PART III.

* * * * *

TALES OF THE PALACE.

TALES OF THE PALACE.

THE SHEIK'S PALACE AND HIS SLAVES.

Ali Banu, Sheik of Alessandria, was a singular man. When he passed down

the street of a morning, with a superb cashmere turban wound about his

head, and clad in a festival habit, and sash worth not less than fifty

camels, walking with slow and solemn steps, his forehead so contracted

that his eyebrows met, his eyes cast down, and at every fifth step

stroking his long black beard with a thoughtful air--when he thus took

his way to the mosque, to give readings from the Koran to the Faithful,

as required by his office; then the people on the street paused, looked

after him, and said to one another: "He is really a handsome, stately

man." "And rich,--a rich gentleman," another added; "extremely wealthy;

has he not a palace on the harbor of Stamboul? Has he not estates and

lands, and many thousand head of cattle, and a great number of slaves?"

"Yes," spoke up a third; "and the Tartar who was recently sent here from

Stamboul, with a message for the sheik from the sultan (may the Prophet

preserve him), told me that our sheik was thought highly of by the

minister of foreign affairs, by the lord high admiral, by all the

ministers, in fact; yes, even by the sultan." "Yes," exclaimed a

fourth, "fortune attends his steps. He is a wealthy distinguished

gentleman; but--but--you know what I mean!" "Yes, certainly,"

interrupted the others; "it is true he has his burden to carry, and I

wouldn't care to change places with him. He is rich, and a man of rank,

but, but--"

Ali Banu had a splendid house on the finest square in Alessandria. In

front of the house was a broad terrace, surrounded by a marble wall,

and shaded by palm trees. Here the sheik often sat of an evening

smoking his nargileh. At a respectable distance, twelve richly costumed

slaves awaited his orders; one carried his betel, another held his

parasol, a third had vessels of solid gold filled with rare sherbet, a

fourth carried a fan of peacock's feathers to drive away the flies from

his master's person, others were singers and carried lutes and wind

instruments to entertain him with music when he so desired, while the

best educated of them all carried scrolls from which to read to their

master.

But they waited in vain for him to signify his pleasure. He desired

neither music nor song; he did not wish to hear passages or poems from

the wise poets of the past; he would not taste of the sherbet, nor chew

of the betel; and even the slave with the fan had his labor for his

pains, as the master was indifferent to the flies that buzzed about

him.

The passers-by often stopped and wondered over the splendor of the

house, at the richly dressed slaves, and the signs of comfort that

prevailed every-where; but when their eyes fell on the sheik, sitting

so grave and melancholy under the palms, with his gaze never once

wandering from the little blue clouds of his nargileh, they shook their

heads and said: "Truly, this rich man is a poor man. He, who has so

much, is poorer than one who has nothing; for the Prophet has not given

him the sense to enjoy it." Thus spake the people; they laughed at him

and passed on.

One evening, as the sheik again sat under the palms before his door, in

all his pomp, some young men standing in the street looked at him and

laughed.

"Truly," said one, "Sheik Ali Banu is a foolish man; had I his wealth,

I should make a different use of it. Every day I would live sumptuously

and in joy; my friends should dine with me in the large _salons_ of the

house, and song and laughter should fill these sad halls."

"Yes," rejoined another, "all that might be very fine; but many friends

would make short work of a fortune, even were it as large as that of

the sultan (whom the Prophet preserve); but if I sat there under the

palms, fronting this beautiful square, my slaves should sing and play,

my dancers should come and dance and leap and furnish all sorts of

entertainment. Then, too, I should take pleasure in smoking the

nargileh, should be served with the costly sherbet, and enjoy myself in

all this like a king of Bagdad."

"The sheik," said a third young man, who was a writer, "should be a

wise and learned man; and really his lectures on the Koran show him to

be a man of extensive reading; But is his life ordered as is beseeming

in a man of sense? There stands a slave, with an armful of scrolls; I

would give my best suit of clothes just to read one of them, for they

are certainly rare treasures. But he! Why, he sits and smokes, and

leaves books--books--alone! If I were Sheik Ali Banu, the fellow should

read to me until he was entirely out of breath, or until night came on;

and even then he should read to me till I had fallen asleep."

"Ha! you will grant that my plan for enjoying life is the best,"

laughed a fourth. "Eating and drinking, dancing and singing, hearing

the tales and poems of miserable authors! No, I would have it all

another way. He has the finest of horses and camels, and abundance of

money. In his place, I would travel--travel to the ends of the earth,

to the Muscovites, to the Franks; no distance should prevent my seeing

the wonders of the world. That's what I would do, if I were that man

yonder."

"Youth is a beautiful season, and the age at which one is joyful," said

an old man, of insignificant appearance, who stood near them, and had

overheard their conversation. "But permit me to say that youth is also

foolish, and talks thoughtlessly now and then without knowing what it

says."

"What were you saying, old man?" asked the young men in surprise. "Did

you mean us? How does it concern you, if we find fault with the sheik's

mode of life?"

"If one is better informed than another, he should correct the other's

errors; so says the Prophet," rejoined the old man. "The sheik, it is

true, is blessed with plenty, and has every thing that the heart could

desire; yet he has reason to be sad and melancholy. Did you suppose he

was always thus? No; fifteen years ago he was cheerful and active as

the gazelle, lived merrily, and enjoyed life. At that time he had a

son, the joy of his life, handsome and talented, and those who saw and

heard him talk envied the sheik his idol, for he was not more than ten

years old, and yet there were few youths of eighteen as well educated."

"And he died? The poor sheik!" cried the young writer.

"It would be a consolation to the sheik to know that he had gone to the

mansions of the Prophet, where he would be better off than here in

Alessandria; but that which the sheik had to suffer is far worse. It

was at the time when the Franks, like hungry wolves, invaded our land,

and waged war against us. They took Alessandria, and from here they

went on further and attacked the Mamelukes. The sheik was a wise man,

and understood how to get along with the enemy. But whether it was

because they had designs on his treasure, or because he had taken the

Faithful into his house, I do not know for a certainty; but they came

one day to him and accused him of having secretly supplied the

Mamelukes with provisions, horses and weapons. It was of no use that he

proved his innocence, for the Franks are a rough, hardhearted people,

when it is a question of extorting money. They took his young son,

Kairam, as a hostage to their camp. The sheik offered a large sum of

money for his return, but they held on to the boy for a still higher

bid. In the meantime they received an order from their pasha, or

whatever his title might be, to embark on their vessels. Not a soul in

Alessandria knew a thing about it, and all at once they were seen

standing out to sea, having, it is believed, taken little Kairam with

them, as nothing has ever been heard of him since."

"Oh, the poor man! how terribly Allah has chastened him!" the young men

exclaimed in concert, looking with pity at the sheik, who, with such

magnificent surroundings, sat sad and lonely under the palms.

"His wife, whom he loved so dearly, died from grief at the loss of her

son. The sheik then bought a ship, fitted it out, and induced the Frank

physician who lives down there by the fountain, to sail with him to the

country of the Franks, to search for young Kairam. They set sail, and

had a long passage before reaching the land of those Giaours, those

Infidels, who had been in Alessandria. But there every thing was in a

horrible tumult. They had just beheaded their sultan; and the pashas

and the rich and the poor were now engaged in taking each other's heads

off, and there was no order or law in the land. Their search for little

Kairam was a vain one, and the Frank physician finally advised the

sheik to embark for home, as their own heads might be endangered by a

longer stay. So they came back again; and since their arrival the sheik

has lived just as he does to-day, mourning for his son. And he is in

the right. Must he not think, whenever he eats and drinks: 'Perhaps at

this moment my poor Kairam hungers and thirsts?' And when he has

arranged himself in costly shawls, and holiday suits, as required by

his office and rank, must he not think: 'He has probably nothing now

with which to cover his nakedness?' And when he is surrounded by

singers, dancers, readers, who are all his slaves, does he not think:

'Now my son may be dancing and making music for his master in the

Frank's country, just as he is ordered?' But what pains him most is the

fear lest little Kairam, being so far from the land of his fathers, and

surrounded by Infidels who jest at his religion, may become separated

from the faith of his fathers, so that he will not at the last be able

to embrace him in the gardens of paradise. This is what makes him so

mild with his slaves, and prompts his large gifts to the poor; for he

believes that Allah will recompense him by moving the heart of his

son's master to treat Kairam with kindness. Also, on each anniversary

of his son's abduction, he sets twelve slaves free."

"I have heard of that," said the writer. "One hears curious stories

floating about; but no mention was made to me of the son. But, on the

other hand, it is said that the sheik is a singular man, and remarkably

fond of stories, and that every year he institutes a story-telling

match between his slaves, and the one who tells the best story is

rewarded with his freedom."

"Don't put any faith in these reports," said the old man. "It is just

as I have told you; it is, however, possible that he seeks the

relaxation afforded by a story, on this day of painful recollections;

but still he frees the slaves on his son's account. But the night is

cold, and I have far to go. _Schalem aleikum_--peace be with you, young

gentlemen, and think better, in the future, of the good sheik."

The young people thanked the old man for the information he had given

them, glanced once more at the sorrowing father, and walked away saying

to one another: "On the whole, I should not care to be the Sheik Ali

Banu."

Not long afterward, it so happened that these same young men passed

down the street at the hour of morning prayers. The old man and his

story recurred to their minds, and they expressed their sympathy for

the sheik as they looked up at his house. But how astonished were they

to find the house and grounds gaily decorated! From the roof, where

comely slave women were promenading, banners waved; the porch of the

house was covered with costly carpets; silks were laid down over the

steps, and beautiful cloth, of a texture so fine that most people would

have been glad to have a holiday suit cut from it, was spread well into

the street.

"Hey! How the sheik has changed in the last few days!" exclaimed the

young writer. "Is he about to give a banquet? Will he test the powers

of his singers and dancers? Only look at this carpet! Is there another

as fine in all Alessandria? And this cloth laid right on the ground;

really that is too wasteful!"

"Do you know what I think?" said another. "He must be going to receive

some guest of high rank; for these are preparations such as are made

when a ruler of a great country or a minister of the sultan blesses a

house with his presence. Who can possibly be coming today?"

"Look! is not that our old friend below? He would be able to give us

some information about this. Ho, there! old gentleman! Can't you come

up here a moment?"

The old man noticed their gestures, and approached them, recognizing

them as the young men with whom he had conversed some days before. They

called his attention to the changes in the sheik's house, and asked him

if he knew what distinguished guest was expected.

"You seem to think," replied he, "that Ali Banu has arranged for some

festivities, or that he is to be honored by the visit of some great

man. Such is not the case; but to-day is the twelfth day of the month

of Ramadan, as you know, and is the day on which his son was taken

prisoner."

"But by the beard of the Prophet!" exclaimed one of the young fellows;

"everything there has the appearance of a wedding or other festival;

and still it is the anniversary of his greatest sorrow. Come, how will

you harmonize this discrepancy? Confess that the sheik is somewhat

shattered in mind."

"Do you always render such a hasty verdict, my young friend?" asked the

old man, smiling. "This time also your arrow was pointed and sharp, and

the string of your bow drawn tight; and yet your arrow flew wide of the

mark. Know, then, that to-day the sheik expects his son!"

"Then he is found?" shouted the young men joyfully.

"No, and it will probably be a long time before he is found. But

listen: Eight or ten years ago, as the sheik was passing this

anniversary in sorrow and lamentations, also freeing slaves and giving

food and drink to the poor, it so happened that he also gave food and

drink to a dervish, who, tired and faint, lay in the shadow of his

house. Now the dervish was a holy man, and experienced in prophecies

and the signs of the stars. After his refreshment by the kind hand of

the sheik, he went up to him and said: 'I know the cause of your

sorrow; is not today the twelfth of Ramadan, and was it not on this day

that you lost your son? But cheer up, for this day of sadness shall be

changed to one of joy; know that on this same day your son will

sometime return to you.'

"Thus spake the dervish. It would be a sin for a Mussulman to doubt the

word of such a man, and although the sorrow of Ali Banu may not have

been lessened thereby, yet he continues to look for the return of his

son on this day, and adorns his house and porch and steps as though

little Kairam might arrive at any moment."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed the writer. "But I should like to see the

decorations inside the house, and note how the sheik bears himself

amongst all this splendor; but, above all, I should like to listen to

the tales that are related to him by his slaves."

"Nothing easier to arrange than that," replied the old man. "The

steward of the slaves of that house has been my friend these many

years, and would not grudge me a seat in the _salon_, where, among the

crowd of servants and friends of the sheik, a single stranger would not

be noticed. I will speak to him about letting you in; there are only

four of you, and it might be arranged. Come at the ninth hour to this

square, and I will give you an answer."

The young men returned their thanks, and went away full of curiosity to

see how all this would end.

The young men were on hand at the appointed hour, and on the square

before the sheik's house they met the old man, who told them that the

steward would admit them. He went before them, not by way of the

decorated steps and gate, but through a little side gate, that he

closed carefully after them. Then he led them through many passages

until they came to the large _salon_. Here there was a great crowd on

all sides; there were richly dressed men of rank of the city--friends

of the sheik, who had come to console him in his sorrow. There were

slaves of every race and nation. But everybody wore a sorrowful

expression, for they all loved their master and shared his grief. At

one end of the _salon_, on a costly divan, sat the nearest friends of

Ali Banu, who were waited upon by slaves. Near them, on the floor, sat

the sheik, whose grief would not permit him to sit in state. His head

was supported in his hands, and he seemed to be paying little attention

to the consolations whispered to him by his friends. Opposite him sat

some old and young men in slave costume. The old man informed his young

friends that these were the slaves whom Ali Banu would free to-day.

Among them were some Franks; and the old man called his friends'

special attention to one of them, who was of extraordinary beauty, and

was still quite young. The sheik had recently bought him, for an

enormous sum, from some slave-dealers of Tunis, and was,

notwithstanding his high cost, about to set him free, believing that

the more Franks he returned to their fatherland the sooner the Prophet

would restore his son.

After refreshments had been handed around, the sheik gave a sign to the

steward, who now stood up amid the deep silence that prevailed in the

room. He stepped before the slaves who were shortly to be freed, and

said in a clear voice: "Men, who will receive your freedom to-day,

through the grace of my master Ali Banu, Sheik of Alessandria, conform

now to the custom of this house on this day, and begin your

narratives."

After much whispering among themselves, an old slave arose and began

his story.

* * * * *

THE DWARF NOSEY.

Sire! They are wrong who believe that fairies and magicians existed

only at the time of Haroun-al-Raschid, or who assert that the reports

of the doings of the genii and their princes, which one hears on the

market-place, are untrue. There are fairies to-day, and it is not so

long ago that I myself was the witness of an occurrence in which genii

were concerned.

In an important city of my dear fatherland, Germany, there lived, some

years ago, a poor but honest shoemaker and his wife. In the day time he

sat at the corner of the street, repairing shoes and slippers, and even

made new ones when he could find a customer, although he had to first

purchase the leather, as he was too poor to keep any stock on hand. His

wife sold vegetables and fruits, raised by her on a small plat before

their door, and many people chose to buy of her because she was clean

and neatly dressed, and knew how to make the best display of her

vegetables.

These worthy people had a pleasant-faced, handsome boy, well-shaped and

quite large for a child of eight years. He was accustomed to sit by his

mother's side on the market-place, and to carry home a part of the

fruit for the women or cooks who bought largely of his mother; and he

rarely returned from these errands without a beautiful flower, or a

piece of money, or cakes;--as the masters of these cooks were always

pleased to see the little fellow at their houses, and never failed to

reward him generously.

One day the shoemaker's wife sat, as usual, in the market-place; while

ranged around her were baskets of cabbages and other vegetables, all

kinds of herbs and seeds, and also, in a small basket, early pears,

apples, and apricots. Little Jacob--this was the boy's name--sat near

her and cried her wares in a manly voice: "This way, gentlemen! see

what beautiful cabbages! how sweet-smelling are these herbs! early

pears, ladies! early apples and apricots! Who buys? My mother offers

them cheap." An old woman came to the market, torn and ragged, with a

small sharp-featured face, wrinkled with age, and a crooked pointed

nose that nearly reached the chin. She leaned on a long crutch; and it

was not easy to see how she got over the ground, as she limped and slid

and staggered along--as if she had wheels on her feet, and was in

momentary danger of being tilted over and striking her pointed nose on

the pavement.

The shoemaker's wife looked attentively at this old woman. For sixteen

years she had been in daily attendance at the market, but had never

before seen this singular creature. But she involuntarily shrank back,

as the old woman tottered towards her and stopped before her baskets.

"Are you Hannah, the vegetable dealer?" asked the old woman, in a harsh

cracked voice, her head shaking from side to side.

"Yes, I am she," replied the shoemaker's wife. "Can I do any thing for

you?"

"We'll see, we'll see! Look at the herbs, look at the herbs, and see

whether you have any thing I want," answered the old woman as she bent

down over the baskets, and, pushing her dark skinny hands down among

the herbs, seized the bundles that were so tastefully spread out, and

raised them one after another to her long nose, snuffing at every part

of them. It pressed heavily on the heart of the shoemaker's wife to see

her rare herbs handled in such a way, but she did not dare to offer any

objections, as purchasers were privileged to examine her goods; and,

besides this, she experienced a singular fear of the old woman. When

she had rummaged through the basket, the old woman muttered: "Miserable

stuff! poor herbs! nothing there that I want; much better fifty years

ago; bad stuff--bad stuff!"

These remarks displeased little Jacob. "You are a shameless old woman!"

cried he, angrily. "First you put your dirty brown fingers into the

beautiful herbs and rumple them, then you put them up to your long

nose, so that any one who saw it done will never buy them, and then you

abuse our wares by calling them poor stuff, when, let me tell you, the

duke's cook buys every thing of us!"

The old woman squinted at the spirited boy, laughed derisively, and

said in a husky voice: "Sonny--sonny! So my nose, my beautiful long

nose, pleases you? You shall also have one in the middle of your face

to hang down to your chin." While speaking, she slid along to another

basket containing cabbages. She took the finest white head up in her

hands, squeezed them together till they creaked, flung them down again

into the basket in disorder, and repeated once more: "Bad wares! poor

cabbages!"

"Don't wabble your head about so horribly!" exclaimed the boy,

uneasily. "Your neck is as thin as a cabbage-Stem; it might break and

let your head fall into the basket; who then would buy of us?"

"Don't you like my thin neck?" muttered the old woman, laughing. "You

shall have none at all, but your head shall stick into your shoulders,

so as not to fall from your little body."

"Don't talk such stuff to the child!" said the shoemaker's wife,

indignant at the continued inspection, fingering and smelling of her

wares. "If you want to buy any thing, make haste; you are driving off

all my other customers."

"Good! it shall be as you say," cried the old woman, grimly. "I will

take these six heads of cabbage. But look here--I have to lean on my

crutch and cannot carry any thing; let your little son carry my

purchases home; I will reward him."

The child was unwilling to go, and began to cry, as he was afraid of

the ugly old woman; but his mother bade him go, as she considered it a

sin to burden a weak old woman with so heavy a load. Half crying, he

obeyed her; gathered the cabbages together in a towel, and followed the

old woman from the market.

She went so slowly that it was three quarters of an hour before she

reached a remote part of the city, and finally stopped before a

tumble-down house. Then she drew a rusty old hook from her pocket, and

inserted it skillfully into a small hole in the door, which sprung open

with a bang. But how surprised was little Jacob as he entered! The

interior of the house was splendidly fitted up; the ceilings and walls

were of marble; the furniture of the finest ebony, inlaid with gold and

mother-of-pearl; while the floor was of glass, and so smooth that the

boy slipped and fell several times. The old woman then drew a silver

whistle from her pocket and whistled a tune that resounded shrilly

through the house. In response to this, some Guinea-pigs came down the

stairs; but, as seemed strange to Jacob, they walked upright on two

legs, wore nutshells in place of shoes, and had on clothes and even

hats of the latest fashion.

"Where are my slippers, you rabble?" demanded the old woman, striking

at them with her crutch as they sprang squeaking into the air. "How

long must I stand here waiting?"

The pigs rushed quickly up the stairs, and soon returned, bringing a

pair of cocoanut shells lined with leather, which the old woman put on.

Now all her limping and stumbling disappeared. She threw her staff

away, and glided with great rapidity over the glass floor, pulling

little Jacob along by the hand. At last she stopped in a room

containing all kinds of furniture, that bore some resemblance to a

kitchen, although the tables were mahogany, and the divans were covered

with rich tapestry, suitable for a room of state.

"Take a seat," said the old woman pleasantly, placing Jacob in a corner

of the divan and moving the table before him, so that he could not well

get out of his seat. "Sit down; you have had a heavy load to carry.

Human heads are not so light, not so light."

"But, madame, what strange things you say!" cried the boy. "I am really

tired; but then I carried cabbage-heads that you bought of my mother."

"Eh! you are mistaken," laughed the old woman, as she lifted the cover

of the basket and took out a human head by the hair. The child was

frightened nearly out of his wits. He could not imagine how this had

occurred; but he thought at once of his mother, and that if any one

were to hear of this she would certainly be arrested.

"I must now give you a reward for being so polite," muttered the old

woman. "Have patience for a little while, and I will make you a soup

that you will never forget as long as you live." With this she whistled

once more. Thereupon many Guinea-pigs, all in clothes, came in; they

had kitchen aprons tied around them, and in their waistbands were

ladles and carving-knives. After these, a lot of squirrels came leaping

in, dressed in wide Turkish trousers, standing upright, and wearing

little velvet caps on their heads. They seemed to be the scullions, as

they raced up and down the walls and brought pans and dishes, eggs and

butter, herbs and meal, which they placed on the hearth. Then the old

woman glided across the floor in her cocoanut shoes, bustled about now

here and now there, and the boy saw she was about to cook him

something. Now the fire crackled and blazed up; then the kettle began

to smoke and steam; an agreeable odor was spread through the room:

while the old woman ran back and forth, followed by the squirrels and

Guinea-pigs, and whenever she came to the fire she stopped to stick her

long nose into the pot. Finally the soup began to bubble and boil,

clouds of steam shot up into the air, and the froth ran over into the

fire. Thereupon the old woman took the kettle off, poured some of its

contents into a silver bowl, and placed the same before little Jacob,

saying:

"There, sonny, there, eat some of this soup, and you shall have those

things that so pleased you about me. You will also become a clever

cook; but herbs--no, you will never find such herbs; why didn't your

mother have them in her basket."

The boy did not understand very well what she said, but he gave his

whole attention to the soup, which was very much to his taste. His

mother had often prepared him nice food, but never any thing that could

equal this. The fragrance of choice herbs and spices rose from his

soup, which was neither too sweet nor too sour, and very strong.

While he was swallowing the last drops from the bowl, the Guinea-pigs

burned some Arabic incense, the blue smoke of which swept through the

room. Thicker and thicker became these clouds, till they filled the

room from floor to ceiling. The odor of the incense had a magical

effect on the boy; for, cry as often as he would that he must go back

to his mother, at every attempt to rouse himself he sank back sleepily,

and finally fell fast asleep on the old woman's divan. He dreamed

strange dreams. It seemed to him that the old woman was pulling off

his clothes, and giving him in their place the skin of a squirrel.

Now he could leap and climb like a squirrel; he associated with the

other squirrels and with the Guinea-pigs, all of whom were very nice

well-bred people, and in common with them, thought himself in the

service of the old woman. At first his duties were those of a

shoe-black--that is, he had to put oil on the cocoanuts that served the

old woman for slippers, and rub them until they shone brightly.

However, as he had often done similar work at home, he was quite

skillful at it. After the first year--as it seemed to him in his

dream--he was given more genteel employment; with other squirrels, he

was occupied in catching floating particles of dust, and when they had

accumulated enough of these particles, they rubbed them through the

finest hair sieve, for the old woman considered these dust atoms to be

something superb, and as she had lost her teeth, she had her bread made

of them. After another year's service, he thought, he was placed in the

ranks of those whose duty it was to provide the old woman with

drinking-water. You must not suppose that she had had a cistern sunk,

or placed a barrel in the yard to catch rain-water for this purpose;

no, there was much more refinement displayed; the squirrels--and Jacob

among them--had to collect the dew of the roses in hazelnut shells

for the old woman's drink. And as she was a very thirsty body, the

water-carriers had a hard time of it. In the course of another year he

was given some inside work, such as the position of floor-cleaner; and

as the floor was of glass, on which even a breath would gather, he had

no easy task. They had to sweep it, and were required to do their feet

up in old cloths, and in that condition step around the room. In the

fourth year he was employed in the kitchen. This was a position of

honor that could be attained only after a long apprenticeship. Jacob

served there, rising from a scullion to be first pastry-cook, and

soon acquired such uncommon cleverness and experience in all arts of

the kitchen, that he often wondered at himself. The most difficult

dishes--such as pasties seasoned with two hundred different essences,

and vegetable soup consisting of all the vegetables on earth--all this

he was learned in, and could prepare any thing speedily. Thus had some

seven years passed in the service of the old woman, when one day she

took off her cocoanut shoes, grasped her crutch, and ordered Jacob to

pluck a chicken, stuff it with herbs, and have it all nicely roasted by

the time she came back. He did all this in accordance with the rules of

his art. He wrung the chicken's neck, scalded it in hot water, pulled

out the feathers, scraped the skin till it was nice and smooth, and,

having drawn it, began to collect some herbs for the dressing. In the

room where the vegetables were kept he discovered a closet which he had

never noticed before, the door of which stood ajar. He went nearer,

curious to see what was kept there; and beheld many baskets, from which

a powerful but pleasant odor arose. He opened one of these baskets and

found therein herbs of quite peculiar shape and color. The stems and

leaves were of a bluish-green, and bore a small flower of brilliant

red, bordered with gold. He examined this flower thoughtfully, smelt of

it, and discovered that it gave forth the same strong odor that he had

inhaled from the soup the old woman had cooked for him so long ago. But

so strong was the fragrance that he began to sneeze; he sneezed more

and more violently, and at last--woke up, sneezing.

[Illustration]

He lay on the divan and looked around him in astonishment. "Really, how

true one's dreams do seem!" said he to himself. "Just now I should have

been willing to swear that I was a mean little squirrel, the companion

of Guinea-pigs and other low creatures, and from them exalted to be a

great cook! How my mother will laugh when I tell her all this! But may

she not scold me for going to sleep in a strange house, instead of

hurrying back to help her at the market-place?"

So thinking, he got up to go away; but found his limbs cramped, and his

neck so stiff that he could not move it from side to side. He had to

laugh at himself for being so helplessly sleepy; for every moment,

before he knew it, he was striking his nose on a clothes-press, or on

the wall, or knocked it against the door-frame when he turned around

quickly. The squirrels and Guinea-pigs were whining around him, as if

they wanted to accompany him, and he actually gave them an invitation

to do so, as he stood upon the threshold, for they were nice little

creatures; but they rushed quickly back into the house on their

nutshells, and he could hear them squeaking from a distance.

It was a remote quarter of the city into which the old woman had led

him, and he had difficulty in finding his way out of the narrow alleys;

besides, he was in the midst of a crowd who seemed to have discovered a

dwarf in the vicinity, for all around him he heard shouts of: "Hey!

look at the ugly dwarf! Where does the dwarf come from? Why, what a

long nose he has! and look at the way his head sticks into his

shoulders, and his ugly brown hands!" At any other time, Jacob would

willingly have joined them, as it was one of the delights of his life

to see giants or dwarfs, or any rare and strange sights; but now he

felt obliged to hurry back to his mother.

He was rather uneasy in his mind when he arrived at the market. His

mother still sat there, and had quite a quantity of fruit in the

basket; so that he could not have slept very long after all. But still

he noticed, before reaching her, that she was very sad, as she did not

call on the passers to buy, but supported her head in her hand; and

when he came nearer he thought her much paler than usual. He hesitated

as to what he should do, but finally mustered up courage to slip up

behind her, laid his hand confidingly on her arm and said: "Mother,

what is the matter? Are you angry with me?"

His mother turned around, but on perceiving him sprang back with a cry

of horror.

"What do you want with me, ugly dwarf?" cried she. "Be off with you! I

will not stand such tricks!"

"But, mother, what is the matter with you?" asked Jacob, in a

frightened way. "You are certainly not well; why do you chase your son

away from you?"

"I have already told you to go your way," replied Hannah, angrily. "You

will get no money from me by your jugglery, you hateful monster!"

"Surely, God has taken away her understanding!"

said the child, sorrowfully, to himself. "What means shall I take to

get her home? Dear mother, only be reasonable now; just look at me once

closely; I am really your son, your Jacob."

"This joke is being carried too far," cried Hannah to her neighbor.

"Only look at this hateful dwarf, who stands there and keeps away all

my customers, besides daring to make a jest of my misfortune. He says

to me, 'I am your son, your Jacob,'--the impudent fellow!"

Upon that Hannah's neighbors all got up and began to abuse him as

wickedly as they knew how--and market-women, as you know, understand it

pretty well--ending by accusing him of making sport of the misfortune

of poor Hannah, whose son, beautiful as a picture, had been stolen from

her seven years ago: and they threatened to fall upon him in a body,

and scratch his eyes out, if he did not at once go away.

Poor little Jacob knew not what to make of all this. Was it not true

that he had gone to the market as usual with his mother, early this

morning? that he had helped her arrange the fruits, and afterwards had

gone with the old woman to her house, had there eaten a little soup,

had indulged in a short nap, and come right back again? And now his

mother and her neighbors talked about seven years, and called him an

ugly dwarf! What, then, had happened to him?

When he saw that his mother would not hear another word from him, tears

sprang into his eyes, and he went sadly down the street to the stall

where his father mended shoes. "Now I will see," thought he, "whether

my father will not know me. I will stop in the door-way and speak to

him." On arriving at the shoemaker's stall, he placed himself in the

door-way, and looked in. The master was so busily occupied with his

work, that he did not notice him at first, but when by chance he

happened to look at the door, he let shoes, thread and awl drop to the

ground, and exclaimed in affrights "In heaven's name!--what is that?

what is that?"

"Good evening, master," said the boy, as he stepped inside the shop.

"How do you do?"

"Poorly, poorly, little master," replied the father, to Jacob's great

surprise; as he also did not seem to recognize him. "My business does

not flourish very well, I have no one to assist me, and am getting old;

and yet an apprentice would be too dear."

"But have you no little son, who could one of these days assist you in

your work?" inquired the boy.

"I had one, whose name was Jacob, and who must now be a tall active

fellow of twenty, who could be a great support to me were he here. He

must lead a happy life now. When he was only twelve years old he showed

himself to be very clever, and already understood a good deal about the

trade. He was pretty and pleasant too. He would have attracted custom,

so that I should not have to mend any more, but only make new shoes.

But so it goes in the world!"

"Where is your son, then?" asked Jacob, in a trembling voice.

"God only knows," replied the old man. "Seven years ago,--seven

years--he was stolen from us on the market-place."

"Seven years ago!" exclaimed Jacob in amazement.

"Yes, little master, seven years ago. I remember as though it were but

yesterday how my wife came home weeping, and crying that the child had

been gone the whole day, that she had inquired and searched everywhere,

but could not find him. I had often said that it would turn out so; for

Jacob was a beautiful child, as everybody said, and my wife was so

proud of him, and was pleased when the people praised him, and she

often sent him to carry vegetables and the like to the best houses.

That was all well enough; he was richly rewarded every time; but I

always said: 'Take care! the city is large, and many bad people live in

it. Mind what I say about little Jacob?' Well, it turned out as I had

predicted. An ugly old woman once came to the market, haggled over some

fruits and vegetables, and finally bought more than she could carry

home. My wife--compassionate soul--sent the child with her; and from

that hour we saw him no more!"

"And that was seven years ago you say?"

"It will be seven years in the Spring. We had him cried on the streets,

and went from house to house and inquired for him. Many had known and

loved the pretty youngster, and now searched with us; but all in vain.

Nor did any one know who the woman was that had bought the vegetables;

but a decrepit old woman, some ninety years of age, said that it was

very likely the wicked witch _Kraeuterweiss_, who comes once in every

fifty years to the city to make purchases."

Such was the story Jacob's father told him; and when the shoemaker had

finished, he pegged away stoutly at his shoe, drawing the thread out

with both fists as far as his arms could reach.

By and by Jacob comprehended what had happened to him, namely: that he

had not dreamed at all, but that he must have served the wicked witch

as a squirrel for seven years. Anger and grief so swelled his heart

that it almost broke. The old woman had stolen seven years of his

youth; and what had he received as compensation therefor? The ability

to make cocoanut slippers shine brightly; to clean a glass floor; and

all the mysteries of cooking that he had learned of the guinea-pigs. He

stood there a long time thinking over his fate, when his father finally

asked him: "Is there any thing in my line you would like, young master?

A pair of new slippers, or," he added, smiling, "perhaps a covering for

your nose."

"What's that about my nose?" asked Jacob. "What do I want of a cover

for it?"

"Well," responded the shoemaker, "every one to his taste; but I must

say this much to you: if I had such a terrible nose, I would make for

it a case of rose-colored patent leather. Look! I have a fine piece of

it in my hand here; it would take at least a yard. But how well your

nose would be protected! As it is now, I know you can't help striking

your nose on every door-post, and against every wagon that you try to

get out of the way of."

Jacob stood mute with terror. He felt of his nose; it was thick, and at

least two hands long! So, too, had the old woman changed his figure so

that his mother did not know him, and everybody had called him an ugly

dwarf!

"Master," said he, half crying, "have you a mirror handy, where I can

look at myself?"

"Young master," replied his father gravely. "You do not possess a

figure that should make you vain, and you can have no reason to look in

a glass every hour. Break off the habit; it is an especially silly one

for you to indulge in."

"Oh, do but let me look in the glass!" cried Jacob. "I assure you it is

not from vanity I ask it."

"Leave me in peace--I have none. My wife has a small one, but I don't

know where she keeps it. But if you are bound to look in a glass,

across the street lives Urban, the barber, who has a mirror twice as

large as your head; look into that; and in the meantime, good morning!"

With these words, his father pushed him gently out of the door, closed

it after him, and sat down once more to his work. Jacob, very much

cast-down, went across the street to Urban, whom he had known well in

the past.

"Good morning, Urban," said he to the barber. "I have come to beg a

small favor of you; be so good as to let me look into your glass a

moment."

"With pleasure; there it is," laughed the barber, and his customers,

who were waiting for a shave, laughed with him. "You are a pretty

fellow, tall and slim, with a neck like a swan, hands like a queen, and

a stumpy nose that can not be equalled for beauty. You are a little

vain of it, to be sure; but keep on looking; it shall not be said of me

that I was so jealous I would not let you look in my glass."

The barber's speech was followed by shouts of laughter that fairly

shook the shop. Jacob, in the meantime, had approached the mirror and

looked at his reflection in the glass. Tears came into his eyes. "Yes,

surely you could not recognize your little Jacob, dear mother," thought

he. "He did not look thus in those joyful days when you paraded with

him before the people!" His eyes had become small, like those of the

pigs; his nose was monstrous, and hung down over his mouth and chin;

the neck seemed to have entirely disappeared, as his head sank deeply

into his shoulders, and it was only with the greatest effort that he

could move it to the right or left. His body was still of the same

height as seven years before; but what others gain from the twelfth to

the twentieth year in height, he made up in breadth. His back and

breast were drawn out rounding, so as to present the appearance of a

small but closely-packed sack. This stout, heavy trunk was placed on

thin, weak legs that did not seem able to support the weight. But still

larger were his arms; they were as large as those of a full-grown man;

his hands were rough, and of a yellowish-brown; his fingers long and

spindling, and when he stretched them down straight he could touch the

ground with their tips without stooping. Such was the appearance of

little Jacob, who had grown to be a misshapen dwarf.

He recalled now the morning on which the old woman had come up to his

mother's baskets. Every thing that he had criticised about her--the

long nose, the ugly fingers, every thing, she had inflicted on him;

only the long trembling neck she had left out entirely.

"Well, have you seen enough of yourself, my prince?" said the barber,

stepping towards him with a laugh. "Really, if one were to try and

dream of any thing like it, it would not be possible. For I will make

you a proposal, my little man. My barber shop is certainly well

patronized, but not so well as it used to be, which results from the

fact that my neighbor, Barber Schaum, has somewhere picked up a giant,

who serves to allure customers to his shop. Now, to grow a giant no

great art is required; but to produce a little man like you is quite

another matter. Enter my service, little man; you shall have food,

drink and lodging--every thing; for all which you shall stand outside

of my door mornings, and invite the people to come in; you shall make

the lather, and hand the customers the towel; and be assured we shall

both be benefitted. I shall get more customers than the man with the

giant, while each one of them will cheerfully give you a fee."

Jacob's soul recoiled at the thought of serving as a sign for a barber.

But was he not forced to suffer this abuse patiently? He therefore

quietly told the barber that he had not the time for such services, and

went on his way.

Although the wicked old woman had changed his form, she had had no

power over his spirit, and of this fact Jacob was well aware, as he no

longer felt and thought as he had done seven years before. No; he knew

he had grown wiser and more intelligent in this interval; he sorrowed

not over his lost beauty, not over his ugly shape, but only over the

fact that he had been driven like a dog from his father's door. He now

resolved to make one more attempt to convince his mother of his

identity.

He went to her in the market, and begged her to listen to him quietly.

He reminded her of the day on which he had gone home with the old

woman, of all the little details of his childhood, told her of his

seven years' service as a squirrel with the old witch, and how she

transformed him because he had criticised her appearance. The

shoemaker's wife did not know what to think of all this. His stories of

his childhood agreed with her own recollections; but when he told her

that he had been a squirrel for seven years, she exclaimed: "It is

impossible! and there are no witches." And when she looked at him, she

shuddered at the sight of the ugly dwarf, and did not believe he could

be her son. Finally, she considered it best to lay the matter before

her husband. So she collected her baskets and called the dwarf to go

with her. On reaching the shoemaker's stall, she said:

"Look here; this person claims to be our lost son, Jacob. He has told

me all how he was stolen from us seven years ago, and how he was

bewitched by an old hag."

"Indeed!" interrupted the shoemaker, angrily. "Did he tell you that?

Wait, you good-for nothing! I told him all this myself, not an hour

ago, and now he runs over to jest with you! Enchanted are you, sonny?

I will disenchant you again!" With this he picked up a bundle of thongs

that he had just cut out, sprang at the dwarf, and lashed him on his

back and arms till the dwarf cried out with pain and ran off weeping.

In that city, as in every other, there were but few pitying souls who

would assist a poor unfortunate about whom there was any thing

ridiculous. Therefore it was that the unfortunate dwarf remained the

whole day without food or drink, and at evening was forced to choose

the steps of a church for his couch, cold and hard as they were.

But when the rising sun awaked him, he began to think seriously of how

he should support himself, now that his parents had cast him off. He

was too proud to serve as a sign for a barber's shop; he would not

travel round as a mountebank and exhibit himself for money. What should

he do? It now occurred to him that as a squirrel he had made great

progress in the art of cookery; he believed, not without reason, that

he could hold his own with most cooks; and so he resolved to make use

of his knowledge.

As soon as the streets began to show signs of life, and the morning

was fairly advanced, he entered the church and offered up a prayer.

Then he started on his way. The duke, the ruler of the country, was a

well-known glutton and high-liver, who loved a good table, and selected

his cooks from all parts of the world. To his palace the dwarf betook

himself. When he came to the outer gate, the guards asked him what he

wanted, and had a little sport with him. He asked to see the master of

the kitchen. They laughed, and led him through the court, and at every

step servants stopped to look after him, laughed loudly, and fell in

behind him, so that by and by a monster procession of servants of all

degrees crowded the steps of the palace. The stable-boys threw away

their curry-combs, the messengers ran, the carpet-beaters forgot to

dust their carpets, everybody pushed and crowded, and there was as much

noise and confusion as if the enemy had been before the gates; and the

shout--"A dwarf! a dwarf! Have you seen the dwarf!"--filled the air.

The steward of the palace now appeared at the door, with a stern face,

and a large whip in his hand. "For heaven's sake, you dogs, why do you

make such a noise? Don't you know that the duke still sleeps?" and

thereupon he raised the lash and let it fall on the backs of some

stable-boys and guards.

"Oh, master!" cried they, "don't you see any thing? We bring here a

dwarf--a dwarf such as you have never seen before." The steward was

able to control his laughter only with great difficulty, when he saw

the dwarf. But it would not do to compromise his dignity by a laugh, so

he drove away the crowd with his whip, led the dwarf into the palace,

and asked him what he wanted. When he heard that Jacob wanted to see

the master of the kitchen, he replied:

"You are mistaken, sonny; it is me, the steward of the palace, whom you

wish to see. You would like to become body-dwarf to the duke. Isn't

that so?"

"No, master," answered the dwarf; "I am a clever cook, and experienced

in all kinds of rare dishes; if you will take me to the master of the

kitchen perhaps he can make use of my services."

"Every one to his own way, little man; but you are certainly an

ill-advised youth. In the kitchen! Why, as body-dwarf you would have no

work to do, and food and drink to your heart's desire, and fine

clothes. Still, we will see. Your art will hardly be up to the standard

of a cook for the duke, and you are too good for a scullion." With

these words the steward took him by the hand and led him to the rooms

of the master of the kitchen.

"Gracious master!" said the dwarf, bowing so low that his hands rested

on the floor, "have you no use for a clever cook?"

[Illustration]

The master of the kitchen looked him over from head to foot, and burst

into a loud laugh, "What? You a cook? Do you think that our hearths are

so low that you can see the top of one by standing on your toes and

lifting your head out of your shoulders? Oh dear, little fellow!

Whoever sent you to me for employment as a cook has made a fool of

you." So spoke the master of the kitchen, laughing loudly; and the

steward and all the servants in the room joined in the laugh.

But the dwarf did not allow himself to be disconcerted. "An egg or two,

a little syrup and wine, and meal and spices, can be spared in a house

where there is such plenty," said he. "Give me some kind of a dainty

dish to prepare, furnish me with what I need, and it shall be made

quickly before your eyes, and you will have to confess that I am a cook

by rule and right."

While the dwarf spoke, it was wonderful to see how his little eyes

sparkled, how his long nose swayed from side to side, and his long

spider-like fingers gesticulated in unison with his speech. "Come on!"

cried the master of the kitchen, taking the arm of the steward. "Come

on; just for a joke, let's go down to the kitchen!" They went through

many passages, and at last reached the kitchen, which was a high roomy

building splendidly fitted up. On twenty hearths burned a steady fire;

a stream of clear water, in which fish were darting about, flowed

through the middle of the room; the utensils for immediate use were

kept in closets made of marble and costly woods, and to the right and

left were ten rooms in which were preserved every thing costly and rare

for the palate that could be found in the entire country of the Franks

and even in the Levant. Kitchen servants, of all degrees, were running

about, rattling kettles and pans, and with forks and ladles in their

hands; but when the master of the kitchen entered, they all stopped and

remained so still that one heard only the crackling of the fires and

the splashing of the stream.

"What has His Grace ordered for breakfast this morning?" inquired the

master of the kitchen of the breakfast-cook.

"Sir, he has been pleased to order Danish soup and red Hamburg

dumplings."

"Very well," said the master of the kitchen. "Did you hear, little man,

what His Grace will have to eat? Do you feel capable of preparing these

difficult dishes? In any event, you will not be able to make the

dumplings, for that is a secret."

"Nothing easier," replied the dwarf, to the astonishment of his

hearers; for when a squirrel he had often made these dishes. "Nothing

easier; for the soup, I shall require this and that vegetable, this and

that spice, the fat of a wild boar, turnip, and eggs; but for the

dumpling," continued he, in a voice so low that only the master of the

kitchen and the breakfast-cook could hear, "for the dumpling, I shall

use four different kinds of meat, a little wine, the oil of a duck,

ginger, and a certain vegetable called 'stomach's joy.'"

"Ha! By St. Benedict! What magician learned you this?" cried the cook,

in astonishment. "He has given the receipt to a hair, and the

'stomach's joy' we did not know of ourselves. Yes, that would improve

the flavor, no doubt. O you miracle of a cook!"

"I would not have believed it," said the master of the kitchen; "but

let him make the experiment; give him what things he wants, and let him

prepare the breakfast."

These commands were carried out, and every thing was laid out near the

hearth, when it was discovered that the dwarf's nose barely came up to

the fire-place. Therefore a couple of chairs were placed together, and

upon them a marble slab was laid, and the little magician was then

invited to try his skill. The cooks, scullions, servants, and various

other people, formed a large circle around him, and looked on in

astonishment to see how dexterous were his manipulations and how neatly

his preparations were conducted. When he was through, he ordered both

dishes to be placed on the fire, and to allow them to cook to the exact

moment when he should call out. Then he began to count _one_, _two_,

_three_, and so on, until he reached five hundred, when he sang out:

"Stop!" The pots were then set to one side, and the dwarf invited the

master of the kitchen to taste of their contents. The head cook took a

gold spoon from one of the scullions, dipped it in the brook, and

handed it to the master of the kitchen, who stepped up to the hearth

with a solemn air, dipped his spoon into the food, tasted it, closed

his eyes, smacked his lips, and said: "By the life of the duke, it's

superb! Won't you take a spoonful, steward?" The steward bowed, took

the spoon, tasted, and was beside himself with pleasure. "With all

respect for your art, dear head cook, you have had experience, but have

never made either soup or Hamburg dumpling that could equal this!" The

cook now took a taste, shook the dwarf most respectfully by the hand,

and said: "Little One! you are a master of the art; really, that

'stomach's joy' makes it perfect."

[Illustration]

At this moment the duke's valet came into the kitchen and announced

that his grace was ready for his breakfast. The food was now placed on

silver plates and sent in to the duke; the master of the kitchen taking

the dwarf to his own room, where he entertained him. But they had not

been there long enough to say a pater-noster, (such is the name of the

Franks' prayer, O Sire, and it does not take half as long to say it as

to speak the prayer of the Faithful,) when there came a message from

the duke requesting the presence of the master of the kitchen. He

dressed himself quickly in his court costume, and followed the

messenger. The duke appeared to be in fine spirits. He had eaten all

there was on the silver plates, and was wiping his beard as the master

of the kitchen entered. "Hear me, master of the kitchen," said he, "I

have always been very well pleased with your cooks up to the present

time; now tell me who it was that prepared my breakfast this morning?

It was never so delicious since I sat on the throne of my ancestors;

tell me the cook's name that I may send him a present of a few ducats."

"Sire, it is a strange story," replied the master of the kitchen; and

went on to tell the duke how a dwarf had been brought to him that

morning who wished a place as cook, and what had occurred afterwards.

The duke was greatly astonished. He had the dwarf called, and asked him

who he was, and where he came from. Now poor Jacob certainly could not

say that he had been enchanted, and had once taken service as a

squirrel; still he kept to the truth by saying that he had now neither

father nor mother, and had learned how to cook from an old woman. The

duke did not question him further, but examined the singular shape of

his new cook. "If you will remain in my service," said the duke, "I

will give you fifty ducats a year, a holiday suit, and two pair of

trowsers besides. You will be expected to prepare my breakfast every

morning with your own hands; must direct the preparation of dinner, and

have a general oversight of my kitchen. As I am in the habit of naming

all the people in my palace, you shall take the name of Nosey, and hold

the office of assistant master of the kitchen."

The dwarf, Nosey, prostrated himself before the mighty duke of the

Franks, kissed his feet, and promised to serve him faithfully.

Thus was the dwarf provided for. And he did his office honor; for it

can be said that the duke was quite another man while the dwarf

remained in his service. Formerly he had been wont to express his

displeasure by throwing the dishes, that were taken in to him, at the

heads of the cooks; in fact, once in his anger, he had thrown a roasted

calf's foot, that was not tender enough, at the master of the kitchen,

and it hit him on the forehead and disabled him for three days. To be

sure, the duke made amends for his anger afterwards by distributing

handfuls of ducats among his victims; but nevertheless the cooks never

took his meals in to him without fear and trembling. Since the dwarf's

arrival, however, there was a magical change. Instead of three meals a

day, the duke now indulged in five, in order to do justice to the skill

of the assistant master of the kitchen; and he never betrayed the least

appearance of dissatisfaction. On the contrary, he found every thing

new and rare, was sociable and pleasant, and grew fleshier and happier

from day to day. He would often send for the master of the kitchen and

the dwarf Nosey, in the middle of the meal, and giving them seats on

either side of himself, would feed them the choicest morsels with his

own fingers; a favor that they both knew how to prize.

The dwarf became the wonder of the city. Permission was constantly

sought of the master of the kitchen to see him cook, and a few

gentlemen of the highest rank were able to induce the duke to let their

cooks take lessons from Nosey, and this brought the dwarf in quite a

sum of money, as each pupil had to pay half a ducat daily. And in order

to keep the good will of the other cooks, and prevent them from

becoming jealous, Nosey distributed this money among them.

Thus lived Nosey, in exceptional comfort and honor, for nearly two

years; and only when he thought of his parents did he feel sorrowful.

One day, however, a curious incident occurred.

Nosey was especially fortunate in his purchases. For this reason he was

in the habit of going to market himself for fowls and fruits, whenever

his duties would permit. One morning he went to the goose-market to

look for some heavy fat geese, such as his master loved. His form, far

from arousing jokes and laughter, commanded respect, for he was known

to be the famous chief cook of the duke, and every woman who had geese

to sell was happy if he turned his nose towards her. At the further end

of a row of stalls, he saw a woman sitting in a corner, who had also

geese to sell, but, unlike the other market-women, she did not cry her

wares or attempt to attract buyers. To her he went and weighed her

geese. They were just what he wanted, and he bought three, together

with the cage, shouldered his burden, and started on his way home. It

occurred to him as a very strange thing that only two of these geese

cackled, as genuine geese are accustomed to do, while the third one sat

quite still and reserved, occasionally sighing and sneezing like a

human being. "It must be half-sick," said he, as he went along. "I must

hurry back so as to kill and dress it." But, to his astonishment, the

goose replied, quite plainly:

"If you stick me,

I will bite ye;

If my neck you do not save,

You will fill an early grave."

Terribly frightened. Nosey sat the cage down, and the goose looked at

him with beautiful intelligent eyes, and sighed. "Good gracious!"

exclaimed the dwarf. "Can you speak. Miss Goose? I would not have

thought it! Well, now, don't be anxious; one knows how to live without

having any designs on such a rare bird. But I would be willing to bet

that you have not always had these feathers. I was myself once a

contemptible little squirrel."

"You are right," replied the goose, "in saying that I was not born with

this ignominious form. Alas! it was never sung to me in my cradle that

Mimi, daughter of the great Wetterbock, would meet her death in the

kitchen of a duke!"

"Do not be uneasy, dear Miss Mimi," said the dwarf cheerfully. "On my

word of honor, and as sure as I am the assistant master of the kitchen

of His Grace, no one shall harm you. I will fix you up a coop in my own

room, where you shall have plenty of food, and I will devote all my

leisure time to your entertainment. The other kitchen servants shall be

told that I am fattening a goose with different kinds of vegetables,

for the duke; and whenever an opportunity offers, I will set you at

liberty."

The goose thanked him with tears, and the dwarf did as he had promised.

Nor did he furnish her with common goose food, but with pastry and

sweetmeats, and whenever he was at liberty he paid her visits of

condolence. They told one another their histories, and in this way

Nosey learned that she was a daughter of the magician Wetterbock, who

lived on the island of Gothland, and who had begun a quarrel with an

old witch, who in turn had vanquished him by a clever stratagem, and

had then revenged herself upon him by transforming his daughter into a

goose, and bringing her thus far from home. When the dwarf had told her

his story, she said:

"I am not inexperienced in these matters. My father gave my sisters and

myself instructions in the art, as far as he thought best; your account

of the quarrel you had with the old woman over the market baskets, your

sudden transformation while inhaling the steam of that vegetable soup,

taken in connection with some expressions of the old woman that you

told me of, prove conclusively to me that you are bewitched by herbs;

that is to say, if you can find the plant that the old woman used in

your transformation, you can be restored to your former shape."

This announcement was not very consoling to the dwarf, for where was he

to find the plant? Still, he thanked the goose, and strove to be

hopeful.

About this time the duke received a visit from a neighboring prince who

was on friendly terms with him. He sent for the dwarf, and said to him:

"Now is the time when you will have to prove your devotion to me, and

your mastery of the art of cooking. The prince who visits me is

accustomed to the very best, as you know, and is an excellent judge of

fine cooking as well as a wise man. See to it, therefore, that my table

is provided daily with such dishes as will cause his wonder to increase

from day to day. And, on the penalty of my displeasure, you must not

make the same dish twice, during his stay here. My treasurer will

supply you with all the money you may want for this purpose. And even

though you be forced to cook gold and diamonds in lard, do it! I would

rather be ruined than put to the blush before him."

Thus spake the duke; and the dwarf replied with a low obeisance: "It

shall be as you say, my master; God willing, I will so provide that

this prince of epicures shall be satisfied."

The little cook put forth all his skill. He spared neither his master's

money nor himself. And he might be seen the livelong day in the midst

of clouds of smoke and flame, while his voice sounded constantly

through the kitchen, as he ordered the under-cooks and scullions about

like a prince. (Sire, I might imitate the camel-drivers of Aleppo, who,

in relating their stories to the travellers, make their heroes sit

down to the most sumptuous banquets. They will use a whole hour in

their description of the food with which the table is supplied, and

thereby create such ardent longings and uncontrollable hunger in

their hearers that the caravans are constantly halting for a meal, and

the camel-drivers come in for a full share of the provisions so

involuntarily opened. I say I might imitate them, but I will not.)

The duke's guest had now been fourteen days with him, and had been well

entertained. They ate not less than five times a day, and the duke was

contented with the skill of his dwarf, for he saw satisfaction on the

brow of his guest. But on the fifteenth day, it happened that the duke

sent for the dwarf while they sat at table, and presented him to his

guest, with the inquiry how the dwarf's cooking had pleased him.

"You are a marvelous cook," replied the prince, "and know what

constitutes good cheer. In all the time I have been here, you have not

given us the same dish twice, and every thing has been well prepared.

But tell me why it is you have let so long a time pass without

producing the queen of dishes, the Pastry Souzeraine?"

The dwarf was all of a tremble, for he had never heard of this queen of

pastries; but still he recovered himself, and replied: "O Sire! I had

hoped that the light of your countenance would be shed on this palace

for many days yet; therefore I delayed this dish; for what could be a

more appropriate compliment from the cook on the day of your departure,

than the queen of the pastries?"

"Indeed?" laughed the duke, "and were you waiting for the day of my

death, before you should compliment me in the same manner? For you have

never placed this pastry before me. But think of some other parting

dish: for you must set this pastry on the table to-morrow."

"It shall be as you say, master!" answered the dwarf, as he went out.

But he was very much disturbed in mind, for he knew that the day of his

disgrace and misfortune was at hand. He had not the slightest idea how

to make the pastry. He therefore went to his chamber and wept over his

hard fate. Just then the goose, Mimi, who had the run of his chamber,

came up to him and inquired the cause of his sorrow. "Cease to weep,"

said she, on learning of the incident of the pastry. "This _entree_ was

a favorite dish of my father's, and I know about how it is made. You

take this and that, so and so much, and if there should happen to be

any little thing left out, why, the gentlemen will never notice it."

The dwarf, on hearing Mimi's recipe, jumped for joy, blessed the day on

which he had bought the goose, and ran off to make the queen of the

pastries. He first made a small one by way of experiment, and lo, it

tasted finely, and the master of the kitchen, to whom he gave a morsel,

heartily praised his skill. On the following day, he baked the pastry

in a larger form, and after decorating it with a wreath of flowers,

sent it, hot from the oven, to the duke's table. He then donned

his best suit of clothes, and followed after it. As he entered the

dining-room, the head carver was in the act of cutting the pastry and

serving it up to the duke and his guest, with a silver pie-knife. The

duke took a large mouthful of the pastry, cast his eyes up at the

ceiling, and said as soon as he had swallowed it: "Ah! ah! ah! They are

right in calling this the queen of the pastries; but my dwarf is also

king of all cooks--isn't that so, dear friend?"

The prince helped himself to a small piece, tasted and examined it

attentively, and then, with a scornful smile, pushed the plate away

from him, exclaiming: "The thing is very cleverly made, but still it

isn't the genuine Souzeraine. I thought it would turn out that way."

The duke scowled, and reddening with mortification, cried: "Dog of a

dwarf! How dare you bring this disgrace on your master? Shall I have

your big head taken off as a penalty for your bad cookery?"

"Alas, master, I prepared the dish in accordance with all the rules of

art; there certainly can not any thing be wanting!" cried the dwarf

trembling.

"You lie, you knave!" exclaimed the duke, giving him a kick, "or my

guest would not say that some ingredient was wanting. I will have you

cut up in small pieces and made into a pastry yourself!"

"Have pity!" cried the dwarf, falling on his knees before the guest,

and clasping his feet. "Tell me what is wanting in this dish that it

does not suit your palate? Do not let me die on account of a handful of

meat and meal."

"That wouldn't help you much, dear Nosey," answered the prince,

laughing. "I felt pretty sure yesterday that you couldn't make this

dish as my cook does. Know, then, that there is an herb wanting, that

is not known at all in this country, called _Sneeze-with-pleasure_,

and, without this, the pastry is tasteless and your master will never

have it as good as mine."

The last words aroused the anger of the duke to the highest pitch. "And

yet I will have it!" exclaimed he, with flashing eyes. "For I swear on

my princely word, that I will either show you the pastry just as you

require it, or----the head of this fellow impaled on the gate of my

palace. Go, dog! Once more I grant you twenty-four hours' time."

The dwarf went back to his own room, and complained to the goose of his

fate, for as he had never heard of this plant, he must die. "Is that

all that is wanted?" said she. "I can help you in that case, for I

learned to know all vegetables from my father. At any other time you

might have been doomed; but fortunately now there is a full moon, and

at this time the plant blooms. But tell me, are there any old chestnut

trees in the vicinity of the palace?"

"Oh, yes," replied the dwarf, with a lighter heart; "by the lake, two

hundred steps from the house, there is a large group of them; but what

has that to do with it?"

"Well, at the foot of old chestnuts blooms this plant," replied Mimi.

"Therefore, let us lose no time in our search. Take me under your arm,

and set me down when we are in the garden, and I will assist you."

He did as she said, and went with her to the palace entrance. But there

he was stopped by the guard who extended his weapon, and said: "My good

Nosey, it's all up with you; I have received the strictest orders not

to let you out of the house."

[Illustration]

"But there can't be any objection to my going into the garden," urged

the dwarf. "Be so kind as to send one of your comrades to the steward,

and ask him whether I may not be allowed to look for vegetables in the

garden." The guard did as requested, and the dwarf received permission

to go into the garden, as it was surrounded by high walls and escape

was impossible. When Nosey was safely outside, he put the goose down

carefully, and she ran on before him to the lake where the chestnut

trees stood. He followed her closely, with beating heart, as his last

hope was centered on the success of their search, and if they did not

find the plant, he was fully resolved that he would throw himself into

the lake, rather than submit to being beheaded. The goose wandered

about under all the trees, turning aside every blade of grass with her

bill, but all in vain was her search, and she began to cry from pity

and anxiety, as the night was at hand, and it was difficult to

distinguish objects around her.

Just then the dwarf chanced to look across the lake and he shouted:

"Look, look! Across the lake stands an old chestnut tree; let us go

over there and search--perhaps we shall find my luck blooming there."

The goose took the lead, hopping and flying, and Nosey ran after as

fast as his little legs would carry him. The chestnut tree cast a large

shadow, so that nothing could be seen under its branches; but the goose

suddenly stopped, clapped her wings with joy, put her head down into

the long grass, and plucked something that she presented with her bill

to the astonished dwarf, saying: "That is the plant, and there are a

lot of them growing there, so that you will never lack for them."

The dwarf examined the plant thoughtfully; it had a sweet odor, that

reminded him involuntarily of the scene of his transformation. The

stems and leaves were of a bluish-green color, and it bore a brilliant

red flower with a yellowish border.

"God be praised!" exclaimed he at length. "How wonderful! Do you know

that I believe this is the very plant that changed me from a squirrel

to this hateful form? shall I make an experiment with it?"

"Not yet," replied the goose. "Take a handful of these plants with you

and let us go to your room; collect what money and other property you

have, and then we will try the virtue of this plant."

Taking some of the plants with them, they went back to his room, the

heart of the dwarf beating so that it might almost be heard. After

packing up his savings, some fifty or sixty ducats, and his shoes and

clothes in a bundle, he said: "God willing, I will now free myself of

this shape," stuck his nose deep down into the plant and inhaled its

fragrance.

Thereupon a stretching and cracking took place in all his limbs; he

felt his head being raised from his shoulders; he squinted down at his

nose and saw it getting smaller and smaller; his back and breast began

to straighten out, and his legs grew longer.

The goose looked on in astonishment. "Ha! how tall, how handsome you

are!" exclaimed she. "Thank God! nothing remains of your former shape?"

Jacob, greatly rejoiced, folded his hands and prayed. But in his joy he

did not forget how much he was indebted to the goose; he longed with

all his heart to go at once to his parents, but gratitude caused him to

forego this pleasure, and to say: "Whom but you have I to thank for my

restoration. Without you I should never have found this plant, and

should have forever remained a dwarf, or have died under the ax. Come,

I will take you to your father; he, who is so experienced in magic, can

easily disenchant you." The goose wept tears of joy, and accepted his

offer. Jacob walked safely out of the palace with the goose, without

being recognized, and started at once on his way to the coast to reach

Mimi's home.

What shall I say further? That they reached their journey's end safely;

that Wetterbock disenchanted his daughter, and sent Jacob, loaded down

with presents, back to his native city; and that his parents easily

recognized their son in the handsome young man; that he bought a shop

with the presents given him by Wetterbock; and that he became rich and

happy.

To this I will add, that after Jacob's escape from the palace, great

trouble ensued; for on the following day, as the duke was about to

carry out his threat of taking off the dwarf's head if he did not

succeed in finding the plant, that individual was nowhere to be found.

But the prince asserted that the duke had connived at his escape, so as

not to be compelled to kill his best cook; and the prince accused the

duke of breaking his word. From this a great war broke out between the

two rulers, which is known to history as "The Vegetable War." Many

battles were fought, but finally peace was restored, and this peace was

called "The Pastry Peace," inasmuch as at the peace banquet, the

Souzeraine, queen of the pastries, was prepared by the prince's cook,

and rejoiced the palate of his grace, the duke.

Thus do the most trivial causes often lead to great results; and this,

O Sire, is the story of the _Dwarf Nosey_.

Such was the story of the Frankish slave. When he had finished, Ali

Banu had fruits served to him and the other slaves, and conversed,

while they were eating, with his friends. The young men who had been

introduced into the room so stealthily, were loud in their praises of

the sheik, his house, and all his surroundings. "Really," said the

young writer, "there is no pleasanter way of passing the time than in

hearing stories. I could sit here the livelong day with my legs

crossed, and one arm resting on a cushion, with my head supported by my

hand, and, if allowable, the sheik's nargileh in my hand, and so

situated listen to stories with the greatest zest. Something like this,

I fancy, will be our existence in the Gardens of Mohammed."

"So long as you are young and able to work," replied the old man, who

had conducted the young men into the house, "you can not be in earnest

in such an idle wish. At the same time, I admit that there is a

peculiar charm about these narratives. Old as I am--and I am now in my

seventy-seventh year--and much as I have already heard in my life,

still I am not ashamed when I see a large crowd gathered round a

story-teller at the corner, to take my place there too and listen to

him. The listener dreams that he is an actor in the events that are

narrated; he lives for the time being amongst these people, among these

wonderful spirits, with fairies and other folk, whom one does not meet

every day; and has afterwards, when he is alone, the means of

entertaining himself, just as does the traveller through the desert,

who has provided well for his wants."

"I had never thought much about wherein the charm of these stories

lay," responded another of the young men. "But I agree with you. When I

was a child, I could always be quieted with a story. It mattered not,

at first, of what it treated, so long as it was told me, so long as it

was full of incidents and changes. How often have I, without

experiencing the slightest fatigue, listened to those fables which wise

men have devised, and in which they express a world of wisdom in a

sentence: stories of the fox and the foolish stork, of the fox and the

wolf, and dozens of stories of lions and other animals. As I grew

older, and associated more with men, those short stories failed to

satisfy me; I required longer ones, which treated too of people and

their wonderful fortunes."

"Yes, I recall that time very plainly," interrupted one of the last

speaker's friends. "It was you who created in us the desire for stories

of all kinds. One of your slaves knew as many as a camel-driver could

tell on the trip from Mecca to Medina. And when he was through with his

work, he had to sit down with us on the grassplot before the house, and

there we would tease until he began a story; and so it went on and on

until night overtook us."

"And was there not then disclosed to us a new, an undiscovered realm?"

said the young writer. "The land of genii and fairies, containing, too,

all the wonders of the vegetable kingdom, with palaces of emeralds and

rubies, inhabited by giant slaves, who appear when a ring was turned

around on the finger and back again, or by rubbing a magical lamp, and

brought splendid food in golden shells? We felt that we were

transported to that country; we made those marvelous voyages with

Sinbad, we accompanied Haroun-al-Raschid, the wise ruler of the

Faithful, on his evening walks, and we knew his vizier as well as we

knew each other; in short, we lived in those stories, as one lives in

his nightly dreams, and for us there was no part of the day so

enjoyable as the evening, when we gathered on the grass-plot, and the

old slave told us stories. But tell us, old man, why it is that this

craving for stories is as strong in us to-day as it was in our

childhood?"

The commotion that had arisen in the room, and the request of the

steward for silence, prevented the old man from replying. The young men

were uncertain whether they ought to rejoice at the prospect of hearing

another story, or to feel vexed that their entertaining conversation

with the old man had been broken off so suddenly. When silence had been

restored, a second slave arose and began his story.

ABNER, THE JEW,

WHO HAD SEEN NOTHING.

Sire, I am from Mogadore, on the coast of the Atlantic, and during the

time that the powerful Emperor Muley Ismael reigned over Fez and

Morocco, the following incident occurred, the recital of which may

perhaps amuse you. It is the story of Abner, the Jew, who had seen

nothing.

Jews, as you know, are to be found every-where, and every-where they

are Jews--sharp, with the eye of a hawk for the slightest advantage to

be gained; and the more they are oppressed the more do they exhibit the

craft on which they pride themselves. That a Jew may sometimes,

however, come to harm through an exhibition of his smartness, is

sufficiently shown by what befel Abner, one afternoon, as he took his

way through the gates of Morocco for a walk.

He strode along with a pointed hat on his head, his form enveloped in a

plain and not excessively clean mantle, taking from time to time a

stolen pinch from a gold box that he took special pains to conceal. He

stroked his mustaches, and in spite of the restless eyes that expressed

fear, watchfulness, and the desire to discover something that could be

turned to account, a certain satisfaction was apparent in his shifting

countenance, which plainly denoted he must have recently concluded some

very good bargains. He was doctor, merchant, and every thing else that

brought in money. He had this day sold a slave with a secret defect,

had bought a camel-load of gum very cheap, and had prepared the last

dose for a wealthy patient--not the last before his recovery, but the

last before his death.

He had just emerged from a small thicket of palm and date trees, when

he heard the shouts of a number of people running after him. They were

a crowd of the emperor's grooms, headed by the master of the horse,

looking about them on all sides as they ran, as if in search of

something.

[Illustration]

"Philistine!" panted the master of the horse. "Have you not seen one of

the emperor's horses, with saddle and bridle on, run by?"

"The best racer to be seen anywhere--a small neat hoof, shoes of

fourteen carat silver, a golden mane, fifteen hands high, a tail three

and a half feet long, and the bit of his bridle of twenty-three carat

gold?"

"That's he!" cried the master of the horse. "That's he!" echoed the

grooms. "It is Emir," said an old riding-master. "I have warned the

Prince Abdallah not to ride Emir without a snaffle. I know Emir, and

said beforehand he would throw the prince, and though his bruises

should cost me my head, I warned him beforehand. But quick! which way

did he go?"

"I haven't seen a horse at all!" returned Abner, smiling. "How then can

I tell you where the emperor's horse ran?"

Astonished at this contradiction, the gentlemen of the royal stables

were about to press Abner further, when another event occurred, that

interfered with their purpose.

By one of those singular chances of which there are numerous examples,

the empress's lap-dog had turned up missing; and a number of black

slaves came running up, calling at the top of their voices: "Have you

seen the empress's lap-dog?"

"A small spaniel," said Abner, "that has recently had a litter, with

hanging ears, bushy tail, and lame in the right fore-leg?"

"That's she--her own self!" chorused the slaves. "That's Aline; the

empress went into fits as soon as her pet was missed. Aline, where are

you? What would become of us if we were to return to the harem without

you? Tell us quickly, where did you see her run to?"

"I have not seen any dog, and never knew that my empress--God preserve

her--owned a spaniel!"

The men from the stable and harem grew furious at Abner's insolence, as

they termed it, in making jests over the loss of imperial property; and

did not doubt for a moment that Abner had stolen both dog and horse.

While the others continued the search, the master of the horse and the

chief eunuch seized the Jew, and hurried him, with his half-sly and

half-terrified expression, before the presence of the emperor.

Muley Ismael, as soon as he heard the charge against Abner, sent for

his privy-counsellor, and, in view of the importance of the subject,

presided over the investigation himself. To begin with, fifty lashes on

the soles of the feet were awarded the accused. Abner might whine or

shriek, protest his innocence or promise to tell every thing just as it

had happened, recite passages from the Scripture or from the Talmud; he

might cry: "The displeasure of the king is like the roar of a young

lion, but his mercy is like dew on the grass," or "Let not thy hand

strike when thy eyes and ears are closed." Muley Ismael made a sign to

his slaves, and swore by the beard of the Prophet, and his own, that

the Philistine should pay with his head for the pains of the Prince

Abdallah and the convulsions of the empress, if the runaways were not

restored.

The palace of the emperor was still resounding with the shrieks of the

Jew, as the news was brought that both dog and horse had been found.

Aline was surprised in the company of some pug dogs, quite respectable

curs, but not fit associates for a court lady; while Emir, after tiring

himself out with running, had found the fragrant grass on the green

meadows by the Tara brook suited his taste better than the imperial

oats--like the wearied royal huntsman who, having lost his way on the

chase, forgot all the delicacies of his own table as he ate the black

bread and butter in a peasant's hut.

Muley Ismael now requested of Abner an explanation of his behavior, and

the Jew saw that the time had come, although somewhat late, when he

could answer; which, after prostrating himself three times before his

highness's throne, he proceeded to do in the following words:

"Most high and mighty Emperor, King of Kings, Sovereign of the West,

Star of Justice, Mirror of Truth, Abyss of Wisdom, you who gleam like

gold, sparkle like a diamond, and are as inflexible as iron! Hear me,

as it is permitted your slave to lift his voice in your august

presence. I swear by the God of my fathers, by Moses and the Prophets,

that I never saw your sacred horse, and the amiable dog of my gracious

empress, with the eyes of my body. But listen to my explanation.

"I walked out to refresh myself after the fatigues of the day, and in

the small wood where I had the honor to meet his excellency, the master

of the horse, and his vigilancy, the black overseer of your blessed

harem, I perceived the trail of an animal in the fine sand between the

palms. As I am well acquainted with the tracks of various animals, I at

once recognized these as the footprints of a small dog; other traces

near the prints of the fore-paws where the sand seemed to be lightly

brushed away, assured me that the animal must have had beautiful

pendant ears; and as I noticed how, at long intervals, the sand was

brushed up, I thought: the little creature has a fine bushy tail that

must look something like a tuft of feathers, and it has pleased her now

and then to whip up the sand with it. Nor did it escape my observation

that one paw had not made as deep an imprint on the sand as the others;

unfortunately, therefore, it could not be concealed from me that the

dog of my most gracious empress--if it is permitted me to say it

aloud--limped a little.

"Concerning your highness's horse, I would say that on turning into a

path in the wood I came upon the tracks of a horse. I had no sooner

caught sight of the small noble hoof-print of the fine yet strong frog

of the foot, than I said in my heart; a horse of the Tschenner stock,

of which this must have been one of the noblest specimens, has passed

by here. It is not quite four months since my most gracious emperor

sold a pair of this breed to a prince in the land of the Franks, and my

brother Ruder was there when they agreed on the price, and my most

gracious emperor made so and so much by the transaction. When I saw how

far apart these hoof-prints were, and how regular were the distances

between them, I thought: that horse galloped beautifully and gently and

could only be owned by my emperor; and I thought of the war horse

described by Job--'He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his

strength; he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is

not affrighted: neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver

rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield.' And as I

saw something glistening on the ground, I stooped down, as I always do

in such cases, and lo, it was a marble stone in which the hoof of the

running horse had cut a groove, from which I perceived that the shoe

must have been of fourteen carat silver, as I have learned the mark

each metal makes, be it pure or alloyed. The path in which I walked was

seven feet wide, and here and there I noticed that the dust had been

brushed from the palms; the horse switched it off with his tail,

thought I, which must therefore be three and a half feet long. Under

trees that began to branch about five feet from the ground, I saw

freshly-fallen leaves, that must have been knocked off by the horse in

his swift flight; hence he was fully fifteen hands high; and behold,

under the same trees were small tufts of hair of a golden lustre, hence

his hide would have been a yellow-dun! Just as I emerged from the

copse, my eye was caught by a deep scratch on a wall of rock. I ought

to know what caused this, thought I, and what do you think it was? I

put a touch-stone, dusted over, on the scratch, and got an impression

of some fine hairlines such as for fineness and precision could not be

excelled in the seven provinces of Holland. The scratch must have been

caused by the stem of the horse's bit grazing the rock, as he ran close

by it. Your love of splendor is well-known. King of Kings; and one

should know that the most common of your horses would be ashamed to

champ any thing less fine than a golden bit. Such was the result of my

observations, and if----"

"Well, by the cities of the Prophet!" cried Muley Ismael, "I call that

a pair of eyes! Such eyes would not harm you, master of the huntsmen;

they would save you the expense of a pack of hounds; you, minister of

the police, could see further than all your bailiffs and spies. Well,

Philistine, in view of your uncommon acuteness, that has pleased us so

well, we will show you clemency; the fifty lashes that you justly

received are worth fifty zecchini, as they will save you fifty more; so

draw your purse and count out fifty in cash, and refrain in the future

from joking over our imperial property; as for the rest, you have our

royal pardon."