_Adherence to worthy family traditions is an admirable virtue._
We left August fast asleep inside the precious stove. The journey
was long and cold, and the train stopped and started and August was
jolted about until he woke up stiff and cold and sore. He ate some
cheese and bread he had in his pocket and turned over the best he
could, but still he was very cramped and hungry.
At last the train stopped and August felt himself lifted out of
the box car and set down on the platform. He was afraid the men
would find him inside, so he kept very still, although he was so
cold and hungry that he almost cried. Then a cart came along and
the stove and August were lifted up and carried for miles and miles
and set down in a warehouse where they stayed all night. August
managed to creep out in the middle of the night and get some snow
and ice to quench his thirst. Then he ate the last of his bread and
cheese, went to sleep on some hay, and woke up just in time to get
back into the stove and pull the wrapping in place as the men came
in.
The men came in early and carried the stove in another cart
somewhere, then lifted it up and took it up stairs over soft
carpets, and then set it down on the floor. August kept very still
for he was sure this was a very grand house, and besides that, he
was very weak with cold and hunger.
“What a beautiful stove!” he heard some one say as the wrappings
were taken off. Then the door of the stove was opened.
“Why, here is a little child inside the stove! What does this
mean?” said the same voice.
August crept out of the stove and knelt down before the grand man
he saw surrounded by others in uniform.
“Oh, sir!” he exclaimed, “please let me stay with my Hirschvogel.
It belonged to my mother, and we love it dearly. Please let me stay
with it!”
The man was the king and he looked very kindly at August and made
him tell all the story of the great stove, and about his father and
his brothers and sisters and the journey he had made inside the
stove. There were tears in the king’s eyes when August had finished
his story.
“You must have loved the stove very much,” said he.
“Oh, yes, sir,” answered the boy; “and it would break my heart to
have to give it up.”
“You need not do that, my child,” said the king, “you may live here
in the palace and look after your stove if you wish.”
August was overjoyed at this. He lived in the palace and took
care of the great stove for the king. In after years he became a
painter on porcelain and painted many fine stoves for the great
lords of the kingdom, but he never could make one as beautiful as
Hirschvogel.