But Hans was no such simpleton as Claus; no, not he. Oh no, he would not take all that trouble for two poor pocketfuls of money. He would have a bagful; no, he would have _two_ bagfuls. So he slung two meal sacks over his shoulder, and off he started for the hill back of Herr Axel"s house.
When he came to the stone he knocked upon it, and it opened to him just as it had done for Claus. Down he went into the pit, and there sat the little old manikin, just as he had done from the very first.
"How do you find yourself, Hans?" said the little old manikin.
Oh, Hans found himself very well. Might he have some of the money that stood around the room in the sacks?
Yes, that he might; only remember to take the best away with him.
Prut! teach a dog to eat sausages. Hans would see that he took the best, trust him for that. So he filled the bags full of gold, and never touched the silver--for, surely, gold is better than anything else in the world, says Hans to himself. So, when he had filled his two bags with gold, and had shaken the pieces well down, he flung the one over one shoulder, and the other over the other, and then he had as much as he could carry. As for the staff of witch-hazel, he let it lie where it was, for he only had two hands and they were both full.
But Hans never got his two bags of gold away from the vault, for just as he was leaving--bang! came the stone together, and caught him as though he was a mouse in the door; and that was an end of him. That happened because he left the witch-hazel behind.
That was the way in which Claus came to lose his magic staff; but that did not matter much, for he had enough to live on and to spare. So he married the daughter of the Herr Baron (for he might marry whom he chose, now that he was rich), and after that he lived as happy as a fly on the warm chimney.
Now, _this_ is so--it is better to take a little away at a time and carry your staff with you, than to take all at once and leave it behind.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Venturesome Boldness. This ill.u.s.trated poem depicts the tailor with a wooden sword standing before the knight on horseback.]
VENTURESOME BOLDNESS
A tailor came a-walking by, The fire of courage in his eye.
"Where are you going Sir?" Said I.
"I slew a mouse In our house Where other tailors live," said he, "And not a Jack Among the pack Would dare to do the like; pardie!
Therefore, I"m going out to try If there be greater men that I; Or in the land As bold a hand At wielding brand as I, you see!"
The tailor came a-limping by With woful face and clothes awry And all his courage gone to pie.
"I met a knight In armor bright And bade him stand and draw," said he; "He straightaway did As he was bid, And treated me outrageously.
So I shall get me home again, And probably shall there remain.
A little man.
Sir, always can Be great with folk of less degree!"
H. Pyle
[Ill.u.s.tration: Superficial Culture. This is a full page ill.u.s.trated poem depicting: the dame in a chair with the pig sitting on the floor in front of her, the pig dancing in full dress, the pig in full dress bowing to a person, and the pig in full dress on bent knee before the lady he loved.]
SUPERFICIAL CULTURE
I"ll tell of a certain old dame; The same Had a beautiful piggy, whose name Was James; and whose beauty and worth, From the day of his birth, Were matters of popular fame, And his claim To gentility no one could blame.
So, seeing his promise, she thought She ought To have him sufficiently taught The art Of deportment, to go Into company; so A master of dancing she brought, Who was fraught With a style which the piggiwig caught.
So his company manners were rare.
His care Of social observances there Would bear The closest inspection, And not a reflection Could rest on his actions, howe"er You might care To examine "em down to a hair.
Now, things went beau-ti-ful-ly, Till he Fell in love with a dame of degree; Pardie!
When he tried for to speak, But could only say, "O w-e-e-k!"
For, whatever his polish might be, Why, dear me!
He was pig at the bottom, you see.
H. PYLE.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
HOW DAME MARGERY TWIST SAW MORE THAN WAS GOOD FOR HER
If one could always hold one"s tongue as to what one sees, one would be the better for it. They are the wise people of this world who keep silence as to what they see; many such there are who behold things such as neither you nor I may ever hope to look upon, and yet we know nothing of this because they say nothing of it, going their own ways like common folks, and as though they saw nothing in an egg but the meat.
Dame Margery Twist of Tavistock town was not one of these wise folks who hold their tongues; she was a good, gossiping, chattering old soul, whose hen never hatched a chick but all of the neighbors knew of it, as the saying goes. The poor old creature had only one eye; how she lost the other you shall presently hear, and also how her wonderful tulip garden became like anybody else"s tulip garden.
Dame Margery Twist lived all alone with a great tabby cat. She dwelt in a little cottage that stood back from the road, and just across the way from the butcher"s shop. All within was as neat and as bright as a new pin, so that it was a delight just to look upon the row of blue dishes upon the dresser, the pewter pipkins as bright as silver, or the sanded floor, as clean as your mother"s table. Over the cottage twined sweet woodbines, so that the air was ladened with their fragrance in the summer-time, when the busy, yellow-legged bees droned amid the blossoms from the two hives that stood along against the wall. But the wonder of the garden was the tulip bed, for there were no tulips in all England like them, and folks came from far and near, only to look upon them and to smell their fragrance. They stood in double rows, and were of all colors--white, yellow, red, purple, and pied. They bloomed early, and lasted later than any others, and, when they were in flower, all the air was filled with their perfume.
Now all of these things happened before the smoke of the factories and the rattling of the steam-cars had driven the fairy folks away from this world into No-man"s-land, and this was the secret of the dame"s fine tulip bed. For the fairies dwelt among the flowers, and she often told her gossips how that she could hear the fairy mothers singing their babies to sleep at night, when the moon was full and the evening was warm. She had never seen the little folks herself, for few folks are given to look upon them, and Dame Margery"s eyes were not of that nature. Nevertheless, she heard them, and that, in my opinion, is the next best thing to seeing them.
Dame Margery Twist, as I said, was a good, kind, comfortable old soul, and was, moreover, the best nurse in all of Tavistock town. Was any one ill, it was Dame Margery who was called upon to attend him; as for the dame herself, she was always ready to bring a sick body into good health again, and was always paid well for the nursing.
[Ill.u.s.tration: DAME TWIST DRINKETH TEA]
One evening the dame was drinking her tea by herself with great comfort.
It was just at the dusking of the twilight; the latticed window was opened, so that the little breezes came rushing into the room, or stayed a while to play wantonly with the white linen curtains. The tabby cat was purring in the door-way, and the dame was enjoying the sweetness of the summer-time. There came a knock at the door, "Who is it?" said Dame Margery.
"It"s Tommy Lamb, if you please, ma"am," said a little voice.
"Come in, Tommy," said the dame.
So in came Tommy Lamb, a little, curly-headed fellow, not any older than you, "What is it you want, Tommy?" said the dame.
"If you please, ma"am, there"s a little gentleman outside, no taller than I be; he gave me this box, and told me to tell you to rub your eyes with the salve and then to come out to him."
The dame looked out of the window, but never a body stood there that she could see. "Where is the gentleman, dearie?" said she.
"Yonder he is, with a great white horse standing beside him," said Tommy Lamb, and he pointed with his finger as he spoke.
The dame rubbed her eyes and looked again, but never a thing did she see but the green gate, the lilac-bushes, and the butcher"s shop opposite.
The truth of the matter is, that little children like you, my dear, see things which we grown folks, with the dust of the world in our eyes, may never behold. "Well," said Dame Margery to herself, "this is strange, for sure! _I_ see no little old gentleman in green." Then she opened the box that she held, and looked into it and saw that it was filled with a green salve. "I"ll rub some of it on my eyes, at any rate," said she; whereupon she did so. Then she looked again, and, lo and behold! there stood a little old man, no taller than Tommy Lamb. His face was as brown, and as withered, and as wrinkled as a winter"s crab-apple left on the bare tree when the frost is about. He was dressed all in green from top to toe, and on his head was a tall green cap, with a bell at the peak, which tinkled at every movement of his head. By his side stood a great, tall, milk-white horse, with a long tail and mane tied with party-colored ribbons.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LITTLE MAN AND THE GREAT HORSE]