At last the account of the finding of this wonderful prince in the

golden cloak was read at the court, which had long been awaiting the

return of Anjah and his suite, and when his fine person, and the helmet

with the snowy plumes, were described, his subjects and friends, of

course, felt very sure that it was no other than their own prince, and,

as the country was not far distant, a cavalcade was dispatched to make

certain of the truth, and to attend him to his home. The King was not

yet dead, but illness had so impaired his intellect that he had become

perfectly imbecile and unfit to govern, and, in the absence of any

acknowledged head, the affairs of the State were getting into sad

confusion. When the messengers arrived, and were shown into the presence

of Balzebar, although at first surprised to find that he could not speak

one word to them, yet the moment he arose and displayed his glittering

cloak before their eyes they felt ready to fall down at his feet, and

acknowledge him their prince. Besides, the royal helmet and the white

plumes, would, of itself, have been sufficient to convince them, if

there had been no other proof; so, sending a herald before them with the

joyful news that it was indeed the long-absent one, they prepared to

escort him to his kingdom. The Queen could not leave the palace, on

account of the weak state of the King, her husband, but the prime

minister and all the courtiers, with crowds of the common people, went

to the very outskirts of the kingdom to meet the Prince, and, sending

her love and kind messages by him, the Queen sat herself down to await

as patiently as possible the arrival of her son. When the prime minister

was shown into the presence of Balzebar he started back in astonishment,

“Could this be Prince Anjah, this stunted being?” yet here truly was his

helmet and his snowy plumes, and then here, too, was his cloak of gold

with which the rest of the courtiers were so blinded that they never

thought for a moment of doubting that this was their prince indeed, but

were as loud and instant in praise of his fine person and noble mien as

all others had been before them. Disgusted with their shortsightedness,

the prime minister, who was wiser than the rest, and never for a moment

supposed that a noble youth like Anjah could have become this deformed

and withered thing, whose ugliness no cloak of gold could conceal from

him, turned to address the unconscious cause of so much error; instead

of an answer came a low, indistinct muttering and mystical signs. The

truth flashed upon the mind of the prime minister--this was Balzebar,

the poor little idiot mute, and, peering beneath the helmet, which, with

the plumes, concealed his countenance, almost as much as the golden

cloak did his person, recognised the dull, unmeaning eyes and the

expressionless mouth of the poor dwarf. Keeping his discovery in his own

breast, and pretending to share in the delusion of the rest, he prepared

to join in the procession which was to attend Balzebar to the palace,

but, before reaching the gates of the city, under pretence of hastening

home to prepare for the better reception of the Prince, he obtained

leave to arrive at the palace before the rest, in reality to reveal his

discovery to the Queen, and to prepare her mind for the great

disappointment that she must feel, in not being able to welcome her son

to his home. She wept bitter tears when he told his tale, and she

thought of the probable fate of Anjah; but she was a high-souled woman,

and bore herself in her misfortunes like a queen. She agreed with the

minister that it was far better to encourage the infatuation of the

people till such time as the fate of Anjah should be decided, than to

allow a person of more energy and address to get the present possession

of the throne, from whom it would be impossible to wrest it, if he

should still be alive. But their consultation was interrupted by the

noisy shouts from without, which warned her of the approach of the

procession. She instantly recognised Balzebar, whom she received as if

he were indeed her son, and he was installed at once in the Prince’s

apartments in the palace, where all did him homage; and as, day by day,

he used to show himself in his golden cloak on the balconies, his

subjects became more enthusiastic than ever, and would greet him with

shouts that rent the very skies. Preparations were immediately made for

the ceremony of the coronation of the Prince (for the King seemed to be

past all hope of recovering his reason), which, owing to the liberality

of the people, who loved to honor their idol, was to be on a larger

scale than any ever before known, and the whole kingdom seemed united in

a desire to do homage to so great a prince.

About this time one morning a vessel hove in sight, and was spoken, and

from the replies it was gathered that in it was the Prince Anjah, with

his bride the Princess Merea; that the former had been shipwrecked, and

was now returning, with all his train, to his native land. The news

spread like wild-fire; great crowds came down to see the vessel; but it

was at once determined on all hands that the new comer was an impostor,

and that he should not be allowed to land; indeed, so great was the

indignation manifested, they fired upon the ship, which hastily withdrew

from the harbor out of their reach. What must have been the feelings of

Anjah, who, after years of absence and escape from so many dangers, was

thus greeted on coming in sight of his native shore, which he had left

years before, followed by the blessings of the people. One thing was

very certain; it was folly to attempt to land while there was such a

feeling of opposition abroad, so they removed out of harm’s way, and the

vessel was anchored at a distance, but not out of the view of all, for

from the towers of the palace the mother of Anjah was watching the

ship, for she, as well as the prime minister, had heard of the arrival

of the stranger, and all day had been maturing their plans to restore

Anjah to his home and his rights, and were only waiting for the night to

seek the vessel, and bring him, his bride, and his companions on shore.

Accordingly, as soon as it was dark, one or two devoted servants of the

Queen, who were entrusted with the secret, went out in boats till they

reached the ship, and there revealed to the Prince the state of things

at home, and prevailed on him and his followers to return with them.

They were landed as secretly as possible, and gained the palace without

detection. Here they were met by the Queen and the prime minister; the

former embraced her long-lost son and his bride with the most fervent

affection, and they recounted to each other all the trials and dangers

to which both had been subjected. It seems that Anjah had remained in

the kingdom of Merea’s father till a vessel had been fitted up for him,

and, fearing to be again parted from Merea, after the shipwreck, which

had so nearly sundered them for ever, Anjah had determined, ere his

departure, to make her his wife, so that she might accompany him to his

home. When the ship was in readiness the nuptials had been celebrated,

and they had set sail. Anjah recounted to his mother and the minister

the history of the shipwreck, of the loss of Balzebar, the royal helmet

and plumes, and of the golden cloak. The Queen and the minister, in

their turn, related to Anjah the subsequent history of Balzebar, the

infatuation of the people, and that on the morrow he was to be crowned

King with great pomp. They all tried to devise some plan which, if

adopted, might bring all things to their true and proper position. At

last Anjah thought of a way of revealing himself to Balzebar, for upon a

public recognition of him by the poor dwarf himself seemed to hang his

only chance of being acknowledged. The night was spent in revolving this

scheme, which was heartily approved by all.

On the morrow, early in the morning, a great crowd was assembled before

the palace, each striving to be foremost to get a place where they

might witness so august a ceremony. All things were prepared on the most

magnificent scale; music resounded in peals to the skies; trains of

cavalry and infantry, with their glittering arms flashing in the sun,

were filling in the courts; in the midst was a platform under an awning,

on which was placed a throne prepared for Balzebar, and when all was in

readiness he was led forth. As the shouts of admiration went up, the

dwarf lolled idly in his seat, and toyed with the golden sceptre that

was presented to him; his dull eye wandering without expression over the

assembly. Anjah, in disguise, placed himself in front of him, and

presently, when directly in his line of vision, raised the cap that

shaded his brow, and gave him a full view of his countenance, at the

same time fixing on him his eye. Balzebar was transfixed with

astonishment for an instant; then, with a cry of joy, rushing forward,

tore off the royal helmet and the golden cloak, and threw them, with

himself, at the feet of Anjah. A low murmur arose from the crowd as the

well known and despised dwarf, Balzebar, was before them, revealed in

all his natural hideousness. At this moment the prime minister, who

stood near at hand, threw the cloak of gold over the shoulders of Anjah,

and placed the helmet with the white plumes upon his lofty brow, and, as

they knew their true prince, a shout so triumphant arose from the

assembled multitude that it seemed like the breaking of thunder.

No farther notice was taken of Balzebar, but the crown was placed on the

head of Anjah, who now brought forward the Princess Merea, and presented

her as his spouse, and their future Queen. The whole procession returned

to the palace, in which Anjah was received as the reigning prince. The

King, though he recovered sufficiently to recognise his son, remained

still too weak in mind to admit of his assuming the reins of government,

which he quietly resigned to his heir, and passed a quiet and peaceful

old age, cheered by the kind attentions of his Queen and his

daughter-in-law, the Princess Merea, to whom he became tenderly

attached. As for Balzebar, he returned to private life with a much

better grace than many others who have been thrown down from a less

exalted position. He was ever an intimate of the palace, and was

appointed by the King as “Keeper of the Royal Helmet and Golden Cloak,”

a post for which he had before showed himself particularly fitted, and

to which he thenceforth, as before, remained faithful. He lived long

enough to follow the son and daughter of the Prince and Princess as he

had done their father and mother before them. As for Anjah and Merea,

they ever retained the good opinion and admiration of their subjects,

and bequeathed a prosperous and peaceful kingdom to their heirs.

VIII.

THE WONDERFUL BIRD.

Once upon a time an old man felt himself to be dying, and, calling his

family (consisting of three sons, named Obed, Mozam, and Sadoc) to his

bedside, took leave of them one by one, according to the fashion of the

east, and, after recommending to their joint protection an aged uncle,

who had long been unable to take care of himself, and bidding them be

honest and industrious, he addressed them thus:--“My sons, I leave you

in possession of this cottage, its furniture, and a small amount of

treasure in gold, the fruits of many years’ labor, and I wish you to

remain here like brothers, and work together in amity till the death of

your uncle, so that he will not be a burden upon either of you; besides

this, I am able, by means of the power which has latterly been given me,

to foresee future events, and to predict that to one of you will come

good fortune through the means of a wonderful bird, who is to be the

cause of this great wealth. To which of you it is to come I cannot

determine, nor is it of much importance that you should know; it is only

required of you each to do his duty, and leave all the rest to

Providence.” Obed and Mozam were delighted to hear this good news, each

one secretly thinking himself the fortunate one; but poor Sadoc, who was

the youngest, and the most dutiful of the three, was so grieved at the

prospect of parting with his dear father, who had always been so kind

and indulgent to him, that he thought little about this prophecy, as he

sat by the bedside, and closed the eyes that should never again look

upon him with the light of life and love.

After his father was dead he sat by his corpse till, overcome by

weariness (the result of previous long watching), he fell asleep. His

brothers had retired to rest early in the evening, and he had supposed

them slumbering for hours before; but about midnight the eldest, Obed,

who had not undressed himself, hearing the deep, regular breathing of

Sadoc, which assured him that he would not easily awaken, stole softly

into the room, and, finding the keys, took the box of money from under

the bed, and unlocking it, secreted all the gold that he could find in

his pockets, and, taking a small bundle of clothes in his hand, started

off as rapidly as possible, leaving the body of his father still

unburied in the house.

The next morning, when it was discovered that Obed had gone, and that

the strong box had been robbed of all its treasure, the second son,

Mozam, was loud in his exclamations against the wickedness and

ingratitude of his elder brother; but Sadoc felt so disgraced by his

conduct he said hardly a word in his grief, but silently went on with

the preparations for his father’s funeral, and had him interred with all

the appearance of decency and respect possible, in the absence of the

first-born son, he who should have been the principal mourner, and at

night retired to rest less sad, from feeling the happy consciousness of

having done his duty.

And now it was shown that Mozam was in reality no better than his

brother Obed, for no sooner was Sadoc fast asleep in his own bed than

the second brother arose and let into the door several men who had been

waiting outside, and, with their assistance, loaded a cart with all the

effects of the cottage that were movable, and drove off with them to the

pawnbrokers, who advanced on them a sum of money, with which he made

off, as his brother had done before him. When Sadoc arose in the morning

he found every article of furniture missing, with the exception of his

own and his uncle’s bed, and a few old worthless pots and pans; and his

aged relative was seated in the chimney-corner on an old settle, gazing

around with a stare of dismay on the scene of devastation. While Sadoc

remained shocked, speechless, he heard a sort of chuckling noise, and,

looking to see from whence it proceeded, found that an old speckled hen

had stolen a nest in some wool that lay under the seat of his uncle, and

was there sitting upon a large number of eggs. Here, thought poor

Sadoc, is another mouth to feed, and, going into the granary, picked up

a few grains of corn and some seeds which he threw to the hen. He then

sat down sadly to devise a plan by which he could get bread for himself

and his helpless dependent. Had he been alone there would have been no

difficulty; the wide world would have been before him, and, with his

energy and perseverance, he could soon have achieved a fortune without

the intervention of any wonderful bird, and he must now give up any

hopes he might have had of finding it. He felt that his father’s last

injunction, to take care of his poor idiot brother, was, now that his

elders had both proved themselves unworthy of their trusts, doubly

binding upon him, so he went out and hired himself to the first master

that he could find, as a common laborer, and toiled hard all day for a

few scanty pennies, which bought just bread enough to keep himself and

his uncle from actual starvation, and a few crumbs for his old hen.

After going on a week or two in this way, he came home one night and

found the hen had brought out a large brood of chickens. He had now to

work harder to procure them a little food also, on which they seemed to

thrive; and as spring advanced, and the warm weather came, the old man

used to let them out of the coop, and wandered with them about the

meadows, where they picked up worms, grasshoppers, and such seeds as

they could find, and they grew through the summer so well, that by the

time of the Christmas market, they were as plump as partridges, and half

of them sold for quite a little sum of money, which he laid by, and sold

the eggs of the remaining ones for enough to pay for their food during

winter. In the spring, most of them bringing out large broods, he had

quite a lot of chickens for the fall market, and eggs to sell all the

summer, so that he found after several seasons that he had money

enough--the proceeds of his eggs and chickens--to purchase a little spot

of rocky ground close beside his cottage, where he meant his uncle

should amuse himself, in picking up stones, and planting a few turnips

and cabbages. Now we leave him happy and contented, though in poverty

so deep, and see what has become of his brothers, who went off to seek

the wonderful bird.

On the night that Obed had stolen away with the gold, when he had

reached an eminence just beyond, he looked back on the little cottage,

where his father’s body lay, and where his brothers were so peacefully

sleeping, and his conscience smote him for a moment, for the wrong which

he was doing them; but quickly stifling the voice within, he said to

himself, “It is now too late to return and replace the money; I should

probably be discovered, while doing it, and then the disgrace would be

the same; besides I shall, no doubt, be soon able to give them back ten

times the value of that I have taken with me; for when I obtain this

wonderful bird, which is to make the fortune of one of us, and as I am

the oldest, I feel certain that it is my own, I shall come back again,

and enrich them all. I should really do them a greater injustice if I

staid at home till this money should be spent, and deprived myself of

the means of finding it, than by going now, and making a certainty of

securing it.” And thus having succeeded in quieting all scruples, he

went on as fast as he was able, till after several days, having gone a

long distance, he began to proceed on his course more leisurely, without

fear of pursuit. And now his mind began to be more and more upon the

wonderful bird, and he listened to all the tales of travelers of the

birds of Paradise, and of the desert bird, of the owls that hooted

dismally through the woods, and the nightingales that cheered the

darkness with their melody. Great flocks of birds passed over his head,

eastward, and westward, and southward; some of the most beautiful

plumage, but none ever stopped in their flight to point him to the

treasure that he longed for, but they soared away out of his sight. At

last, after a long time, he heard of a bird, which had been known to do

many wonderful things. It was said to have it in its power to foretell

future events; had pointed out to many persons the places where they

found lost money and goods, and was in all respects a most remarkable

fowl. “Now,” thought Obed, when stories of its superior powers were

recounted to him, “I am coming at last to the object of my desires; this

is the bird by whose means I am to realize the great prediction made by

my father, and now I can congratulate myself upon the wisdom of the

course which I have pursued, in putting myself in a way to find this

marvelous creature. I might have staid at home all my lifetime, and have

been no richer, though all this fortune (the secret of which this bird

no doubt possesses,) stands waiting for me.” So losing not a single

moment, he set off to the place where it was being exhibited. He reached

an inn at the town that same night, and made so many inquiries

concerning it, as to awaken the attention of all present. Among the

rest, stopping at the tavern were two men, who seemed disposed to be

very sociable with him. They treated him to drink, and professed to feel

a great and sudden friendship for him; they threw him completely off his

guard, and before he retired to bed he had told them all about the

prophecy of his father, and was silly enough to reveal to them that he

carried a bag of money with him. After he left the room, they sat

whispering together, and laughing about him, and then calling him a

great fool, as he was to be sure, they followed him to bed likewise. Now

these two very men belonged to the company that were exhibiting the

bird, and were stationed at the inn on purpose to gain all the

information that they could about the people in the town, so that they

could by means of the bird, convey to them such a knowledge of their own

private affairs, as to surprise the credulous at once into a belief of

its supernatural powers. They had got all the information they wanted

concerning Obed, and early in the morning left the inn, to get the

conjurer who managed the bird, in readiness to receive him, while he lay

dreaming of being in a world where every thing was turned into gold.

As soon as the hour appointed for the performance of its magical tricks

had come, Obed presented himself before the bird. It was a macaw, with

brilliant plumage; under its feet was a plate, marked like the dial of a

clock; it would walk three times around this, and presently, with one

of its toes, point to a particular mark, which the exhibiter pretended

to interpret and explain. When Obed stood before it, it began to flutter

its wings, and showed great signs of agitation, which was said to be

because it was going to predict some great fortune to him. This at the

offset so prejudiced Obed in its favor, that he was prepared to believe

every word that followed. The bird then walked round the dial three

times and pointed to a mark; the exhibiter commenced explaining it. At

first, he repeated as much of Obed’s plans and history as the two men

had picked up the night before, which gave him, in the course of fifteen

minutes, such confidence in its ability, that had the bird told him to

go to the bottom of the sea in search of the treasure, he would have

been almost stupid enough to have done it; but they told him no such

thing, for they were not at all desirous of putting him out of the way

till they had got possession of his bag of money.

They told him to wait till night came, and then to go alone to a cave,

which they pointed out to him, about half a mile distant from the town,

through the woods, where he would find an old hermit, who would meet

him, and show him where he could find an immense, treasure. They then

dismissed him.

Obed was so impatient to come into possession of his wealth, he scarcely

ate or drank all day, and as soon as it was dark, set off in search of

the cave. After groping about for a long while, and falling down several

times, he came at last upon it, and was rather surprised at not finding

the hermit in waiting for him; but seeing a torch approach, concluded

that it must be he; but was soon much surprised at seeing instead three

men, two of whom he recognized as the same who had been the night before

at the tavern. They came upon him, and suddenly seizing him, gave him a

most unmerciful beating. They then bound him hand and foot, and took

from him his money; and after making themselves merry for a while at his

expense, left him lying upon the ground half dead, telling him that no

doubt the hermit would come and show him the treasure before morning.

There he lay all night, moaning and crying, and then came to his mind

thoughts of his own undutiful conduct, in leaving his brothers

unprovided for, and he felt that he was only justly punished for all his

wickedness. He was not only half frozen with the cold, but was in a

fright lest some beast of prey should come upon him in this helpless

state, all bound as he was, and mangle or devour him; but he was

relieved from the worst of his fears in the morning; for a company of

sailors passing that way going to their vessel, found him in this

pitiable condition; they helped him up on one of their mules, and

bearing him to the inn, from whence he had come, made inquiries,

concerning the two men, and the owners of the bird, but found they had

gone off early the evening preceding; and though great exertions were

made by the people of the town, almost all of whom had been in some way

or other deceived by them, no traces of them could be found.

Now poor Obed knew not what course to pursue; he had no money, to return

to his native home; and even if he had, shame would have prevented his

doing so; he therefore accepted the offer of the sailors, that he

should join them, and go on board the ship; and while he is passing a

life of toil and hardship upon the perilous ocean, let us go back and

trace out the history of his second brother, Mozam.

The yule log · 第 4 / 6 段