Jacob Stuck in his finery
So Jacob Stuck rode up to the king’s palace, and the king himself came out to meet him with the princess hanging on his arm.
As for the princess, she knew him the moment she laid eyes on him. She came down the steps, and set the lock of hair against his head, where she had trimmed it off the night before, and it fitted and matched exactly. “This is the young man,” said she, “and I will marry him, and none other.”
But the prime-minister whispered and whispered in the king’s ear: “I tell you this young man is nobody at all,” said he, “but just some fellow who has had a little bit of good luck.”
“Pooh!” said the king, “stuff and nonsense! Just look at all the gold and jewels and horses and men. What will you do,” said he to Jacob Stuck, “if I let you marry the princess?”
“I will,” said Jacob Stuck, “build for her the finest palace that ever was seen in all this world.”
“Very well,” said the king, “yonder are those sand hills over there. You shall remove them and build your palace there. When it is finished you shall marry the princess.” For if he doesthat, thought the king to himself, it is something better than mere good luck.
“It shall,” said Jacob Stuck, “be done by to-morrow morning.”
Well, all that day Jacob Stuck feasted and made merry at the king’s palace, and the king wondered when he was going to begin to build his palace. But Jacob Stuck said nothing at all; he just feasted and drank and made merry. When night had come, however, it was all different. Away he went by himself, and blew his breath upon his piece of blue glass, and rubbed it with his thumb. Instantly there stood the Genie before him. “What wouldst thou have?” said he.
“I would like,” said Jacob Stuck, “to have the sand hills over yonder carried away, and a palace built there of white marble and gold and silver, such as the world never saw before. And let there be gardens planted there with flowering plants and trees, and let there be fountains and marble walks. And let there be servants and attendants in the palace of all sorts and kinds—men and women. And let there be a splendid feast spread for to-morrow morning, for then I am going to marry the princess.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie, and instantly he was gone.
All night there was from the sand hills a ceaseless sound as of thunder—a sound of banging and clapping and hammering and sawing and calling and shouting. All that night the sounds continued unceasingly, but at daybreak all was still, and when the sun arose there stood the most splendid palace it ever looked down upon; shining as white as snow, and blazing with gold and silver. All around it were gardens and fountains and orchards. A great highway had been built between it and the king’s palace, and all along the highway a carpet of cloth of gold had been spread for the princess to walk upon.
Dear! dear! how all the town stared with wonder when they saw such a splendid palace standing where the day before had been nothing but naked sand hills! The folk flocked in crowds to see it, and all the country about was alive with people coming and going. As for the king, he could not believe his eyes when he saw it. He stood with the princess and looked and looked. Then came Jacob Stuck. “And now,” said he, “am I to marry the princess?”
“Yes,” cried the king in admiration, “you are!”
So Jacob Stuck married the princess, and a splendid wedding it was. That was what a little bit of good luck did for him.
Jacob bows to the king and the princess
After the wedding was over, it was time to go home to the grand new palace. Then there came a great troop of horsemen with shining armor and with music, sent by the Genie to escort Jacob Stuck and the princess and the king and the prime-minister to Jacob Stuck’s new palace. They rode along over the carpet of gold, and such a fine sight was never seen in that land before. As they drew near to the palace a great crowd of servants, clad in silks and satins and jewels, came out to meet them, singing and dancing and playing on harps and lutes. The king and the princess thought that they must be dreaming.
“All this is yours,” said Jacob Stuck to the princess; and he was that fond of her, he would have given her still more if he could have thought of anything else.
Jacob Stuck and the princess, and the king and the prime-minister, all went into the palace, and there was a splendid feast spread in plates of pure gold and silver, and they all four sat down together.
But the prime-minister was as sour about it all as a crab-apple. All the time they were feasting he kept whispering and whispering in the king’s ear. “It is all stuff and nonsense,” said he,“for such a man as Jacob Stuck to do all this by himself. I tell you, it is all a piece of good luck, and not a bit of merit in it.”
He whispered and whispered, until at last the king up and spoke. “Tell me, Jacob Stuck,” he said, “where do you get all these fine things?”
“It all comes of a piece of good luck,” said Jacob Stuck.
“That is what I told you,” said the prime-minister.
“A piece of good luck!” said the king. “Where did you come across such a piece of good luck?”
“I found it,” said Jacob Stuck.
“Found it!” said the king; “and have you got it with you now?”
“Yes, I have,” said Jacob Stuck; “I always carry it about with me;” and he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought out his piece of blue crystal.
“That!” said the king. “Why, that is nothing but a piece of blue glass!”
“That,” said Jacob Stuck, “is just what I thought till I found out better. It is no common piece of glass, I can tell you. You just breathe upon it so, and rub your thumb upon it thus, and instantly a Genie dressed in red comes to do all that he is bidden. That is how it is.”
“I should like to see it,” said the king.
“So you shall,” said Jacob Stuck;“here it is,” said he; and he reached it across the table to the prime-minister to give it to the king.
Yes, that was what he did; he gave it to the prime-minister to give it to the king. The prime-minister had been listening to all that had been said, and he knew what he was about. He took what Jacob Stuck gave him, and he had never had such a piece of luck come to him before.
And did the prime-minister give it to the king, as Jacob Stuck had intended? Not a bit of it. No sooner had he got it safe in his hand, than he blew his breath upon it and rubbed it with his thumb.
Crack! dong! boom! crash!
There stood the Genie, like a flash and as red as fire. The princess screamed out and nearly fainted at the sight, and the poor king sat trembling like a rabbit.
“Whosoever possesses that piece of blue crystal,” said the Genie, in a terrible voice, “him must I obey. What are thy commands?”
“Take this king,” cried the prime-minister, “and take Jacob Stuck, and carry them both away into the farthest part of the desert whence the fellow came.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie; and instantly he seized the king in one hand and Jacob Stuck in the other, and flew away with themswifter than the wind. On and on he flew, and the earth seemed to slide away beneath them like a cloud. On and on he flew until he had come to the farthest part of the desert. There he sat them both down, and it was as pretty a pickle as ever the king or Jacob Stuck had been in, in all of their lives. Then the Genie flew back again whence he had come.
Jacob and the king in the farthest part of the desert
There sat the poor princess crying and crying, and there sat the prime-minister trying to comfort her. “Why do you cry?” said he; “why are you afraid of me? I will do you no harm. Listen,” said he; “I will use this piece of good luck in a way that Jacob Stuck would never have thought of. I will make myself king. I will, by means of it, summon a great army. I will conquer the world, and make myself emperor over all the earth. Then I will make you my queen.”
But the poor princess cried and cried.
“Hast thou any further commands?” said the Genie.
“Not now,” said the prime-minister; “you may go now;” and the Genie vanished like a puff of smoke.
But the princess cried and cried.
The prime-minister sat down beside her. “Why do you cry?” said he.
“Because I am afraid of you,” said she.
“And why are you afraid of me?” said he.
“Because of that piece of blue glass. You will rub it again, and then that great red monster will come again to frighten me.”
“I will rub it no more,” said he.
“Oh, but you will,” said she; “I know you will.”
“I will not,” said he.
“But I can’t trust you,” said she “as long as you hold it in your hand.”
“Then I will lay it aside,” said he, and so he did. Yes, he did; and he is not the first man who has thrown aside a piece of good luck for the sake of a pretty face. “Now are you afraid of me?” said he.
“No, I am not,” said she; and she reached out her hand as though to give it to him. But, instead of doing so, she snatched up the piece of blue glass as quick as a flash.
“Now,” said she, “it is my turn;” and then the prime-minister knew that his end had come.
She blew her breath upon the piece of blue glass and rubbed her thumb upon it. Instantly, as with a clap of thunder, the great red Genie stood before her, and the poor prime-minister sat shaking and trembling.
“Whosoever hath that piece of blue crystal,” said the Genie, “that one must I obey. What are your orders, O princess?”
“Take this man,” cried the princess, “and carry him away into the desert where you took those other two, and bring my father and Jacob Stuck back again.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie, and instantly he seized the prime-minister, and, in spite of the poor man’s kicks and struggles, snatched him up and flew away with him swifter than the wind. On and on he flew until he had come to the farthest part of the desert, and there sat the king and Jacob Stuck still thinking about things. Down he dropped the prime-minister, up he picked the king and Jacob Stuck, and away he flew swifter than the wind. On and on he flew until he had brought the two back to the palace again; and there sat the princess waiting for them, with the piece of blue crystal in her hand.
“You have saved us!” cried the king.
“You have saved us!” cried Jacob Stuck. “Yes, you have saved us, and you have my piece of good luck into the bargain. Give it to me again.”
“I will do nothing of the sort,” said the princess. “If the men folk think no more of a piece of good luck than to hand it round like a bit of broken glass, it is better for the women folk to keep it for them.”
the Genie flying with the king
And there, to my mind, she brewed good common-sense, that needed no skimming to make it fit for Jacob Stuck, or for any other man, for the matter of that.
And now for the end of this story. Jacob Stuck lived with his princess in his fine palace as grand as a king, and when the old king died he became the king after him.
One day there came two men travelling along, and they were footsore and weary. They stopped at Jacob Stuck’s palace and asked for something to eat. Jacob Stuck did not know them at first, and then he did. One was Joseph and the other was John.
This is what had happened to them:
Joseph had sat and sat where John and Jacob Stuck had left him on his box of silver money, until a band of thieves had come along and robbed him of it all. John had carried away his pockets and his hat full of gold, and had lived like a prince as long as it had lasted. Then he had gone back for more, but in the meantime some rogue had come along and had stolen it all. Yes; that was what had happened, and now they were as poor as ever.
Jacob Stuck welcomed them and brought them in and made much of them.
Well, the truth is truth, and this is it: It is better to have a little bit of good luck to help one in what one undertakes than to have a chest of silver or a chest of gold.
“And now for your story, holy knight,” said Fortunatus to St. George; “for ’twas your turn, only for this fair lady who came in before you.”
“Aye, aye,” said the saint; “I suppose it was, in sooth, my turn. Ne’th’less, it gives me joy to follow so close so fair and lovely a lady.” And as he spoke he winked one eye at Cinderella, beckoned towards her with his cup of ale, and took a deep draught to her health. “I shall tell you,” said he, as soon as he had caught his breath again, “a story about an angel and a poor man who travelled with him, and all the wonderful things the poor man saw the angel do.”
“That,” said the Blacksmith who made Death sit in his pear-tree until the wind whistled through his ribs—“that, methinks, is a better thing to tell for a sermon than for a story.”
“Whether or no that be so,” said St. George, “you shall presently hear for yourselves.”
He took another deep draught of ale, and then cleared his throat.
“Stop a bit, my friend,” said Ali Baba. “What is your story about?”
“It is,” said St. George, “about—”
angel holding a up an apple
Once upon a time there was a servant who served a wise man, and cooked for him his cabbage and his onions and his pot-herbs and his broth, day after day, time in and time out, for seven years.
In those years the servant was well enough contented, but no one likes to abide in the same place forever, and so one day he took it into his head that he would like to go out into the world to see whatkind of a fortune a man might make there for himself. “Very well,” says the wise man, the servant’s master; “you have served me faithfully these seven years gone, and now that you ask leave to go you shall go. But it is little or nothing in the way of money that I can give you, and so you will have to be content with what I can afford. See, here is a little pebble, and its like is not to be found in the seven kingdoms, for whoever holds it in his mouth can hear while he does so all that the birds and the beasts say to one another. Take it—it is yours, and, if you use it wisely, it may bring you a fortune.”
The servant would rather have had the money in hand than the magic pebble, but, as nothing better was to be had, he took the little stone, and, bidding his master good-bye, trudged out into the world to seek his fortune. Well, he jogged on and on, paying his way with the few pennies he had saved in his seven years of service, but for all of his travelling nothing of good happened to him until, one morning, he came to a lonely place where there stood a gallows, and there he sat him down to rest, and it is just in such an unlikely place as this that a man’s best chance of fortune comes to him sometimes.
As the servant sat there, there came two ravens flying, and lit upon the cross-beam overhead.There they began talking to one another, and the servant popped the pebble into his mouth to hear what they might say.
“Yonder is a traveller in the world,” said the first raven.
“Yes,” said the second, “and if he only knew how to set about it, his fortune is as good as made.”
“How is that so?” said the first raven.
“Why, thus,” said the second. “If he only knew enough to follow yonder road over the hill, he would come by-and-by to a stone cross where two roads meet, and there he would find a man sitting. If he would ask it of him, that man would lead him to the garden where the fruit of happiness grows.”
“The fruit of happiness!” said the first raven, “and of what use would the fruit of happiness be to him?”
“What use? I tell you, friend, there is no fruit in the world like that, for one has only to hold it in one’s hand and wish, and whatever one asks for one shall have.”
You may guess that when the servant understood the talk of the ravens he was not slow in making use of what he heard. Up he scrambled, and away he went as fast as his legs could carry him. On and on he travelled, until he came tothe cross-roads and the stone cross of which the raven spoke, and there, sure enough, sat the traveller. He was clad in a weather-stained coat, and he wore dusty boots, and the servant bade him good-morning.
How should the servant know that it was an angel whom he beheld, and not a common wayfarer?
“Whither away, comrade,” asked the traveller.
“Out in the world,” said the servant, “to seek my fortune. And what I want to know is this—will you guide me to where I can find the fruit of happiness?”
“You ask a great thing of me,” said the other; “nevertheless, since you do ask it, it is not for me to refuse, though I may tell you that many a man has sought for that fruit, and few indeed have found it. But if I guide you to the garden where the fruit grows, there is one condition you must fulfil: many strange things will happen upon our journey between here and there, but concerning all you see you must ask not a question and say not a word. Do you agree to that?”
“Yes,” said the servant, “I do.”
“Very well,” said his new comrade; “then let us be jogging, for I have business in the town to-night, and the time is none too long to get there.”
the servant bids good-morning to the traveller at the stone cross
So all the rest of that day they journeyed onward together, until, towards evening, they came to a town with high towers and steep roofs and tall spires. The servant’s companion entered the gate as though he knew the place right well, and led the way up one street and down another, until, by-and-by, they came to a noble house that stood a little apart by itself, with gardens of flowers and fruit-trees all around it. There the travelling companion stopped, and, drawing out a little pipe from under his jacket, began playing so sweetly upon it that it made one’s heart stand still to listen to the music.
Well, he played and played until, by-and-by, the door opened, and out came a serving-man. “Ho, piper!” said he, “would you like to earn good wages for your playing?”
“Yes,” said the travelling companion, “I would, for that is why I came hither.”
“Then follow me,” said the servant, and thereupon the travelling companion tucked away his pipe and entered, with the other at his heels.
The house-servant led the way from one room to another, each grander than the one they left behind, until at last he came to a great hall where dozens of servants were serving a fine feast. But only one man sat at table—a young man with a face so sorrowful that it made abody’s heart ache to look upon him. “Can you play good music, piper?” said he.
“Yes,” said the piper, “that I can, for I know a tune that can cure sorrow. But before I blow my pipe I and my friend here must have something to eat and drink, for one cannot play well with an empty stomach.”
“So be it,” said the young man; “sit down with me and eat and drink.”
So the two did without second bidding, and such food and drink the serving-man had never tasted in his life before. And while they were feasting together the young man told them his story, and why it was he was so sad. A year before he had married a young lady, the most beautiful in all that kingdom, and had friends and comrades and all things that a man could desire in the world. But suddenly everything went wrong; his wife and he fell out and quarrelled until there was no living together, and she had to go back to her old home. Then his companions deserted him, and now he lived all alone.
“Yours is a hard case,” said the travelling companion, “but it is not past curing.” Thereupon he drew out his pipes and began to play, and it was such a tune as no man ever listened to before. He played and he played, and, after a while, one after another of those who listened to him beganto get drowsy. First they winked, then they shut their eyes, and then they nodded until all were as dumb as logs, and as sound asleep as though they would never waken again. Only the servant and the piper stayed awake, for the music did not make them drowsy as it did the rest. Then, when all but they two were tight and fast asleep, the travelling companion arose, tucked away his pipe, and, stepping up to the young man, took from off his finger a splendid ruby ring, as red as blood and as bright as fire, and popped the same into his pocket. And all the while the serving-man stood gaping like a fish to see what his comrade was about. “Come,” said the travelling companion, “it is time we were going,” and off they went, shutting the door behind them.
As for the serving-man, though he remembered his promise and said nothing concerning what he had beheld, his wits buzzed in his head like a hive of bees, for he thought that of all the ugly tricks he had seen, none was more ugly than this—to bewitch the poor sorrowful young man into a sleep, and then to rob him of his ruby ring after he had fed them so well and had treated them so kindly.
But the next day they jogged on together again until by-and-by they came to a great forest. There they wandered up and down till nightcame upon them and found them still stumbling onward through the darkness, while the poor serving-man’s flesh quaked to hear the wild beasts and the wolves growling and howling around them.
the piper plays for the feast-goers
But all the while the angel—his travelling companion—said never a word; he seemed to doubt nothing nor fear nothing, but trudged straight ahead until, by-and-by, they saw a light twinkling far away, and, when they came to it, they found a gloomy stone house, as ugly as eyes ever looked upon. Up stepped the servant’s comrade and knocked upon the door—rap! tap! tap! By-and-by it was opened a crack, and there stood an ugly old woman, blear-eyed and crooked and gnarled as a winter twig. But the heart within her was good for all that. “Alas, poor folk!” she cried, “why do you come here? This is a den where lives a band of wicked thieves. Every day they go out to rob and murder poor travellers like yourselves. By-and-by they will come back, and when they find you here they will certainly kill you.”
“No matter for that,” said the travelling companion; “we can go no farther to-night, so you must let us in and hide us as best you may.”
And in he went, as he said, with the servant at his heels trembling like a leaf at what he hadheard. The old woman gave them some bread and meat to eat, and then hid them away in the great empty meal-chest in the corner, and there they lay as still as mice.
the gang of thieves
By-and-by in came the gang of thieves with a great noise and uproar, and down they sat to their supper. The poor servant lay in the chest listening to all they said of the dreadful things they had done that day—how they had cruelly robbed and murdered poor people. Every word that they said he heard, and he trembled untilhis teeth chattered in his head. But all the same the robbers knew nothing of the two being there, and there they lay until near the dawning of the day. Then the travelling companion bade the servant be stirring, and up they got, and out of the chest they came, and found all the robbers sound asleep and snoring so that the dust flew.
“Stop a bit,” said the angel—the travelling companion—“we must pay them for our lodging.”
As he spoke he drew from his pocket the ruby ring which he had stolen from the sorrowful young man’s finger, and dropped it into the cup from which the robber captain drank. Then he led the way out of the house, and, if the serving-man had wondered the day before at that which his comrade did, he wondered ten times more to see him give so beautiful a ring to such wicked and bloody thieves.
The third evening of their journey the two travellers came to a little hut, neat enough, but as poor as poverty, and there the comrade knocked upon the door and asked for lodging. In the house lived a poor man and his wife; and, though the two were as honest as the palm of your hand, and as good and kind as rain in spring-time, they could hardly scrape enough of a living to keep body and soul together. Nevertheless, they made the travellers welcome, and set before them thevery best that was to be had in the house; and, after both had eaten and drunk, they showed them to bed in a corner as clean as snow, and there they slept the night through.
the two travellers
But the next morning, before the dawning of the day, the travelling companion was stirring again. “Come,” said he; “rouse yourself, for I have a bit of work to do before I leave this place.”
And strange work it was! When they had come outside of the house, he gathered together a great heap of straw and sticks of wood, and stuffed all under the corner of the house. Then he struck a light and set fire to it, and, as the two walked away through the gray dawn, all was a red blaze behind them.
Still, the servant remembered his promise to his travelling comrade, and said never a word or asked never a question, though all that day he walked on the other side of the road, and would have nothing to say or to do with the other. But never a whit did his comrade seem to think of or to care for that. On they jogged, and, by the time evening was at hand, they had come to a neat cottage with apple and pear trees around it, all as pleasant as the eye could desire to see. In this cottage lived a widow and her only son, and they also made the travellers welcome, andset before them a good supper and showed them to a clean bed.
This time the travelling comrade did neither good nor ill to those of the house, but in the morning he told the widow whither they were going, and asked if she and her son knew the way to the garden where grew the fruit of happiness.
“Yes,” said she, “that we do, for the garden is not a day’s journey from here, and my son himself shall go with you to show you the way.”
“That is good,” said the servant’s comrade, “and if he will do so I will pay him well for his trouble.”
So the young man put on his hat, and took up his stick, and off went the three, up hill and down dale, until by-and-by they came over the top of the last hill, and there below them lay the garden.
And what a sight it was, with the leaves shining and glistening like so many jewels in the sunlight! I only wish that I could tell you how beautiful that garden was. And in the middle of it grew a golden tree, and on it golden fruit. The servant, who had travelled so long and so far, could see it plainly from where he stood, and he did not need to be told that it was the fruit of happiness. But, after all, all he could do was tostand and look, for in front of them was a great raging torrent, without a bridge for a body to cross over.
“Yonder is what you seek,” said the young man, pointing with his finger, “and there you can see for yourself the fruit of happiness.”
The travelling companion said never a word, good or bad, but, suddenly catching the widow’s son by the collar, he lifted him and flung him into the black, rushing water. Splash! went the young man, and then away he went whirling over rocks and water-falls. “There!” cried the comrade, “that is your reward for your service!”
the young man went whirling over rocks and water-falls
When the servant saw this cruel, wicked deed, he found his tongue at last, and all that he had bottled up for the seven days came frothing out of him like hot beer. Such abuse as he showered upon his travelling companion no man ever listened to before. But to all the servant said the other answered never a word until he had stopped for sheer want of breath. Then—
“Poor fool,” said the travelling companion, “if you had only held your tongue a minute longer, you, too, would have had the fruit of happiness in your hand. Now it will be many a day before you have a sight of it again.”
Thereupon, as he ended speaking, he struck his staff upon the ground. Instantly the earthtrembled, and the sky darkened overhead until it grew as black as night. Then came a great flash of fire from up in the sky, which wrapped the travelling companion about until he was hidden from sight. Then the flaming fire flew away to heaven again, carrying him along with it. After that the sky cleared once more, and, lo and behold! the garden and the torrent and all were gone, and nothing was left but a naked plain covered over with the bones of those who had come that way before, seeking the fruit which the travelling servant had sought.
It was a long time before the servant found his way back into the world again, and the first house he came to, weak and hungry, was the widow’s.
But what a change he beheld! It was a poor cottage no longer, but a splendid palace, fit for a queen to dwell in. The widow herself met him at the door, and she was dressed in clothes fit for a queen to wear, shining with gold and silver and precious stones.
The servant stood and stared like one bereft of wits. “How comes all this change?” said he, “and how did you get all these grand things?”
“My son,” said the widow woman,“has just been to the garden, and has brought home from there the fruit of happiness. Many a day did we search, but never could we find how to enter into the garden, until, the other day, an angel came and showed the way to my son, and he was able not only to gather of the fruit for himself, but to bring an apple for me also.”
Then the poor travelling servant began to thump his head. He saw well enough through the millstone now, and that he, too, might have had one of the fruit if he had but held his tongue a little longer.
Yes, he saw what a fool he had made of himself, when he learned that it was an angel with whom he had been travelling the five days gone.
But, then, we are all of us like the servant for the matter of that; I, too, have travelled with an angel many a day, I dare say, and never knew it.
That night the servant lodged with the widow and her son, and the next day he started back home again upon the way he had travelled before. By evening he had reached the place where the house of the poor couple stood—the house that he had seen the angel set fire to. There he beheld masons and carpenters hard at work hacking and hewing, and building a fine new house. And there he saw the poor man himself standing by giving them orders. “How is this,” said thetravelling servant; “I thought that your house was burned down?”
“So it was, and that is how I came to be rich now,” said the one-time poor man. “I and my wife had lived in our old house for many a long day, and never knew that a great treasure of silver and gold was hidden beneath it, until a few days ago there came an angel and burned it down over our heads, and in the morning we found the treasure. So now we are rich for as long as we may live.”
The next morning the poor servant jogged along on his homeward way more sad and downcast than ever, and by evening he had come to the robbers’ den in the thick woods, and there the old woman came running to the door to meet him. “Come in!” cried she; “come in and welcome! The robbers are all dead and gone now, and I use the treasure that they left behind to entertain poor travellers like yourself. The other day there came an angel hither, and with him he brought the ring of discord that breeds spite and rage and quarrelling. He gave it to the captain of the band, and after he had gone the robbers fought for it with one another until they were all killed. So now the world is rid of them, and travellers can come and go as they please.”
Back jogged the travelling servant, and thenext day came to the town and to the house of the sorrowful young man. There, lo and behold! instead of being dark and silent, as it was before, all was ablaze with light and noisy with the sound of rejoicing and merriment. There happened to be one of the household standing at the door, and he knew the servant as the companion of that one who had stolen the ruby ring. Up he came and laid hold of the servant by the collar, calling to his companions that he had caught one of the thieves. Into the house they hauled the poor servant, and into the same room where he had been before, and there sat the young man at a grand feast, with his wife and all his friends around him. But when the young man saw the poor serving-man he came to him and took him by the hand, and set him beside himself at the table. “Nobody except your comrade could be so welcome as you,” said he,“and this is why. An enemy of mine one time gave me a ruby ring, and, though I knew nothing of it, it was the ring of discord that bred strife wherever it came. So, as soon as it was brought into the house, my wife and all my friends fell out with me, and we quarrelled so that they all left me. But, though I knew it not at that time, your comrade was an angel, and took the ring away with him, and now I am as happy as I was sorrowful before.”
By the next night the servant had come back to his home again. Rap! tap! tap! he knocked at the door, and the wise man who had been his master opened to him. “What do you want?” said he.
“I want to take service with you again,” said the travelling servant.
“Very well,” said the wise man; “come in and shut the door.”
And for all I know the travelling servant is there to this day. For he is not the only one in the world who has come in sight of the fruit of happiness, and then jogged all the way back home again to cook cabbage and onions and pot-herbs, and to make broth for wiser men than himself to sup.
That is the end of this story.
“I like your story, holy sir,” said the Blacksmith who made Death sit in a pear-tree. “Ne’th’less, it hath indeed somewhat the smack of a sermon, after all. Methinks I am like my friend yonder,” and he pointed with his thumb towards Fortunatus; “I like to hear a story about treasures of silver and gold, and about kings and princes—a story that turneth out well in the end, with everybody happy, and the man himself married in luck, rather than one that turneth out awry, even if it hath an angel in it.”
“Well, well,” said St. George, testily, “one cannot please everybody. But as for being a sermon, why, certes, my story was not that—and even if it were, it would not have hurt thee, sirrah.”
“No offence,” said the Blacksmith; “I meant not to speak ill of your story. Come, come, sir, will you not take a pot of ale with me?”
“Why,” said St. George, somewhat mollified, “for the matter of that, I would as lief as not.”
“I liked the story well enough,” piped up the littleTailor who had killed seven flies at a blow. “’Twas a good enough story of its sort, but why does nobody tell a tale of good big giants, and of wild boars, and of unicorns, such as I killed in my adventures you wot of?”
Old Ali Baba had been sitting with his hands folded and his eyes closed. Now he opened them and looked at the little Tailor. “I know a story,” said he, “about a Genie who was as big as a giant, and six times as powerful. And besides that,” he added, “the story is all about treasures of gold, and palaces, and kings, and emperors, and what not, and about a cave such as that in which I myself found the treasure of the forty thieves.”
The Blacksmith who made Death sit in the pear-tree clattered the bottom of his canican against the table. “Aye, aye,” said he, “that is the sort of story for me. Come, friend, let us have it.”
“Stop a bit,” said Fortunatus; “what is this story mostly about?”
“It is,” said Ali Baba, “about two men betwixt whom there was—”
a merchant from the far east
Once upon a time, in a country in the far East, a merchant was travelling towards the city with three horses loaded with rich goods, and a purse containing a hundred pieces of gold money. The day was very hot, and the road dusty and dry, so that, by-and-by, when he reached a spot where a cool, clear spring of water came bubbling out from under a rock beneath the shade of a wide-spreading waysidetree, he was glad enough to stop and refresh himself with a draught of the clear coolness and rest awhile. But while he stooped to drink at the fountain the purse of gold fell from his girdle into the tall grass, and he, not seeing it, let it lie there, and went his way.
Now it chanced that two fagot-makers—the elder by name Ali, the younger Abdallah—who had been in the woods all day chopping fagots, came also travelling the same way, and stopped at the same fountain to drink. There the younger of the two spied the purse lying in the grass, and picked it up. But when he opened it and found it full of gold money, he was like one bereft of wits; he flung his arms, he danced, he shouted, he laughed, he acted like a madman; for never had he seen so much wealth in all of his life before—a hundred pieces of gold money!
Now the older of the two was by nature a merry wag, and though he had never had the chance to taste of pleasure, he thought that nothing in the world could be better worth spending money for than wine and music and dancing. So, when the evening had come, he proposed that they two should go and squander it all at the Inn. But the younger fellow—Abdallah—was by nature just as thrifty as the other was spendthrift, and would not consent to waste what he had found. Neverthelesshe was generous and open-hearted, and grudged his friend nothing; so, though he did not care for a wild life himself, he gave Ali a piece of gold to spend as he chose.
the older fagot-maker dancing
By morning every copper of what had been given to the elder fagot-maker was gone, and he had never had such a good time in his life before. All that day and for a week the head of Ali was so full of the memory of the merry night that he had enjoyed that he could think of nothing else. At last, one evening, he asked Abdallah for another piece of gold, and Abdallah gave it to him, and by the next morning it had vanished in the same way that the other had flown. By-and-by Ali borrowed a third piece of money, and then a fourth and then a fifth, so that by the time that six months had passed and gone he had spent thirty of the hundred pieces that had been found, and in all that time Abdallah had used not so much as a pistareen.
But when Ali came for the thirty-and-first loan, Abdallah refused to let him have any more money. It was in vain that the elder begged and implored—the younger abided by what he had said.
Then Ali began to put on a threatening front. “You will not let me have the money?” he said.
“No, I will not.”
“You will not?”
“No!”
“Then you shall!” cried Ali; and, so saying, caught the younger fagot-maker by the throat, and began shaking him and shouting “Help! Help! I am robbed! I am robbed!” He made such an uproar that half a hundred men, women, and children were gathered around them in less than a minute. “Here is ingratitude for you!” cried Ali. “Here is wickedness and thievery! Look at this wretch, all good men, and then turn away your eyes! For twelve years have I lived with this young man as a father might live with a son, and now how does he repay me? He has stolen all that I have in the world—a purse of seventy sequins of gold.”
All this while poor Abdallah had been so amazed that he could do nothing but stand and stare like one stricken dumb; whereupon all the people, thinking him guilty, dragged him off to the judge, reviling him and heaping words of abuse upon him.
Now the judge of that town was known far and near as the “Wise Judge;” but never had he had such a knotty question as this brought up before him, for by this time Abdallah had found his speech, and swore with a great outcry that the money belonged to him.
But at last a gleam of light came to the Wise Judge in his perplexity. “Can any one tell me,” said he, “which of these fellows has had money of late, and which has had none?”
His question was one easily enough answered; a score of people were there to testify that the elder of the two had been living well and spending money freely for six months and more, and a score were also there to swear that Abdallah had lived all the while in penury. “Then that decides the matter,” said the Wise Judge. “The money belongs to the elder fagot-maker.”
“But listen, oh my lord judge!” cried Abdallah. “All that this man has spent I have given to him—I, who found the money. Yes, my lord, I have given it to him, and myself have spent not so much as a single mite.”
All who were present shouted with laughter at Abdallah’s speech, for who would believe that any one would be so generous as to spend all upon another and none upon himself?
So poor Abdallah was beaten with rods until he confessed where he had hidden his money; then the Wise Judge handed fifty sequins to Ali and kept twenty himself for his decision, and all went their way praising his justice and judgment.
That is to say, all but poor Abdallah; he went to his home weeping and wailing, and with everyone pointing the finger of scorn at him. He was just as poor as ever, and his back was sore with the beating that he had suffered. All that night he continued to weep and wail, and when the morning had come he was weeping and wailing still.