"How did you get it?" said they.
"I got it for a piece of advice," said Babo.
For a piece of advice! No, no--the king"s officers knew b.u.t.ter from lard, and truth from t"other thing. It was just the same in that country as it is in our town--there was nothing in the world so cheap as advice.
Whoever heard of anybody giving a pot of gold and silver money for it?
Without another word they marched Babo and his pot of money off to the king.
"Come," said the king, "tell me truly; where did you get the pot of money?"
Poor Babo began to whimper. "I got it for a piece of advice," said he.
"Really and truly?" said the king.
"Yes," said Babo; "really and truly."
"Humph!" said the king. "I should like to have advice that is worth as much as that. Now, how much will you sell your advice to me for?"
"How much will you give?" said Babo.
"Well," said the king, "let me have it for a day on trial, and at the end of that time I will pay you what it is worth."
"Very well," said Babo, "that is a bargain;" and so he lent the king his piece of advice for one day on trial.
Now the chief councillor and some others had laid a plot against the king"s life, and that morning it had been settled that when the barber shaved him he was to cut his throat with a razor. So after the barber had lathered his face he began to whet the razor, and to whet the razor.
Just at that moment the king remembered Babo"s piece of advice. "Think well!" said he; "think well! Before you do what you are about to do, think well!"
When the barber heard the words that the king said, he thought that all had been discovered. Down he fell upon his knees, and confessed everything.
That is how Babo"s advice saved the king"s life--you can guess whether the king thought it was worth much or little. When Babo came the next morning the king gave him ten chests full of money, and that made the simpleton richer than anybody in all that land.
He built himself a fine house, and by-and-by married the daughter of the new councillor that came after the other one"s head had been chopped off for conspiring against the king"s life. Besides that, he came and went about the king"s castle as he pleased, and the king made much of him.
Everybody bowed to him, and all were glad to stop and chat awhile with him when they met him in the street.
One morning Babo looked out of the window, and who should he see come travelling along the road but Simon Agricola himself, and he was just as poor and dusty and travel-stained as ever.
"Come in, come in!" said Babo; and you can guess how the wise man stared when he saw the simpleton living in such a fine way. But he opened his eyes wider than ever when he heard that all these good things came from the piece of advice he had given Babo that day they had parted at the cross roads.
"Aye, aye!" said he, "the luck is with you for sure and certain. But if you will pay me a thousand golden angels, I will give you something better than a piece of advice. I will teach you all the magic that is to be learned from the books."
"No," said Babo, "I am satisfied with the advice."
"Very well," said Simon Agricola, "Born a fool, live a fool, die a fool";" and off he went in a huff.
That is all of this tale except the tip end of it, and that I will give you now.
I have heard tell that one day the king dropped in the street the piece of advice that he had bought from Babo, and that before he found it again it had been trampled into the mud and dirt. I cannot say for certain that this is the truth, but it must have been spoiled in some way or other, for I have never heard of anybody in these days who would give even so much as a bad penny for it; and yet it is worth just as much now as it was when Babo sold it to the king.
I had sat listening to these jolly folk for all this time, and I had not heard old Sindbad say a word, and yet I knew very well he was full of a story, for every now and then I could see his lips move, and he would smile, and anon he would stroke his long white beard and smile again.
Everybody clapped their hands and rattled their canicans after the Blacksmith had ended his story, and methought they liked it better than almost anything that had been told. Then there was a pause, and everybody was still, and as n.o.body else spoke I myself ventured to break the silence. "I would like," said I (and my voice sounded thin in my own ears, as one"s voice always does sound in Twilight Land), "I would like to hear our friend Sindbad the Sailor tell a story. Methinks one is fermenting in his mind."
Old Sindbad smiled until his cheeks crinkled into wrinkles.
"Aye," said every one, "will you not tell a story?"
"To be sure I will," said Sindbad. "I will tell you a good story," said he, "and it is about--"
The Enchanted Island.
But it is not always the lucky one that carries away the plums; sometimes he only shakes the tree, and the wise man pockets the fruit.
Once upon a long, long time ago, and in a country far, far away, there lived two men in the same town and both were named Selim; one was Selim the Baker and one was Selim the Fisherman.
Selim the Baker was well off in the world, but Selim the Fisherman was only so-so. Selim the Baker always had plenty to eat and a warm corner in cold weather, but many and many a time Selim the Fisherman"s stomach went empty and his teeth went chattering.
Once it happened that for time after time Selim the Fisherman caught nothing but bad luck in his nets, and not so much as a single sprat, and he was very hungry. "Come," said he to himself, "those who have some should surely give to those who have none," and so he went to Selim the Baker. "Let me have a loaf of bread," said he, "and I will pay you for it tomorrow."
"Very well," said Selim the Baker; "I will let you have a loaf of bread, if you will give me all that you catch in your nets to-morrow."
"So be it," said Selim the Fisherman, for need drives one to hard bargains sometimes; and therewith he got his loaf of bread.
So the next day Selim the Fisherman fished and fished and fished and fished, and still he caught no more than the day before; until just at sunset he cast his net for the last time for the day, and, lo and behold! There was something heavy in it. So he dragged it ash.o.r.e, and what should it be but a leaden box, sealed as tight as wax, and covered with all manner of strange letters and figures. "Here," said he, "is something to pay for my bread of yesterday, at any rate;" and as he was an honest man, off he marched with it to Selim the Baker.
They opened the box in the baker"s shop, and within they found two rolls of yellow linen. In each of the rolls of linen was another little leaden box: in one was a finger-ring of gold set with a red stone, in the other was a finger-ring of iron set with nothing at all.
That was all the box held; nevertheless, that was the greatest catch that ever any fisherman made in the world; for, though Selim the one or Selim the other knew no more of the matter than the cat under the stove, the gold ring was the Ring of Luck and the iron ring was the Ring of Wisdom.
Inside of the gold ring were carved these letters: "Whosoever wears me, shall have that which all men seek--for so it is with good-luck in this world."
Inside of the iron ring were written these words: "Whosoever wears me, shall have that which few men care for--and that is the way it is with wisdom in our town."
"Well," said Selim the Baker, and he slipped the gold ring of good-luck on his finger, "I have driven a good bargain, and you have paid for your loaf of bread."
"But what will you do with the other ring?" said Selim the Fisherman.
"Oh, you may have that," said Selim the Baker.
Well, that evening, as Selim the Baker sat in front of his shop in the twilight smoking a pipe of tobacco, the ring he wore began to work. Up came a little old man with a white beard, and he was dressed all in gray from top to toe, and he wore a black velvet cap, and he carried a long staff in his hand. He stopped in front of Selim the Baker, and stood looking at him a long, long time. At last--"Is your name Selim?" said he.
"Yes," said Selim the Baker, "it is."
"And do you wear a gold ring with a red stone on your finger?"
"Yes," said Selim, "I do."