rich people, who have sold themselves to me, have hearts as cold as
yours, and their real hearts I have here in my chamber.'
'Ah! how glibly you can tell lies,' said Peter, laughing; 'you must
tell that to another to be believed; think you I have not seen such
tricks by dozens in my journeys? Your hearts in the chamber are made of
wax; you're a rich fellow I grant, but you are no magician.'
Now the giant was enraged and burst open the chamber door, saying,
'Come in and read all the labels, and look yonder is Peter Munk's
heart; do you see how it writhes? Can that too be of wax?'
'For all that, it is of wax,' replied Peter. 'A genuine heart does
not writhe like that. I have mine still in my breast. No! you are no
magician.'
'But I will prove it to you,' cried the former angrily. 'You shall feel
that it is your heart.' He took it, opened Peter's waistcoat, took
the stone from his breast, and held it up. Then taking the heart,
he breathed on it, and set it carefully in its proper place, and
immediately Peter felt how it beat, and could rejoice again. 'How do
you feel now?' asked Michel, smiling.
'True enough, you were right,' replied Peter, taking carefully the
little cross from his pocket. 'I should never have believed such things
could be done.'
'You see I know something of witchcraft, do I not? But, come, I will
now replace the stone again.'
'Gently, Herr Michel,' cried Peter, stepping backwards, and holding up
the cross, 'mice are caught with bacon, and this time you have been
deceived,' and immediately he began to repeat the prayers that came
into his mind.
Now Michel became less and less, fell to the ground, and writhed like a
worm, groaning and moaning, and all the hearts round began to beat, and
became convulsed, so that it sounded like a clock-maker's workshop.
Peter was terrified, his mind was quite disturbed; he ran from the
house, and, urged by the anguish of the moment, climbed up a steep
rock, for he heard Michel get up, stamping and raving, and denouncing
curses on him. When he reached the top, he ran towards the Tannenbühl;
a dreadful thunderstorm came on; lightning flashed around him,
splitting the trees, but he reached the precincts of the Little Glass
Man in safety.
His heart beat joyfully--only because it _did_ beat; but now he looked
back with horror on his past life, as he did on the thunderstorm
that was destroying the beautiful forest on his right and left. He
thought of his wife, a beautiful, good woman, whom he had murdered
from avarice; he appeared to himself an outcast from mankind, and wept
bitterly as he reached the hill of the Little Glass Man.
The Schatzhauser was sitting under a pine-tree, and was smoking a small
pipe; but he looked more serene than before.
'Why do you weep, Peter?' asked he; 'have you not recovered your heart?
Is the cold one still in your breast?'
'Alas! sir,' sighed Peter, 'when I still carried about with me the cold
stony heart, I never wept, my eyes were as dry as the ground in July;
but now my old heart will almost break with what I have done. I have
driven my debtors to misery, set the dogs on the sick and poor, and you
yourself know how my whip fell upon _her_ beautiful forehead.'
'Peter, you were a great sinner,' said the little man. 'Money and
idleness corrupted you, until your heart turned to stone, and no
longer knew joy, sorrow, repentance, or compassion. But repentance
reconciles; and if I only knew that you were truly sorry for your past
life, it might yet be in my power to do something for you.'
'I wish nothing more,' replied Peter, dropping his head sorrowfully.
'It is all over with me, I can no more rejoice in my lifetime; what
shall I do thus alone in the world? My mother will never pardon me for
what I have done to her, and I have perhaps brought her to the grave,
monster that I am! Elizabeth, my wife, too,--rather strike me dead,
Herr Schatzhauser, then my wretched life will end at once.'
'Well,' replied the little man, 'if you wish nothing else, you can have
it, so my axe is at hand.' He quietly took his pipe from his mouth,
knocked the ashes out, and put it into his pocket. Then rising slowly,
he went behind the pines. But Peter sat down weeping in the grass; his
life had no longer any value for him, and he patiently awaited the
deadly blow. After a short time he heard gentle steps behind him, and
thought, 'Now he is coming.'
'Look up once more, Peter Munk,' cried the little man. He wiped the
tears from his eyes and looked up, and beheld his mother, and Elizabeth
his wife, who kindly gazed on him. Then he jumped up joyfully, saying,
'You are not dead, then, Elizabeth, nor you, mother; and have you
forgiven me?'
'They will forgive you,' said the Little Glass Man, 'because you feel
true repentance, and all shall be forgotten. Go home now, to your
father's hut, and be a charcoal-burner as before; if you are active
and honest, you will do credit to your trade, and your neighbours will
love and esteem you more than if you possessed ten tons of gold.' Thus
saying, the Little Glass Man left them. The three praised and blessed
him, and went home.
The splendid house of wealthy Peter stood no longer; it was struck by
lightning, and burnt to the ground, with all its treasures. But they
were not far from his father's hut, and thither they went, without
caring much for their great loss. But what was their surprise when they
reached the hut; it was changed into a handsome farmhouse, and all in
it was simple, but good and cleanly.
'This is the Little Glass Man's doing,' cried Peter.
'How beautiful!' said Frau Elizabeth; 'and here I feel more at home
than in the larger house, with many servants.'
Henceforth Peter Munk became an industrious and honest man. He was
content with what he had, carried on his trade cheerfully, and thus it
was that he became wealthy by his own energy, and respected and beloved
in the whole forest. He no longer quarrelled with his wife, he honoured
his mother, and relieved the poor who came to his door. When, after
twelve months, Frau Elizabeth presented him with a beautiful little
boy, Peter went to the Tannenbühl, and repeated the verse as before.
But the Little Glass Man did not show himself.
'Mr. Schatzhauser,' he cried loudly, 'only listen to me. I wish nothing
but to ask you to stand godfather to my little son.' But he received
no answer, and only a short gust of wind rushed through the pines, and
cast a few cones on the grass.
'Then I will take these as a remembrance, as you will not show
yourself,' cried Peter, and he put them in his pocket, and returned
home. But when he took off his jacket, and his mother turned out the
pockets before putting it away, four large rolls of money fell out; and
when they opened them, they found them all good and new Baden dollars,
and not one counterfeit, and these were the intended godfather's gift
for little Peter, from the little man in the Tannenbühl. Thus they
lived on, quietly and cheerfully; and many a time Peter Munk, when
gray-headed, would say, 'It is indeed better to be content with little,
than to have wealth and a cold heart.'
C. A. F.
[Illustration]
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK
This story is from the collection called _The Caravan_, and is told
by the traveller Selim.
The Caliph Chasid of Bagdad was sitting one fine summer afternoon
comfortably on his divan; he had slept a little, for it was a sultry
day, and he looked quite refreshed after his nap. He smoked a long
rosewood pipe, sipped now and then a little coffee which a slave poured
out for him, and stroked his beard contentedly whenever he had enjoyed
it. In short, it could be seen at a glance that the Caliph felt very
comfortable. At such a time it was easy to approach him, as he was
very good-tempered and affable, wherefore his Grand Vizier Mansor
visited him every day about this time. This afternoon he came as usual,
looking, however, very grave, a rare thing for him. The Caliph took the
pipe out of his mouth and said: 'Why dost thou make so grave a face,
Grand Vizier?' The Grand Vizier folded his arms across his breast,
bowed to his master and answered: 'Master! whether I assume a grave
appearance I know not, but down below in the palace stands a pedlar who
has such fine wares that it vexes me that I have no money to spare.'
The Caliph, who had long desired to rejoice the heart of his Grand
Vizier, ordered his black slave to fetch the pedlar. In a few moments
the slave returned with him. He was a stout little man, swarthy in
the face, and dressed in rags. He carried a box in which he had all
sorts of wares, pearls, and rings, pistols with richly inlaid stocks,
goblets, and combs. The Caliph and his Vizier inspected everything, and
the Caliph at last bought for himself and Vizier a pair of pistols, and
for the Vizier's wife a comb. As the pedlar was about to close his box
again, the Caliph caught sight of a little drawer, and asked whether
it also contained some wares. The pedlar pulled out the drawer, and
exhibited a snuff-box containing a black powder and a piece of paper
with peculiar writing on it, which neither the Caliph nor Mansor could
read. 'These things were given to me one day by a merchant who found
them in the streets of Mecca,' said the pedlar. 'I know not what they
are; but you may have them for a small sum, for they are of no use
to me.' The Caliph, who was very fond of having old manuscripts in
his library, though unable to read them, bought both paper and box
and dismissed the pedlar. Still he thought he would like to know what
the writing meant, and asked the Vizier if he did not know anybody
who might decipher it. 'Most gracious lord and master,' answered the
latter, 'near the Great Mosque lives a man called Selim the learned;
he knows all languages. Send for him; perhaps he can explain these
mysterious signs.'
The learned Selim soon arrived. 'Selim,' said the Caliph to him,
'Selim, it is said thou art very learned. Just look at this writing
whether thou canst read it; if thou canst read it, thou gettest a new
robe of honour from me; if thou canst not, thou gettest twelve boxes on
the ears and twenty-five lashes on the soles of thy feet, for having
been called Selim the learned without cause.' Selim bowed and said:
'Thy will be done, O Master!' For a long time he looked at the writing;
suddenly, however, he exclaimed: 'That is Latin, O Master, or let me be
hung!' 'Say what it means,' demanded the Caliph, 'if it is Latin.'
Selim began to translate: 'Man who findeth this, praise Allah for
his goodness. He who takes a pinch of this powder in this box and
therewith says "Mutabor," can change himself into any animal, and also
understand the language of animals. If he afterwards wish to resume his
human form, let him bow thrice to the East and say the same word. But
beware when thou art changed that thou laughest not, or the magic word
will depart from thy memory for ever, and thou remainest a beast.'
When Selim the learned had read this, the Caliph was pleased beyond
measure. He made the learned man swear not to reveal the secret to
any one, presented him with a splendid robe, and dismissed him. Then
turning to his Grand Vizier he said: 'This I call making a bargain,
Mansor! How glad I am at being able to become an animal! Come to me
to-morrow morning. We will then go together into the fields, take a
pinch out of the box, and then listen to what is said in the air and
the water, in wood and field.'
Next morning, scarcely had the Caliph Chasid breakfasted and dressed
himself, when the Grand Vizier appeared as ordered, to accompany him on
his walk. The Caliph put the box with the magic powder in his girdle,
and having ordered his suite to remain behind, he and the Grand Vizier
set out alone on the journey. They first passed through the large
gardens of the Caliph, but looked in vain for any living thing on which
to try the experiment. The Vizier at last proposed to pursue their
journey to a pond, where he had often seen many animals, especially
storks, whose grave manners and clappings had always excited his
attention.
The Caliph approved of the Vizier's proposal, and went with him towards
the pond. Having arrived there, they saw a stork soberly pacing up
and down looking for frogs, and chattering something now and then to
itself. At the same moment they saw far up in the sky another stork
hovering in this direction.
'I wager my beard, most gracious Master,' said the Grand Vizier, 'this
long-legged pair are now having a pleasant talk. How would it be if we
turned into storks?'
'Wisely spoken,' replied the Caliph. 'But first, let us consider how we
may become men again. It is easy enough! If we bow thrice to the East,
and say Mutabor, I shall be Caliph and thou Vizier. But for heaven's
sake no laughing, or we are lost.'
While the Caliph spoke thus, he saw the other stork hovering over their
heads, and slowly alighting on the ground. Quickly he snatched the box
from his girdle, took a hearty pinch, gave the box to the Grand Vizier,
who did the like, and both exclaimed 'Mutabor!'
Then their legs shrivelled and became thin and red, the beautiful
yellow slippers of the Caliph and those of his Vizier changed into ugly
storks' feet, their arms grew into wings, their necks shot up from
their shoulders and reached a yard in length, their beards vanished,
and soft feathers covered their bodies.
'You have a pretty beak, Mr. Grand Vizier,' said the Caliph after a
surprised silence. 'By the beard of the Prophet, I have never seen such
things in my life!' 'Thanks humbly,' replied the Vizier, bowing; 'but
if I might dare say so, I should avow that your Highness looks almost
handsomer as a stork than a Caliph. But come, if it pleases you, let us
listen to our comrades yonder and hear if we really speak storkish.'
Meanwhile the other stork had reached the ground. It cleaned its feet
with its beak, settled its feathers, and walked up to the first stork.
The two new storks hastened to get near them, and to their surprise
heard the following conversation: 'Good morning, Madam Longlegs! You
are early on the meadows.' 'Thank you, dear Clapper-beak! I have been
to get a little breakfast. Would you like to have a quarter of a lizard
or a little leg of a frog?' 'Much obliged; but I have no appetite this
morning. Besides, I have come upon quite a different errand on the
meadow. I am to dance before my father's guests to-day, and I want to
practise a little quietly.'
Thereupon the young stork began to caper about the field in peculiar
movements. The Caliph and Mansor watched her, very much surprised. But
when she stood on one leg in a picturesque attitude, and fluttered
her wings to increase the effect, neither of them could resist;
laughter without stopping burst from their beaks, from which they only
recovered a long time afterwards. The Caliph was the first to recover
self-possession: 'That was a joke,' he exclaimed, 'which cannot be
bought for gold. What a pity the stupid animals should have been scared
by our laughter, else they would also have sung, to be sure!'
But now it occurred to the Grand Vizier that laughing during the
enchantment was forbidden. He therefore communicated his fears to the
Caliph. 'By Mecca and Medina, that would be a bad joke if I were to
remain a stork! Do bethink thee of the stupid word; I cannot recall it.'
'Three times we must bow to the East and say: Mu--Mu--Mu.'
They turned towards the East and kept on bowing continually till their
beaks nearly touched the ground. But, alas! the magic word had escaped
them, and often as the Caliph bowed, and eagerly as his Vizier added
Mu--Mu--, yet every recollection of it had gone, and the poor Chasid
and his Vizier were storks, and remained so.
Sadly the enchanted ones wandered through the fields, not knowing what
to do in their misery. They could not discard their stork-plumage,
nor could they return into the town and make themselves known, for
who would have believed that a stork was the Caliph? and even if one
had believed it, would the inhabitants of Bagdad accept a stork for a
Caliph?
Thus they wandered about for several days, living miserably on the
fruits of the field, which they could not swallow very well on account
of their long beaks. As for lizards and frogs, their stomachs could not
relish such food; besides, they were afraid of spoiling their appetite
with such tit-bits. Their only pleasure in their sad situation was that
they could fly, and thus they flew often to the high roofs of Bagdad to
see what was going on in the town.
During the first days they remarked great uneasiness and grief in the
streets. But on the fourth day of their enchantment, while sitting
on the roof of the Caliph's palace, they saw down in the street
below a splendid array. The drums and fifes played; a man dressed in
a gold-embroidered scarlet mantle rode a richly-caparisoned horse,
surrounded by a gaudy train of servants. Half Bagdad rushed about him,
and everybody shouted: 'Hail, Mizra! the ruler of Bagdad!'
Then the two storks upon the roof of the palace looked at each other,
and the Caliph Chasid said: 'Dost thou guess now why I am enchanted,
Grand Vizier? This Mizra is the son of my mortal enemy, the mighty
Magician Kaschnur, who in an evil hour swore revenge on me. But still
I do not despair. Come with me, thou faithful companion of my misery;
we will betake ourselves to the grave of the Prophet; perhaps at that
sacred shrine the magic may be dispelled.'
They rose from the roof of the palace and flew towards Medina.
They did not succeed very well in flying, for as yet they had had very
little practice. 'O Master!' sighed the Grand Vizier after a couple of
hours' flight, 'with your leave I can hold out no longer, you fly too
swiftly for me! Besides, it is dark already, and we should do well to
seek shelter for the night.'
Chasid listened to the request of his servant; and seeing beneath them
in the valley some ruins which promised a lodging, they flew towards
it. The place where they had settled for the night seemed formerly
to have been a castle. Splendid pillars rose from among the ruins;
several chambers which were still tolerably preserved testified
to the bygone splendour of the building. Chasid and his companion
strolled through the passages in search of some dry nook, when suddenly
the stork Mansor stopped. 'Lord and Master,' he whispered below his
breath, 'is it not foolish for a Grand Vizier, and still more so for
a stork to fear ghosts? Still, I feel very uneasy, for close by some
one sighed and groaned quite distinctly.' The Caliph now also stopped,
and heard quite plainly a low sob, which seemed rather to come from a
man than an animal. Full of anxiety, he wanted to go towards the spot
whence proceeded the sound of sorrow; but the Vizier seized him by the
wing with his beak and begged him not to rush upon new and unknown
perils. But all was of no avail. The Caliph, who bore a brave heart
beneath his stork plumage, tore himself away with the loss of some
feathers, and ran towards a gloomy passage. Soon he came to a door
which was ajar, and behind which he heard distinct sighs and moans.
He pushed open the door with his beak, but stopped on the threshold
in astonishment. In the ruined chamber, which was only dimly lighted
by a little iron-barred window, he saw a great night-owl sitting on
the ground. Heavy tears rolled out of its large round eyes, and with
a hoarse voice it uttered its moans from its hooked beak. But when it
saw the Caliph and his Vizier, who had come up in the meantime, it
gave a loud cry of joy. Elegantly it wiped the tears from its eye with
its brown-flecked wings, and to the great amazement of both, it cried
in good human Arabic: 'Welcome, ye storks; you are a good omen to me
of my deliverance, for through storks I am to be lucky, as it was once
foretold me.'
When the Caliph had recovered from his astonishment, he bowed with
his long neck, set his thin legs in a graceful position, and said:
'Night-owl! from thy words I believe that I see a fellow-sufferer.
But alas! thy hope of deliverance through us is in vain. Thou wilt
recognise our helplessness in hearing our tale.' The night-owl begged
him to relate it, and the Caliph commenced to relate what we already
know.
When the Caliph had related his story to the owl she thanked him, and
said: 'Now also listen to my tale, and learn how I am no less unlucky
than you are yourself. My father is the king of the Indies; I, his
only unhappy daughter, am called Lusa. That Magician Kaschnur, who has
enchanted you, has also brought misfortune upon me. One day he came to
my father and asked me in marriage for his son Mizra. But my father,
who is a fiery man, had him thrown downstairs. The wretch knew how to
approach me again under another shape, and one day, while I was taking
some refreshments in my garden, he administered to me, disguised as a
slave, a draught, which changed me into this hideous shape. Fainting
from fear, he brought me hither and shouted with a terrible voice into
my ear: "Here shalt thou remain, detestable, abhorred even by beast,
to thy end, or till one of free will, himself in this horrid form,
asks thee to be his wife. And thus I revenge myself on thee and on thy
haughty father."
'Since then many months have passed. Lonely and sadly I live as a
recluse within these ruins, shunned by the world, a scarecrow even to
beasts: beautiful nature is hidden from me, for I am blind by daylight,
and only when the moon pours her wan light over these ruins does the
obscuring veil drop from my eyes.'
When the owl had finished she again wiped her eyes with her wings, for
the story of her woes had moved her to tears.
The Caliph, by the story of the Princess, was plunged into deep
thought. 'If I am not mistaken,' said he, 'there is between our
misfortunes a secret connection; but where can I find the key to this
riddle?' The owl answered him: 'O Master! such is also my belief; for
once in my infancy a wise woman foretold that a stork should bring
me a great fortune, and I know one way by which perhaps we may free
ourselves.' The Caliph was very much surprised, and asked what way
she meant. 'The enchanter who has made us both unhappy,' said she,
'comes once every month to these ruins. Not far from here is a hall
where he holds orgies with numerous companions. Often have I spied
them there. They then relate to one another their vile deeds. Perhaps
he may pronounce the magic word which you have forgotten.' 'O dearest
Princess,' exclaimed the Caliph, 'say when comes he, and where is the
hall?'
The owl was silent a moment, and then said: 'You must not take it ill,
but only on one condition can I fulfil your wish.' 'Speak out, speak
out,' cried Chasid. 'Command all, everything of me.'
'It is this, that I may also become free, which can only be if one of
you offer me his hand.'
The stork seemed somewhat taken aback at this proposition, and the
Caliph beckoned to his servant to go out with him a little.
'Grand Vizier,' said the Caliph outside, 'this is a sorry bargain, but
you might take her.' 'Indeed!' answered the Grand Vizier; 'that my wife
when I come home may scratch out my eyes? Besides, I am an old man,
while you are still young and single, and could better give your hand
to a young and fair Princess.'
'That is just it,' sighed the Caliph, whilst sadly drooping his wings.
'Who then has told thee that she is young and fair? It is buying a pig
in a poke.'
They consulted one with the other for a long time. At last when the
Caliph saw that his Vizier would rather remain a stork than wed the
owl, he resolved to fulfil the condition himself. The owl was immensely
pleased. She confessed to them that they could not have come at a more
favourable time, for the enchanters were very likely to assemble that
night.