patiently. He reminded her of the day on which he had gone with the
old woman; he called to her mind all the particular incidents of his
childhood, told her then how he had served seven years as a squirrel
with the fairy, and how she had changed him because he had then
ridiculed her person.
The cobbler’s wife did not know what to think of all this. All that he
related of his childhood agreed with her own recollections, but when he
talked of serving seven years as a squirrel, she said, “It is
impossible; there are no fairies;” and when she looked at him she felt
a horror at the ugly dwarf, and would not believe that he could be her
son. At length she thought it would be best to talk the matter over
with her husband; therefore she took up her baskets and bade him go
with her.
On arriving at the cobbler’s stall she said: “Look, this fellow
pretends to be our lost James. He has told me all the circumstances,
how he was stolen from us seven years since, and how he was enchanted
by a fairy.”
“Indeed,” interrupted the cobbler in a rage, “has he told you this?
wait, you rogue!--I have told him all this an hour ago, and then he
goes to make a fool of you. Enchanted you have been, my little chap,
have you? Wait a bit, I will soon disenchant you!” So saying, he took
a bundle of straps that he had just cut, jumped up towards the dwarf,
and beat him on his humped back and his long arms, making the little
fellow scream with pain and run crying away.
Now in that town, as in others, there were but few of those
compassionate souls who will support a poor unfortunate with a
ridiculous appearance. Hence it was that the unlucky dwarf remained
all day without food, and was obliged in the evening to choose for his
night’s quarters the steps of a church, though they were hard and cold.
When on the following morning the first rays of the sun awoke him, he
began seriously to think how he should prolong his existence, now that
his father and mother had rejected him; he was too proud to serve as a
sign-board to a barber; he would not hire himself us a merry-andrew to
be exhibited; what then should he do? It now occurred to him that as a
squirrel he had made considerable progress in the culinary art, and
thought he might justly expect to prove a match for any cook; he
therefore resolved to turn his art to advantage.
As soon, therefore, as the morning had dawned, and the streets became
animated, he entered a church and performed his devotions; thence he
proceeded on his way. The duke (the sovereign of the country) was a
notorious _gourmand_, who kept a good table, and sought cooks in all
parts of the world. To his palace the dwarf went. When he arrived at
the outer gate the porter asked his errand, and began to crack his
jokes on him; when he asked for the chief cook they laughed and led him
through the inner courts, and wherever he went the servants stood
still, looked at him, laughed heartily, and followed him, so that in a
short time a great posse of menials of all descriptions crowded up the
steps of the palace. The grooms threw away their curry-combs, the
running footmen ran with all their might, the carpet-spreaders ceased
beating their carpets, all crowded and thronged around him, as if the
enemy was at the gates, and the shouts of “A dwarf, a dwarf! have you
seen the dwarf?” filled the air.
At this moment the steward of the palace, with a furious countenance
and a large whip in his hand, made his appearance at the door, crying,
“For Heaven’s sake, ye hounds, what is all this uproar for? Do you not
know that our gracious master is still asleep?” At the same time he
flourished his whip, laying it rather roughly about the backs of some
grooms and porters.
“Why sir,” they all cried, “don’t you see that we are bringing a dwarf,
such a dwarf as you never saw?” The steward suppressed, though with
difficulty, a loud laugh, when he got sight of the little man, for he
was afraid that laughter would derogate from his dignity. He therefore
drove them all away with his whip except the dwarf, whom he led into
the house and asked what he wanted. Hearing that the little man wished
to see the master of the kitchen, he replied, “You make a mistake, my
little son; I suppose you want to see me, the steward of the palace, do
you not? You wish to become dwarf to the duke, is it not so?”
“No, sir,” replied the dwarf, “I am a clever cook and skilled in the
preparation of all sorts of choice meats; be so kind as to bring me to
the master of the kitchen, perhaps he may be in want of my skill.”
“Every one according to his wish, my little man; but you are an
inconsiderate youth. To the kitchen! why, as the duke’s dwarf you
would have nothing to do and plenty to eat and drink to your heart’s
desire, and fine clothes into the bargain. But we shall see; your
skill in the culinary art will hardly be such as a cook to the duke is
required to possess, and you are too good for a scullion.” As he said
the last words he took the dwarf by the hand and conducted him to the
apartments of the master of the kitchen.
On arriving there the dwarf said, with so deep a bow that his nose
touched the floor, “Gracious, sir, are you in want of a skilful cook?”
The master of the kitchen, surveying him from top to toe, burst into a
loud fit of laughter, and said, “What, you a cook? Do you think that
our hearths are so low that you could even look on one, though you
should stand on tiptoe, and stretch your head ever so much out of your
shoulders? My good little fellow, whoever sent you here to hire
yourself as a cook, has been making a fool of you.” Thus saying, the
master cook laughed heartily, and was joined by the steward of the
palace and all the servants in the room.
But the dwarf was not to be discomposed by this. “Of what consequence
is it to waste a few eggs, a little syrup and wine, some flour and
spice, upon trial, in a house where there are plenty? Give me some
dainty dish to prepare,” said he, “procure all that is necessary for
it, and it shall be immediately prepared before your eyes, so that you
shall be constrained to avow that I am a first-rate cook.”
While the dwarf was saying all this, and many other things, it was
strange to see how his little eyes sparkled, how his long nose moved to
and fro, and his fingers, which were like spider’s legs, suited their
movements to his words.
“Well!” exclaimed the master cook, taking the steward by the arm,
“Well! be it so for the sake of the joke, let us go to the kitchen.”
They walked through several large rooms and corridors till they came to
the kitchen. This was a large spacious building magnificently fitted
up; on twenty hearths fires were constantly burning, clear water was
flowing through the midst, serving also as a fishpond; in cupboards of
marble and choice wood, the stores were piled, which it was necessary
to have at hand for use, and on either side were ten rooms, in which
were kept all the delicious dainties for the palate which can be
obtained in all the countries of Europe or even the East. Servants of
all descriptions were running to and fro, handling and rattling kettles
and pans, with forks and ladles; but when the master cook entered, all
stood motionless, and the crackling of the fire, and the rippling of
the brook were alone to be heard.
“What has the duke ordered for breakfast this morning?” he asked an old
cook, who always prepared the breakfast.
“Sir, his highness has pleased to order the Danish soup, with the small
red Hamburg dumplings.”
“Well,” continued the master cook, “did you hear what the duke wishes
to eat? Are you bold enough to attempt this difficult dish? At all
events the dumplings you will not be able to make, that is quite a
secret.”
“Nothing easier than that,” replied the dwarf, to their astonishment;
for he had often made this dish when he was a squirrel. “Nothing
easier, only give me the herbs, the spices, fat of a wild boar, roots
and eggs for the soup; but for the dumplings,” said he, in a low voice,
so that only the master cook and the breakfast-maker could hear, “for
the dumplings I want various meats, wine, duck’s fat, ginger, and the
herb called the stomach comforter.”
“Ah, by St. Benedict, to what enchanter have you been apprenticed?”
cried the cook in astonishment. “You have hit all to a hair, and as to
the noted herb, we did not know of that ourselves; yes! that must make
the dish still more delicious. Oh! you miracle of a cook!”
“I should never have thought this,” said the master cook, “but let us
make the trial, give him all he asks and let him prepare the breakfast.”
His orders were obeyed, and the necessary preparations were made on the
hearth; but they now found that the dwarf could not reach it. They
therefore put two chairs together, laid a slab of marble on them, and
asked the little wonder to step up and begin his skill. In a large
circle stood the cooks, scullions, servants, and others, looking at him
in amazement, to see how readily and quickly he proceeded, and how
cleanly and neatly he prepared every thing. When he had finished, he
ordered both dishes to be put to the fire, and to be boiled until he
should call out; then he began to count one, two, three, and so on up
to five hundred, when he cried out, “Stop, take them off,” and then
invited the head cook to taste them.
The taster ordered the scullion to bring him a gold spoon, which he
first rinsed in the brook, and then gave it to the head cook. The
latter, stepping up to the hearth with a grave mien, took a spoonful,
tasted it, and shutting his eyes, smacked his lips with delight,
saying, “Delicious! by the duke’s life, delicious! Would you not like
to taste a spoonful, Mr. Steward?” The latter, bowing, took the spoon,
tasted it, and was beside himself with delight.
“With all due respect to your skill, dear breakfast-maker, you aged and
experienced cook, you have never been able to make the soup or
dumplings so delicious.”
The cook also tasted it, shook the dwarf reverentially by the hand,
saying, “My little man, you are a master of your art, yes, that herb
‘stomach comforter’ imparts a peculiar charm to the whole.”
At this moment the duke’s valet entered the kitchen, and informed them
that the duke wished his breakfast. The preparations were now dished
up in silver, and sent up to the duke; but the head cook took the dwarf
to his own room to converse with him. They had scarcely sat down long
enough to say half a paternoster, when a messenger came and called the
head cook to the duke. He quickly put on his best clothes, and
followed the messenger.
The duke looked well pleased, He had eaten all they had served, and was
just wiping his beard as the master-cook entered. “Master,” said he,
“I have hitherto always been well satisfied with your cooks; but tell
me who prepared the breakfast this morning? It never was so delicious
since I sat on the throne of my fathers; tell me the name of the cook,
that I may send him a ducat as a present.”
“My lord, this is a strange story,” replied the master; and he told the
duke that a dwarf had been brought to him that morning, who earnestly
solicited the place of a cook, and how all had happened. The duke was
greatly astonished, ordered the dwarf to appear, and asked him who he
was, and whence he came. Now poor James did not exactly wish to say
that he had been enchanted, and had served as a squirrel. But yet he
adhered to truth, telling him that he now had neither father nor
mother, and had learned cooking of an old woman. Much amused by the
strange appearance of his new cook, the duke asked no more questions,
but said, “If you wish to remain here, I will give you fifty ducats
a-year, a suit of livery, and two pair of breeches beside. Your duty
shall be to prepare my breakfast; yourself every day to give directions
how the dinner shall be prepared, and to take the general
superintendence of the cooking. As each in my palace has his proper
name, you shall be called ‘Nose,’ and hold the office of
sub-master-cook.”
The dwarf prostrated himself before the mighty duke, kissed his feet,
and promised to serve him faithfully.
Thus the dwarf was for the present provided for, and did honour to his
office. And it must be remarked that the duke had become quite an
altered man since Nose the dwarf had been in the palace. Formerly, he
had often been pleased to throw the dishes and plates that were served
up at the heads of the cooks; indeed, he even once, in a fit of rage,
threw a fried calf’s foot that was not sufficiently tender, with such
violence at the head of the master-cook, that the latter fell to the
ground, and was compelled for three days to keep his bed. ’Tis true,
the duke made him amends for what he had done by some handfuls of
ducats, but still no cook ever came before him with his dishes, without
trembling and terror.
Ever since the dwarf had been in the palace, all seemed to be changed,
as if by magic. The duke, instead of three, had now five meals a day,
in order to relish properly the skill of his little servant, and yet
never showed the least sign of discontent. Indeed, he found all new
and excellent, was kind and pleasant, and became fatter daily.
He would often in the midst of a meal send for the master-cook and the
dwarf, set one on his right, and the other on the left hand, and put
with his own gracious fingers some morsels of the delicious viands into
their mouths; a favour which both knew how to appreciate fully. The
dwarf was the wonder of the whole town, and people requested the
permission of the master-cook to see him cook, while some of the
principal folks prevailed upon the duke to permit their servants to
profit by the instructions of the dwarf in his kitchen, by which he
obtained much money, for those who came to learn paid daily half a
ducat. In order, however, to keep the other cooks in good humour, and
prevent jealousy, Nose let them have the money that was paid by the
masters for instruction.
Thus Nose lived almost two years in great comfort and honour, the
thought of his parents alone saddening him, and nothing remarkable
occurring until the following circumstance happened. The dwarf being
particularly clever, and fortunate in his purchases, went himself, as
often as time permitted, to the market, to buy poultry and fruit. One
morning he went to the poultry-market, and walking up and down inquired
for fat geese such as his master liked. His appearance, far from
creating laughter and ridicule, commanded respect, since he was known
as the duke’s celebrated cook, and each poultry-woman felt herself
happy if he but turned his nose to her. At length coming to the end of
a row of stalls, he perceived in a corner, a woman with geese for sale,
who did not, like the others, praise her goods, nor call to the
customers.
He stepped up to her, examined the geese, weighed them in his hand, and
finding them to his liking, bought three, with the cage they were in,
put them on his shoulders and trotted home. It appeared singular to
him that only two of the geese cackled and cried like others, the third
being quite quiet and thoughtful, and occasionally groaning and moaning
like a human being.
“She is not well,” said he to himself, “I must hasten to get home and
dress her.” But the goose replied, distinctly,
“If thou stick’st me,
Why I’ll bite thee,
And if my neck thou twistest round.
Thou soon wilt lie below the ground.”
Quite startled, the dwarf put down the basket, and the goose, looking
at him with her fine intelligent eyes, sighed. “Why what have we
here?” cried Nose. “You can talk, Miss Goose. I never expected that.
Well, make yourself easy; I know the world and will not harm so rare a
bird. But I would wager something that you have not always been
covered with feathers. Indeed I was once a poor squirrel myself.”
“You are right,” replied the goose, “in saying I was not born with this
disgraceful disguise. Alas! it was never sung at my cradle that Mimi,
the great Wetterbock’s daughter, would be killed in the kitchen of a
duke.”
“Pray be easy, dear Miss Mimi,” said the dwarf, comforting her, “for as
sure as I am an honest fellow, and sub-master cook to his highness, no
one shall touch your throat. I will give you a stall in my own
apartments, you shall have enough food, and I will devote my leisure
time to converse with you. I’ll tell the others in the kitchen that I
am fattening a goose with various herbs for the duke, and at the first
opportunity you shall be set at liberty.”
The goose thanked him, with tears in her eyes, and the dwarf, as he had
promised, killed the other two geese, but built a stall for Mimi, under
the pretence of preserving her for some special occasion. Instead of
feeding her on grain he gave her pastry and sweetmeats. As often as he
had time he went to converse with her and comfort her. They related
their histories to each other, and Nose learnt that she was the
daughter of the enchanter, Wetterbock, who lived in the island of
Gothland. Being involved in a quarrel with an old fairy, her father
had been conquered by stratagems and cunning, and out of revenge the
fairy had changed her into a goose, and brought her to the town.
When the dwarf told his history, she said, “I am not inexperienced in
these matters, my father having given me and my sisters what
instruction he was allowed to impart. The story of the dispute at your
mother’s fruit stall, your sudden metamorphosis, when you smelled the
herb, as well as the words the old woman used, show me that you are
enchanted through herbs; that is to say, if you can find out the herb
of which the fairy thought when she bewitched you, you may be
disenchanted.” This was but poor consolation for the dwarf, for how
should he find the herb? Yet he thanked her and felt some hope.
About this time the duke had a visit from a neighbouring prince, his
friend. He, therefore, ordered the dwarf to appear, and said, “Now is
the time for you to show whether you serve me faithfully and are master
of your art. The prince, who is now visiting me, keeps, as is well
known, the best table after me. He is a great connoisseur in good
living, and a wise man. Let it now be your care to supply my table
every day so that his astonishment shall daily become greater. But you
must not, under pain of my displeasure, repeat the same dish during his
visits. You may ask of my treasurer all you want, and should it be
needful to fry gold and diamonds you must do it. I would rather become
poor than forfeit his good opinion of my taste.”
When the duke had concluded, the dwarf bowed most respectfully, saying,
“be it as you say, my lord; please God I shall do all to gratify the
palate of this prince of gourmands.”
The little cook now mustered all his skill. He did not spare his
master’s treasures, and still less did he spare himself. He was seen
all day at the fire, enveloped by clouds of smoke, and his voice
constantly resounded through the vaults of the kitchen, for he governed
the scullions and under cooks.
During a fortnight the foreign prince lived happily, and feasted
sumptuously with the duke. They ate not less than five times a day,
and the duke was delighted with his dwarf, seeing satisfaction
expressed on the countenance of his guest. But on the fifteenth day it
happened, that the duke, while at table, sent for the dwarf, presented
him to his guest, and asked how he was satisfied with his cooking?
“You are a wonderful cook,” replied the prince, “and know what good
living is. All the time I have been here you have not repeated a
single dish, and have prepared every thing exquisitely. But pray tell
me, why have you not all this time prepared that queen of dishes, the
pie called ‘souzeraine?’”
The dwarf was startled at this question, for he had never heard of this
queen of pies; however he recovered himself and replied, “My lord, I
was in hopes that your serene countenance would shine some time yet on
this court, therefore I deferred this dish; for with what dish but the
queen of pies should the cook honour the day of your departure?”
“Indeed!” said the duke, laughing; “I suppose then you wish to wait for
the day of my death to honour me, for you have never yet sent it up to
me. But think of another dish to celebrate the departure, for
to-morrow that pie must be on the table.”
“Your pleasure shall be done, my lord,” replied the dwarf, and retired.
But he went away uneasy, for the day of his disgrace and misfortune had
come. He did not know how to prepare this pie. He went therefore to
his chamber, and wept over his fate, when the goose Mimi, who was
allowed to walk about, came up and inquired the cause of his grief.
When she heard of the pie, “Dry your tears,” said she, “this dish came
often to my father’s table, and I know pretty well what is necessary
for it; you have only to take such and such things in certain
quantities, and should these not be all that are really necessary, I
trust that the taste of these gentlemen is not sufficiently refined to
discover the deficiency.”
At these words the dwarf danced with joy, blessed the day on which he
had purchased the goose, and set about making this queen of pies. He
first made a trial in miniature, and lo! the flavour was exquisite, and
the master-cook, to whom he gave the small pie to taste, praised once
more his great skill.
The following day he prepared the pie on a larger scale, and, after
having garnished it with flowers, sent it hot as it came from the oven
to table. After which he dressed in his best and went to the
dining-hall. On entering, he found the steward engaged in carving the
pie, and presenting it on silver dishes to the duke and his guest. The
duke swallowed a large piece, turned his eyes upward, saying “ha! ha!
ha! justly is this called the queen of pies; but my dwarf is also a
king of cooks. Is it not so, my friend?”
His guest took a small morsel, tasted it carefully, and smiled somewhat
scornfully and mysteriously.
“The thing is made pretty well,” replied he, pushing his plate away,
“but it is not quite the Souzeraine, as I well imagined.”
At this the duke frowned with indignation, and turned red, saying, “You
hound of a dwarf, how dare you do this to your lord? I will have your
big head cut off as a punishment for your bad cooking.”
“Ah, my lord,” said the dwarf trembling, “for Heaven’s sake have
compassion on me; I have made that dish, indeed, according to the
proper receipt, and am sure that nothing is wanting.”
“’Tis a lie, you knave,” replied the duke, giving him a kick, “’tis a
lie; else my guest would not say there was something wanting. I will
have you yourself cut up and baked in a pie.”
“Have compassion on me!” exclaimed the dwarf, shuffling on his knees up
to the prince, and clasping his feet; “tell me what is wanting to this
pie and why it does not suit your palate: let me not die for a handful
of meat or flour.”
“This will not avail you, my good Nose,” replied the prince,
laughing; “even yesterday I thought you would not be able to make
this dish as well as my cook. Know there is wanting a herb called
Sneeze-with-pleasure, which is not even known in this country. Without
it this pie is insipid, and your master will never eat it in such
perfection as I do.”
At this the duke flew into a rage, and cried with flashing eyes:
“I will eat it in perfection yet, for I swear by my princely honour,
that by to-morrow I will either have the pie set before you, such as
you desire it, or the head of this fellow shall be spiked on the gate
of my palace. Go, you hound, I give you once more twenty-four hours!”
cried the duke.
The dwarf again went to his chamber and mourned over his fate with the
goose that he must die, as he had never heard of this herb. “If it is
nothing more,” said she, “I can help you out of the difficulty, as my
father has taught me to know all herbs. At any other time your death,
no doubt would have been certain, and it is fortunate for you that we
have a new moon, as the herb is only then in flower. Now tell me, are
there any old chesnut trees in the neighbourhood of the palace?”
“Oh yes,” replied Nose, with a lighter heart, “near the lake, about two
hundred yards from the palace, there is a clump of them; but what of
them?”
“Why,” said Mimi, “the herb only flowers at the foot of them. Now let
us lose no time but go to fetch what you want; take me on your arm, and
put me down when we get out, that I may search for you.”
He did as she requested, and went towards the gate of the palace, but
here the porter levelled his gun and said: “My good Nose, it is all
over with you, you must not pass; I have strict orders respecting you.”