the whistle and started to blow it madly. The eagle hastened to the
sound of his whistle, and thinking that it was Claudio, seized the man
with the two faces in his claws and rose up to a great height.
The eagle soon noticed that his voice was unknown, and without more ado
let go of his load and the monster was dashed to pieces on the rocks
below.
He flew again towards the place where he had left Claudio.
"Don't be afraid," said the eagle, "because of the two faces neither
remains. They have just been smashed up against the stones, and he will
never torment anybody any more."
The children returned to their homes, where their coming was celebrated
with great feasts, and Claudio's grandmother, when she heard what had
happened, after welcoming him on his return, only said to him:
"Do you want to see the man with two faces again?"
*THE TREACHERY OF MICIFUF*
Rather more than a fortnight ago an importunate guest disturbed my quiet
and would not leave me in peace during those tranquil hours of the night
which I am accustomed to spend in work.
You will say that I ought to have got rid of him. Nothing more simple,
apparently, than to seize the disturbing guest and to put him on his
feet in the street, saying to him: "Good friend, do me the favour not to
come back to this house while I live in it and while you behave so
badly."
But with my guest there is no reasoning at all. I begged him, with the
most delicate phrases from the book of courtesy, to go away, or not to
make a noise. On seeing his insistence, I reached, by degrees, from the
simple threat of dismissal to the terrible one (it frightens me to
remember!) of dealing him a vile and treacherous death. To such a point
does hastiness on occasions blind us! Even to crime!
And to any one in the same circumstances I suspect the same thing would
occur.
Because what he does is so irritating. At the moment when I compose
myself for writing, at that very moment he makes an unbearable noise
that gets on my nerves and prevents me from writing calmly a single
line, and from even putting together my ideas. When, tired of the
torture, I throw down my pen and go to bed, the mocking noise at once
ceases as if by magic, and the silence of the dead, or of those who
work, reigns again in my room.
But there is still more! As I leave them scattered on the table, my
poor papers appear the following morning as if they were the remains of
a kite, crumpled and even torn, turning my writing to strange
hieroglyphics, incapable of being read, and my books, my poor books,
which are so dear to me, they are cut as if with a saw, covers and all!
Such an enemy well deserved the tremendous punishment which my
legitimate indignation prepared for him. I maintain him, but he,
however, illtreats me! Have you ever seen such black ingratitude?
So I spoke to several friends of mine not long ago, and finding my
pacific and easy-going nature so changed to such a decided and
determined attitude, and to such a fixed project of sanguinary
vengeance, they said to me, quite surprised and bewildered:
"We did not believe you capable of such thoughts! To assassinate! to
avenge! When, even in extreme cases, it might be legitimate and
honourable it leaves a stain in the mouth and in the mind of him who
thinks it. We do not understand you now, my friend; with such principles
one goes to prison or to the scaffold with surprising ease. If it is an
ingrate who is to be dealt with, turn him ignominiously out of your
house and leave him alone."
And I noticed in my audience a movement of repulsion that made me feel
uneasy.
"But now it occurs to me that I have spoken," I added, "without telling
who is the person concerned. It is a mouse which, hidden behind my
bookcase, makes an infernal noise about twelve o'clock at night, the
hour at which I dedicate myself to my work. It is he who destroys
everything within the reach of his nails or teeth, who must have in his
body more letters than a printing press and more paper than a
paper-mill."
Either it was an old and seasoned mouse, experienced in malicious
tricks, or what he has gnawed has taught him to be on his guard against
everything. Be that as it may, it is certain that there is no
instrument, mouse-trap, or poison which could put the wretch to death
and ensure my tranquillity.
You ought to have seen me some nights handling an old cavalry sabre,
pursuing the little mouse, which finished by hiding itself between the
bookcase and the wall, laughing at my cutting and thrusting.
Convinced that there was nothing to be done against such an agile enemy,
I called to my aid a cat who was well known for his courage and hatred
of the mouse tribe, big Micifuf, who, although old and retired from
active life, had no objection to placing himself at my disposal, only on
certain fixed conditions.
"If you want me to help you," he said to me, "you must entertain me like
a prince; must buy me a fine gilt collar; and when I have killed the
mouse who troubles you, must make me a good present for my family."
I agreed to all this, provided I was freed of the diabolical creature
and in the belief that that same night it would fall into the power of
my ally.
After a little time I noticed that the noise disappeared, which was
something of a consolation, and I observed that the good Micifuf was
lying near the bookcase. He looked at me and smiled as if to say,
"There, you see! as soon as they smell me about all is over."
I do not Know whether it was instinct or suspicion: it is certain and
true that I thought a certain understanding existed between the mouse
and Micifuf, and decided to spy upon them to convince myself of this
treachery.
"The mouse does not come out," I said to myself, "and if he does not
come out from behind the bookcase for these three or four days and has
not eaten anything all this time, the unhappy creature must be on the
point of dying of hunger, if it is not already dead. Well, then, if it
is alive there is doubtless some trickery here!"
A few days afterwards I overheard a long conversation between Micifuf
and the mouse.
Said the former to the latter: "Now you see I don't interfere with you
at all. On the contrary, I myself supply you with food, giving it to
you on the sly as we agreed. But if you make a noise I shall be obliged
to lay hands on you, in which case, frankly, neither you nor I would
derive any benefit--you, because you run the risk of my devouring you at
a mouthful; and I because, once you are dead, the master would send me
away, and I shall not be able to find another fool like this, who keeps
me and treats me famously without my doing any work whatever."
"For my part," said the mouse, "I don't think I shall break the compact.
I don't move, even to sneeze; so that you ought to be very pleased. By
the way, you might be good enough to increase my rations of cheese, for
you know I like it immensely, and above all Gruyere."
At this moment I could not restrain my indignation, and calling Micifuf
I said to him:
"You are a cat without honour; what you have done is a really dirty
trick of the worst kind. I should never have brought you here for that
purpose, for I could have made an arrangement with the mouse myself. I
prefer to keep him rather than to feed you both."
"Come, come!" exclaimed Micifuf with the utmost coolness. "I see you
have not understood my plan. Listen! By acting so with the mouse, which
is an unhappy creature in the fullest sense of the word, I shall succeed
in getting him out of his haunts, and he will yield himself trustingly
to my claws and teeth."
So that very night he approached the bookcase and said:
"Little mouse, my friend! Come out, for now nobody is about and we can
chat at our ease."
The mouse showed its little snout from behind the bookcase and came out,
little by little, with justifiable fear.
"Come now, draw near, and don't make me raise my voice, I don't know
whether they can hear us. Listen to what I have to tell you. You must
know, my good friend, that I have always felt a great affection for your
race, by reason of a tradition which has been preserved in my family for
many years. According to this, one of our ancestors, a beautiful Angora
cat--I don't know exactly whether it was my great-grandfather or my
great-great-grandfather--was once very ill and without resources, lying
on the miserable straw of a garret, when a compassionate mouse brought
him some cheese-rinds and, I suppose, some other eatables right up to
his own bed. He was going to take them when another mouse, of
disagreeable appearance, with some red marks on its back, drew near and
took away the food, taking advantage of the fact that my
great-grandfather had rheumatism and could not move.
"Since then we have decided to kill all the descendants of that wicked
fellow who made our relative die of hunger, and also to reward the one
who was so good to him in time of trouble."
"That appears quite right to me," said the mouse.
"Listen, by the by: do you know it seems to me that you have some red
spots on your back?"
The mouse was startled and said that his good friend the cat must have
cobwebs in his eyes.
"Really, I am very shortsighted, and it would not be at all
extraordinary if I were mistaken. I will come near in order to
recognise you better."
He had no sooner approached than, seizing him with his claws, he began
to shout:
"Master! Master! Here is the mouse!"
I hastened at the call, and, if the truth must be told, far from being
pleased, the deed troubled me in the highest degree.
The little mouse lay dead in Micifuf's claws, and the cat was showing
himself off, proud of his achievement.
"I hope," said he, "that you will give me the reward agreed on."
Then I could no longer restrain my indignation, and, seizing a stick, I
began to whack the traitor, saying to him:
"Wretch! At first you would have deceived me, and now, by practising
the wiles of traitors, you have murdered him to whom you offered
protection. Take the reward which all traitors receive."
At each blow with the stick Micifuf snorted, leaping high into the air,
until at length he dashed through a pane of the window and threw himself
out into the street. I did not wish to know whether he was killed or
not. He well deserved to be killed.
And since then, everybody who has recourse to deceit seems hateful to
me, even though they deceive for the purpose of killing the most
troublesome of little mice.
*TROMPETILLA AND TROMPETIN*
"What are you doing here, boy?" asked a venerable friar of Rupert, who
was sitting near his accordion in the neighbourhood of a wood as if he
were preparing himself to give a solemn performance to the oaks.
[Illustration: "What are You doing here, Boy."]
"I was resting after a long walk," answered the boy, "and as they say
that sleep is food, I wished to forget in slumber that not a mouthful
has passed my lips for many hours."
"Poor little boy," exclaimed the father; "if you want a sumptuous meal
go near the third cork-tree on the right-hand side; go round the tree
three times, playing the accordion, and a door will open. Pass through
it and you shall eat splendidly."
Rupert went to the spot indicated and, playing a "Habanera" dance, made
the three turns prescribed; a piece of bark came away and disclosed a
little iron door, artistically ornamented. He pushed it gently; it
opened noiselessly, and there was Rupert inside a beautiful palace,
whose magnificent rooms were illuminated with hidden fires, which, while
giving light, sent out sweet fragrance. "These smells are not bad," said
Rupert, "but I would rather they came from a nicely cooked chop."
At that moment a hundred succulent chops which were saying "Eat me!"
began to balance themselves in space. Being neither stupid nor lazy,
Rupert tried to get hold of the nearest, but they all began a frantic
career round the room. In the centre of the latter appeared a table
covered with appetising eatables, but as soon as Rupert went near they
once more took to flight as if on invisible wings. A magnificent
stuffed turkey hit him on the nose; the breast of a chicken nearly
knocked him over; all this while the boy was running, like a mad thing,
after those exquisite dainties, hungrier than a bear after a fortnight's
fast.
"This is only an invitation to see!" exclaimed the lad. "It is enough
to make one's teeth grow longer!"
He had hardly uttered these words than his teeth began to grow in such a
disordered fashion, and so quickly, that the shortest was not less than
three yards long. The viands were caught on them as if on lances, a
further difficulty for Rupert, who could not succeed in seizing the
coveted prey which was fixed on his own teeth.
On this a monkey appeared, and climbing on to the boy's teeth, began
very impudently to eat those exquisite viands, making signs of
satisfaction which threw Rupert into a rage.
"You great thief!" he cried. "What do you mean by laughing at me?"
And catching up his accordion he threw it at the animal with such
accuracy that, hitting him on the head, it knocked him senseless. A
great noise was heard, the monkey disappeared, Rupert's teeth grew
shorter, and while the accordion played, of its own accord, the
celebrated air "No me matas," a woman appeared in the middle of the room
who, for size, looked like a whale, and who would have been beautiful if
she had not had a turned-up nose and fixed eyes, one weeping oil and the
other vinegar, and who would certainly have had a fine head of hair if
she had not been bald, and a fine set of teeth if a single tooth had
remained in her head.
"Who are you?" asked Rupert, a trifle startled.
"I am the witch Trompetilla, the daughter of the celebrated Trompeton
and grand-daughter of Trompetazo, and am looking for my son Trompetin
everywhere, without being able to find him."
"Why do you speak to me about Trompetilla and Trompetin when I never
played a trumpet in my life?"
"Ah, unhappy me!" sobbed the witch. "In vain I have offered a
pennyworth of toasted chick peas and a measure of tiger nuts to the
mortal who discovers the whereabouts of my son. I have wept so much oil
and vinegar that I have spoilt all the furniture in my house."
"What a fine salad you could make if you bought some lettuces!"
"You will get a salad made of blows if you don't help me to look for my
Trompetin, and if we find him I will invite you to supper, and moreover
will give you a penny so that you need never do any more work in your
life."
Roused by such a magnificent promise, Rupert offered to look for
Trompetin, even if he were under a cruet.
"What is he like?" he asked.
"The size of a pea, a head like that of a pin, and legs like needles."
"Well, then, he must be sticking in a pin cushion or in a needle-case."
"A needle-case would not hold him, for he has a beard two yards long."
"It must trail on the ground!" said Rupert, full of astonishment.
"Well, now," said the witch, "while I go and mend some clothes, begin to
look for my pet."
This said, she disappeared.
The boy was confused by so many comings and goings, appearances and
disappearances; but as hunger afflicted him, he proposed to find
Trompetin, and taking a turn round the room, began to shout:
"Trompetin, where are you?"
"Here!" groaned a tiny voice.
"Where? I can't see you."
"In this crack," replied the voice.
Rupert searched, and at last found the witch's son in a crack between
two bricks. The enormous beard was a hair two yards long, which grew
out of his nose.
Rupert took him up carefully, and placing him on his hand, asked him:
"Are you Trompetin, the son of Trompetilla?"
"The same."
"Why have you been lost so long?"
"Because my mother is deaf and cannot see well, so that, although I
shouted a lot, she did not hear me."
"Well, now, tell me who the monkey is that climbed up on to my teeth?"
"It is a wizard, nastier than medicine, who is angry with us because his
grandfather died from a trumpet-blast that my great-great-grandfather
sounded in his ear. It was he who made your teeth grow, and didn't
allow you to eat. Knock on this wall and he will reappear, then pull
out my hair and thrash him with it."
"A fine thrashing to be given with a hair!"
"Try, and you will see!"
Rupert struck the wall, and at once the monkey appeared, sparks flying
from his eyes. He was about to throw himself on Rupert, but the boy
pulled out Trompetin's hair, which turned itself into a fine cudgel,
with which he dealt the monkey a vigorous hiding. The animal leapt high
into the air several times, but that was useless, as the stick
lengthened as if it were elastic and reached him wherever he was. When
the monkey could resist no longer, he took human shape, and going on his
knees begged Rupert not to grind his ribs, and in return he offered to
give him as much wealth as he might desire.
"Call Trompetilla," exclaimed the lad, "and let us have a talk."
The witch appeared, this time crying with joy at seeing her son, and
after kissing him, stuck him in her dress so that he should not be lost
again. The wizard gave Rupert a lot of money and the witch gave him a
splendid supper of stew and hemp-seed.
When supper was over they affectionately took leave of one another, and
the wizard took Rupert out into the fresh air, carrying him carefully to
the same spot in which he was when he met the priest. There he left the
boy sleeping soundly, dreaming of a sweet awakening--the dream of the
person who sees his future assured by reason of not having done anything
wrong.
*THE QUACK DOCTOR*
I do not know whether it was true or not, but as it was told to me so I
tell it to you.
There used to pass through the goodly streets, whether of Constantinople
or Babylon I am not sure which--however, it makes no difference to my
story--a quack doctor who, while beating a drum and clashing a pair of
cymbals, announced his medicines and practised his cures.
You must place the action of this story in a place where there are no
medical men, for if there were, certainly they would put the quack in
prison where he would not see daylight for a long time. And the fact is
that, with all his quackery, the man had acquired great fame in the
difficult art to which he devoted himself. His adaptability was
extraordinary. It was just the same to him to extract a big man's tooth
as to pull out a knife and cut off anybody's leg without stopping for a
moment.
For shamelessness this man could not be beaten. It is related that in
the times when our quack wandered through the streets and towns, the
emperor's son fell ill of a great and persistent melancholy. The youth
was sad and weak, and even when he felt no pain his depression was
alarming. The court doctors, who were important people, held a
consultation, and, as always happens in these cases, each one put
forward a different opinion from that of his companions.
"It appears to me," said one, putting on his spectacles, "saving the
estimable opinion of my fellow-professors, that his highness the
hereditary prince is suffering from his liver. Broth of green beans
would be a good thing."
"Gently, wise companion," exclaimed another. "I maintain that his
highness suffers from his spleen; and as what is good for the liver is
bad for the other organ, I do not believe that green beans would be any
good; roasted chick peas are wanted."
"Well, gentlemen, may I be hanged if the prince's illness is not in his
feet. Ask him if he has chilblains, and, in that case, we all know what
to do: wool, plenty of wool, and watercress, plenty of watercress."
The discussion took a threatening turn; each doctor, in support of what
he affirmed, cited three or four authorities and even brought books to
prove and demonstrate it. The dispute waxed so hot that it ended by the
doctors throwing the books at each other's heads. A book broke the
spectacles of one of the doctors, and a little more would have knocked
out one of his eyes; another fell like a mace on the bald head of the
oldest and crashed into his brain, his skull not being of the hardest.
At this moment the emperor entered the room where the three Hippocrates
were killing each other, and when informed of the cause of the dispute
became cold all over.
"It is a bad sign when you do not agree. My son is in danger of dying."
And the poor father went away, saddened and disheartened, to his
apartments.
History says that not a bit of the doctors remained. On seeing the
emperor so grief-stricken there was no lack of courtiers who had the
courage to speak to him of the advisibility of calling in the quack.
"Impossible," said the monarch. "If those three shining lights of
medicine could not save him, how can I possibly expect that the quack
can cure him?"
However, the courtiers were so persistent that the emperor consented to
call in the quack, but on one condition: before taking up the cure of
the prince, he must heal five sick people who had been given up by the
doctors.
They looked for the five invalids and had them brought into the palace.
The quack, obeying the emperor's orders, arrived shortly after. The
latter said to him:
"Do you dare to undertake the prince's cure?"
"Yes, sire."
"Well, in order to convince me of what you know, you will heal five men
who are seriously ill and whom I will show you. If you do not cure them
I will have your head cut off, but if you make them well I will
thenceforward put his highness' health in your charge."
"Can you not make it four instead of five, sire?"
"No, five; and if not, you know what to expect."
"Well, then, I will cure them. Where are they? I must speak to them
alone."
With the emperor's permission he went to the room where the hopeless
cases were. Even the most healthy of them had only two or three days to
live.
[Illustration: The Quack Doctor.]
On seeing them our quack almost fell in a faint.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I am going to cure you in the only possible way.
The great magician Faramalla has taught me a wonderful system of curing.
There is no invalid who cannot be healed by it. Hear it:
"It is necessary for me to kill one of you and burn his heart. Its
ashes serve to make such a pomade that on applying it to any diseased
part it heals as if by magic, without any need of medicine. You," he
added, facing one of the hopeless ones, "are very ill, what does it
matter to you if you die now or within two days? I shall kill you and
burn your heart to cinders in order to cure the rest."
"I say, good friend," cried the threatened man, "do you say I am very
ill? Why, there is nothing the matter with me. My family persists in
saying that I am consumptive, but, thank God, I am as sound as a bell."
"All right, all right," said the quack, "it makes very little difference
to me; but you leave on this condition, that you tell the emperor that
you are cured."
The consumptive, hardly noticing the half-opened door, dashed madly
homewards.
"How are you?" the emperor asked him.
"I am sound and well," exclaimed the consumptive, without ceasing to
run.
"This is marvellous," thought the emperor.
"He is a very learned man," said the courtiers.
The other invalids did the same as the first. Provided that they were
not killed at once, they swore by all they held sacred that they had
never felt stronger and better in their lives. And they darted out of
the palace like arrows from a bow, leaving the emperor and the doctors
amazed.
The monarch then thought of trusting him with the cure of his son, when
a loud burst of laughter interrupted the grave and ceremonious etiquette
of the court. Who was the daring man who thus failed in due respect?
The emperor in person, full of ire, went out into the ante-room and
there met the disturber. It was the imperial prince himself, who was
rolling on a sofa unable to restrain his outbursts of laughter. The
emperor was delighted to see the sadness, which had so alarmed him,
dissipated so unexpectedly. To what was this extraordinary event due?
The prince told him. "On seeing those unhappy invalids run out so
quickly, I asked the quack the cause of their flight, and the latter
told me with a wealth of detail."
It had amused him so much that the black melancholy which was
undermining his existence was dissipated.
"You will remain with my son," said the emperor to the quack, "not as a
doctor but as a friend. You are a witty man and wit deserves to be
rewarded."
*THE DRAWING SCHOOL*