(A legend of the Origin of the Daisy: German of Rudolf Baumbach:
Translated for Short Stories by Albert Gleaves.)
It is usually thought that when good children die they go to heaven and
become angels. But if anyone imagines that they live there with nothing
to do but fly around, and play hide-and-seek in the clouds, he is very
much mistaken.
The angel children have to go to school every day like the boys and
girls on earth, three hours in the forenoon and two hours in the
afternoon. They write with gold pencils on silver slates, and instead
of the A B C books, they have story books with all sorts of gay-colored
pictures. They do not study geography, for a knowledge of the earth
would be of no use in heaven, neither do they learn the long and
terrible multiplication table, because they live in Eternity.
The school teacher is Doctor Faust. He was a magistrate on earth, but
on account of certain affairs that caused him a good deal of trouble
and were very much talked about, he was required to teach school for
three thousand years before he can have a vacation. On Wednesday and
Saturday afternoon there is no school, and the children are permitted
to play by themselves in the Milky Way; but on Sunday, which is the
grand holiday, they can go outside of heaven and play in the big
meadow. There they enjoy themselves more than all the rest of the week
put together.
The meadow is not green but blue, and thousands and tens of thousands
of silver and golden flowers are all aglow with light and men call them
stars.
In the afternoon of the great holiday, St. Peter takes care of the
children, while Dr. Faust rests and recuperates from his labors during
school-hours. St. Peter, who is always on guard at the gate of heaven,
sees that there is no boisterous playing, and no running away or flying
off too far; if he discovers any straying or wandering, he at once
blows on his golden whistle the call to “come back.”
* * * * *
One Wednesday afternoon it was very warm in heaven and St. Peter fell
asleep, tired out with watching. The children noticed this and took
advantage of it to steal by the old man and spread themselves over
the entire meadow. The most enterprising ventured out to explore the
extent of their play-ground, and discovered that it was abruptly ended
by a high board fence. This they examined carefully for cracks to look
through, but finding none flew to the top of the fence and commenced
shouting across the space beyond.
Now hell was on the other side of the fence, and a multitude of little
devils had just been driven out of the door. They were coal-black, with
horns on their heads and long tails behind. Soon they looked up and
saw the angels above them fluttering around the top of the fence, and
at once they began to beg that they might be allowed to come up into
heaven, promising faithfully to behave, if only the angels could let
them in for “just a little while.”
Moved with pity, the innocent angels decided to get the Jacobs’ ladder
out of the garret and let the little imps come up. Fortunately St.
Peter was still asleep and they managed to drag the ladder out without
disturbing him. After a good many efforts they succeeded in raising
it up against the fence and then lowering it into hell. It scarcely
touched the ground before the long-tailed little varlets were swarming
up the rounds like monkeys.
When they got near the top the angels took them by the hand and helped
them over the fence.
This is how the devils got into heaven.
At first they behaved very well, tiptoeing here and there, and carrying
their tails under their arms like a lady’s trail, as they had often
seen the big devil grandmothers do. But this didn’t last long, and in
a few minutes they began to let themselves out and give full vent to
their feelings. They turned hand-springs and somersaults, and growled
and yelled like veritable imps. They mocked the good and happy people
who were dreamily looking out of the windows of heaven; they stuck out
their tongues and made faces at them.
Finally they began to tear up the flowers and throw them down on the
earth.
In the meantime the little angels had become very much frightened and
bitterly they repented their rashness in letting such unmannerly guests
into heaven. In vain they pleaded with the rascals to be quiet and go
back to hell, but the devils only laughed at them.
At last, in despair, they awakened St. Peter and tearfully told him
what they had done.
He clasped his hands over his head, as he always did when angry, and
thundered, “Come in.”
And the little angels went sneaking through the gates, very
crestfallen, with wings drooping and trailing on the floor. Then St.
Peter called for the sleeping angel policemen, and when all the devils
were caught, they were hand-cuffed and taken back where they belonged.
But this was not the end of the matter. For two consecutive Sundays the
angels were not allowed to leave heaven, and when they were permitted
to play they had to take off their wings and halo; this was the
severest of all punishments for it is considered a great shame for an
angel to be seen without his wings or his nimbus.
* * * * *
It is an ill-wind that blows no good. The flowers that the devils threw
out of heaven, took root in the earth and grew from year to year. To be
sure these star-flowers have lost much of their heavenly brightness,
but they are still lovely to look at with their great hearts of gold
and silver glory.
And because of this heavenly birth they do indeed possess a hidden
power of their own.
When a maiden with doubt in her soul plucks off the white petals of the
flower one by one, singing at the same time a certain song, she knows
by the token of the last little petal the answer to the question of her
heart.