read in the book of nature and learn the secrets and +sensibilities of the plants. But you must not ask questions, only listen +to what I say and answer me.... Now, look here, little one, on this +grey stone something is growing which looks like grey paper. This is the +first thing which grows when the rock becomes damp. It grows mouldy, you +see, and the mould is called lichen. Here are two kinds: one looks like +the horns of a reindeer, it is called reindeer-moss, and the reindeer +feeds on it; and the other is called Iceland-moss, and looks like... +now, what does it look like?" + +"It looks like lungs, anyhow it says so in the natural history book." + +"Quite right; looked at through a magnifying glass, it has exactly that +appearance, and that is how people came to think of using it as a remedy +for all sorts of diseases of the chest. Later, when the lichen has +gathered enough vegetable soil, the mosses appear; they have quite +simple flowers and grow seed. They are not unlike ice-flowers, but they +are also like heather and fir trees and all sorts of other things, for +all plants are related. The wall-moss here looks like a fir tree, but +it has seed cases, like a poppy, only rather more simple. Once moss has +begun to grow an a spot, heather is not very long in coming. And if you +examine heather through a strong magnifying-glass, it is like milk-wort, +Epilobium in Latin or a rhododendron, or like an elm tree, which is +nothing more nor less than a huge nettle. + +"Now, we have a perfect covering for the rocks, and in this mould +everything will grow. Man has domesticated a number of plants, but +nature herself has directed him which to take and how to use their is +so extraordinary as the colour and ornaments which the flowers have +acquired to tell the bees where the honey is. You have often seen an ear +of rye, which shows a baker's implements like a signboard. And if you +look at the flax, the most useful of all the plants, you will have to +admit that it is the plant itself which has taught man to spin. Look +right into the heart of the flower and you will find the filaments wound +round the style like flax round a spindle. And to make her meaning even +more plain, nature has planted a parasite, the bind-weed by its side, +which winds itself round and round the plant up and down, to and fro, +like a weaver's shuttle. And isn't it wonderful that not a man, but +a butterfly, first thought of spinning the flax? People call it +'flax-spinner,' for with its own silk and the leaves of the plant it +weaves little sheets and blankets for its young ones. And so cunning it +is that when flax began to be cultivated, it completely adapted itself +to the new conditions, so that the young ones should be hatched before +the flax was harvested. And now, look at the medicinal herbs! Look at +the large poppy, for instance, fiery red it is, like fever and insanity! +But in the heart of the blossom is a black cross, just like the cross on +the chemist's label which he puts on his poisons. In the middle of +the cross is a Roman vase with little grooves. When these grooves are +pricked the drug runs out, the powerful drug, which will call either +death, or death's gentle brother, sleep. Yes, now you can form an idea +of the generosity and wisdom of nature. + +"And now, let's see about the goldpowder." + +He paused to see whether Little Bluewing was at all curious. But she was +not. + +"And now, let's see about the goldpowder," he repeated. + +Another pause! No, Little Bluewing could hold her tongue, although she +was as not much more than a baby. + +"And now, let's see about the goldpowder," he said for the third time, +"which has flowers like the bird's-eye and leaves like the saxifrage. +That's its distinctive mark, and tells you where water can be found. +The bird's-eye collects dew and water in its leaves, and is in itself a +tiny, clear rivulet; but the saxifrage can break mountain rocks. There +is no spring without a mountain, be the mountain never so distant. This +is what the goldpowder tells all those who can understand its message. +It grows here, on this island, and you shall know the spot, because your +heart is pure. The rich man shall receive water for his parched soul +from your tiny hand, and through you all the island shall be blessed. Go +in peace, my child, and when you come to the wood where the nuts grow, +you will find a silver-linden on your right; at its foot lies a copper +coloured slow-worm, which is not dangerous. It show you the way to the +goldpowder. But before you go, you must give the old man a kiss, that is +to say, if you want to." + +Little Bluewing held up her lips and kissed the old man, and immediately +his face changed and he looked fifty years younger. + +"I have kissed a child, I have grown young again," said the gardener. +"You owe me no thanks. Farewell!" + +Little Bluewing went to the wood where the nuts grew. The silver-linden +was rustling in the breeze, and the humble-bees hummed and buzzed round +its blossoms. The slow-worm was really there, although its copper looked +a bit rusty. + +"Hallo! There is Little Bluewing, who is to have the goldpowder," said +the copper snake. "Well, you shall have it on three conditions: no to +talk, not to be led astray, not to be inquisitive. Now go straight ahead +and you will find the goldpowder." + +Little Bluewing went straight ahead. On her way she met a woman. + +"Good morning, child," said the woman. "Have you been to see the +gardener at Sunnyglade?" + +"Good morning, woman," said Little Bluewing without stopping. + +"Well, you aren't a gossip," said the woman. + +Next she met a gipsy. + +"Where are you going to?" asked the gipsy. + +"Straight ahead," answered Little Bluewing. + +"Then you won't be led astray," said the gipsy. + +Then she met a milkman. But she could not understand why the horse was +inside the cart and the milkman harnessed to the shafts. + +"Now I shall shy and run away," said the milkman, and gave such a start +that the horse fell out of the cart into the ditch.... "Now I shall +water the rye," he went on, and took the lid off one of his milk cans. + +Little Bluewing thought it strange, but continued her way without giving +him as much as a look. + +"And you aren't curious, either," said the milkman. + +And now Little Bluewing was standing at the foot of the mountain; +the sunbeams fell through the hazel bushes on the green leaves of a +luxurious plant which shone like gold. + +It was the goldpowder. Little Bluewing noticed how it followed the vein +of the spring down the mountain side into the rich man's meadow. + +She belt down and gathered three flowers, put them carefully into her +pinafore and took them home to her father. + +The dragoon put on sword, helmet, and uniform, and went with his little +daughter to the clergyman. And all three went to the rich man. + +"Little Bluewzng has found the goldpowder!" said the clergyman, as soon +as he entered the drawing-room. "And now the whole village will be rich +before long, because it is sure to become a summer resort." + +And it became a summer resort before long; steamers and shop people +arrived; an inn and a post-office were built; a doctor settled on the +island, and a chemist. Gold poured into the village all during the +summer, and that is the story of the goldpowder, which can transform +poverty into wealth. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Midsummer Days and Other Tales, by +August Strindberg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN MIDSUMMER DAYS AND OTHER TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 6694.txt or 6694.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/9/6694/ + +Produced by Nicole Apostola + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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