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.