Twilight Land
by Howard Pyle · English · Gutenberg #47564 · 404,555 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Twilight Land
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Twilight Land
Author: Howard Pyle
Release date: December 7, 2014 [eBook #47564]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47564
Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWILIGHT LAND ***
[Illustration]
Twilight Land
BY
HOWARD PYLE
AUTHOR OF
“THE WONDER CLOCK” “PEPPER AND SALT”
“MEN OF IRON” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
TWILIGHT LAND
Copyright, 1894, by Harper & Brothers
Copyright, 1922, by Mrs. Anne Poole Pyle
Printed in the United States of America
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Table of Contents.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
THE STOOL OF FORTUNE 5
THE TALISMAN OF SOLOMON 29
ILL-LUCK AND THE FIDDLER 77
EMPTY BOTTLES 95
GOOD GIFTS AND A FOOL’S FOLLY 113
THE GOOD OF A FEW WORDS 135
WOMAN’S WIT 169
A PIECE OF GOOD LUCK 195
THE FRUIT OF HAPPINESS 235
NOT A PIN TO CHOOSE 259
MUCH SHALL HAVE MORE AND LITTLE SHALL HAVE LESS 299
WISDOM’S WAGES AND FOLLY’S PAY 313
THE ENCHANTED ISLAND 337
ALL THINGS ARE AS FATE WILLS 365
WHERE TO LAY THE BLAME 387
THE SALT OF LIFE 405
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_Introduction_
_I found myself in Twilight Land._
_How I ever got there I cannot tell, but there I was in Twilight
Land._
_What is Twilight Land? It is a wonderful, wonderful place where no
sun shines to scorch your back as you jog along the way, where no
rain falls to make the road muddy and hard to travel, where no wind
blows the dust into your eyes or the chill into your marrow. Where
all is sweet and quiet and ready to go to bed._
_Where is Twilight Land? Ah! that I cannot tell you. You will
either have to ask your mother or find it for yourself._
_There I was in Twilight Land. The birds were singing their
good-night song, and the little frogs were piping “peet, peet.” The
sky overhead was full of still brightness, and the moon in the east
hung in the purple gray like a great bubble as yellow as gold. All
the air was full of the smell of growing things. The high-road was
gray, and the trees were dark._
_I drifted along the road as a soap-bubble floats before the wind,
or as a body floats in a dream. I floated along and I floated along
past the trees, past the bushes, past the mill-pond, past the mill
where the old miller stood at the door looking at me._
_I floated on, and there was the Inn, and it was the Sign of Mother
Goose._
_The sign hung on a pole, and on it was painted a picture of Mother
Goose with her gray gander._
_It was to the Inn I wished to come._
_I floated on, and I would have floated past the Inn, and perhaps
have gotten into the Land of Never-Come-Back-Again, only I caught
at the branch of an apple-tree, and so I stopped myself, though the
apple-blossoms came falling down like pink and white snowflakes._
_The earth and the air and the sky were all still, just as it is
at twilight, and I heard them laughing and talking in the tap-room
of the Inn of the Sign of Mother Goose--the clinking of glasses,
and the rattling and clatter of knives and forks and plates and
dishes. That was where I wished to go._
_So in I went. Mother Goose herself opened the door, and there I
was._
_The room was all full of twilight; but there they sat, every
one of them. I did not count them, but there were ever so many:
Aladdin, and Ali Baba, and Fortunatis, and Jack-the-Giant-Killer,
and Doctor Faustus, and Bidpai, and Cinderella, and Patient
Grizzle, and the Soldier who cheated the Devil, and St. George,
and Hans in Luck, who traded and traded his lump of gold until he
had only an empty churn to show for it; and there was Sindbad the
Sailor, and the Tailor who killed seven flies at a blow, and the
Fisherman who fished up the Genie, and the Lad who fiddled for the
Jew in the bramble-bush, and the Blacksmith who made Death sit in
his apple-tree, and Boots, who always marries the Princess, whether
he wants to or not--a rag-tag lot as ever you saw in your life,
gathered from every place, and brought together in Twilight Land._
_Each one of them was telling a story, and now it was the turn of
the Soldier who cheated the Devil._
* * * * *
_“I WILL tell you,” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil, “a
story of a friend of mine.”_
_“Take a fresh pipe of tobacco,” said St. George._
_“Thank you, I will,” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil._
_He filled his long pipe full of tobacco, and then he tilted it
upside down and sucked in the light of the candle._
_Puff! puff! puff! and a cloud of smoke went up about his head, so
that you could just see his red nose shining through it, and his
bright eyes twinkling in the midst of the smoke-wreath, like two
stars through a thin cloud on a summer night._
_“I’ll tell you,” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil, “the
story of a friend of mine. ’Tis every word of it just as true as
that I myself cheated the Devil.”_
_He took a drink from his mug of beer, and then he began._
_“’Tis called,” said he_--
[Illustration]
The Stool of Fortune
Once upon a time there came a soldier marching along the road,
kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step--as strapping and
merry and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to see in a summer
day. Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as he jogged along,
though he carried a heavy musket over his shoulder and though the
sun shone hot and strong and there was never a tree in sight to
give him a bit of shelter.
At last he came in sight of the King’s Town and to a great field of
stocks and stones, and there sat a little old man as withered and
brown as a dead leaf, and clad all in scarlet from head to foot.
“Ho! soldier,” said he, “are you a good shot?”
“Aye,” said the soldier, “that is my trade.”
“Would you like to earn a dollar by shooting off your musket for
me?”
“Aye,” said the soldier, “that is my trade also.”
“Very well, then,” said the little man in red, “here is a silver
button to drop into your gun instead of a bullet. Wait you here,
and about sunset there will come a great black bird flying. In one
claw it carries a feather cap and in the other a round stone. Shoot
me the silver button at that bird, and if your aim is good it will
drop the feather cap and the pebble. Bring them to me to the great
town-gate and I will pay you a dollar for your trouble.”
“Very well,” said the soldier, “shooting my gun is a job that fits
me like an old coat.” So, down he sat and the old man went his way.
Well, there he sat and sat and sat and sat until the sun touched
the rim of the ground, and then, just as the old man said, there
came flying a great black bird as silent as night. The soldier did
not tarry to look or to think. As the bird flew by up came the
gun to his shoulder, squint went his eye along the barrel--Puff!
Bang!--
[Illustration]
I vow and declare that if the shot he fired had cracked the sky he
could not have been more frightened. The great black bird gave a
yell so terrible that it curdled the very blood in his veins and
made his hair stand upon end. Away it flew like a flash--a bird
no longer, but a great, black demon, smoking and smelling most
horribly of brimstone, and when the soldier gathered his wits,
there lay the feather cap and a little, round, black stone upon the
ground.
“Well,” said the soldier, “it is little wonder that the old man had
no liking to shoot at such game as that.” And thereupon he popped
the feather cap into one pocket and the round stone into another,
and shouldering his musket marched away until he reached the
town-gate, and there was the old man waiting for him.
“Did you shoot the bird?” said he.
“I did,” said the soldier.
“And did you get the cap and the round stone?”
“I did.”
“Then here is your dollar.”
“Wait a bit,” said the soldier, “I shot greater game that time
than I bargained for, and so it’s ten dollars and not one you shall
pay me before you lay finger upon the feather cap and the little
stone.”
“Very well,” said the old man, “here are ten dollars.”
“Ho! ho!” thought the soldier, “is that the way the wind
blows?”--“Did I say ten dollars?” said he; “’twas a hundred
dollars I meant.”
At that the old man frowned until his eyes shone green. “Very
well,” said he, “if it is a hundred dollars you want, you will have
to come home with me, for I have not so much with me.” Thereupon he
entered the town with the soldier at his heels.
Up one street he went and down another, until at last he came to
a great, black, ancient, ramshackle house; and that was where he
lived. In he walked without so much as a rap at the door, and so
led the way to a great room with furnaces and books and bottles
and jars and dust and cobwebs, and three grinning skulls upon the
mantelpiece, each with a candle stuck atop of it, and there he left
the soldier while he went to get the hundred dollars.
The soldier sat him down upon a three-legged stool in the corner
and began staring about him; and he liked the looks of the place as
little as any he had seen in all of his life, for it smelled musty
and dusty, it did: the three skulls grinned at him, and he began to
think that the little old man was no better than he should be. “I
wish,” says he, at last, “that instead of being here I might be
well out of my scrape and in a safe place.”
[Illustration]
Now the little old man in scarlet was a great magician, and there
was little or nothing in that house that had not some magic about
it, and of all things the three-legged stool had been conjured the
most.
“I wish that instead of being here I might be well out of my
scrape, and in a safe place.” That was what the soldier said; and
hardly had the words left his lips when--whisk! whir!--away flew
the stool through the window, so suddenly that the soldier had only
just time enough to gripe it tight by the legs to save himself from
falling. Whir! whiz!--away it flew like a bullet. Up and up it
went--so high in the air that the earth below looked like a black
blanket spread out in the night; and then down it came again,
with the soldier still griping tight to the legs, until at last it
settled as light as a feather upon a balcony of the king’s palace;
and when the soldier caught his wind again he found himself without
a hat, and with hardly any wits in his head.
There he sat upon the stool for a long time without daring to move,
for he did not know what might happen to him next. There he sat and
sat, and by-and-by his ears got cold in the night air, and then
he noticed for the first time that he had lost his head gear, and
bethought himself of the feather cap in his pocket. So out he drew
it and clapped it upon his head, and then--lo and behold!--he found
he had become as invisible as thin air--not a shred or a hair of
him could be seen. “Well!” said he, “here is another wonder, but I
am safe now at any rate.” And up he got to find some place not so
cool as where he sat.
He stepped in at an open window, and there he found himself in
a beautiful room, hung with cloth of silver and blue, and with
chairs and tables of white and gold; dozens and scores of waxlights
shone like so many stars, and lit every crack and cranny as bright
as day, and there at one end of the room upon a couch, with her
eyelids closed and fast asleep, lay the prettiest princess that
ever the sun shone upon. The soldier stood and looked and looked
at her, and looked and looked at her, until his heart melted within
him like soft butter, and then he kissed her.
“Who is that?” said the princess, starting up, wide-awake, but not
a soul could she see, because the soldier had the feather cap upon
his head.
“Who is that?” said she again; and then the soldier answered, but
without taking the feather cap from his head.
“It is I,” said he, “and I am King of the Wind, and ten times
greater than the greatest of kings here below. One day I saw you
walking in your garden and fell in love with you, and now I have
come to ask you if you will marry me and be my wife?”
“But how can I marry you?” said the princess, “without seeing you?”
“You shall see me,” said the soldier, “all in good time. Three days
from now I will come again, and will show myself to you, but just
now it cannot be. But if I come, will you marry me?”
“Yes I will,” said the princess, “for I like the way you talk--that
I do!”
Thereupon the soldier kissed her and said good-bye, and then
stepped out of the window as he had stepped in. He sat him down
upon his three-legged stool. “I wish,” said he, “to be carried to
such and such a tavern.” For he had been in that town before, and
knew the places where good living was to be had.
[Illustration]
Whir! whiz! Away flew the stool as high and higher than it had
flown before, and then down it came again, and down and down until
it lit as light as a feather in the street before the tavern
door. The soldier tucked his feather cap in his pocket, and the
three-legged stool under his arm, and in he went and ordered a pot
of beer and some white bread and cheese.
Meantime, at the king’s palace was such a gossiping and such a
hubbub as had not been heard there for many a day; for the pretty
princess was not slow in telling how the invisible King of the Wind
had come and asked her to marry him; and some said it was true and
some said it was not true, and everybody wondered and talked, and
told their own notions of the matter. But all agreed that three
days would show whether what had been told was true or no.
As for the soldier, he knew no more how to do what he had promised
to do than my grandmother’s cat; for where was he to get clothes
fine enough for the King of the Wind to wear? So there he sat on
his three-legged stool thinking and thinking, and if he had known
all that I know he would not have given two turns of his wit upon
it. “I wish,” says he, at last--“I wish that this stool could help
me now as well as it can carry me through the sky. I wish,” says
he, “that I had a suit of clothes such as the King of the Wind
might really wear.”
The wonders of the three-legged stool were wonders indeed!
Hardly had the words left the soldier’s lips when down came
something tumbling about his ears from up in the air; and what
should it be but just such a suit of clothes as he had in his
mind--all crusted over with gold and silver and jewels.
“Well,” says the soldier, as soon as he had got over his wonder
again, “I would rather sit upon this stool than any I ever saw.”
And so would I, if I had been in his place, and had a few minutes
to think of all that I wanted.
So he found out the trick of the stool, and after that wishing
and having were easy enough, and by the time the three days were
ended the real King of the Wind himself could not have cut a finer
figure. Then down sat the soldier upon his stool, and wished
himself at the king’s palace. Away he flew through the air, and
by-and-by there he was, just where he had been before. He put his
feather cap upon his head, and stepped in through the window, and
there he found the princess with her father, the king, and her
mother, the queen, and all the great lords and nobles waiting for
his coming; but never a stitch nor a hair did they see of him until
he stood in the very midst of them all. Then he whipped the feather
cap off of his head, and there he was, shining with silver and gold
and glistening with jewels--such a sight as man’s eyes never saw
before.
“Take her,” said the king, “she is yours.” And the soldier looked
so handsome in his fine clothes that the princess was as glad to
hear those words as any she had ever listened to in all of her life.
“You shall,” said the king, “be married to-morrow.”
“Very well,” said the soldier. “Only give me a plot of ground to
build a palace upon that shall be fit for the wife of the King of
the Wind to live in.”
“You shall have it,” said the king, “and it shall be the great
parade ground back of the palace, which is so wide and long that
all my army can march round and round in it without getting into
its own way; and that ought to be big enough.”
“Yes,” said the soldier, “it is.” Thereupon he put on his feather
cap and disappeared from the sight of all as quickly as one might
snuff out a candle.
He mounted his three-legged stool and away he flew through the air
until he had come again to the tavern where he was lodging. There
he sat him down and began to churn his thoughts, and the butter
he made was worth the having, I can tell you. He wished for a
grand palace of white marble, and then he wished for all sorts of
things to fill it--the finest that could be had. Then he wished for
servants in clothes of gold and silver, and then he wished for fine
horses and gilded coaches. Then he wished for gardens and orchards
and lawns and flower-plats and fountains, and all kinds and sorts
of things, until the sweat ran down his face from hard thinking and
wishing. And as he thought and wished, all the things he thought
and wished for grew up like soap-bubbles from nothing at all.
Then, when day began to break, he wished himself with his fine
clothes to be in the palace that his own wits had made, and away he
flew through the air until he had come there safe and sound.
But when the sun rose and shone down upon the beautiful palace and
all the gardens and orchards around it, the king and queen and all
the court stood dumb with wonder at the sight. Then, as they stood
staring, the gates opened and out came the soldier riding in his
gilded coach with his servants in silver and gold marching beside
him, and such a sight the daylight never looked upon before that
day.
Well, the princess and the soldier were married, and if no couple
had ever been happy in the world before, they were then. Nothing
was heard but feasting and merrymaking, and at night all the sky
was lit with fireworks. Such a wedding had never been before, and
all the world was glad that it had happened.
That is, all the world but one; that one was the old man dressed
in scarlet that the soldier had met when he first came to town.
While all the rest were in the hubbub of rejoicing, he put on his
thinking-cap, and by-and-by began to see pretty well how things
lay, and that, as they say in our town, there was a fly in the
milk-jug. “Ho, ho!” thought he, “so the soldier has found out all
about the three-legged stool, has he? Well, I will just put a spoke
into his wheel for him.” And so he began to watch for his chance to
do the soldier an ill turn.
Now, a week or two after the wedding, and after all the gay doings
had ended, a grand hunt was declared, and the king and his new
son-in-law and all the court went to it. That was just such a
chance as the old magician had been waiting for; so the night
before the hunting-party returned he climbed the walls of the
garden, and so came to the wonderful palace that the soldier had
built out of nothing at all, and there stood three men keeping
guard so that no one might enter.
[Illustration]
But little that troubled the magician. He began to mutter spells
and strange words, and all of a sudden he was gone, and in his
place was a great black ant, for he had changed himself into an
ant. In he ran through a crack of the door (and mischief has got
into many a man’s house through a smaller hole for the matter of
that). In and out ran the ant through one room and another, and
up and down and here and there, until at last in a far-away part
of the magic palace he found the three-legged stool, and if I
had been in the soldier’s place I would have chopped it up into
kindling-wood after I had gotten all that I wanted. But there it
was, and in an instant the magician resumed his own shape. Down he
sat him upon the stool. “I wish,” said he, “that this palace and
the princess and all who are within it, together with its orchards
and its lawns and its gardens and everything, may be removed to
such and such a country, upon the other side of the earth.”
And as the stool had obeyed the soldier, so everything was done now
just as the magician said.
The next morning back came the hunting-party, and as they rode over
the hill--lo and behold hold!--there lay stretched out the great
parade ground in which the king’s armies used to march around and
around, and the land was as bare as the palm of my hand. Not a
stick or a stone of the palace was left; not a leaf or a blade of
the orchards or gardens was to be seen.
The soldier sat as dumb as a fish, and the king stared with
eyes and mouth wide open. “Where is the palace, and where is my
daughter?” said he, at last, finding words and wit.
“I do not know,” said the soldier.
The king’s face grew as black as thunder. “You do not know?” he
said, “then you must find out. Seize the traitor!” he cried.
But that was easier said than done, for, quick as a wink, as they
came to lay hold of him, the soldier whisked the feather cap from
his pocket and clapped it upon his head, and then they might as
well have hoped to find the south wind in winter as to find him.
But though he got safe away from that trouble he was deep enough in
the dumps, you may be sure of that. Away he went, out into the wide
world, leaving that town behind him. Away he went, until by-and-by
he came to a great forest, and for three days he travelled on and
on--he knew not whither. On the third night, as he sat beside a
fire which he had built to keep him warm, he suddenly bethought
himself of the little round stone which had dropped from the bird’s
claw, and which he still had in his pocket. “Why should it not
also help me,” said he, “for there must be some wonder about it.”
So he brought it out, and sat looking at it and looking at it, but
he could make nothing of it for the life of him. Nevertheless, it
might have some wishing power about it, like the magic stool. “I
wish,” said the soldier, “that I might get out of this scrape.”
That is what we have all wished many and many a time in a like
case; but just now it did the soldier no more good to wish than it
does good for the rest of us. “Bah!” said he, “it is nothing but a
black stone after all.” And then he threw it into the fire.
Puff! Bang! Away flew the embers upon every side, and back tumbled
the soldier, and there in the middle of the flame stood just such a
grim, black being as he had one time shot at with the silver button.
As for the poor soldier, he just lay flat on his back and stared
with eyes like saucers, for he thought that his end had come for
sure.
“What are my lord’s commands?” said the being, in a voice that
shook the marrow of the soldier’s bones.
“Who are you?” said the soldier.
[Illustration]
“I am the spirit of the stone,” said the being. “You have heated it
in the flame, and I am here. Whatever you command I must obey.”
“Say you so?” cried the soldier, scrambling to his feet. “Very
well, then, just carry me to where I may find my wife and my palace
again.”
Without a word the spirit of the stone snatched the soldier up, and
flew away with him swifter than the wind. Over forest, over field,
over mountain and over valley he flew, until at last, just at the
crack of day, he set him down in front of his own palace gate in
the far country where the magician had transported it.
After that the soldier knew his way quickly enough. He clapped his
feather cap upon his head and into the palace he went, and from one
room to another, until at last he came to where the princess sat
weeping and wailing, with her pretty eyes red from long crying.
Then the soldier took off his cap again, and you may guess what
sounds of rejoicing followed. They sat down beside one another, and
after the soldier had eaten, the princess told him all that had
happened to her; how the magician had found the stool, and how he
had transported the palace to this far-away land; how he came every
day and begged her to marry him--which she would rather die than
do.
To all this the soldier listened, and when she had ended her story
he bade her to dry her tears, for, after all, the jug was only
cracked, and not past mending. Then he told her that when the
sorcerer came again that day she should say so and so and so and
so, and that he would be by to help her with his feather cap upon
his head.
After that they sat talking together as happy as two turtle-doves,
until the magician’s foot was heard on the stairs. And then the
soldier clapped his feather cap upon his head just as the door
opened.
“Snuff, snuff!” said the magician, sniffing the air, “here is a
smell of Christian blood.”
“Yes,” said the princess, “that is so; there came a peddler to-day,
but after all he did not stay long.”
“He’d better not come again,” said the magician, “or it will be the
worse for him. But tell me, will you marry me?”
“No,” said the princess, “I shall not marry you until you can prove
yourself to be a greater man than my husband.”
“Pooh!” said the magician, “that will be easy enough to prove; tell
me how you would have me do so and I will do it.”
“Very well,” said the princess, “then let me see you change
yourself into a lion. If you can do that I may perhaps believe you
to be as great as my husband.”
“It shall,” said the magician, “be as you say.” He began to mutter
spells and strange words, and then all of a sudden he was gone, and
in his place there stood a lion with bristling mane and flaming
eyes--a sight fit of itself to kill a body with terror.
“That will do!” cried the princess, quaking and trembling at the
sight, and thereupon the magician took his own shape again.
“Now,” said he, “do you believe that I am as great as the poor
soldier?”
“Not yet,” said the princess; “I have seen how big you can make
yourself, now I wish to see how little you can become. Let me see
you change yourself into a mouse.”
“So be it,” said the magician, and began again to mutter his
spells. Then all of a sudden he was gone just as he was gone
before, and in his place was a little mouse sitting up and looking
at the princess with a pair of eyes like glass beads.
But he did not sit there long. This was what the soldier had
planned for, and all the while he had been standing by with his
feather hat upon his head. Up he raised his foot, and down he set
it upon the mouse.
Crunch!--that was an end of the magician.
After that all was clear sailing; the soldier hunted up the
three-legged stool and down he sat upon it, and by dint of no more
than just a little wishing, back flew palace and garden and all
through the air again to the place whence it came.
I do not know whether the old king ever believed again that
his son-in-law was the King of the Wind; anyhow, all was peace
and friendliness thereafter, for when a body can sit upon a
three-legged stool and wish to such good purpose as the soldier
wished, a body is just as good as a king, and a good deal better,
to my mind.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
_The Soldier who cheated the Devil looked into his pipe; it was
nearly out. He puffed and puffed and the coal glowed brighter, and
fresh clouds of smoke rolled up into the air. Little Brown Betty
came and refilled, from a crock of brown foaming ale, the mug which
he had emptied. The Soldier who had cheated the Devil looked up at
her and winked one eye._
_“Now,” said St. George, “it is the turn of yonder old man,” and he
pointed, as he spoke, with the stem of his pipe towards old Bidpai,
who sat with closed eyes meditating inside of himself._
_The old man opened his eyes, the whites of which were as yellow as
saffron, and wrinkled his face into innumerable cracks and lines.
Then he closed his eyes again; then he opened them again; then he
cleared his throat and began_: “There was once upon a time a man
whom other men called Aben Hassen the Wise--”
_“One moment,” said Ali Baba; “will you not tell us what the story
is about?”_
_Old Bidpai looked at him and stroked his long white beard. “It
is,” said he, “about--”_
[Illustration]
The Talisman _of_ Solomon.
There was once upon a time a man whom other men called Aben Hassen
the Wise. He had read a thousand books of magic, and knew all that
the ancients or moderns had to tell of the hidden arts.
The King of the Demons of the Earth, a great and hideous monster,
named Zadok, was his servant, and came and went as Aben Hassen the
Wise ordered, and did as he bade. After Aben Hassen learned all
that it was possible for man to know, he said to himself, “Now I
will take my ease and enjoy my life.” So he called the Demon Zadok
to him, and said to the monster, “I have read in my books that
there is a treasure that was one time hidden by the ancient kings
of Egypt--a treasure such as the eyes of man never saw before or
since their day. Is that true?”
“It is true,” said the Demon.
“Then I command thee to take me to that treasure and to show it to
me,” said Aben Hassen the Wise.
“It shall be done,” said the Demon; and thereupon he caught up the
Wise Man and transported him across mountain and valley, across
land and sea, until he brought him to a country known as the “Land
of the Black Isles,” where the treasure of the ancient kings was
hidden. The Demon showed the Magician the treasure, and it was a
sight such as man had never looked upon before or since the days
that the dark, ancient ones hid it. With his treasure Aben Hassen
built himself palaces and gardens and paradises such as the world
never saw before. He lived like an emperor, and the fame of his
doings rang through all the four corners of the earth.
Now the queen of the Black Isles was the most beautiful woman in
the world, but she was as cruel and wicked and cunning as she was
beautiful. No man that looked upon her could help loving her; for
not only was she as beautiful as a dream, but her beauty was of
that sort that it bewitched a man in spite of himself.
One day the queen sent for Aben Hassen the Wise. “Tell me,” said
she, “is it true that men say of you that you have discovered a
hidden treasure such as the world never saw before?” And she looked
at Aben Hassen so that his wisdom all crumbled away like sand, and
he became just as foolish as other men.
“Yes,” said he, “it is true.”
Aben Hassen the Wise spent all that day with the queen, and when
he left the palace he was like a man drunk and dizzy with love.
Moreover, he had promised to show the queen the hidden treasure the
next day.
As Aben Hassen, like a man in a dream, walked towards his own
house, he met an old man standing at the corner of the street. The
old man had a talisman that hung dangling from a chain, and which
he offered for sale. When Aben Hassen saw the talisman he knew very
well what it was--that it was the famous talisman of King Solomon
the Wise. If he who possessed the talisman asked it to speak, it
would tell that man both what to do and what not to do.
The Wise Man bought the talisman for three pieces of silver (and
wisdom has been sold for less than that many a time), and as soon
as he had the talisman in his hands he hurried home with it and
locked himself in a room.
“Tell me,” said the Wise Man to the Talisman, “shall I marry the
beautiful queen of the Black Isles?”
“Fly, while there is yet time to escape!” said the Talisman; “but
go not near the queen again, for she seeks to destroy thy life.”
“But tell me, O Talisman!” said the Wise Man, “what then shall I do
with all that vast treasure of the kings of Egypt?”
“Fly from it while there is yet chance to escape!” said the
Talisman; “but go not into the treasure-house again, for in the
farther door, where thou hast not yet looked, is that which will
destroy him who possesses the treasure.”
“But Zadok,” said Aben Hassen; “what of Zadok?”
“Fly from the monster while there is yet time to escape,” said the
Talisman, “and have no more to do with thy Demon slave, for already
he is weaving a net of death and destruction about thy feet.”
The Wise Man sat all that night pondering and thinking upon what
the Talisman had said. When morning came he washed and dressed
himself, and called the Demon Zadok to him. “Zadok,” said he,
“carry me to the palace of the queen.” In the twinkling of an eye
the Demon transported him to the steps of the palace.
[Illustration]
“Zadok,” said the Wise Man, “give me the staff of life and death;”
and the Demon brought from under his clothes a wand, one-half of
which was of silver and one-half of which was of gold. The Wise Man
touched the steps of the palace with the silver end of the staff.
Instantly all the sound and hum of life was hushed. The thread of
life was cut by the knife of silence, and in a moment all was as
still as death.
“Zadok,” said the Wise Man, “transport me to the treasure-house of
the king of Egypt.” And instantly the Demon had transported him
thither. The Wise Man drew a circle upon the earth. “No one,” said
he, “shall have power to enter here but the master of Zadok, the
King of the Demons of the Earth.”
“And now, Zadok,” said he, “I command thee to transport me to
India, and as far from here as thou canst.” Instantly the Demon
did as he was commanded; and of all the treasure that he had, the
Wise Man took nothing with him but a jar of golden money and a jar
of silver money. As soon as the Wise Man stood upon the ground of
India, he drew from beneath his robe a little jar of glass.
“Zadok,” said he, “I command thee to enter this jar.”
Then the Demon knew that now his turn had come. He besought and
implored the Wise Man to have mercy upon him; but it was all in
vain. Then the Demon roared and bellowed till the earth shook and
the sky grew dark overhead. But all was of no avail; into the jar
he must go, and into the jar he went. Then the Wise Man stoppered
the jar and sealed it. He wrote an inscription of warning upon it,
and then he buried it in the ground.
“Now,” said Aben Hassen the Wise to the Talisman of Solomon, “have
I done everything that I should?”
“No,” said the Talisman, “thou shouldst not have brought the jar
of golden money and the jar of silver money with thee; for that
which is evil in the greatest is evil in the least. Thou fool! The
treasure is cursed! cast it all from thee while there is yet time.”
“Yes, I will do that, too,” said the Wise Man. So he buried in the
earth the jar of gold and the jar of silver that he had brought
with him, and then he stamped the mould down upon it. After that
the Wise Man began his life all over again. He bought, and he
sold, and he traded, and by-and-by he became rich. Then he built
himself a great house, and in the foundation he laid the jar in
which the Demon was bottled.
Then he married a young and handsome wife. By-and-by the wife bore
him a son, and then she died.
This son was the pride of his father’s heart; but he was as vain
and foolish as his father was wise, so that all men called him Aben
Hassen the Fool, as they called the father Aben Hassen the Wise.
Then one day death came and called the old man, and he left his son
all that belonged to him--even the Talisman of Solomon.
* * * * *
Young Aben Hassen the Fool had never seen so much money as now
belonged to him. It seemed to him that there was nothing in the
world he could not enjoy. He found friends by the dozens and
scores, and everybody seemed to be very fond of him.
He asked no questions of the Talisman of Solomon, for to his mind
there was no need of being both wise and rich. So he began enjoying
himself with his new friends. Day and night there was feasting and
drinking and singing and dancing and merrymaking and carousing;
and the money that the old man had made by trading and wise living
poured out like water through a sieve.
Then, one day came an end to all this junketing, and nothing
remained to the young spendthrift of all the wealth that his father
had left him. Then the officers of the law came down upon him and
seized all that was left of the fine things, and his fair-weather
friends flew away from his troubles like flies from vinegar. Then
the young man began to think of the Talisman of Wisdom. For it was
with him as it is with so many of us: When folly has emptied the
platter, wisdom is called in to pick the bones.
“Tell me,” said the young man to the Talisman of Solomon, “what
shall I do, now that everything is gone?”
“Go,” said the Talisman of Solomon, “and work as thy father has
worked before thee. Advise with me and become prosperous and
contented, but do not go dig under the cherry-tree in the garden.”
“Why should I not dig under the cherry-tree in the garden?” says
the young man; “I will see what is there, at any rate.”
So he straightway took a spade and went out into the garden, where
the Talisman had told him not to go. He dug and dug under the
cherry-tree, and by-and-by his spade struck something hard. It was
a vessel of brass, and it was full of silver money. Upon the lid of
the vessel were these words, engraved in the handwriting of the old
man who had died:
“My son, this vessel full of silver has been brought from the
treasure-house of the ancient kings of Egypt. Take this, then, that
thou findest; advise with the Talisman; be wise and prosper.”
“And they call that the Talisman of Wisdom,” said the young man.
“If I had listened to it I never would have found this treasure.”
The next day he began to spend the money he had found, and his
friends soon gathered around him again.
The vessel of silver money lasted a week, and then it was all gone;
not a single piece was left.
Then the young man bethought himself again of the Talisman of
Solomon. “What shall I do now,” said he, “to save myself from
ruin?”
“Earn thy bread with honest labor,” said the Talisman, “and I will
teach thee how to prosper; but do not dig beneath the fig-tree that
stands by the fountain in the garden.”
[Illustration]
The young man did not tarry long after he heard what the Talisman
had said. He seized a spade and hurried away to the fig-tree in the
garden as fast as he could run. He dug and dug, and by-and-by his
spade struck something hard. It was a copper vessel, and it was
filled with gold money. Upon the lid of the vessel was engraved
these words in the handwriting of the old man who had gone: “My
son, my son,” they said, “thou hast been warned once; be warned
again. The gold money in this vessel has been brought from the
treasure-house of the ancient kings of Egypt. Take it; be advised
by the Talisman of Solomon; be wise and prosper.”
“And to think that if I had listened to the Talisman, I would never
have found this,” said the young man.
The gold in the vessel lasted maybe for a month of jollity and
merrymaking, but at the end of that time there was nothing
left--not a copper farthing.
“Tell me,” said the young man to the Talisman, “what shall I do
now?”
“Thou fool,” said the Talisman, “go sweat and toil, but do not go
down into the vault beneath this house. There in the vault is a red
stone built into the wall. The red stone turns upon a pivot. Behind
the stone is a hollow space. As thou wouldst save thy life from
peril, go not near it!”
“Hear that now,” says the young man, “first, this Talisman told
me not to go, and I found silver. Then it told me not to go, and
I found gold; now it tells me not to go--perhaps I shall find
precious stones enough for a king’s ransom.”
He lit a lantern and went down into the vault beneath the house.
There, as the Talisman had said, was the red stone built into the
wall. He pressed the stone, and it turned upon its pivot as the
Talisman had said it would turn. Within was a hollow space, as
the Talisman said there would be. In the hollow space there was
a casket of silver. The young man snatched it up, and his hands
trembled for joy.
Upon the lid of the box were these words in the father’s
handwriting, written in letters as red as blood: “Fool, fool! Thou
hast been a fool once, thou hast been a fool twice; be not a fool
for a third time. Restore this casket whence it was taken, and
depart.”
“I will see what is in the box, at any rate,” said the young man.
He opened it. There was nothing in it but a hollow glass jar the
size of an egg. The young man took the jar from the box; it was as
hot as fire. He cried out and let it fall. The jar burst upon the
floor with a crack of thunder; the house shook and rocked, and the
dust flew about in clouds. Then all was still; and when Aben Hassen
the Fool could see through the cloud of terror that enveloped him
he beheld a great, tall, hideous being as black as ink, and with
eyes that shone like coals of fire.
When the young man saw that terrible creature his tongue clave to
the roof of his mouth, and his knees smote together with fear, for
he thought that his end had now certainly come.
“Who are you?” he croaked, as soon as he could find his voice.
“I am the King of the Demons of the Earth, and my name is Zadok,”
answered the being. “I was once thy father’s slave, and now I am
thine, thou being his son. When thou speakest I must obey, and
whatever thou commandest me to do that I must do.”
“For instance, what can you do for me?” said the young man.
“I can do whatsoever you ask me; I can make you rich.”
“You can make me rich?”
“Yes, I can make you richer than a king.”
“Then make me rich as soon as you can,” said Aben Hassen the Fool,
“and that is all that I shall ask of you now.”
“It shall be done,” said the Demon; “spend all that thou canst
spend, and thou shalt always have more. Has my lord any further
commands for his slave?”
“No,” said the young man, “there is nothing more; you may go now.”
And thereupon the Demon vanished like a flash.
“And to think,” said the young man, as he came up out of the
vault--“and to think that all this I should never have found if I
had obeyed the Talisman.”
[Illustration]
Such riches were never seen in that land as the young man now
possessed. There was no end to the treasure that poured in upon
him. He lived like an emperor. He built a palace more splendid
than the palace of the king. He laid out vast gardens of the most
exquisite beauty, in which there were fountains as white as snow,
trees of rare fruit and flowers that filled all the air with their
perfume, summer-houses of alabaster and ebony.
Every one who visited him was received like a prince, entertained
like a king, given a present fit for an emperor, and sent away
happy. The fame of all these things went out through all the land,
and every one talked of him and the magnificence that surrounded
him.
It came at last to the ears of the king himself, and one day he
said to his minister, “Let us go and see with our own eyes if all
the things reported of this merchant’s son are true.”
So the king and his minister disguised themselves as foreign
merchants, and went that evening to the palace where the young man
lived. A servant dressed in clothes of gold and silver cloth stood
at the door, and called to them to come in and be made welcome.
He led them in, and to a chamber lit with perfumed lamps of gold.
Then six black slaves took them in charge and led them to a bath
of white marble. They were bathed in perfumed water and dried
with towels of fine linen. When they came forth they were clad in
clothes of cloth of silver, stiff with gold and jewels. Then twelve
handsome white slaves led them through a vast and splendid hall to
a banqueting-room.
When they entered they were deafened with the noise of carousing
and merrymaking.
Aben Hassen the Fool sat at the head of the table upon a throne of
gold, with a canopy of gold above his head. When he saw the king
and the minister enter, he beckoned to them to come and sit beside
him. He showed them special favor because they were strangers, and
special servants waited upon them.
The king and his minister had never seen anything like what they
then saw. They could hardly believe it was not all magic and
enchantment. At the end of the feast each of the guests was given
a present of great value, and was sent away rejoicing. The king
received a pearl as big as a marble; the minister a cup of wrought
gold.
The next morning the king and the prime-minister were talking
over what they had seen. “Sire,” said the prime-minister, “I have
no doubt but that the young man has discovered some vast hidden
treasure. Now, according to the laws of this kingdom, the half
of any treasure that is discovered shall belong to the king’s
treasury. If I were in your place I would send for this young man
and compel him to tell me whence comes all this vast wealth.”
“That is true,” said the king; “I had not thought of that before.
The young man shall tell me all about it.”
So they sent a royal guard and brought the young man to the king’s
palace. When the young man saw in the king and the prime-minister
his guests of the night before, whom he had thought to be only
foreign merchants, he fell on his face and kissed the ground before
the throne. But the king spoke to him kindly, and raised him up and
sat him on the seat beside him. They talked for a while concerning
different things, and then the king said at last, “Tell me, my
friend, whence comes all the inestimable wealth that you must
possess to allow you to live as you do?”
“Sire,” said the young man, “I cannot tell you whence it comes. I
can only tell you that it is given to me.”
[Illustration]
The king frowned. “You cannot tell,” said he; “you must tell. It is
for that that I have sent for you, and you must tell me.”
Then the young man began to be frightened. “I beseech you,” said
he, “do not ask me whence it comes. I cannot tell you.”
Then the king’s brows grew as black as thunder. “What!” cried
he, “do you dare to bandy words with me? I know that you have
discovered some treasure. Tell me upon the instant where it is; for
the half of it, by the laws of the land, belongs to me, and I will
have it.”
At the king’s words Aben Hassen the Fool fell on his knees. “Sire,”
said he, “I will tell you all the truth. There is a demon named
Zadok--a monster as black as a coal. He is my slave, and it is he
that brings me all the treasure that I enjoy.” The king thought
nothing else than that Aben Hassen the Fool was trying to deceive
him. He laughed; he was very angry. “What,” cried he, “do you amuse
me by such an absurd and unbelievable tale? Now I am more than
ever sure that you have discovered a treasure and that you wish
to keep the knowledge of it from me, knowing, as you do, that the
one-half of it by law belongs to me. Take him away!” cried he to
his attendants. “Give him fifty lashes, and throw him into prison.
He shall stay there and have fifty lashes every day until he tells
me where his wealth is hidden.”
It was done as the king said, and by-and-by Aben Hassen the Fool
lay in the prison, smarting and sore with the whipping he had had.
Then he began again to think of the Talisman of Solomon.
“Tell me,” said he to the Talisman, “what shall I do now to help
myself in this trouble?”
“Bear thy punishment, thou fool,” said the Talisman. “Know that
the king will by-and-by pardon thee and will let thee go. In the
meantime bear thy punishment; perhaps it will cure thee of thy
folly. Only do not call upon Zadok, the King of the Demons, in this
thy trouble.”
The young man smote his hand upon his head. “What a fool I am,”
said he, “not to have thought to call upon Zadok before this!” Then
he called aloud, “Zadok, Zadok! If thou art indeed my slave, come
hither at my bidding.”
In an instant there sounded a rumble as of thunder. The floor
swayed and rocked beneath the young man’s feet. The dust flew in
clouds, and there stood Zadok as black as ink, and with eyes that
shone like coals of fire.
“I have come,” said Zadok, “and first let me cure thy smarts, O
master.”
He removed the cloths from the young man’s back, and rubbed the
places that smarted with a cooling unguent. Instantly the pain and
smarting ceased, and the merchant’s son had perfect ease.
“Now,” said Zadok, “what is thy bidding?”
“Tell me,” said Aben Hassen the Fool, “whence comes all the wealth
that you have brought me? The king has commanded me to tell him and
I could not, and so he has had me beaten with fifty lashes.”
“I bring the treasure,” said Zadok, “from the treasure-house of the
ancient kings of Egypt. That treasure I at one time discovered to
your father, and he, not desiring it himself, hid it in the earth
so that no one might find it.”
“And where is this treasure-house, O Zadok?” said the young man.
“It is in the city of the queen of the Black Isles,” said the
King of the Demons; “there thy father lived in a palace of such
magnificence as thou hast never dreamed of. It was I that brought
him thence to this place with one vessel of gold money and one
vessel of silver money.”
“It was you who brought him here, did you say, Zadok? Then, tell
me, can you take me from here to the city of the queen of the Black
Isles, whence you brought him?”
“Yes,” said Zadok, “with ease.”
“Then,” said the young man, “I command you to take me thither
instantly, and to show me the treasure.”
[Illustration]
“I obey,” said Zadok.
He stamped his foot upon the ground. In an instant the walls of
the prison split asunder, and the sky was above them. The Demon
leaped from the earth, carrying the young man by the girdle, and
flew through the air so swiftly that the stars appeared to slide
away behind them. In a moment he set the young man again upon the
ground, and Aben Hassen the Fool found himself at the end of what
appeared to be a vast and splendid garden.
“We are now,” said Zadok, “above the treasure-house of which I
spoke. It was here that I saw thy father seal it so that no one but
the master of Zadok may enter. Thou mayst go in any time it may
please thee, for it is thine.”
“I would enter into it now,” said Aben Hassen the Fool.
“Thou shalt enter,” said Zadok. He stooped, and with his
finger-point he drew a circle upon the ground where they stood;
then he stamped with his heel upon the circle. Instantly the
earth opened, and there appeared a flight of marble steps leading
downward into the earth. Zadok led the way down the steps and
the young man followed. At the bottom of the steps was a door of
adamant. Upon the door were these words in letters as black as ink,
in the handwriting of the old man who had gone:
“Oh, fool! fool! Beware what thou doest. Within here shalt thou
find death!”
There was a key of brass in the door. The King of the Demons turned
the key and opened the door. The young man entered after him.
Aben Hassen the Fool found himself in a vast vaulted room, lit
by the light of a single carbuncle set in the centre of the dome
above. In the middle of the marble floor was a great basin twenty
paces broad, and filled to the brim with money such as he had found
in the brazen vessel in the garden.
The young man could not believe what he saw with his own eyes. “Oh,
marvel of marvels!” he cried; “little wonder you could give me
boundless wealth from such a storehouse as this.”
Zadok laughed. “This,” said he, “is nothing; come with me.”
He led him from this room to another--like it vaulted, and like it
lit by a carbuncle set in the dome of the roof above. In the middle
of the floor was a basin such as Aben Hassen the Fool had seen in
the other room beyond; only this was filled with gold as that had
been filled with silver, and the gold was like that he had found
in the garden. When the young man saw this vast and amazing wealth
he stood speechless and breathless with wonder. The Demon Zadok
laughed. “This,” said he, “is great, but it is little. Come and I
will show thee a marvel indeed.”
He took the young man by the hand and led him into a third
room--vaulted as the other two had been, lit as they had been by
a carbuncle in the roof above. But when the young man’s eyes saw
what was in this third room, he was like a man turned drunk with
wonder. He had to lean against the wall behind him, for the sight
made him dizzy.
In the middle of the room was such a basin as he had seen in the
two other rooms, only it was filled with jewels--diamonds and
rubies and emeralds and sapphires and precious stones of all
kinds--that sparkled and blazed and flamed like a million stars.
Around the wall, and facing the basin from all sides, stood six
golden statues. Three of them were statues of the kings and three
of them were statues of the queens who had gathered together all
this vast and measureless wealth of ancient Egypt.
There was space for a seventh statue, but where it should have
stood was a great arched door of adamant. The door was tight shut,
and there was neither lock nor key to it. Upon the door were
written these words in letters of flame:
“Behold! beyond this door is that alone which shall satisfy all thy
desires.”
“Tell me, Zadok,” said the young man, after he had filled his soul
with all the other wonders that surrounded him--“tell me what is
there that lies beyond that door?”
“That I am forbidden to tell thee, O master!” said the King of the
Demons of the Earth.
[Illustration]
“Then open the door for me,” said the young man; “for I cannot open
it for myself, as there is neither lock nor key to it.”
“That also I am forbidden to do,” said Zadok.
“I wish that I knew what was there,” said the young man.
The Demon laughed. “Some time,” said he, “thou mayest find for
thyself. Come, let us leave here and go to the palace which thy
father built years ago, and which he left behind him when he
quitted this place for the place in which thou knewest him.”
He led the way and the young man followed; they passed through the
vaulted rooms and out through the door of adamant, and Zadok locked
it behind them and gave the key to the young man.
“All this is thine now,” he said; “I give it to thee as I gave it
to thy father. I have shown thee how to enter, and thou mayst go in
whenever it pleases thee to do so.”
They ascended the steps, and so reached the garden above. Then
Zadok struck his heel upon the ground, and the earth closed as
it had opened. He led the young man from the spot until they had
come to a wide avenue that led to the palace beyond. “Here I leave
thee,” said the Demon, “but if ever thou hast need of me, call and
I will come.”
Thereupon he vanished like a flash, leaving the young man standing
like one in a dream.
He saw before him a garden of such splendor and magnificence as he
had never dreamed of even in his wildest fancy. There were seven
fountains as clear as crystal that shot high into the air and fell
back into basins of alabaster. There was a broad avenue as white as
snow, and thousands of lights lit up everything as light as day.
Upon either side of the avenue stood a row of black slaves, clad in
garments of white silk, and with jewelled turbans upon their heads.
Each held a flaming torch of sandal-wood. Behind the slaves stood
a double row of armed men, and behind them a great crowd of other
slaves and attendants, dressed each as magnificently as a prince,
blazing and flaming with innumerable jewels and ornaments of gold.
But of all these things the young man thought nothing and saw
nothing; for at the end of the marble avenue there arose a palace,
the like of which was not in the four quarters of the earth--a
palace of marble and gold and carmine and ultramarine--rising into
the purple starry sky, and shining in the moonlight like a vision
of Paradise. The palace was illuminated from top to bottom and
from end to end; the windows shone like crystal, and from it came
sounds of music and rejoicing.
When the crowd that stood waiting saw the young man appear, they
shouted: “Welcome! welcome! to the master who has come again! To
Aben Hassen the Fool!”
The young man walked up the avenue of marble to the palace,
surrounded by the armed attendants in their dresses of jewels and
gold, and preceded by dancing-girls as beautiful as houris, who
danced and sung before him. He was dizzy with joy. “All--all this,”
he exulted, “belongs to me. And to think that if I had listened to
the Talisman of Solomon I would have had none of it.”
That was the way he came back to the treasure of the ancient kings
of Egypt, and to the palace of enchantment that his father had
quitted.
For seven months he lived a life of joy and delight, surrounded
by crowds of courtiers as though he were a king, and going from
pleasure to pleasure without end. Nor had he any fear of an end
coming to it, for he knew that his treasure was inexhaustible. He
made friends with the princes and nobles of the land. From far and
wide people came to visit him, and the renown of his magnificence
filled all the world. When men would praise any one they would
say, “He is as rich,” or as “magnificent,” or as “generous, as
Aben Hassen the Fool.”
[Illustration]
So for seven months he lived a life of joy and delight; then
one morning he awakened and found everything changed to grief
and mourning. Where the day before had been laughter, to-day
was crying. Where the day before had been mirth, to-day was
lamentation. All the city was shrouded in gloom, and everywhere was
weeping and crying.
Seven black slaves stood on guard near Aben Hassen the Fool as he
lay upon his couch. “What means all this sorrow?” said he to one of
the slaves.
Instantly all the slaves began howling and beating their heads, and
he to whom the young man had spoken fell down with his face in the
dust, and lay there twisting and writhing like a worm.
“He has asked the question!” howled the slaves--“he has asked the
question!”
“Are you mad?” cried the young man. “What is the matter with you?”
At the doorway of the room stood a beautiful female slave, bearing
in her hands a jewelled basin of gold, filled with rose-water, and
a fine linen napkin for the young man to wash and dry his hands
upon. “Tell me,” said the young man, “what means all this sorrow
and lamentation?”
Instantly the beautiful slave dropped the golden basin upon the
stone floor, and began shrieking and tearing her clothes. “He has
asked the question!” she screamed--“he has asked the question!”
The young man began to grow frightened; he arose from his couch,
and with uneven steps went out into the anteroom. There he found
his chamberlain waiting for him with a crowd of attendants and
courtiers. “Tell me,” said Aben Hassen the Fool, “why are you all
so sorrowful?”
Instantly they who stood waiting began crying and tearing their
clothes and beating their hands. As for the chamberlain--he was a
reverend old man--his eyes sparkled with anger, and his fingers
twitched as though he would have struck if he had dared. “What,” he
cried, “art thou not contented with all thou hast and with all that
we do for thee without asking the forbidden question?”
Thereupon he tore his cap from his head and flung it upon the
ground, and began beating himself violently upon the head with
great outcrying.
Aben Hassen the Fool, not knowing what to think or what was to
happen, ran back into the bedroom again. “I think everybody in
this place has gone mad,” said he. “Nevertheless, if I do not find
out what it all means, I shall go mad myself.”
Then he bethought himself, for the first time since he came to that
land, of the Talisman of Solomon.
“Tell me, O Talisman,” said he, “why all these people weep and wail
so continuously?”
“Rest content,” said the Talisman of Solomon, “with knowing that
which concerns thine own self, and seek not to find an answer that
will be to thine own undoing. Be thou also further advised: do not
question the Demon Zadok.”
“Fool that I am,” said the young man, stamping his foot; “here am I
wasting all this time when, if I had but thought of Zadok at first,
he would have told me all.” Then he called aloud, “Zadok! Zadok!
Zadok!”
Instantly the ground shook beneath his feet, the dust rose in
clouds, and there stood Zadok as black as ink, and with eyes that
shone like fire.
“Tell me,” said the young man; “I command thee to tell me, O Zadok!
why are the people all gone mad this morning, and why do they weep
and wail, and why do they go crazy when I do but ask them why they
are so afflicted?”
“I will tell thee,” said Zadok. “Seven-and-thirty years ago
there was a queen over this land--the most beautiful that ever was
seen. Thy father, who was the wisest and most cunning magician in
the world, turned her into stone, and with her all the attendants
in her palace. No one since that time has been permitted to enter
the palace--it is forbidden for any one even to ask a question
concerning it; but every year, on the day on which the queen was
turned to stone, the whole land mourns with weeping and wailing.
And now thou knowest all!”
[Illustration]
“What you tell me,” said the young man, “passes wonder. But tell me
further, O Zadok, is it possible for me to see this queen whom my
father turned to stone?”
“Nothing is easier,” said Zadok.
“Then,” said the young man, “I command you to take me to where she
is, so that I may see her with mine own eyes.”
“I hear and obey,” said the Demon.
He seized the young man by the girdle, and in an instant flew away
with him to a hanging-garden that lay before the queen’s palace.
“Thou art the first man,” said Zadok, “who has seen what thou art
about to see for seven-and-thirty years. Come, I will show thee a
queen, the most beautiful that the eyes of man ever looked upon.”
[Illustration]
He led the way, and the young man followed, filled with wonder and
astonishment. Not a sound was to be heard, not a thing moved, but
silence hung like a veil between the earth and the sky.
Following the Demon, the young man ascended a flight of steps, and
so entered the vestibule of the palace. There stood guards in armor
of brass and silver and gold. But they were without life--they were
all of stone as white as alabaster. Thence they passed through room
after room and apartment after apartment crowded with courtiers
and nobles and lords in their robes of office, magnificent beyond
fancying, but each silent and motionless--each a stone as white as
alabaster. At last they entered an apartment in the very centre of
the palace. There sat seven-and-forty female attendants around a
couch of purple and gold. Each of the seven-and-forty was beautiful
beyond what the young man could have believed possible, and each
was clad in a garment of silk as white as snow, embroidered with
threads of silver and studded with glistening diamonds. But each
sat silent and motionless--each was a stone as white as alabaster.
Upon the couch in the centre of the apartment reclined a queen with
a crown of gold upon her head. She lay there motionless, still.
She was cold and dead--of stone as white as marble. The young man
approached and looked into her face, and when he looked his breath
became faint and his heart grew soft within him like wax in a flame
of fire.
He sighed; he melted; the tears burst from his eyes and ran down
his cheeks. “Zadok!” he cried--“Zadok! Zadok! What have you done to
show me this wonder of beauty and love! Alas! that I have seen her;
for the world is nothing to me now. O Zadok! that she were flesh
and blood, instead of cold stone! Tell me, Zadok, I command you to
tell me, was she once really alive as I am alive, and did my father
truly turn her to stone as she lies here?”
“She was really alive as thou art alive, and he did truly transform
her to this stone,” said Zadok.
“And tell me,” said the young man, “can she never become alive
again?”
“She can become alive, and it lies with you to make her alive,”
said the Demon. “Listen, O master. Thy father possessed a wand,
half of silver and half of gold. Whatsoever he touched with silver
became converted to stone, such as thou seest all around thee here;
but whatsoever, O master, he touched with the gold, it became
alive, even if it were a dead stone.”
“Tell me, Zadok,” cried the young man; “I command you to tell me,
where is that wand of silver and gold?”
“I have it with me,” said Zadok.
“Then give it to me; I command you to give it to me.”
“I hear and obey,” said Zadok. He drew from his girdle a wand, half
of gold and half of silver, as he spoke, and gave it to the young
man.
“Thou mayst go now, Zadok,” said the young man, trembling with
eagerness.
Zadok laughed and vanished. The young man stood for a while looking
down at the beautiful figure of alabaster. Then he touched the
lips with the golden tip of the wand. In an instant there came
a marvellous change. He saw the stone melt, and begin to grow
flexible and soft. He saw it become warm, and the cheeks and lips
grow red with life. Meantime a murmur had begun to rise all through
the palace. It grew louder and louder--it became a shout. The
figure of the queen that had been stone opened its eyes.
“Who are you?” it said.
Aben Hassen the Fool fell upon his knees. “I am he who was sent to
bring you to life,” he said. “My father turned you to cold stone,
and I--I have brought you back to warm life again.”
[Illustration]
The queen smiled--her teeth sparkled like pearls. “If you have
brought me to life, then I am yours,” she said, and she kissed him
upon the lips.
He grew suddenly dizzy; the world swam before his eyes.
* * * * *
For seven days nothing was heard in the town but rejoicing and joy.
The young man lived in a golden cloud of delight. “And to think,”
said he, “if I had listened to that accursed Talisman of Solomon,
called ‘The Wise,’ all this happiness, this ecstasy that is now
mine, would have been lost to me.”
* * * * *
“Tell me, beloved,” said the queen, upon the morning of the seventh
day--“thy father once possessed all the hidden treasure of the
ancient kings of Egypt--tell me, is it now thine as it was once
his?”
“Yes,” said the young man, “it is now all mine as it was once all
his.”
“And do you really love me as you say?”
“Yes,” said the young man, “and ten thousand times more than I
say.”
“Then, as you love me, I beg one boon of you. It is that you show
me this treasure of which I have heard so much, and which we are to
enjoy together.”
The young man was drunk with happiness. “Thou shalt see it all,”
said he.
Then, for the first time, the Talisman spoke without being
questioned. “Fool!” it cried; “wilt thou not be advised?”
“Be silent,” said the young man. “Six times, vile thing, you would
have betrayed me. Six times you would have deprived me of joys that
should have been mine, and each was greater than that which went
before. Shall I now listen the seventh time? Now,” said he to the
queen, “I will show you our treasure.” He called aloud, “Zadok,
Zadok, Zadok!”
Instantly the ground shook beneath their feet, the dust rose in
clouds, and Zadok appeared, as black as ink, and with eyes that
shone like coals of fire.
“I command you,” said the young man, “to carry the queen and myself
to the garden where my treasure lies hidden.”
Zadok laughed aloud. “I hear thee and obey thee, master,” said he.
He seized the queen and the young man by the girdle, and in an
instant transported them to the garden and to the treasure-house.
“Thou art where thou commandest to be,” said the Demon.
The young man immediately drew a circle upon the ground with his
finger-tip. He struck his heel upon the circle. The ground opened,
disclosing the steps leading downward. The young man descended the
steps with the queen behind him, and behind them both came the
Demon Zadok.
The young man opened the door of adamant and entered the first of
the vaulted rooms.
When the queen saw the huge basin full of silver treasure, her
cheeks and her forehead flushed as red as fire.
They went into the next room, and when the queen saw the basin of
gold her face turned as white as ashes.
They went into the third room, and when the queen saw the basin of
jewels and the six golden statues her face turned as blue as lead,
and her eyes shone green like a snake’s.
“Are you content?” asked the young man.
The queen looked about her. “No!” cried she, hoarsely, pointing
to the closed door that had never been opened, and whereon were
engraved these words:
“_=Behold! Beyond this door is that alone which shall satisfy all
thy desires.=_”
[Illustration]
“No!” cried she. “What is it that lies behind yon door?”
“I do not know,” said the young man.
“Then open the door, and let me see what lies within.”
“I cannot open the door,” said he. “How can I open the door, seeing
that there is no lock nor key to it?”
“If thou dost not open the door,” said the queen, “all is over
between thee and me. So do as I bid thee, or leave me forever.”
They had both forgotten that the Demon Zadok was there. Then the
young man bethought himself of the Talisman of Solomon. “Tell me, O
Talisman,” said he, “how shall I open yonder door?”
“Oh, wretched one!” cried the Talisman, “oh, wretched one! fly
while there is yet time--fly, for thy doom is near! Do not push the
door open, for it is not locked!”
The young man struck his head with his clinched fist. “What a fool
am I!” he cried. “Will I never learn wisdom? Here have I been
coming to this place seven months, and have never yet thought to
try whether yonder door was locked or not!”
“Open the door!” cried the queen.
They went forward together. The young man pushed the door with his
hand. It opened swiftly and silently, and they entered.
Within was a narrow room as red as blood. A flaming lamp hung from
the ceiling above. The young man stood as though turned to stone,
for there stood a gigantic Black Demon with a napkin wrapped around
his loins and a scimitar in his right hand, the blade of which
gleamed like lightning in the flame of the lamp. Before him lay a
basket filled with sawdust.
When the queen saw what she saw she screamed in a loud voice, “Thou
hast found it! thou hast found it! Thou hast found what alone can
satisfy all thy desires! Strike, O slave!”
The young man heard the Demon Zadok give a yell of laughter. He saw
a whirl and a flash, and then he knew nothing.
The Black had struck--the blade had fallen, and the head of Aben
Hassen the Fool rolled into the basket of sawdust that stood
waiting for it.
* * * * *
_“Aye, aye,” said St. George, “and so it should end. For what was
your Aben Hassen the Fool but a heathen Paniem? Thus should the
heads of all the like be chopped off from their shoulders. Is there
not some one here to tell us a fair story about a saint?”_
_“For the matter of that,” said the Lad who fiddled when the Jew
was in the bramble-bush--“for the matter of that I know a very good
story that begins about a saint and a hazel-nut.”_
_“Say you so?” said St. George. “Well, let us have it. But stay,
friend, thou hast no ale in thy pot. Wilt thou not let me pay for
having it filled?”_
_“That,” said the Lad who fiddled when the Jew was in the
bramble-bush, “may be as you please, Sir Knight; and, to tell the
truth, I will be mightily glad for a drop to moisten my throat
withal.”_
_“But,” said Fortunatus, “you have not told us what the story is to
be about.”_
_“It is,” said the Lad who fiddled for the Jew in the
bramble-bush, “about_--”
[Illustration]
Ill-Luck and the Fiddler.
Once upon a time St. Nicholas came down into the world to take a
peep at the old place and see how things looked in the spring-time.
On he stepped along the road to the town where he used to live, for
he had a notion to find out whether things were going on nowadays
as they one time did. By-and-by he came to a cross-road, and who
should he see sitting there but Ill-Luck himself. Ill-Luck’s face
was as gray as ashes, and his hair as white as snow--for he is
as old as Grandfather Adam--and two great wings grew out of his
shoulders--for he flies fast and comes quickly to those whom he
visits, does Ill-Luck.
Now, St. Nicholas had a pocketful of hazel-nuts, which he kept
cracking and eating as he trudged along the road, and just then he
came upon one with a worm-hole in it. When he saw Ill-Luck it came
into his head to do a good turn to poor sorrowful man.
“Good-morning, Ill-Luck,” says he.
“Good-morning, St. Nicholas,” says Ill-Luck.
“You look as hale and strong as ever,” says St. Nicholas.
“Ah, yes,” says Ill-Luck, “I find plenty to do in this world of
woe.”
“They tell me,” says St. Nicholas, “that you can go wherever you
choose, even if it be through a key-hole; now, is that so?”
“Yes,” says Ill-Luck, “it is.”
“Well, look now, friend,” says St. Nicholas, “could you go into
this hazel-nut if you chose to?”
“Yes,” says Ill-Luck, “I could indeed.”
“I should like to see you,” says St. Nicholas; “for then I should
be of a mind to believe what people say of you.”
“Well,” says Ill-Luck, “I have not much time to be pottering and
playing upon Jack’s fiddle; but to oblige an old friend”--thereupon
he made himself small and smaller, and--phst! he was in the nut
before you could wink.
Then what do you think St. Nicholas did? In his hand he held a
little plug of wood, and no sooner had Ill-Luck entered the nut
than he stuck the plug in the hole, and there was man’s enemy as
tight as a fly in a bottle.
“So!” says St. Nicholas, “that’s a piece of work well done.” Then
he tossed the hazel-nut under the roots of an oak-tree near by, and
went his way.
And that is how this story begins.
* * * * *
Well, the hazel-nut lay and lay and lay, and all the time that it
lay there nobody met with ill-luck; but, one day, who should come
travelling that way but a rogue of a Fiddler, with his fiddle under
his arm. The day was warm, and he was tired; so down he sat under
the shade of the oak-tree to rest his legs. By-and-by he heard a
little shrill voice piping and crying, “Let me out! let me out! let
me out!”
The Fiddler looked up and down, but he could see nobody. “Who are
you?” says he.
“I am Ill-Luck! Let me out! let me out!”
“Let you out?” says the Fiddler. “Not I; if you are bottled up here
it is the better for all of us;” and, so saying, he tucked his
fiddle under his arm and off he marched.
But before he had gone six steps he stopped. He was one of your
peering, prying sort, and liked more than a little to know all
that was to be known about this or that or the other thing that
he chanced to see or hear. “I wonder where Ill-Luck can be, to be
in such a tight place as he seems to be caught in,” says he to
himself; and back he came again. “Where are you, Ill-Luck?” says he.
“Here I am,” says Ill-Luck--“here in this hazel-nut, under the
roots of the oak-tree.”
Thereupon the Fiddler laid aside his fiddle and bow, and fell to
poking and prying under the roots until he found the nut. Then he
began twisting and turning it in his fingers, looking first on one
side and then on the other, and all the while Ill-Luck kept crying,
“Let me out! let me out!”
It was not long before the Fiddler found the little wooden plug,
and then nothing would do but he must take a peep inside the nut to
see if Ill-Luck was really there. So he picked and pulled at the
wooden plug, until at last out it came; and--phst! pop! out came
Ill-Luck along with it.
Plague take the Fiddler! say I.
“Listen,” says Ill-Luck. “It has been many a long day that I have
been in that hazel-nut, and you are the man that has let me out;
for once in a way I will do a good turn to a poor human body.”
Therewith, and without giving the Fiddler time to speak a word,
Ill-Luck caught him up by the belt, and--whiz! away he flew like a
bullet, over hill and over valley, over moor and over mountain, so
fast that not enough wind was left in the Fiddler’s stomach to say
“Bo!”
[Illustration]
By-and-by he came to a garden, and there he let the Fiddler drop on
the soft grass below. Then away he flew to attend to other matters
of greater need.
When the Fiddler had gathered his wits together, and himself to
his feet, he saw that he lay in a beautiful garden of flowers and
fruit-trees and marble walks and what not, and that at the end of
it stood a great, splendid house, all built of white marble, with a
fountain in front, and peacocks strutting about on the lawn.
Well, the Fiddler smoothed down his hair and brushed his clothes a
bit, and off he went to see what was to be seen at the grand house
at the end of the garden.
He entered the door, and nobody said no to him. Then he passed
through one room after another, and each was finer than the one
he left behind. Many servants stood around; but they only bowed,
and never asked whence he came. At last he came to a room where a
little old man sat at a table. The table was spread with a feast
that smelled so good that it brought tears to the Fiddler’s eyes
and water to his mouth, and all the plates were of pure gold. The
little old man sat alone, but another place was spread, as though
he were expecting some one. As the Fiddler came in the little old
man nodded and smiled. “Welcome!” he cried; “and have you come at
last?”
[Illustration]
“Yes,” said the Fiddler, “I have. It was Ill-Luck that brought me.”
“Nay,” said the little old man, “do not say that. Sit down to the
table and eat; and when I have told you all, you will say it was
not Ill-Luck, but Good-Luck, that brought you.”
The Fiddler had his own mind about that; but, all the same, down
he sat at the table, and fell to with knife and fork at the good
things, as though he had not had a bite to eat for a week of
Sundays.
“I am the richest man in the world,” says the little old man, after
a while.
“I am glad to hear it,” says the Fiddler.
“You may well be,” said the old man, “for I am all alone in the
world, and without wife or child. And this morning I said to
myself that the first body that came to my house I would take for
a son--or a daughter, as the case might be. You are the first, and
so you shall live with me as long as I live, and after I am gone
everything that I have shall be yours.”
The Fiddler did nothing but stare with open eyes and mouth, as
though he would never shut either again.
* * * * *
Well, the Fiddler lived with the old man for maybe three or four
days as snug and happy a life as ever a mouse passed in a green
cheese. As for the gold and silver and jewels--why, they were as
plentiful in that house as dust in a mill! Everything the Fiddler
wanted came to his hand. He lived high, and slept soft and warm,
and never knew what it was to want either more or less, or great
or small. In all of those three or four days he did nothing but
enjoy himself with might and main.
[Illustration]
But by-and-by he began to wonder where all the good things came
from. Then, before long, he fell to pestering the old man with
questions about the matter.
At first the old man put him off with short answers, but the
Fiddler was a master-hand at finding out anything that he wanted to
know. He dinned and drummed and worried until flesh and blood could
stand it no longer. So at last the old man said that he would show
him the treasure-house where all his wealth came from, and at that
the Fiddler was tickled beyond measure.
The old man took a key from behind the door and led him out into
the garden. There in a corner by the wall was a great trap-door
of iron. The old man fitted the key to the lock and turned it. He
lifted the door, and then went down a steep flight of stone steps,
and the Fiddler followed close at his heels. Down below it was as
light as day, for in the centre of the room hung a great lamp that
shone with a bright light and lit up all the place as bright as
day. In the floor were set three great basins of marble: one was
nearly full of silver, one of gold, and one of gems of all sorts.
“All this is mine,” said the old man, “and after I am gone it
shall be yours. It was left to me as I will leave it to you, and
in the meantime you may come and go as you choose and fill your
pockets whenever you wish to. But there is one thing you must not
do: you must never open that door yonder at the back of the room.
Should you do so, Ill-Luck will be sure to overtake you.”
Oh no! The Fiddler would never think of doing such a thing as
opening the door. The silver and gold and jewels were enough for
him. But since the old man had given him leave, he would just help
himself to a few of the fine things. So he stuffed his pockets
full, and then he followed the old man up the steps and out into
the sunlight again.
It took him maybe an hour to count all the money and jewels he had
brought up with him. After he had done that, he began to wonder
what was inside of the little door at the back of the room. First
he wondered; then he began to grow curious; then he began to itch
and tingle and burn as though fifty thousand I-want-to-know nettles
were sticking into him from top to toe. At last he could stand it
no longer. “I’ll just go down yonder,” says he, “and peep through
the key-hole; perhaps I can see what is there without opening the
door.”
So down he took the key, and off he marched to the garden. He
opened the trap-door, and went down the steep steps to the room
below. There was the door at the end of the room, but when he came
to look there was no key-hole to it. “Pshaw!” said he, “here is a
pretty state of affairs. Tut! tut! tut! Well, since I have come so
far, it would be a pity to turn back without seeing more.” So he
opened the door and peeped in.
[Illustration]
“Pooh!” said the Fiddler, “there’s nothing there, after all,” and
he opened the door wide.
Before him was a great long passageway, and at the far end of it he
could see a spark of light as though the sun were shining there. He
listened, and after a while he heard a sound like the waves beating
on the shore. “Well,” says he, “this is the most curious thing I
have seen for a long time. Since I have come so far, I may as well
see the end of it.” So he entered the passageway, and closed the
door behind him.
He went on and on, and the spark of light kept growing larger and
larger, and by-and-by--pop! out he came at the other end of the
passage.
Sure enough, there he stood on the sea-shore, with the waves
beating and dashing on the rocks. He stood looking and wondering to
find himself in such a place, when all of a sudden something came
with a whiz and a rush and caught him by the belt, and away he flew
like a bullet.
By-and-by he managed to screw his head around and look up, and
there it was Ill-Luck that had him. “I thought so,” said the
Fiddler; and then he gave over kicking.
Well; on and on they flew, over hill and valley, over moor and
mountain, until they came to another garden, and there Ill-Luck let
the Fiddler drop.
Swash! Down he fell into the top of an apple-tree, and there he
hung in the branches.
It was the garden of a royal castle, and all had been weeping and
woe (though they were beginning now to pick up their smiles again),
and this was the reason why:
The king of that country had died, and no one was left behind him
but the queen. But she was a prize, for not only was the kingdom
hers, but she was as young as a spring apple and as pretty as a
picture; so that there was no end of those who would have liked to
have had her, each man for his own. Even that day there were three
princes at the castle, each one wanting the queen to marry him; and
the wrangling and bickering and squabbling that was going on was
enough to deafen a body. The poor young queen was tired to death
with it all, and so she had come out into the garden for a bit of
rest; and there she sat under the shade of an apple-tree, fanning
herself and crying, when--
Swash! Down fell the Fiddler into the apple-tree and down fell a
dozen apples, popping and tumbling about the queen’s ears.
The queen looked up and screamed, and the Fiddler climbed down.
“Where did you come from?” said she.
“Oh, Ill-Luck brought me,” said the Fiddler.
“Nay,” said the queen, “do not say so. You fell from heaven, for I
saw it with my eyes and heard it with my ears. I see how it is now.
You were sent hither from heaven to be my husband, and my husband
you shall be. You shall be king of this country, half-and-half with
me as queen, and shall sit on a throne beside me.”
You can guess whether or not that was music to the Fiddler’s ears.
So the princes were sent packing, and the Fiddler was married to
the queen, and reigned in that country.
[Illustration]
Well, three or four days passed, and all was as sweet and happy
as a spring day. But at the end of that time the Fiddler began to
wonder what was to be seen in the castle. The queen was very fond
of him, and was glad enough to show him all the fine things that
were to be seen; so hand in hand they went everywhere, from garret
to cellar.
[Illustration]
But you should have seen how splendid it all was! The Fiddler felt
more certain than ever that it was better to be a king than to be
the richest man in the world, and he was as glad as glad could be
that Ill-Luck had brought him from the rich little old man over
yonder to this.
So he saw everything in the castle but one thing. “What is behind
that door?” said he.
“Ah! that,” said the queen, “you must not ask or wish to know.
Should you open that door Ill-Luck will be sure to overtake you.”
“Pooh!” said the Fiddler, “I don’t care to know, anyhow,” and off
they went, hand in hand.
Yes, that was a very fine thing to say; but before an hour had
gone by the Fiddler’s head began to hum and buzz like a beehive.
“I don’t believe,” said he, “there would be a grain of harm in my
peeping inside that door; all the same, I will not do it. I will
just go down and peep through the key-hole.” So off he went to do
as he said; but there was no key-hole to that door, either. “Why,
look!” says he, “it is just like the door at the rich man’s house
over yonder; I wonder if it is the same inside as outside,” and he
opened the door and peeped in. Yes; there was the long passage and
the spark of light at the far end, as though the sun were shining.
He cocked his head to one side and listened. “Yes,” said he, “I
think I hear the water rushing, but I am not sure; I will just go
a little farther in and listen,” and so he entered and closed the
door behind him. Well, he went on and on until--pop! there he was
out at the farther end, and before he knew what he was about he had
stepped out upon the sea-shore, just as he had done before.
Whiz! whirr! Away flew the Fiddler like a bullet, and there was
Ill-Luck carrying him by the belt again. Away they sped, over hill
and valley, over moor and mountain, until the Fiddler’s head grew
so dizzy that he had to shut his eyes. Suddenly Ill-Luck let him
drop, and down he fell--thump! bump!--on the hard ground. Then he
opened his eyes and sat up, and, lo and behold! there he was, under
the oak-tree whence he had started in the first place. There lay
his fiddle, just as he had left it. He picked it up and ran his
fingers over the strings--trum, twang! Then he got to his feet and
brushed the dirt and grass from his knees. He tucked his fiddle
under his arm, and off he stepped upon the way he had been going at
first.
“Just to think!” said he, “I would either have been the richest man
in the world, or else I would have been a king, if it had not been
for Ill-Luck.”
And that is the way we all of us talk.
* * * * *
_Dr. Faustus had sat all the while neither drinking ale nor smoking
tobacco, but with his hands folded, and in silence. “I know not
why it is,” said he, “but that story of yours, my friend, brings
to my mind a story of a man whom I once knew--a great magician in
his time, and a necromancer and a chemist and an alchemist and
mathematician and a rhetorician, an astronomer, an astrologer, and
a philosopher as well.”_
_“’Tis a long list of excellency,” said old Bidpai._
_“’Tis not as long as was his head,” said Dr. Faustus._
_“It would be good for us all to hear a story of such a man,” said
old Bidpai._
_“Nay,” said Dr. Faustus, “the story is not altogether of the man
himself, but rather of a pupil who came to learn wisdom of him.”_
_“And the name of your story is what?” said Fortunatus._
_“It hath no name,” said Dr. Faustus._
_“Nay,” said St. George, “everything must have a name.”_
_“It hath no name,” said Dr. Faustus. “But I shall give it a name,
and it shall be--”_
[Illustration]
Empty Bottles.
In the old, old days when men were wiser than they are in these
times, there lived a great philosopher and magician, by name
Nicholas Flamel. Not only did he know all the actual sciences, but
the black arts as well, and magic, and what not. He conjured demons
so that when a body passed the house of a moonlight night a body
might see imps, great and small, little and big, sitting on the
chimney stacks and the ridge-pole, clattering their heels on the
tiles and chatting together.
He could change iron and lead into silver and gold; he discovered
the elixir of life, and might have been living even to this day had
he thought it worth while to do so.
There was a student at the university whose name was Gebhart, who
was so well acquainted with algebra and geometry that he could tell
at a single glance how many drops of water there were in a bottle
of wine. As for Latin and Greek--he could patter them off like his
A B C’s. Nevertheless, he was not satisfied with the things he
knew, but was for learning the things that no schools could teach
him. So one day he came knocking at Nicholas Flamel’s door.
“Come in,” said the wise man, and there Gebhart found him sitting
in the midst of his books and bottles and diagrams and dust and
chemicals and cobwebs, making strange figures upon the table with
jackstraws and a piece of chalk--for your true wise man can squeeze
more learning out of jackstraws and a piece of chalk than we common
folk can get out of all the books in the world.
No one else was in the room but the wise man’s servant, whose name
was Babette.
[Illustration]
“What is it you want?” said the wise man, looking at Gebhart over
the rim of his spectacles.
“Master,” said Gebhart, “I have studied day after day at the
university, and from early in the morning until late at night,
so that my head has hummed and my eyes were sore, yet I have not
learned those things that I wish most of all to know--the arts that
no one but you can teach. Will you take me as your pupil?”
The wise man shook his head.
“Many would like to be as wise as that,” said he, “and few there be
who can become so. Now tell me. Suppose all the riches of the world
were offered to you, would you rather be wise?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose you might have all the rank and power of a king or of an
emperor, would you rather be wise?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose I undertook to teach you, would you give up everything of
joy and of pleasure to follow me?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you are hungry,” said the master.
“Yes,” said the student, “I am.”
“Then, Babette, you may bring some bread and cheese.”
It seemed to Gebhart that he had learned all that Nicholas Flamel
had to teach him.
It was in the gray of the dawning, and the master took the pupil
by the hand and led him up the rickety stairs to the roof of the
house, where nothing was to be seen but gray sky, high roofs, and
chimney stacks from which the smoke rose straight into the still
air.
“Now,” said the master, “I have taught you nearly all of the
science that I know, and the time has come to show you the
wonderful thing that has been waiting for us from the beginning
when time was. You have given up wealth and the world and pleasure
and joy and love for the sake of wisdom. Now, then, comes the last
test--whether you can remain faithful to me to the end; if you fail
in it, all is lost that you have gained.”
After he had said that he stripped his cloak away from his
shoulders and laid bare the skin. Then he took a bottle of red
liquor and began bathing his shoulder-blades with it; and as
Gebhart, squatting upon the ridge-pole, looked, he saw two little
lumps bud out upon the smooth skin, and then grow and grow and grow
until they became two great wings as white as snow.
“Now then,” said the master, “take me by the belt and grip fast,
for there is a long, long journey before us, and if you should
lose your head and let go your hold you will fall and be dashed to
pieces.”
Then he spread the two great wings, and away he flew as fast as the
wind, with Gebhart hanging to his belt.
Over hills, over dales, over mountains, over moors he flew, with
the brown earth lying so far below that horses and cows looked like
pismires and men like fleas.
Then, by-and-by, it was over the ocean they were crossing, with the
great ships that pitched and tossed below looking like chips in a
puddle in rainy weather.
At last they came to a strange land, far, far away, and there the
master lit upon a sea-shore where the sand was as white as silver.
As soon as his feet touched the hard ground the great wings were
gone like a puff of smoke, and the wise man walked like any other
body.
At the edge of the sandy beach was a great, high, naked cliff; and
the only way of reaching the top was by a flight of stone steps, as
slippery as glass, cut in the solid rock.
The wise man led the way, and the student followed close at his
heels, every now and then slipping and stumbling so that, had it
not been for the help that the master gave him, he would have
fallen more than once and have been dashed to pieces upon the
rocks below.
[Illustration]
At last they reached the top, and there found themselves in a
desert, without stick of wood or blade of grass, but only gray
stones and skulls and bones bleaching in the sun.
In the middle of the plain was a castle such as the eyes of man
never saw before, for it was built all of crystal from roof to
cellar. Around it was a high wall of steel, and in the wall were
seven gates of polished brass.
The wise man led the way straight to the middle gate of the seven,
where there hung a horn of pure silver, which he set to his lips.
He blew a blast so loud and shrill that it made Gebhart’s ears
tingle. In an instant there sounded a great rumble and grumble like
the noise of loud thunder, and the gates of brass swung slowly
back, as though of themselves.
But when Gebhart saw what he saw within the gates his heart
crumbled away for fear, and his knees knocked together; for there,
in the very middle of the way, stood a monstrous, hideous dragon,
that blew out flames and clouds of smoke from his gaping mouth like
a chimney a-fire.
But the wise master was as cool as smooth water; he thrust his hand
into the bosom of his jacket and drew forth a little black box,
which he flung straight into the gaping mouth.
[Illustration]
Snap!--the dragon swallowed the box.
The next moment it gave a great, loud, terrible cry, and, clapping
and rattling its wings, leaped into the air and flew away,
bellowing like a bull.
If Gebhart had been wonder-struck at seeing the outside of the
castle, he was ten thousand times more amazed to see the inside
thereof. For, as the master led the way and he followed, he passed
through four-and-twenty rooms, each one more wonderful than the
other. Everywhere was gold and silver and dazzling jewels that
glistened so brightly that one had to shut one’s eyes to their
sparkle. Beside all this, there were silks and satins and velvets
and laces and crystal and ebony and sandal-wood that smelled
sweeter than musk and rose leaves. All the wealth of the world
brought together into one place could not make such riches as
Gebhart saw with his two eyes in these four-and-twenty rooms. His
heart beat fast within him.
At last they reached a little door of solid iron, beside which hung
a sword with a blade that shone like lightning. The master took the
sword in one hand and laid the other upon the latch of the door.
Then he turned to Gebhart and spoke for the first time since they
had started upon their long journey.
“In this room,” said he, “you will see a strange thing happen, and
in a little while I shall be as one dead. As soon as that comes
to pass, go you straightway through to the room beyond, where
you will find upon a marble table a goblet of water and a silver
dagger. Touch nothing else, and look at nothing else, for if you do
all will be lost to both of us. Bring the water straightway, and
sprinkle my face with it, and when that is done you and I will be
the wisest and greatest men that ever lived, for I will make you
equal to myself in all that I know. So now swear to do what I have
just bid you, and not turn aside a hair’s breadth in the going and
the coming.
“I swear,” said Gebhart, and crossed his heart.
Then the master opened the door and entered, with Gebhart close at
his heels.
In the centre of the room was a great red cock, with eyes that
shone like sparks of fire. So soon as he saw the master he flew
at him, screaming fearfully, and spitting out darts of fire that
blazed and sparkled like lightning.
It was a dreadful battle between the master and the cock. Up and
down they fought, and here and there. Sometimes the student could
see the wise man whirling and striking with his sword; and then
again he would be hidden in a sheet of flame. But after a while he
made a lucky stroke, and off flew the cock’s head. Then, lo and
behold! instead of a cock it was a great, hairy, black demon that
lay dead on the floor.
But, though the master had conquered, he looked like one sorely
sick. He was just able to stagger to a couch that stood by the
wall, and there he fell and lay, without breath or motion, like one
dead, and as white as wax.
As soon as Gebhart had gathered his wits together he remembered
what the master had said about the other room.
The door of it was also of iron. He opened it and passed within,
and there saw two great tables or blocks of polished marble. Upon
one was the dagger and a goblet of gold brimming with water. Upon
the other lay the figure of a woman, and as Gebhart looked at her
he thought her more beautiful than any thought or dream could
picture. But her eyes were closed, and she lay like a lifeless
figure of wax.
After Gebhart had gazed at her a long, long time, he took up the
goblet and the dagger from the table and turned towards the door.
Then, before he left that place, he thought that he would have
just one more look at the beautiful figure. So he did, and gazed
and gazed until his heart melted away within him like a lump of
butter; and, hardly knowing what he did, he stooped and kissed the
lips.
[Illustration]
Instantly he did so a great humming sound filled the whole castle,
so sweet and musical that it made him tremble to listen. Then
suddenly the figure opened its eyes and looked straight at him.
“At last!” she said; “have you come at last?”
“Yes,” said Gebhart, “I have come.”
Then the beautiful woman arose and stepped down from the table to
the floor; and if Gebhart thought her beautiful before, he thought
her a thousand times more beautiful now that her eyes looked into
his.
“Listen,” said she. “I have been asleep for hundreds upon hundreds
of years, for so it was fated to be until he should come who was
to bring me back to life again. You are he, and now you shall live
with me forever. In this castle is the wealth gathered by the
king of the genii, and it is greater than all the riches of the
world. It and the castle likewise shall be yours. I can transport
everything into any part of the world you choose, and can by my
arts make you prince or king or emperor. Come.”
“Stop,” said Gebhart. “I must first do as my master bade me.”
[Illustration]
He led the way into the other room, the lady following him, and so
they both stood together by the couch where the wise man lay. When
the lady saw his face she cried out in a loud voice: “It is the
great master! What are you going to do?”
“I am going to sprinkle his face with this water,” said Gebhart.
“Stop!” said she. “Listen to what I have to say. In your hand you
hold the water of life and the dagger of death. The master is
not dead, but sleeping; if you sprinkle that water upon him he
will awaken, young, handsome and more powerful than the greatest
magician that ever lived. I myself, this castle, and everything
that is in it will be his, and, instead of your becoming a prince
or a king or an emperor, he will be so in your place. That, I say,
will happen if he wakens. Now the dagger of death is the only thing
in the world that has power to kill him. You have it in your hand.
You have but to give him one stroke with it while he sleeps, and he
will never waken again, and then all will be yours--your very own.”
Gebhart neither spoke nor moved, but stood looking down upon his
master. Then he set down the goblet very softly on the floor, and,
shutting his eyes that he might not see the blow, raised the dagger
to strike.
“That is all your promises amount to,” said Nicholas Flamel the
wise man. “After all, Babette, you need not bring the bread and
cheese, for he shall be no pupil of mine.”
Then Gebhart opened his eyes.
There sat the wise man in the midst of his books and bottles and
diagrams and dust and chemicals and cobwebs, making strange figures
upon the table with jackstraws and a piece of chalk.
And Babette, who had just opened the cupboard door for the loaf of
bread and the cheese, shut it again with a bang, and went back to
her spinning.
So Gebhart had to go back again to his Greek and Latin and algebra
and geometry; for, after all, one cannot pour a gallon of beer into
a quart pot, or the wisdom of a Nicholas Flamel into such an one as
Gebhart.
As for the name of this story, why, if some promises are not
bottles full of nothing but wind, there is little need to have a
name for anything.
* * * * *
_“Since we are in the way of talking of fools,” said the Fisherman
who drew the Genie out of the sea--“since we are in the way of
talking of fools, I can tell you a story of the fool of all fools,
and how, one after the other, he wasted as good gifts as a man’s
ears ever heard tell of.”_
_“What was his name?” said the Lad who fiddled for the Jew in the
bramble-bush._
_“That,” said the Fisherman, “I do not know.”_
_“And what is this story about?” asked St. George._
_“’Tis,” said the Fisherman, “about a hole in the ground.”_
_“And is that all?” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil._
_“Nay,” said the Fisherman, blowing a whiff from his pipe; “there
were some things in the hole--a bowl of treasure, an earthen-ware
jar, and a pair of candlesticks.”_
_“And what do you call your story,” said St. George._
_“Why,” said the Fisherman, “for lack of a better name I will call
it--”_
[Illustration]
Good Gifts and a Fool’s Folly.
_Give a fool heaven and earth, and all the stars, and he will make
ducks and drakes of them._
Once upon a time there was an old man, who, by thrifty living and
long saving, had laid by a fortune great enough to buy ease and
comfort and pleasure for a lifetime.
By-and-by he died, and the money came to his son, who was of a
different sort from the father; for, what that one had gained by
the labor of a whole year, the other spent in riotous living in one
week.
So it came about in a little while that the young man found himself
without so much as a single penny to bless himself withal. Then his
fair-weather friends left him, and the creditors came and seized
upon his house and his household goods, and turned him out into the
cold wide world to get along as best he might with the other fools
who lived there.
Now the young spendthrift was a strong, stout fellow, and, seeing
nothing better to do, he sold his fine clothes and bought him a
porter’s basket, and went and sat in the corner of the market-place
to hire himself out to carry this or that for folk who were better
off in the world, and less foolish than he.
There he sat, all day long, from morning until evening, but nobody
came to hire him. But at last, as dusk was settling, there came
along an old man with beard as white as snow hanging down below his
waist. He stopped in front of the foolish spendthrift, and stood
looking at him for a while; then, at last, seeming to be satisfied,
he beckoned with his finger to the young man. “Come,” said he, “I
have a task for you to do, and if you are wise, and keep a still
tongue in your head, I will pay you as never a porter was paid
before.”
[Illustration]
You may depend upon it the young man needed no second bidding to
such a matter. Up he rose, and took his basket, and followed the
old man, who led the way up one street and down another, until at
last they came to a rickety, ramshackle house in a part of the
town the young man had never been before. Here the old man stopped
and knocked at the door, which was instantly opened, as though
of itself, and then he entered with the young spendthrift at his
heels. The two passed through a dark passage-way, and another
door, and then, lo and behold! all was changed; for they had come
suddenly into such a place as the young man would not have believed
could be in such a house, had he not seen it with his own eyes.
Thousands of waxen tapers lit the place as bright as day--a great
oval room, floored with mosaic of a thousand bright colors and
strange figures, and hung with tapestries of silks and satins and
gold and silver. The ceiling was painted to represent the sky,
through which flew beautiful birds and winged figures so life-like
that no one could tell that they were only painted, and not real.
At the farther side of the room were two richly cushioned couches,
and thither the old man led the way with the young spendthrift
following, wonder-struck, and there the two sat themselves down.
Then the old man smote his hands together, and, in answer, ten
young men and ten beautiful girls entered bearing a feast of rare
fruits and wines which they spread before them, and the young man,
who had been fasting since morning, fell to and ate as he had not
eaten for many a day.
The old man, who himself ate but little, waited patiently for the
other to end. “Now,” said he, as soon as the young man could eat no
more, “you have feasted and you have drunk; it is time for us to
work.”
Thereupon he rose from the couch and led the way, the young man
following, through an arch doorway into a garden, in the centre of
which was an open space paved with white marble, and in the centre
of that again a carpet, ragged and worn, spread out upon the smooth
stones. Without saying a word, the old man seated himself upon one
end of this carpet, and motioned to the spendthrift to seat himself
with his basket at the other end; then--
“Are you ready?” said the old man.
“Yes,” said the young man, “I am.”
“Then, by the horn of Jacob,” said the old man, “I command thee,
O Carpet! to bear us over hill and valley, over lake and river,
to that spot whither I wish to go.” Hardly had the words left his
mouth when away flew the carpet, swifter than the swiftest wind,
carrying the old man and the young spendthrift, until at last it
brought them to a rocky desert without leaf or blade of grass to be
seen far or near. Then it descended to where there was a circle of
sand as smooth as a floor.
[Illustration]
The old man rolled up the carpet, and then drew from a pouch that
hung at his side a box, and from the box some sticks of sandal and
spice woods, with which he built a little fire. Next he drew from
the same pouch a brazen jar, from which he poured a gray powder
upon the blaze. Instantly there leaped up a great flame of white
light and a cloud of smoke, which rose high in the air, and there
spread out until it hid everything from sight. Then the old man
began to mutter spells, and in answer the earth shook and quaked,
and a rumbling as of thunder filled the air. At last he gave a
loud cry, and instantly the earth split open, and there the young
spendthrift saw a trap-door of iron, in which was an iron ring to
lift it by.
“Look!” said the old man. “Yonder is the task for which I have
brought you; lift for me that trap-door of iron, for it is too
heavy for me to raise, and I will pay you well.”
And it was no small task, either, for, stout and strong as the
young man was, it was all he could do to lift up the iron plate.
But at last up it swung, and down below he saw a flight of stone
steps leading into the earth.
The old man drew from his bosom a copper lamp, which he lit at the
fire of the sandal and spice wood sticks, which had now nearly
died away. Then, leading the way, with the young man following
close at his heels, he descended the stairway that led down below.
At the bottom the two entered a great vaulted room, carved out
of the solid stone, upon the walls of which were painted strange
pictures in bright colors of kings and queens, genii and dragons.
Excepting for these painted figures, the vaulted room was perfectly
bare, only that in the centre of the floor there stood three stone
tables. Upon the first table stood an iron candlestick with three
branches; upon the second stood an earthen jar, empty of everything
but dust; upon the third stood a brass bowl, a yard wide and a
yard deep, and filled to the brim with shining, gleaming, dazzling
jewels of all sorts.
“Now,” said the old man to the spendthrift, “I will do to you
as I promised: I will pay you as never man was paid before for
such a task. Yonder upon those three stone tables are three great
treasures: choose whichever one you will, and it is yours.”
“I shall not be long in choosing,” cried the young spendthrift. “I
shall choose the brass bowl of jewels.”
The old man laughed. “So be it,” said he. “Fill your basket from
the bowl with all you can carry, and that will be enough, provided
you live wisely, to make you rich for as long as you live.”
The young man needed no second bidding, but began filling his
basket with both hands, until he had in it as much as he could
carry.
Then the old man, taking the iron candlestick and the earthen jar,
led the way up the stairway again. There the young man lowered the
iron trap-door to its place, and so soon as he had done so the
other stamped his heel upon the ground, and the earth closed of
itself as smooth and level as it had been before.
The two sat themselves upon the carpet, the one upon the one end,
and the other upon the other. “By the horn of Jacob,” said the old
man, “I command thee, O Carpet! to fly over hill and valley, over
lake and river, until thou hast brought us back whence we came.”
Away flew the carpet, and in a little time they were back in
the garden from which they had started upon their journey; and
there they parted company. “Go thy way, young man,” said the old
graybeard, “and henceforth try to live more wisely than thou hast
done heretofore. I know well who thou art, and how thou hast lived.
Shun thy evil companions, live soberly, and thou hast enough to
make thee rich for as long as thou livest.”
“Have no fear,” cried the young man, joyfully. “I have learned a
bitter lesson, and henceforth I will live wisely and well.”
So, filled with good resolves, the young man went the next day to
his creditors and paid his debts; he bought back the house which
his father had left him, and there began to lead a new life as he
had promised.
But a gray goose does not become white, nor a foolish man a wise
one.
At first he led a life sober enough; but by little and little he
began to take up with his old-time friends again, and by-and-by the
money went flying as merrily as ever, only this time he was twenty
times richer than he had been before, and he spent his money twenty
times as fast. Every day there was feasting and drinking going on
in his house, and roaring and rioting and dancing and singing. The
wealth of a king could not keep up such a life forever, so by the
end of a year and a half the last of the treasure was gone, and the
young spendthrift was just as poor as ever. Then once again his
friends left him as they had done before, and all that he could do
was to rap his head and curse his folly.
At last, one morning, he plucked up courage to go to the old man
who had helped him once before, to see whether he would not help
him again. Rap! tap! tap! he knocked at the door, and who should
open it but the old man himself. “Well,” said the graybeard, “what
do you want?”
“I want some help,” said the spendthrift; and then he told him
all, and the old man listened and stroked his beard.
[Illustration]
“By rights,” said he, when the young man had ended, “I should leave
you alone in your folly; for it is plain to see that nothing can
cure you of it. Nevertheless, as you helped me once, and as I have
more than I shall need, I will share what I have with you. Come in
and shut the door.”
He led the way, the spendthrift following, to a little room all of
bare stone, and in which were only three things--the magic carpet,
the iron candlestick, and the earthen jar. This last the old man
gave to the foolish spendthrift. “My friend,” said he, “when you
chose the money and jewels that day in the cavern, you chose the
less for the greater. Here is a treasure that an emperor might well
envy you. Whatever you wish for you will find by dipping your hand
into the jar. Now go your way, and let what has happened cure you
of your folly.”
“It shall,” cried the young man; “never again will I be so foolish
as I have been!” And thereupon he went his way with another
pocketful of good resolves.
The first thing he did when he reached home was to try the virtue
of his jar. “I should like,” said he, “to have a handful of just
such treasure as I brought from the cavern over yonder.” He dipped
his hand into the jar, and when he brought it out again it was
brimful of shining, gleaming, sparkling jewels. You can guess how
he felt when he saw them.
Well, this time a whole year went by, during which the young man
lived as soberly as a judge. But at the end of the twelvemonth he
was so sick of wisdom that he loathed it as one loathes bitter
drink. Then by little and little he began to take up with his old
ways again, and to call his old cronies around, until at the end of
another twelvemonth things were a hundred times worse and wilder
than ever; for now what he had he had without end.
One day, when he and a great party of roisterers were shouting
and making merry, he brought out his earthen-ware pot to show
them the wonders of it; and to prove its virtue he gave to each
guest whatever he wanted. “What will you have?”--“A handful of
gold.”--“Put your hand in and get it!”--“What will you have?”--“A
fistful of pearls.”--“Put your fist in and get them!”--“What will
you have?”--“A necklace of diamonds.”--“Dip into the jar and get
it.” And so he went from one to another, and each and every one got
what he asked for, and such a shouting and hubbub those walls had
never heard before.
Then the young man, holding the jar in his hands, began to dance
and to sing: “O wonderful jar! O beautiful jar! O beloved jar!” and
so on, his friends clapping their hands, and laughing and cheering
him. At last, in the height of his folly, he balanced the earthen
jar on his head, and began dancing around and around with it to
show his dexterity.
Smash! crash! The precious jar lay in fifty pieces on the stone
floor, and the young man stood staring at the result of his folly
with bulging eyes, while his friends roared and laughed and shouted
louder than ever over his mishap. And again his treasure and his
gay life were gone.
But what had been hard for him to do before was easier now. At the
end of a week he was back at the old man’s house, rapping on the
door. This time the old man asked him never a word, but frowned as
black as thunder.
“I know,” said he, “what has happened to you. If I were wise I
should let you alone in your folly; but once more I will have pity
on you and will help you, only this time it shall be the last.”
Once more he led the way to the stone room, where were the iron
candlestick and the magic carpet, and with him he took a good stout
cudgel. He stood the candlestick in the middle of the room, and
taking three candles from his pouch, thrust one into each branch.
Then he struck a light, and lit the first candle. Instantly there
appeared a little old man, clad in a long white robe, who began
dancing and spinning around and around like a top. He lit the
second candle, and a second old man appeared, and round and round
he went, spinning like his brother. He lit the third candle, and a
third old man appeared. Around and around and around they spun and
whirled, until the head spun and whirled to look at them. Then the
old graybeard gripped the cudgel in his hand. “Are you ready?” he
asked.
[Illustration]
“We are ready, and waiting,” answered the three. Thereupon, without
another word, the graybeard fetched each of the dancers a blow upon
the head with might and main--One! two! three! crack! crash! jingle!
Lo and behold! Instead of the three dancing men, there lay three
great heaps of gold upon the floor, and the spendthrift stood
staring like an owl. “There,” said the old man, “take what you
want, and then go your way, and trouble me no more.”
“Well,” said the spendthrift, “of all the wonders that ever I saw,
this is the most wonderful! But how am I to carry my gold away with
me, seeing I did not fetch my basket?”
“You shall have a basket,” said the old man, “if only you will
trouble me no more. Just wait here a moment until I bring it to
you.”
[Illustration]
The spendthrift was left all alone in the room; not a soul was
there but himself. He looked up, and he looked down, and scratched
his head. “Why,” he cried aloud, “should I be content to take a
part when I can have the whole?”
To do was as easy as to say. He snatched up the iron candlestick,
caught up the staff that the old man had left leaning against the
wall, and seated himself upon the magic carpet. “By the horn of
Jacob,” he cried, “I command thee, O Carpet! to carry me over hill
and valley, over lake and river, to a place where the old man can
never find me.”
Hardly had the words left his mouth than away flew the carpet
through the air, carrying him along with it; away and away,
higher than the clouds and swifter than the wind. Then at last it
descended to the earth again, and when the young spendthrift looked
about him, he found himself in just such a desert place as he and
the old man had come to when they had found the treasure. But he
gave no thought to that, and hardly looked around him to see where
he was. All that he thought of was to try his hand at the three
dancers that belonged to the candlestick. He struck a light, and
lit the three candles, and instantly the three little old men
appeared for him just as they had for the old graybeard. And around
and around they spun and whirled, until the sand and dust spun and
whirled along with them. Then the young man grasped his cudgel
tightly.
Now, he had not noticed that when the old man struck the three
dancers he had held the cudgel in his _left_ hand, for he was
not wise enough to know that great differences come from little
matters. He griped the cudgel in his right hand, and struck the
dancers with might and main, just as the old man had done. Crack!
crack! crack! One; two; three.
Did they change into piles of gold? Not a bit of it! Each of the
dancers drew from under his robe a cudgel as stout and stouter than
the one the young man himself held, and, without a word, fell upon
him and began to beat and drub him until the dust flew. In vain he
hopped and howled and begged for mercy, in vain he tried to defend
himself; the three never stopped until he fell to the ground, and
laid there panting and sighing and groaning; and then they left and
flew back with the iron candlestick and the magic carpet to the old
man again. At last, after a great while, the young spendthrift sat
up, rubbing the sore places; but when he looked around not a sign
was to be seen of anything but the stony desert, without a house or
a man in sight.
Perhaps, after a long time, he found his way home again, and
perhaps the drubbing he had had taught him wisdom; the first is a
likely enough thing to happen, but as for the second, it would need
three strong men to tell it to me a great many times before I would
believe it.
You may smile at this story if you like, but, all the same, as
certainly as there is meat in an egg-shell, so is there truth in
this nonsense. For, “Give a fool heaven and earth,” say I, “and
all the stars, and he will make ducks and drakes of them.”
[Illustration]
* * * * *
_Fortunatus lifted his canican to his lips and took a long, hearty
draught of ale. “Methinks,” said he, “that all your stories have a
twang of the same sort about them. You all of you, except my friend
the Soldier here, play the same tune upon a different fiddle.
Nobody comes to any good.”_
_St. George drew a long whiff of his pipe, and then puffed out
a cloud of smoke as big as his head. “Perhaps,” said he to
Fortunatus, “you know of a story which turns out differently. If
you do, let us have it, for it is your turn now.”_
_“Very well,” said Fortunatus, “I will tell you a story that turns
out as it should, where the lad marries a beautiful princess and
becomes a king into the bargain.”_
_“And what is your story about?” said the Lad who fiddled for the
Jew in the bramble-bush._
_“It is,” said Fortunatus, “about--”_
[Illustration]
The Good of a Few Words.
There was one Beppo the Wise and another Beppo the Foolish.
The wise one was the father of the foolish one.
Beppo the Wise was called Beppo the Wise because he had laid up a
great treasure after a long life of hard work.
Beppo the Foolish was called Beppo the Foolish because he spent in
five years after his father was gone from this world of sorrow all
that the old man had laid together in his long life of toil.
But during that time Beppo lived as a prince, and the like was
never seen in that town before or since--feasting and drinking and
junketing and merrymaking. He had friends by the dozen and by the
scores, and the fame of his doings went throughout all the land.
While his money lasted he was called Beppo the Generous. It was
only after it was all gone that they called him Beppo the Foolish.
So by-and-by the money was spent, and there was an end of it.
Yes; there was an end of it; and where were all of Beppo’s
fair-weather friends? Gone like the wild-geese in frosty weather.
“Don’t you remember how I gave you a bagful of gold?” says Beppo
the Foolish. “Won’t you remember me now in my time of need?”
But the fair-weather friend only laughed in his face.
“Don’t you remember how I gave you a fine gold chain with a diamond
pendant?” says Beppo to another. “And won’t you lend me a little
money to help me over to-day?”
But the summer-goose friend only grinned.
“But what shall I do to keep body and soul together?” says Beppo to
a third.
The man was a wit. “Go to a shoemaker,” said he, “and let him
stitch the soul fast;” and that was all the good Beppo had of him.
[Illustration]
Then poor Beppo saw that there was not place for him in that town,
and so off he went to seek his fortune elsewhither, for he saw that
there was nothing to be gained in that place.
So he journeyed on for a week and a day, and then towards evening
he came to the king’s town.
There it stood on the hill beside the river--the grandest city in
the kingdom. There were orchards and plantations of trees along the
banks of the stream, and gardens and summer-houses and pavilions.
There were white houses and red roofs and blue skies. Up above on
the hill were olive orchards and fields, and then blue sky again.
Beppo went into the town, gazing about him with admiration. Houses,
palaces, gardens. He had never seen the like. Stores and shops full
of cloths of velvet and silk and satin; goldsmiths, silversmiths,
jewellers--as though all the riches of the world had been emptied
into the city. Crowds of people--lords, noblemen, courtiers, rich
merchants, and tradesmen.
Beppo stared about at the fine sights and everybody stared at
Beppo, for his shoes were dusty, his clothes were travel-stained,
and a razor had not touched his face for a week.
The king of that country was walking in the garden under the shade
of the trees, and the sunlight slanted down upon him, and sparkled
upon the jewels around his neck and on his fingers. Two dogs
walked alongside of him, and a whole crowd of lords and nobles and
courtiers came behind him; first of all the prime-minister with his
long staff.
But for all this fine show this king was not really the king. When
the old king died he left a daughter, and she should have been
queen if she had had her own rights. But this king, who was her
uncle, had stepped in before her, and so the poor princess was
pushed aside and was nobody at all but a princess, the king’s niece.
She stood on the terrace with her old nurse, while the king walked
in the garden below.
It had been seven years now since the old king had died, and in
that time she had grown up into a beautiful young woman, as wise
as she was beautiful, and as good as she was wise. Few people ever
saw her, but everybody talked about her in whispers and praised her
beauty and goodness, saying that, if the right were done, she would
have her own and be queen.
Sometimes the king heard of this (for a king hears everything), and
he grew to hate the princess as a man hates bitter drink.
The princess looked down from the terrace, and there she saw Beppo
walking along the street, and his shoes were dusty and his clothes
were travel-stained, and a razor had not touched his face for a
week.
“Look at yonder poor man,” she said to her nurse; “yet if I were
his wife he would be greater really than my uncle, the king.”
The king, walking below in the garden, heard what she said.
“Say you so!” he called out. “Then we shall try if what you say is
true;” and he turned away, shaking with anger.
“Alas!” said the princess, “now, indeed, have I ruined myself for
good and all.”
* * * * *
Beppo was walking along the street looking about him hither and
thither, and thinking how fine it all was. He had no more thought
that the king and the princess were talking about him than the man
in the moon.
Suddenly some one clapped him upon the shoulder.
Beppo turned around.
There stood a great tall man dressed all in black.
“You must come with me,” said he.
“What do you want with me?” said Beppo.
[Illustration]
“That you shall see for yourself,” said the man.
“Very well,” said Beppo; “I’d as lief go along with you as anywhere
else.”
So he turned and followed the man whither he led.
They went along first one street and then another, and by-and-by
they came to the river, and there was a long wall with a gate in
it. The tall man in black knocked upon the gate, and some one
opened it from within. The man in black entered, and Beppo followed
at his heels, wondering where he was going.
He was in a garden. There were fruit trees and flowering shrubs and
long marble walks, and away in the distance a great grand palace
of white marble that shone red as fire in the light of the setting
sun, but there was not a soul to be seen anywhere.
The tall man in black led the way up the long marble walk, past the
fountains and fruit trees and beds of roses, until he had come to
the palace.
Beppo wondered whether he were dreaming.
The tall man in black led the way into the palace, but still there
was not a soul to be seen.
Beppo gazed about him in wonder. There were floors of colored
marble, and ceilings of blue and gold, and columns of carved
marble, and hangings of silk and velvet and silver.
[Illustration]
Suddenly the tall man opened a little door that led into a dark
passage, and Beppo followed him. They went along the passage, and
then the man opened another door.
Then Beppo found himself in a great vaulted room. There at one end
of the room were three souls. A man sat on the throne, and he was
the king, for he had a crown on his head and a long robe over his
shoulders. Beside him stood a priest, and in front of him stood a
beautiful young woman as white as wax and as still as death.
Beppo wondered whether he were awake.
“Come hither,” said the king, in a harsh voice, and Beppo came
forward and kneeled before him. “Take this young woman by the
hand,” said the king.
Beppo did as he was bidden.
Her hand was as cold as ice.
Then, before Beppo knew what was happening, he found that he was
being married.
It was the princess.
“Now,” said the king to her when the priest had ended, and he
frowned until his brows were as black as thunder--“now you are
married; tell me, is your husband greater than I?”
But the princess said never a word, only the tears ran one after
another down her white face. The king sat staring at her and
frowning.
[Illustration]
Suddenly some one tapped Beppo upon the shoulder. It was the tall
man in black.
Beppo knew that he was to follow him again. This time the princess
was to go along. The tall man in black led the way, and Beppo and
the princess followed along the secret passage and up and down the
stairs until at last they came out into the garden again.
And now the evening was beginning to fall.
The man led the way down the garden to the river, and still Beppo
and the princess followed him.
By-and-by they came to the river-side and to a flight of steps, and
there was a little frail boat without sail or oars.
The tall man in black beckoned towards the boat, and Beppo knew
that he and the princess were to enter it.
As soon as Beppo had helped the princess into the boat the tall man
thrust it out into the stream with his foot, and the boat drifted
away from the shore and out into the river, and then around and
around. Then it floated off down the stream.
It floated on and on, and the sun set and the moon rose.
Beppo looked at the princess, and he thought he had never seen
any one so beautiful in all his life. It was all like a dream, and
he hoped he might never awaken. But the princess sat there weeping
and weeping, and said nothing.
[Illustration]
The night fell darker and darker, but still Beppo sat looking at
the princess. Her face was as white as silver in the moonlight.
The smell of the flower-gardens came across the river. The boat
floated on and on until by-and-by it drifted to the shore again and
among the river reeds, and there it stopped, and Beppo carried the
princess ashore.
“Listen,” said the princess. “Do you know who I am?”
“No,” said Beppo, “I do not.”
“I am the princess,” said she, “the king’s niece; and by rights I
should be queen of this land.”
Beppo could not believe his ears.
“It is true that I am married to you,” said she, “but never shall
you be my husband until you are king.”
“King!” said Beppo; “how can I be king?”
“You shall be king,” said the princess.
“But the king is everything,” said Beppo, “and I am nothing at
all.”
“Great things come from small beginnings,” said the princess; “a
big tree from a little seed.”
Some little distance away from the river was the twinkle of a
light, and thither Beppo led the princess. When the two came to it,
they found it was a little hut, for there were fish-nets hanging
outside in the moonlight.
Beppo knocked.
An old woman opened the door. She stared and stared, as well she
might, to see the fine lady in silks and satins with a gold ring
upon her finger, and nobody with her but one who looked like a poor
beggar-man.
“Who are you and what do you want?” said the old woman.
“Who we are,” said the princess, “does not matter, except that we
are honest folk in trouble. What we want is shelter for the night
and food to eat, and that we will pay for.”
“Shelter I can give you,” said the old woman, “but little else but
a crust of bread and a cup of water. One time there was enough and
plenty in the house; but now, since my husband has gone and I am
left all alone, it is little I have to eat and drink. But such as I
have to give you are welcome to.”
Then Beppo and the princess went into the house.
* * * * *
The next morning the princess called Beppo to her. “Here,” said
she, “is a ring and a letter. Go you into the town and inquire for
Sebastian the Goldsmith. He will know what to do.”
Beppo took the ring and the letter and started off to town, and it
was not hard for him to find the man he sought, for every one knew
of Sebastian the Goldsmith. He was an old man, with a great white
beard and a forehead like the dome of a temple. He looked at Beppo
from head to foot with eyes as bright as those of a snake; then he
took the ring and the letter. As soon as he saw the ring he raised
it to his lips and kissed it; then he kissed the letter also; then
he opened it and read it.
He turned to Beppo and bowed very low. “My lord,” said he, “I will
do as I am commanded. Will you be pleased to follow me?”
He led the way into an inner room. There were soft rugs upon the
floor, and around the walls were tapestries. There were couches and
silken cushions. Beppo wondered what it all meant.
Sebastian the Goldsmith clapped his hands together. A door opened,
and there came three black slaves into the room. The Goldsmith
spoke to them in a strange language, and the chief of the three
black slaves bowed in reply. Then he and the others led Beppo into
another room where there was a marble bath of tepid water. They
bathed him and rubbed him with soft linen towels; then they shaved
the beard from his cheeks and chin and trimmed his hair; then they
clothed him in fine linen and a plain suit of gray and Beppo looked
like a new man.
[Illustration]
Then when all this was done the chief of the blacks conducted Beppo
back to Sebastian the Goldsmith. There was a fine feast spread,
with fruit and wine. Beppo sat down to it, and Sebastian the
Goldsmith stood and served him with a napkin over his arm.
Then Beppo was to return to the princess again.
A milk-white horse was waiting for him at the Goldsmith’s door, a
servant holding the bridle, and Beppo mounted and rode away.
When he returned to the fisherman’s hut the princess was waiting
for him. She had prepared a tray spread with a napkin, a cup of
milk, and some sweet cakes.
“Listen,” said she; “to-day the king hunts in the forest over
yonder. Go you thither with this. The king will be hot and thirsty,
and weary with the chase. Offer him this refreshment. He will eat
and drink, and in gratitude he will offer you something in return.
Take nothing of him, but ask him this: that he allow you once every
three days to come to the palace, and that he whisper these words
in your ear so that no one else may hear them--‘A word, a word,
only a few words; spoken ill, they are ill; spoken well, they are
more precious than gold and jewels.’”
“Why should I do that?” said Beppo.
“You will see,” said the princess.
Beppo did not understand it at all, but the princess is a princess
and must be obeyed, and so he rode away on his horse at her bidding.
It was as the princess had said: the king was hunting in the
forest, and when Beppo came there he could hear the shouts of the
men and the winding of horns and the baying of dogs. He waited
there for maybe an hour or more, and sometimes the sounds were
nearer and sometimes the sounds were farther away. Presently they
came nearer and nearer, and then all of a sudden the king came
riding out of the forest, the hounds hunting hither and thither,
and the lords and nobles and courtiers following him.
The king’s face was flushed and heated with the chase, and his
forehead was bedewed with sweat. Beppo came forward and offered the
tray. The king wiped his face with the napkin, and then drank the
milk and ate three of the cakes.
“Who was it ordered you to bring this to me?” said he to Beppo.
“No one,” said Beppo; “I brought it myself.”
The king looked at Beppo and was grateful to him.
“Thou hast given me pleasure and comfort,” said he; “ask what thou
wilt in return and if it is in reason thou shalt have it.”
“I will have only this,” said Beppo: “that your majesty will allow
me once every three days to come to the palace, and that then you
will take me aside and will whisper these words into my ear so
that no one else may hear them--‘A word, a word, only a few words;
spoken ill, they are ill; spoken well, they are more precious than
gold and jewels.’”
The king burst out laughing. “Why,” said he, “what is this foolish
thing you ask of me? If you had asked for a hundred pieces of gold
you should have had them. Think better, friend, and ask something
of more worth than this foolish thing.”
“Please your majesty,” said Beppo, “I ask nothing else.”
The king laughed again. “Then you shall have what you ask,” said
he, and he rode away.
* * * * *
The next morning the princess said to Beppo: “This day you shall
go and claim the king’s promise of him. Take this ring and this
letter again to Sebastian the Goldsmith. He will fit you with
clothes in which to appear before the king. Then go to the king’s
palace that he may whisper those words he has to say into your ear.”
[Illustration]
Once more Beppo went to Sebastian the Goldsmith, and the Goldsmith
kissed the princess’s ring and letter, and then read what she had
written.
Again the black slaves took Beppo to the bath, only this time they
clad him in a fine suit of velvet and hung a gold chain about his
neck. After that Sebastian the Goldsmith again served a feast to
Beppo, and waited upon him while he ate and drank.
In front of the house a noble horse, as black as jet, was waiting
to carry Beppo to the palace, and two servants dressed in velvet
livery were waiting to attend him.
So Beppo rode away, and many people stopped to look at him.
He came to the palace, and the king was giving audience. Beppo went
into the great audience-chamber. It was full of people--lords and
nobles and rich merchants and lawyers.
Beppo did not know how to come to the king, so he stood there and
waited and waited. The people looked at him and whispered to one
another: “Who is that young man?” “Whence comes he?” Then one
said: “Is not he the young man who served the king with cakes and
milk in the forest yesterday?”
[Illustration]
Beppo stood there gazing at the king. By-and-by the king suddenly
looked up and caught sight of him. He gazed at Beppo for a moment
or two and then he knew him. Then he smiled and beckoned to him.
“Aye, my foolish benefactor,” said he, aloud, “is it thou, and art
thou come so soon to redeem thy promise? Very well; come hither, I
have something to say to thee.”
Beppo came forward, and everybody stared. He came close to the
king, and the king laid his hand upon his shoulder. Then he leaned
over to Beppo and whispered in his ear: “A word, a word, only a few
words; if they be spoken ill, they are ill; if they be spoken well,
they are more precious than gold and jewels.” Then he laughed. “Is
that what you would have me say?” said he.
“Yes, majesty,” said Beppo, and he bowed low and withdrew.
But, lo and behold, what a change!
Suddenly he was transformed in the eyes of the whole world. The
crowd drew back to allow him to pass, and everybody bowed low as he
went along.
“Did you not see the king whisper to him,” said one. “What could
it be that the king said?” said another. “This must be a new
favorite,” said a third.
He had come into the palace Beppo the Foolish; he went forth
Beppo the Great Man, and all because of a few words the king had
whispered in his ear.
* * * * *
Three days passed, and then Beppo went again to the Goldsmith’s
with the ring and a letter from the princess. This time Sebastian
the Goldsmith fitted him with a suit of splendid plum-colored
silk and gave him a dappled horse, and again Beppo and his two
attendants rode away to the palace. And this time every one knew
him, and as he went up the steps into the palace all present bowed
to him. The king saw him as soon as he appeared, and when he caught
sight of him he burst out laughing.
“Aye,” said he, “I was looking for thee to-day, and wondering how
soon thou wouldst come. Come hither till I whisper something in
thine ear.”
Then all the lords and nobles and courtiers and ministers drew
back, and Beppo went up to the king.
The king laughed and laughed. He laid his arm over Beppo’s
shoulder, and again he whispered in his ear: “A word, a word, only
a few words; if they be spoken ill, they are ill; if they be spoken
well, they are more precious than gold and jewels.”
Then he released Beppo, and Beppo withdrew.
* * * * *
So it continued for three months. Every three days Beppo went to
the palace, and the king whispered the words in his ear. Beppo said
nothing to any one, and always went away as soon as the king had
whispered to him.
Then at last the princess said to him: “Now the time is ripe for
doing. Listen! To-day when you go to the palace fix your eyes,
when the king speaks to you, upon the prime-minister, and shake
your head. The prime-minister will ask you what the king said. Say
nothing to him but this: ‘Alas, my poor friend!’”
It was all just as the princess had said.
The king was walking in the garden, with his courtiers and
ministers about him. Beppo came to him, and the king, as he always
did, laid his hand upon Beppo’s shoulder and whispered in his ear:
“A word, a word, only a few words; if they be spoken ill, they are
ill; if they be spoken well, they are more precious than gold and
jewels.”
While the king was saying these words to Beppo, Beppo was looking
fixedly at the prime-minister. While he did so he shook his head
three times. Then he bowed low and walked away.
[Illustration]
He had not gone twenty paces before some one tapped him upon the
arm; it was the prime-minister. Beppo gazed fixedly at him. “Alas,
my poor friend!” said he.
The prime-minister turned pale. “It was, then, as I thought,” said
he. “The king spoke about me. Will you not tell me what he said?”
Beppo shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” said he, and then he
walked on.
The prime-minister still followed him.
“My lord,” said he, “I have been aware that his majesty has not
been the same to me for more than a week past. If it was about the
princess, pray tell his majesty that I meant nothing ill when I
spoke of her to him.”
Beppo shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” he said.
The prime-minister’s lips trembled. “My lord,” said he, “I have
always had the kindest regard for you, and if there is anything in
my power that I can do for you I hope you will command me. I know
how much you are in his majesty’s confidence. Will you not speak a
few words to set the matter straight?”
Beppo again shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” said he, and
then he got upon his horse and rode away.
Three days passed.
“This morning,” said the princess, “when you go to the king, look
at the prime-minister when the king speaks to you, and smile. The
prime-minister will again speak to you, and this time say, ‘It is
well, and I wish you joy.’ Take what he gives you, for it will be
of use.”
Again all happened just as the princess said.
Beppo came to the palace, and again the king whispered in his ear.
As he did so Beppo looked at the prime-minister and smiled, and
then he withdrew.
The prime-minister followed him. He trembled. “It is well,” said
Beppo, “and I wish you joy.”
The prime-minister grasped his hand and wrung it. “My lord,” said
he, “how can I express my gratitude! The palace of my son that
stands by the river--I would that you would use it for your own, if
I may be so bold as to offer it to you.”
“I will,” said Beppo, “use it as my own.”
The prime-minister wrung his hand again, and then Beppo rode away.
The next time that Beppo spoke to the king, at the princess’s
bidding, he looked at the lord-treasurer, and said, as he had said
to the prime-minister, “Alas, my poor friend!”
When he rode away he left the lord-treasurer as white as ashes to
the very lips.
Three days passed, and then, while the king talked to Beppo, Beppo
looked at the lord-treasurer and smiled.
The lord-treasurer followed him to the door of the palace.
“It is well, and I wish you joy,” said Beppo.
The treasurer offered him a fortune.
The next time it was the same with the captain of the guards. First
Beppo pitied him, and then he wished him joy.
“My lord,” said the captain of the guards, “my services are yours
at any time.”
Then the same thing happened to the governor of the city, then to
this lord, and then to that lord.
Beppo grew rich and powerful beyond measure.
Then one day the princess said: “Now we will go into the town, and
to the palace of the prime-minister’s son, which the prime-minister
gave you, for the time is ripe for the end.”
* * * * *
In a few days all the court knew that Beppo was living like a
prince in the prime-minister’s palace. The king began to wonder
what it all meant, and how all such good-fortune had come to
Beppo. He had grown very tired of always speaking to Beppo the same
words.
[Illustration]
But Beppo was now great among the great; all the world paid court
to him, and bowed down to him, almost as they did before the king.
“Now,” said the princess, “the time has come to strike. Bid all the
councillors, and all the lords, and all the nobles to meet here
three days hence, for it is now or never that you shall win all and
become king.”
Beppo did as she bade. He asked all of the great people of the
kingdom to come to him, and they came. When they were all gathered
together at Beppo’s house, they found two thrones set as though for
a king and a queen, but there was no sign of Beppo, and everybody
wondered what it all meant.
Suddenly the door opened and Beppo came into the room, leading by
the hand a lady covered with a veil from head to foot.
Everybody stopped speaking and stood staring while Beppo led the
veiled lady up to one of the thrones. He seated himself upon the
other.
The lady stood up and dropped her veil, and then every one knew her.
It was the princess.
“Do you not know me?” said she; “I am the queen, and this is my
husband. He is your king.”
All stood silent for a moment, and then a great shout went up.
“Long live the queen! Long live the king!”
The princess turned to the captain of the guards. “You have offered
your services to my husband,” said she; “his commands and my
commands are that you march to the palace and cast out him who hath
no right there.”
“It shall be done,” said the captain of the guards.
* * * * *
All the troops were up in arms, and the town was full of tumult and
confusion. About midnight they brought the false king before King
Beppo and the queen. The false king stood there trembling like a
leaf. The queen stood gazing at him steadily. “Behold, this is the
husband that thou gavest me,” said she. “It is as I said; he is
greater than thou. For, lo, he is king! What art thou?”
* * * * *
The false king was banished out of the country, and the poor
fisherman’s wife, who had entertained the princess for all this
time, came to live at the palace, where all was joy and happiness.
* * * * *
“_Friend,” said St. George, “I like your story. Ne’th’less, ’tis
like a strolling pedler, in that it carries a great pack of ills
to begin with, to get rid of ’em all before it gets to the end
of its journey. However, ’tis as you say--it ends with everybody
merry and feasting, and so I like it. But now methinks our little
friend yonder is big with a story of his own;” and he pointed, as
he spoke, with the stem of his pipe to a little man whom I knew was
the brave Tailor who had killed seven flies at a blow, for he still
had around his waist the belt with the legend that he himself had
worked upon it._
_“Aye,” piped the Tailor in a keen, high voice, “’tis true I have a
story inside of me. ’Tis about another tailor who had a great, big,
black, ugly demon to wait upon him and to sew his clothes for him.”_
_“And the name of that story, my friend,” said the Soldier who had
cheated the Devil, “is what?”_
_“It hath no name,” piped the little Tailor, “but I will give it
one, and it shall be--”_
[Illustration]
Woman’s Wit.
_=When man’s strength fails, woman’s wit prevails.=_
In the days when the great and wise King Solomon lived and ruled,
evil spirits and demons were as plentiful in the world as wasps in
summer.
So King Solomon, who was so wise and knew so many potent spells
that he had power over evil such as no man has had before or since,
set himself to work to put those enemies of mankind out of the
way. Some he conjured into bottles, and sank into the depths of the
sea; some he buried in the earth; some he destroyed altogether, as
one burns hair in a candle-flame.
Now, one pleasant day when King Solomon was walking in his garden
with his hands behind his back, and his thoughts busy as bees with
this or that, he came face to face with a Demon, who was a prince
of his kind. “Ho, little man!” cried the evil spirit, in a loud
voice, “art not thou the wise King Solomon who conjures my brethren
into brass chests and glass bottles? Come, try a fall at wrestling
with me, and whoever conquers shall be master over the other for
all time. What do you say to such an offer as that?”
“I say aye!” said King Solomon, and, without another word, he
stripped off his royal robes and stood bare breasted, man to man
with the other.
The world never saw the like of that wrestling-match betwixt the
king and the Demon, for they struggled and strove together from
the seventh hour in the morning to the sunset in the evening, and
during that time the sky was clouded over as black as night, and
the lightning forked and shot, and the thunder roared and bellowed,
and the earth shook and quaked.
But at last the king gave the enemy an under twist, and flung him
down on the earth so hard that the apples fell from the trees; and
then, panting and straining, he held the evil one down, knee on
neck. Thereupon the sky presently cleared again, and all was as
pleasant as a spring day.
King Solomon bound the Demon with spells, and made him serve him
for seven years. First, he had him build a splendid palace, the
like of which was not to be seen within the bounds of the seven
rivers; then he made him set around the palace a garden, such as I
for one wish I may see some time or other. Then, when the Demon had
done all that the king wished, the king conjured him into a bottle,
corked it tightly, and set the royal seal on the stopper. Then he
took the bottle a thousand miles away into the wilderness, and,
when no man was looking, buried it in the ground, and this is the
way the story begins.
* * * * *
Well, the years came and the years went, and the world grew older
and older, and kept changing (as all things do but two), so that
by-and-by the wilderness where King Solomon had hid the bottle
became a great town, with people coming and going, and all as busy
as bees about their own business and other folks’ affairs.
Among these towns-people was a little Tailor, who made clothes for
many a worse man to wear, and who lived all alone in a little house
with no one to darn his stockings for him, and no one to meddle
with his coming and going, for he was a bachelor.
The little Tailor was a thrifty soul, and by hook and crook had
laid by enough money to fill a small pot, and then he had to
bethink himself of some safe place to hide it. So one night he took
a spade and a lamp and went out in the garden to bury his money.
He drove his spade into the ground--and click! He struck something
hard that rang under his foot with a sound as of iron. “Hello!”
said he, “what have we here?” and if he had known as much as you
and I do, he would have filled in the earth, and tramped it down,
and have left that plate of broth for somebody else to burn his
mouth with.
As it was, he scraped away the soil, and then he found a box of
adamant, with a ring in the lid to lift it by. The Tailor clutched
the ring and bent his back, and up came the box with the damp
earth sticking to it. He cleaned the mould away, and there he saw,
written in red letters, these words:
“_Open not._”
[Illustration]
You may be sure that after he had read these words he was not long
in breaking open the lid of the box with his spade.
Inside the first box he found a second, and upon it the same words:
“_Open not._”
Within the second box was another, and within that still another,
until there were seven in all, and on each was written the same
words:
“_Open not._”
Inside the seventh box was a roll of linen, and inside that a
bottle filled with nothing but blue smoke; and I wish that bottle
had burned the Tailor’s fingers when he touched it.
“And is this all?” said the little Tailor, turning the bottle
upside down and shaking it, and peeping at it by the light of the
lamp. “Well, since I have gone so far I might as well open it, as I
have already opened the seven boxes.” Thereupon he broke the seal
that stoppered it.
Pop! Out flew the cork, and--Puff! Out came the smoke; not all at
once, but in a long thread that rose up as high as the stars, and
then spread until it hid their light.
The Tailor stared and goggled and gaped to see so much smoke come
out of such a little bottle, and, as he goggled and stared, the
smoke began to gather together again, thicker and thicker, and
darker and darker, until it was as black as ink. Then out from it
there stepped one with eyes that shone like sparks of fire, and who
had a countenance so terrible that the Tailor’s skin quivered and
shrivelled, and his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth at the
sight of it.
“Who art thou?” said the terrible being, in a voice that made the
very marrow of the poor Tailor’s bones turn soft from terror.
“If you please, sir,” said he, “I am only a little tailor.”
The evil being lifted up both hands and eyes. “How wonderful,” he
cried, “that one little tailor can undo in a moment that which took
the wise Solomon a whole day to accomplish, and in the doing of
which he wellnigh broke the sinews of his heart!” Then, turning to
the Tailor, who stood trembling like a rabbit, “Hark thee!” said
he. “For two thousand years I lay there in that bottle, and no one
came nigh to aid me. Thou hast liberated me, and thou shalt not go
unrewarded. Every morning at the seventh hour I will come to thee,
and I will perform for thee whatever task thou mayest command me.
But there is one condition attached to the agreement, and woe be to
thee if that condition is broken. If any morning I should come to
thee, and thou hast no task for me to do, I shall wring thy neck as
thou mightest wring the neck of a sparrow.” Thereupon he was gone
in an instant, leaving the little Tailor half dead with terror.
Now it happened that the prime-minister of that country had left an
order with the Tailor for a suit of clothes, so the next morning,
when the Demon came, the little man set him to work on the bench,
with his legs tucked up like a journeyman tailor. “I want,” said
he, “such and such a suit of clothes.”
“You shall have them,” said the Demon; and thereupon he began
snipping in the air, and cutting most wonderful patterns of silks
and satins out of nothing at all, and the little Tailor sat and
gaped and stared. Then the Demon began to drive the needle like a
spark of fire--the like was never seen in all the seven kingdoms,
for the clothes seemed to make themselves.
At last, at the end of a little while, the Demon stood up and
brushed his hands. “They are done,” said he, and thereupon he
instantly vanished. But the Tailor cared little for that, for upon
the bench there lay such a suit of clothes of silk and satin
stuff, sewed with threads of gold and silver and set with jewels,
as the eyes of man never saw before; and the Tailor packed them up
and marched off with them himself to the prime-minister.
[Illustration]
The prime-minister wore the clothes to court that very day, and
before evening they were the talk of the town. All the world ran to
the Tailor and ordered clothes of him, and his fortune was made.
Every day the Demon created new suits of clothes out of nothing at
all, so that the Tailor grew as rich as a Jew, and held his head up
in the world.
As time went along he laid heavier and heavier tasks upon the
Demon’s back, and demanded of him more and more; but all the while
the Demon kept his own counsel, and said never a word.
One morning, as the Tailor sat in his shop window taking the world
easy--for he had little or nothing to do now--he heard a great
hubbub in the street below, and when he looked down he saw that
it was the king’s daughter passing by. It was the first time that
the Tailor had seen her, and when he saw her his heart stood still
within him, and then began fluttering like a little bird, for one
so beautiful was not to be met with in the four corners of the
world. Then she was gone.
[Illustration]
All that day the little Tailor could do nothing but sit and think
of the princess, and the next morning when the Demon came he was
thinking of her still.
“What hast thou for me to do to-day?” said the Demon, as he always
said of a morning.
The little Tailor was waiting for the question.
“I would like you,” said he, “to send to the king’s palace, and to
ask him to let me have his daughter for my wife.”
“Thou shalt have thy desire,” said the Demon. Thereupon he smote
his hands together like a clap of thunder, and instantly the walls
of the room clove asunder, and there came out four-and-twenty
handsome youths, clad in cloth of gold and silver. After these
four-and-twenty there came another one who was the chief of them
all, and before whom, splendid as they were, the four-and-twenty
paled like stars in daylight. “Go to the king’s palace,” said
the Demon to that one, “and deliver this message: The Tailor of
Tailors, the Master of Masters, and One Greater than a King asks
for his daughter to wife.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the other, and bowed his forehead to the
earth.
Never was there such a hubbub in the town as when those
five-and-twenty, in their clothes of silver and gold, rode through
the streets to the king’s palace. As they came near, the gates of
the palace flew open before them, and the king himself came out to
meet them. The leader of the five-and-twenty leaped from his horse,
and, kissing the ground before the king, delivered his message:
“The Tailor of Tailors, the Master of Masters, and One Greater than
a King asks for thy daughter to wife.”
When the king heard what the messenger said, he thought and
pondered a long time. At last he said, “If he who sent you is the
Master of Masters, and greater than a king, let him send me an
asking gift such as no king could send.”
“It shall be as you desire,” said the messenger, and thereupon the
five-and-twenty rode away as they had come, followed by crowds of
people.
The next morning when the Demon came the tailor was ready and
waiting for him. “What hast thou for me to do to-day?” said the
Evil One.
“I want,” said the tailor, “a gift to send to the king such as no
other king could send him.”
“Thou shalt have thy desire,” said the Demon. Thereupon he smote
his hands together, and summoned, not five-and-twenty young men,
but fifty youths, all clad in clothes more splendid than the others.
All of the fifty sat upon coal-black horses, with saddles of
silver and housings of silk and velvet embroidered with gold. In
the midst of all the five-and-seventy there rode a youth in cloth
of silver embroidered in pearls. In his hand he bore something
wrapped in a white napkin, and that was the present for the king
such as no other king could give. So said the Demon: “Take it to
the royal palace, and tell his majesty that it is from the Tailor
of Tailors, the Master of Masters, and One Greater than a King.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the young man, and then they all rode
away.
When they came to the palace the gates flew open before them, and
the king came out to meet them. The young man who bore the present
dismounted and prostrated himself in the dust, and, when the king
bade him arise, he unwrapped the napkin, and gave to the king a
goblet made of one single ruby, and filled to the brim with pieces
of gold. Moreover, the cup was of such a kind that whenever it was
emptied of its money it instantly became full again. “The Tailor of
Tailors, and Master of Masters, and One Greater than a King sends
your majesty this goblet, and bids me, his ambassador, to ask for
your daughter,” said the young man.
When the king saw what had been sent him he was filled with
amazement. “Surely,” said he to himself, “there can be no end to
the power of one who can give such a gift as this.” Then to the
messenger, “Tell your master that he shall have my daughter for his
wife if he will build over yonder a palace such as no man ever saw
or no king ever lived in before.”
[Illustration]
“It shall be done,” said the young man, and then they all went
away, as the others had done the day before.
The next morning when the Demon appeared the Tailor was ready for
him. “Build me,” said he, “such and such a palace in such and such
a place.”
And the Demon said, “It shall be done.” He smote his hands
together, and instantly there came a cloud of mist that covered and
hid the spot where the palace was to be built. Out from the cloud
there came such a banging and hammering and clapping and clattering
as the people of that town never heard before. Then when evening
had come the cloud arose, and there, where the king had pointed
out, stood a splendid palace as white as snow, with roofs and domes
of gold and silver. As the king stood looking and wondering at this
sight, there came five hundred young men riding, and one in the
midst of all who wore a golden crown on his head, and upon his body
a long robe stiff with diamonds and pearls. “We come,” said he,
“from the Tailor of Tailors, and Master of Masters, and One Greater
than a King, to ask you to let him have your daughter for his wife.”
“Tell him to come!” cried the king, in admiration, “for the
princess is his.”
The next morning when the Demon came he found the Tailor dancing
and shouting for joy. “The princess is mine!” he cried, “so make me
ready for her.”
“It shall be done,” said the Demon, and thereupon he began to make
the Tailor ready for his wedding. He brought him to a marble bath
of water, in which he washed away all that was coarse and ugly,
and from which the little man came forth as beautiful as the sun.
Then the Demon clad him in the finest linen, and covered him with
clothes such as even the emperor of India never wore. Then he smote
his hands together, and the wall of the tailor-shop opened as it
had done twice before, and there came forth forty slaves clad in
crimson, and bearing bowls full of money in their hands. After them
came two leading a horse as white as snow, with a saddle of gold
studded with diamonds and rubies and emeralds and sapphires. After
came a bodyguard of twenty warriors clad in gold armor. Then the
Tailor mounted his horse and rode away to the king’s palace, and
as he rode the slaves scattered the money amongst the crowd, who
scrambled for it and cheered the Tailor to the skies.
* * * * *
That night the princess and the Tailor were married, and all the
town was lit with bonfires and fireworks. The two rode away in the
midst of a great crowd of nobles and courtiers to the palace which
the Demon had built for the Tailor; and, as the princess gazed upon
him, she thought that she had never beheld so noble and handsome a
man as her husband. So she and the Tailor were the happiest couple
in the world.
But the next morning the Demon appeared as he had appeared ever
since the Tailor had let him out of the bottle, only now he grinned
till his teeth shone and his face turned black. “What hast thou
for me to do?” said he, and at the words the Tailor’s heart began
to quake, for he remembered what was to happen to him when he
could find the Demon no more work to do--that his neck was to be
wrung--and now he began to see that he had all that he could ask
for in the world. Yes; what was there to ask for now?
“I have nothing more for you to do,” said he to the Demon; “you
have done all that man could ask--you may go now.”
“Go!” cried the Demon, “I shall not go until I have done all that
I have to do. Give me work, or I shall wring your neck.” And his
fingers began to twitch.
Then the Tailor began to see into what a net he had fallen. He
began to tremble like one in an ague. He turned his eyes up and
down, for he did not know where to look for aid. Suddenly, as he
looked out of the window, a thought struck him. “Maybe,” thought
he, “I can give, the Demon such a task that even he cannot do it.”
“Yes, yes!” he cried, “I have thought of something for you to do.
Make me out yonder in front of my palace a lake of water a mile
long and a mile wide, and let it be lined throughout with white
marble, and filled with water as clear as crystal.”
“It shall be done,” said the Demon. As he spoke he spat in the air,
and instantly a thick fog arose from the earth and hid everything
from sight. Then presently from the midst of the fog there came a
great noise of chipping and hammering, of digging and delving, of
rushing and gurgling. All day the noise and the fog continued, and
then at sunset the one ceased and the other cleared away. The poor
Tailor looked out the window, and when he saw what he saw his teeth
chattered in his head, for there was a lake a mile long and a mile
broad, lined within with white marble, and filled with water as
clear as crystal, and he knew that the Demon would come the next
morning for another task to do.
That night he slept little or none, and when the seventh hour of
the morning came the castle began to rock and tremble, and there
stood the Demon, and his hair bristled and his eyes shone like
sparks of fire. “What hast thou for me to do?” said he, and the
poor Tailor could do nothing but look at him with a face as white
as dough.
“What hast thou for me to do?” said the Demon again, and then at
last the Tailor found his wits and his tongue from sheer terror.
“Look!” said he, “at the great mountain over yonder; remove it,
and make in its place a level plain with fields and orchards and
gardens.” And he thought to himself when he had spoken, “Surely,
even the Demon cannot do that.”
“It shall be done,” said the Demon, and, so saying, he stamped his
heel upon the ground. Instantly the earth began to tremble and
quake, and there came a great rumbling like the sound of thunder.
A cloud of darkness gathered in the sky, until at last all was
as black as the blackest midnight. Then came a roaring and a
cracking and a crashing, such as man never heard before. All day it
continued, until the time of the setting of the sun, when suddenly
the uproar ceased, and the darkness cleared away; and when the
Tailor looked out of the window the mountain was gone, and in its
place were fields and orchards and gardens.
It was very beautiful to see, but when the Tailor beheld it his
knees began to smite together, and the sweat ran down his face in
streams. All that night he walked up and down and up and down, but
he could not think of one other task for the Demon to do.
[Illustration]
When the next morning came the Demon appeared like a whirlwind. His
face was as black as ink and smoke, and sparks of fire flew from
his nostrils.
“What have you for me to do?” cried he.
“I have nothing for you to do!” piped the poor Tailor.
“Nothing?” cried the Demon.
“Nothing.”
“Then prepare to die.”
“Stop!” said the Tailor, falling on his knees, “let me first see my
wife.”
“So be it,” said the Demon, and if he had been wiser he would have
said “No.”
When the Tailor came to the princess, he flung himself on his face,
and began to weep and wail. The princess asked him what was the
matter, and at last, by dint of question, got the story from him,
piece by piece. When she had it all she began laughing. “Why did
you not come to me before?” said she, “instead of making all this
trouble and uproar for nothing at all? I will give the Monster
a task to do.” She plucked a single curling hair from her head.
“Here,” said she, “let him take this hair and make it straight.”
The Tailor was full of doubt; nevertheless, as there was nothing
better to do, he took it to the Demon.
“Hast thou found me a task to do?” cried the Demon.
“Yes,” said the Tailor. “It is only a little thing. Here is a hair
from my wife’s head; take it and make it straight.”
When the Demon heard what was the task that the Tailor had set him
to do he laughed aloud; but that was because he did not know. He
took the hair and stroked it between his thumb and finger, and,
when he had done, it curled more than ever. Then he looked serious,
and slapped it between his palms, and that did not better matters,
for it curled as much as ever. Then he frowned, and, began beating
the hair with his palm upon his knees, and that only made it worse.
All that day he labored and strove at his task trying to make that
one little hair straight, and, when the sun set, there was the
hair just as crooked as ever. Then, as the great round sun sank
red behind the trees, the Demon knew that he was beaten. “I am
conquered! I am conquered!” he howled, and flew away, bellowing so
dreadfully that all the world trembled.
* * * * *
So ends the story, with only this to say:
_Where man’s strength fails, woman’s wit prevails._
For, to my mind, the princess--not to speak of her husband the
little Tailor--did more with a single little hair and her mother
wit than King Solomon with all his wisdom.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
_“Whose turn is it next to tell us a story?” said Sindbad the
Sailor._
_“’Twas my turn,” said St. George; “but here be two ladies present,
and neither hath so much as spoken a word of a story for all this
time. If you, madam,” said he to Cinderella, “will tell us a tale,
I will gladly give up my turn to you.”_
_The Soldier who cheated the Devil took the pipe out of his mouth
and puffed away a cloud of smoke. “Aye,” said he, “always remember
the ladies, say I. That is a soldier’s trade.”_
_“Very well, then; if it is your pleasure,” said Cinderella, “I
will tell you a story, and it shall be of a friend of mine and of
how she looked after her husband’s luck. She was,” said Cinderella,
“a princess, and her father was a king.”_
_“And what is your story about?” said Sindbad the Sailor._
_“It is,” said Cinderella, “about--”_
[Illustration]
A Piece _of_ Good Luck.
There were three students who were learning all that they could.
The first was named Joseph, the second was named John, and the
third was named Jacob Stuck. They studied seven long years under a
wise master, and in that time they learned all that their master
had to teach them of the wonderful things he knew. They learned
all about geometry, they learned all about algebra, they learned
all about astronomy, they learned all about the hidden arts, they
learned all about everything, except how to mend their own hose and
where to get cabbage to boil in the pot.
And now they were to go out into the world to practise what they
knew. The master called the three students to him--the one named
Joseph, the second named John, and the third named Jacob Stuck--and
said he to them, said he: “You have studied faithfully and have
learned all that I have been able to teach you, and now you shall
not go out into the world with nothing at all. See; here are three
glass balls, and that is one for each of you. Their like is not to
be found in the four corners of the world. Carry the balls wherever
you go, and when one of them drops to the ground, dig, and there
you will certainly find a treasure.”
So the three students went out into the wide world.
Well, they travelled on and on for day after day, each carrying his
glass ball with him wherever he went. They travelled on and on for
I cannot tell how long, until one day the ball that Joseph carried
slipped out of his fingers and fell to the ground. “I’ve found a
treasure!” cried Joseph, “I’ve found a treasure!”
The three students fell to work scratching and digging where the
ball had fallen, and by-and-by they found something. It was a
chest with an iron ring in the lid. It took all three of them to
haul it up out of the ground, and when they did so they found it
was full to the brim of silver money.
[Illustration]
Were they happy? Well, they were happy! They danced around and
around the chest, for they had never seen so much money in all
their lives before. “Brothers,” said Joseph, in exultation, “here
is enough for all hands, and it shall be share and share alike with
us, for haven’t we studied seven long years together?” And so for a
while they were as happy as happy could be.
But by-and-by a flock of second thoughts began to buzz in the heads
of John and Jacob Stuck. “Why,” said they, “as for that, to be
sure, a chest of silver money is a great thing for three students
to find who had nothing better than book-learning to help them
along; but who knows but that there is something better even than
silver money out in the wide world?” So, after all, and in spite of
the chest of silver money they had found, the two of them were for
going on to try their fortunes a little farther. And as for Joseph,
why, after all, when he came to think of it, he was not sorry to
have his chest of silver money all to himself.
So the two travelled on and on for a while, here and there and
everywhere, until at last it was John’s ball that slipped out of
his fingers and fell to the ground. They digged where it fell, and
this time it was a chest of gold money they found.
Yes; a chest of gold money! A chest of real gold money! They just
stood and stared and stared, for if they had not seen it they
would not have believed that such a thing could have been in the
world. “Well, Jacob Stuck,” said John, “it was well to travel a bit
farther than poor Joseph did, was it not? What is a chest of silver
money to such a treasure as this? Come, brother, here is enough to
make us both rich for all the rest of our lives. We need look for
nothing better than this.”
But no; by-and-by Jacob Stuck began to cool down again, and now
that second thoughts were coming to him he would not even be
satisfied with a half-share of a chest of gold money. No; maybe
there might be something better than even a chest full of gold
money to be found in the world. As for John, why, after all, he was
just as well satisfied to keep his treasure for himself. So the two
shook hands, and then Jacob Stuck jogged away alone, leaving John
stuffing his pockets and his hat full of gold money, and I should
have liked to have been there, to have had my share.
Well, Jacob Stuck jogged on and on by himself, until after a while
he came to a great, wide desert, where there was not a blade or a
stick to be seen far or near. He jogged on and on, and he wished he
had not come there. He jogged on and on when all of a sudden the
glass ball he carried slipped out of his fingers and fell to the
ground.
“Aha!” said he to himself, “now maybe I shall find some great
treasure compared to which even silver and gold are as nothing at
all.”
He digged down into the barren earth of the desert; and he digged
and he digged, but neither silver nor gold did he find. He digged
and digged; and by-and-by, at last, he did find something. And
what was it? Why, nothing but something that looked like a piece
of blue glass not a bit bigger than my thumb. “Is that all?” said
Jacob Stuck. “And have I travelled all this weary way and into the
blinding desert only for this? Have I passed by silver and gold
enough to make me rich for all my life, only to find a little piece
of blue glass?”
Jacob Stuck did not know what he had found. I shall tell you what
it was. It was a solid piece of good luck without flaw or blemish,
and it was almost the only piece I ever heard tell of. Yes; that
was what it was--a solid piece of good luck; and as for Jacob
Stuck, why, he was not the first in the world by many and one over
who has failed to know a piece of good luck when they have found
it. Yes; it looked just like a piece of blue glass no bigger than
my thumb, and nothing else.
[Illustration]
“Is that all?” said Jacob Stuck. “And have I travelled all this
weary way and into the blinding desert only for this? Have I passed
by silver and gold enough to make me rich for all my life, only to
find a little piece of blue glass?”
He looked at the bit of glass, and he turned it over and over in
his hand. It was covered with dirt. Jacob Stuck blew his breath
upon it, and rubbed it with his thumb.
Crack! dong! bang! smash!
Upon my word, had a bolt of lightning burst at Jacob Stuck’s feet
he could not have been more struck of a heap. For no sooner had he
rubbed the glass with his thumb than with a noise like a clap of
thunder there instantly stood before him a great, big man, dressed
in clothes as red as a flame, and with eyes that shone sparks of
fire. It was the Genie of Good Luck. It nearly knocked Jacob Stuck
off his feet to see him there so suddenly.
“What will you have?” said the Genie. “I am the slave of good
luck. Whosoever holds that piece of crystal in his hand him must I
obey in whatsoever he may command.”
“Do you mean that you are my servant and that I am your master?”
said Jacob Stuck.
“Yes; command and I obey.”
“Why, then,” said Jacob Stuck, “I would like you to help me out of
this desert place, if you can do so, for it is a poor spot for any
Christian soul to be.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie, and, before Jacob Stuck knew
what had happened to him, the Genie had seized him and was flying
with him through the air swifter than the wind. On and on he flew,
and the earth seemed to slide away beneath. On and on flew the
flame-colored Genie until at last he set Jacob down in a great
meadow where there was a river. Beyond the river were the white
walls and grand houses of the king’s town.
“Hast thou any further commands?” said the Genie.
“Tell me what you can do for me?” said Jacob Stuck.
“I can do whatsoever thou mayest order me to do,” said the Genie.
“Well, then,” said Jacob Stuck, “I think first of all I would like
to have plenty of money to spend.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie, and, as he spoke, he reached
up into the air and picked out a purse from nothing at all. “Here,”
said he, “is the purse of fortune; take from it all that thou
needest and yet it will always be full. As long as thou hast it
thou shalt never be lacking riches.”
“I am very much obliged to you,” said Jacob Stuck. “I’ve learned
geometry and algebra and astronomy and the hidden arts, but I never
heard tell of anything like this before.”
* * * * *
So Jacob Stuck went into the town with all the money he could
spend, and such a one is welcome anywhere. He lacked nothing that
money could buy. He bought himself a fine house; he made all the
friends he wanted, and more; he lived without a care, and with
nothing to do but to enjoy himself. That was what a bit of good
luck did for him.
Now the princess, the daughter of the king of that town, was the
most beautiful in all the world, but so proud and haughty that her
like was not to be found within the bounds of all the seven rivers.
So proud was she and so haughty that she would neither look upon
a young man nor allow any young man to look upon her. She was so
particular that whenever she went out to take a ride a herald
was sent through the town with a trumpet ordering that every house
should be closed and that everybody should stay within doors, so
that the princess should run no risk of seeing a young man, or that
no young man by chance should see her.
[Illustration]
One day the herald went through the town blowing his trumpet and
calling in a great, loud voice: “Close your doors! Close your
windows! Her highness, the princess, comes to ride; let no man look
upon her on pain of death!”
Thereupon everybody began closing their doors and windows, and, as
it was with the others, so it was with Jacob Stuck’s house; it had,
like all the rest, to be shut up as tight as a jug.
But Jacob Stuck was not satisfied with that; not he. He was for
seeing the princess, and he was bound he would do so. So he bored
a hole through the door, and when the princess came riding by he
peeped out at her.
Jacob Stuck thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in all
his life. It was like the sunlight shining in his eyes, and he
almost sneezed. Her cheeks were like milk and rose-leaves, and her
hair like fine threads of gold. She sat in a golden coach with
a golden crown upon her head, and Jacob Stuck stood looking and
looking until his heart melted within him like wax in the oven.
Then the princess was gone, and Jacob Stuck stood there sighing and
sighing.
“Oh, dear! dear!” said he, “what shall I do? For, proud as she is,
I must see her again or else I will die of it.”
All that day he sat sighing and thinking about the beautiful
princess, until the evening had come. Then he suddenly thought of
his piece of good luck. He pulled his piece of blue glass out of
his pocket and breathed upon it and rubbed it with his thumb, and
instantly the Genie was there.
This time Jacob Stuck was not frightened at all.
“What are thy commands, O master?” said the Genie.
“O Genie!” said Jacob Stuck, “I have seen the princess to-day, and
it seems to me that there is nobody like her in all the world. Tell
me, could you bring her here so that I might see her again?”
“Yes,” said the Genie, “I could.”
“Then do so,” said Jacob Stuck, “and I will have you prepare a
grand feast, and have musicians to play beautiful music, for I
would have the princess sup with me.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie. As he spoke he smote his
hands together, and instantly there appeared twenty musicians,
dressed in cloth of gold and silver. With them they brought
hautboys and fiddles, big and little, and flageolets and drums and
horns, and this and that to make music with. Again the Genie smote
his hands together, and instantly there appeared fifty servants
dressed in silks and satins and spangled with jewels, who began
to spread a table with fine linen embroidered with gold, and to
set plates of gold and silver upon it. The Genie smote his hands
together a third time, and in answer there came six servants. They
led Jacob Stuck into another room, where there was a bath of musk
and rose-water. They bathed him in the bath and dressed him in
clothes like an emperor, and when he came out again his face shone,
and he was as handsome as a picture.
[Illustration]
Then by-and-by he knew that the princess was coming, for suddenly
there was the sound of girls’ voices singing and the twanging of
stringed instruments. The door flew open, and in came a crowd of
beautiful girls, singing and playing music, and after them the
princess herself, more beautiful than ever. But the proud princess
was frightened! Yes, she was. And well she might be, for the Genie
had flown with her through the air from the palace, and that is
enough to frighten anybody. Jacob Stuck came to her all glittering
and shining with jewels and gold, and took her by the hand. He led
her up the hall, and as he did so the musicians struck up and began
playing the most beautiful music in the world. Then Jacob Stuck and
the princess sat down to supper and began eating and drinking, and
Jacob Stuck talked of all the sweetest things he could think of.
Thousands of wax candles made the palace bright as day, and as the
princess looked about her she thought she had never seen anything
so fine in all the world. After they had eaten their supper and
ended with a dessert of all kinds of fruits and of sweetmeats, the
door opened and there came a beautiful young serving-lad, carrying
a silver tray, upon which was something wrapped in a napkin. He
kneeled before Jacob Stuck and held the tray, and from the napkin
Jacob Stuck took a necklace of diamonds, each stone as big as a
pigeon’s egg.
“This is to remind you of me,” said Jacob Stuck, “when you have
gone home again.” And as he spoke he hung it around the princess’s
neck.
Just then the clock struck twelve.
Hardly had the last stroke sounded when every light was snuffed
out, and all was instantly dark and still. Then, before she had
time to think, the Genie of Good Luck snatched the princess up once
more and flew back to the palace more swiftly than the wind. And,
before the princess knew what had happened to her, there she was.
It was all so strange that the princess might have thought it was a
dream, only for the necklace of diamonds, the like of which was not
to be found in all the world.
The next morning there was a great buzzing in the palace, you may
be sure. The princess told all about how she had been carried away
during the night, and had supped in such a splendid palace, and
with such a handsome man dressed like an emperor. She showed her
necklace of diamonds, and the king and his prime-minister could not
look at it or wonder at it enough. The prime-minister and the king
talked and talked the matter over together, and every now and then
the proud princess put in a word of her own.
“Anybody,” said the prime-minister, “can see with half an eye that
it is all magic, or else it is a wonderful piece of good luck. Now,
I’ll tell you what shall be done,” said he: “the princess shall
keep a piece of chalk by her; and, if she is carried away again in
such a fashion, she shall mark a cross with the piece of chalk on
the door of the house to which she is taken. Then we shall find the
rogue that is playing such a trick, and that quickly enough.”
“Yes,” said the king; “that is very good advice.”
“I will do it,” said the princess.
All that day Jacob Stuck sat thinking and thinking about the
beautiful princess. He could not eat a bite, and he could hardly
wait for the night to come. As soon as it had fallen, he breathed
upon his piece of glass and rubbed his thumb upon it, and there
stood the Genie of Good Luck.
“I’d like the princess here again,” said he, “as she was last
night, with feasting and drinking, such as we had before.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie.
And as it had been the night before, so it was now. The Genie
brought the princess, and she and Jacob Stuck feasted together
until nearly midnight. Then, again, the door opened, and the
beautiful servant-lad came with the tray and something upon it
covered with a napkin. Jacob Stuck unfolded the napkin, and this
time it was a cup made of a single ruby, and filled to the brim
with gold money. And the wonder of the cup was this: that no matter
how much money you took out of it, it was always full. “Take this,”
said Jacob Stuck, “to remind you of me.” Then the clock struck
twelve, and instantly all was darkness, and the Genie carried the
princess home again.
But the princess had brought her piece of chalk with her, as the
prime-minister had advised; and in some way or other she contrived,
either in coming or going, to mark a cross upon the door of Jacob
Stuck’s house.
But, clever as she was, the Genie of Good Luck was more clever
still. He saw what the princess did; and, as soon as he had
carried her home, he went all through the town and marked a cross
upon every door, great and small, little and big, just as the
princess had done upon the door of Jacob Stuck’s house, only upon
the prime-minister’s door he put two crosses. The next morning
everybody was wondering what all the crosses on the house-doors
meant, and the king and the prime-minister were no wiser than they
had been before.
But the princess had brought her ruby cup with her, and she and the
king could not look at it and wonder at it enough.
“Pooh!” said the prime-minister; “I tell you it is nothing else in
the world but just a piece of good luck--that is all it is. As for
the rogue who is playing all these tricks, let the princess keep a
pair of scissors by her, and, if she is carried away again, let her
contrive to cut off a lock of his hair from over the young man’s
right ear. Then to-morrow we will find out who has been trimmed.”
Yes, the princess would do that; so, before evening was come, she
tied a pair of scissors to her belt.
Well, Jacob Stuck could hardly wait for the night to come to summon
the Genie of Good Luck. “I want to sup with the princess again,”
said he.
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie of Good Luck; and, as soon as
he had made everything ready, away he flew to fetch the princess
again.
Well, they feasted and drank, and the music played, and the candles
were as bright as day, and beautiful girls sang and danced, and
Jacob Stuck was as happy as a king. But the princess kept her
scissors by her, and, when Jacob Stuck was not looking, she
contrived to snip off a lock of his hair from over his right ear,
and nobody saw what was done but the Genie of Good Luck.
So it came towards midnight.
Once more the door opened, and the beautiful serving-lad came
into the room, carrying the tray of silver with something upon it
wrapped in a napkin. This time Jacob Stuck gave the princess an
emerald ring for a keepsake, and the wonder of it was that every
morning two other rings just like it would drop from it.
Then twelve o’clock sounded, the lights went out, and the Genie
took the princess home again.
But the Genie had seen what the princess had done. As soon as he
had taken her safe home, he struck his palms together and summoned
all his companions. “Go,” said he, “throughout the town and trim
a lock of hair from over the right ear of every man in the whole
place;” and so they did, from the king himself to the beggar-man
at the gates. As for the prime-minister, the Genie himself trimmed
two locks of hair from him, one from over each of his ears, so that
the next morning he looked as shorn as an old sheep. In the morning
all the town was in a hubbub, and everybody was wondering how all
the men came to have their hair clipped as it was. But the princess
had brought the lock of Jacob Stuck’s hair away with her wrapped up
in a piece of paper, and there it was.
[Illustration]
As for the ring Jacob Stuck had given to her, why, the next morning
there were three of them, and the king thought he had never heard
tell of such a wonderful thing.
“I tell you,” said the prime-minister, “there is nothing in it but
a piece of good luck, and not a grain of virtue. It’s just a piece
of good luck--that’s all it is.”
“No matter,” said the king; “I never saw the like of it in all my
life before. And now, what are we going to do?”
The prime-minister could think of nothing.
Then the princess spoke up. “Your majesty,” she said, “I can find
the young man for you. Just let the herald go through the town and
proclaim that I will marry the young man to whom this lock of hair
belongs, and then we will find him quickly enough.”
“What!” cried the prime-minister; “will, then, the princess marry a
man who has nothing better than a little bit of good luck to help
him along in the world?”
“Yes,” said the princess, “I shall if I can find him.”
So the herald was sent out around the town proclaiming that the
princess would marry the man to whose head belonged the lock of
hair that she had.
A lock of hair! Why, every man had lost a lock of hair! Maybe the
princess could fit it on again, and then the fortune of him to whom
it belonged would be made. All the men in the town crowded up to
the king’s palace. But all for no use, for never a one of them was
fitted with his own hair.
As for Jacob Stuck, he too had heard what the herald had
proclaimed. Yes; he too had heard it, and his heart jumped and
hopped within him like a young lamb in the spring-time. He knew
whose hair it was the princess had. Away he went by himself, and
rubbed up his piece of blue glass, and there stood the Genie.
“What are thy commands?” said he.
“I am,” said Jacob Stuck, “going up to the king’s palace to marry
the princess, and I would have a proper escort.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie.
He smote his hands together, and instantly there appeared a score
of attendants who took Jacob Stuck, and led him into another room,
and began clothing him in a suit so magnificent that it dazzled the
eyes to look at it. He smote his hands together again, and out in
the court-yard there appeared a troop of horsemen to escort Jacob
Stuck to the palace, and they were all clad in gold-and-silver
armor. He smote his hands together again, and there appeared
twenty-and-one horses--twenty as black as night and one as white as
milk, and it twinkled and sparkled all over with gold and jewels,
and at the head of each horse of the one-and-twenty horses stood a
slave clad in crimson velvet to hold the bridle. Again he smote his
hands together, and there appeared in the ante-room twenty handsome
young men, each with a marble bowl filled with gold money, and when
Jacob Stuck came out dressed in his fine clothes there they all
were.
Jacob Stuck mounted upon the horse as white as milk, the young men
mounted each upon one of the black horses, the troopers in the
gold-and-silver armor wheeled their horses, the trumpets blew, and
away they rode--such a sight as was never seen in that town before,
when they had come out into the streets. The young men with the
basins scattered the gold money to the people, and a great crowd
ran scrambling after, and shouted and cheered.
[Illustration]
So Jacob Stuck rode up to the king’s palace, and the king himself
came out to meet him with the princess hanging on his arm.
As for the princess, she knew him the moment she laid eyes on him.
She came down the steps, and set the lock of hair against his head,
where she had trimmed it off the night before, and it fitted and
matched exactly. “This is the young man,” said she, “and I will
marry him, and none other.”
But the prime-minister whispered and whispered in the king’s ear:
“I tell you this young man is nobody at all,” said he, “but just
some fellow who has had a little bit of good luck.”
“Pooh!” said the king, “stuff and nonsense! Just look at all the
gold and jewels and horses and men. What will you do,” said he to
Jacob Stuck, “if I let you marry the princess?”
“I will,” said Jacob Stuck, “build for her the finest palace that
ever was seen in all this world.”
“Very well,” said the king, “yonder are those sand hills over
there. You shall remove them and build your palace there. When it
is finished you shall marry the princess.” For if he does that,
thought the king to himself, it is something better than mere good
luck.
“It shall,” said Jacob Stuck, “be done by to-morrow morning.”
Well, all that day Jacob Stuck feasted and made merry at the king’s
palace, and the king wondered when he was going to begin to build
his palace. But Jacob Stuck said nothing at all; he just feasted
and drank and made merry. When night had come, however, it was all
different. Away he went by himself, and blew his breath upon his
piece of blue glass, and rubbed it with his thumb. Instantly there
stood the Genie before him. “What wouldst thou have?” said he.
“I would like,” said Jacob Stuck, “to have the sand hills over
yonder carried away, and a palace built there of white marble and
gold and silver, such as the world never saw before. And let there
be gardens planted there with flowering plants and trees, and let
there be fountains and marble walks. And let there be servants and
attendants in the palace of all sorts and kinds--men and women. And
let there be a splendid feast spread for to-morrow morning, for
then I am going to marry the princess.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie, and instantly he was gone.
All night there was from the sand hills a ceaseless sound as of
thunder--a sound of banging and clapping and hammering and sawing
and calling and shouting. All that night the sounds continued
unceasingly, but at daybreak all was still, and when the sun arose
there stood the most splendid palace it ever looked down upon;
shining as white as snow, and blazing with gold and silver. All
around it were gardens and fountains and orchards. A great highway
had been built between it and the king’s palace, and all along the
highway a carpet of cloth of gold had been spread for the princess
to walk upon.
Dear! dear! how all the town stared with wonder when they saw such
a splendid palace standing where the day before had been nothing
but naked sand hills! The folk flocked in crowds to see it, and all
the country about was alive with people coming and going. As for
the king, he could not believe his eyes when he saw it. He stood
with the princess and looked and looked. Then came Jacob Stuck.
“And now,” said he, “am I to marry the princess?”
“Yes,” cried the king in admiration, “you are!”
So Jacob Stuck married the princess, and a splendid wedding it was.
That was what a little bit of good luck did for him.
[Illustration]
After the wedding was over, it was time to go home to the grand
new palace. Then there came a great troop of horsemen with shining
armor and with music, sent by the Genie to escort Jacob Stuck and
the princess and the king and the prime-minister to Jacob Stuck’s
new palace. They rode along over the carpet of gold, and such a
fine sight was never seen in that land before. As they drew near to
the palace a great crowd of servants, clad in silks and satins and
jewels, came out to meet them, singing and dancing and playing on
harps and lutes. The king and the princess thought that they must
be dreaming.
“All this is yours,” said Jacob Stuck to the princess; and he was
that fond of her, he would have given her still more if he could
have thought of anything else.
Jacob Stuck and the princess, and the king and the prime-minister,
all went into the palace, and there was a splendid feast spread in
plates of pure gold and silver, and they all four sat down together.
But the prime-minister was as sour about it all as a crab-apple.
All the time they were feasting he kept whispering and whispering
in the king’s ear. “It is all stuff and nonsense,” said he, “for
such a man as Jacob Stuck to do all this by himself. I tell you, it
is all a piece of good luck, and not a bit of merit in it.”
He whispered and whispered, until at last the king up and spoke.
“Tell me, Jacob Stuck,” he said, “where do you get all these fine
things?”
“It all comes of a piece of good luck,” said Jacob Stuck.
“That is what I told you,” said the prime-minister.
“A piece of good luck!” said the king. “Where did you come across
such a piece of good luck?”
“I found it,” said Jacob Stuck.
“Found it!” said the king; “and have you got it with you now?”
“Yes, I have,” said Jacob Stuck; “I always carry it about with me;”
and he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought out h
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/47564