Squib and His Friends
- -
- 100%
- +
“The prince followed him into the little dark hut, where he soon blew up a few sparks of fire, and lighted some dry twigs, which blazed merrily. The prince could see that the hut was clean, though so small and dark, and the charcoal-burner pointed to the bed in the corner.
“’There, sir, you can make yourself comfortable there; and I’ll get the supper as fast as I can.’
“The prince was so tired that he was glad enough to stretch his limbs even on such a rude couch as that one; but he was too hungry to go to sleep yet.
“’Make haste with that supper, my good friend,’ he kept saying. ‘I hope you have something good to give me.’
“’Oh, excellent,’ answered the old man, who was dividing his attention between his meiler and his guest, often darting out to the former, but coming quickly back again to his hospitable cares; ‘good bread and plenty of it, and the most excellent cheese. Why, it gives me an appetite even to think of it! It is all so good. Drink, did you say, sir? Why, to be sure. There is water in the brook – such fresh, sparkling water! Why, no prince in his palace could have better. Oh, you shall sup well, sir; never fear. Everything is of the very best.’
“The good man spoke with such hearty conviction that the prince could not but smile. However, he was so hungry that he really found pleasure in eating the coarse fare of the peasant, and was ready to agree with him that the food was excellent. The spring water was clear and pure, and the cup from which he drank, although only of earthenware, was quite clean, though the prince could not but feel amused to think what his knights and servants would think could they see him sharing the supper and resting on the bed of the old charcoal-burner.
“But the peasant could not linger long; his meiler required his constant presence. He slipped away, and the shadows fell in the hut. The prince stretched himself upon his bed of moss and leaves, and was soon in a sound, dreamless slumber.
“When he awoke the sun was up in the sky, and the charcoal-burner’s task was for the present over. The meiler could now be left to cool down unwatched, and the old man was at liberty to guide his guest through the forest towards the town.
“So the horse was caught and saddled, and the prince mounted, whilst the peasant walked beside him and showed him the way through the intricate forest paths.
“’No wonder I lost my way!’ cried the prince, ‘it is a veritable labyrinth!’
“Prince and charcoal-burner talked together in friendly fashion whilst they journeyed on, and at last the old man paused, and pointed through the trees towards something gleaming white before them.
“’That is the great road, sir; now you cannot lose yourself any more. Turn to the left when you reach it, and it will take you straight to the town. You will see the castle tower to guide you when you have gone a little way. The prince lives there, as perhaps you know.’
“’Have you ever seen the prince?’ asked the traveller.
“’No, sir, never. They say he is a fine young gentleman, and often hunts in the forest. I hear the horns sometimes, but I have never seen him.’
“’What do the people say of him? Does he do anything else but hunt in the forest?’
“’Why, that’s more than I know, sir, having no concern with the affairs of princes. I have my meiler to mind, and he has his country. If he’s a wise prince, he will know better than to spend all his time a-hunting. And now, sir, I will wish you good-day, and go back. I have my day’s work to do in the forest.’
“But when the prince would have rewarded the man and paid him for his hospitality, he drew back hurt, and would not accept a penny. He was no innkeeper, he said. The gentleman was welcome to all he had had, and it was plain that he would have been much pained had the prince insisted on paying him.
“’Well then, my good friend,’ said the prince, ‘since you will not let me pay you anything, you must come some day and sup with me at my house, since I have supped at yours. That is fair enough; you cannot say nay to that.’
“’Well, sir,’ answered the peasant, ‘if you will have it so, I will come; but you must tell me where you live, else I shall not know where to go when I get to the town.’
“’Oh, as for that, I will send a servant for you one of these days,’ answered the prince, ‘and he will show you the way.’
‘Well, and provided I have not my meiler to watch I will come with him,’ answered the charcoal-burner; and then he turned back into the forest and went back to his hut (little knowing it was the prince he had entertained) whilst the prince rode home to his castle, and turned up safe and sound, to the great relief and satisfaction of his gentlemen.
“A few days later, as the charcoal-burner was sitting at the door of his hut one fine evening, a grand servant rode up and told him he had orders to fetch him to sup at his master’s house. The peasant knew then that his guest had not forgotten his promise, and he made ready to go with the man, brushing up his poor clothes as well as he could, and washing away all the traces of his smutty toil off hands and face. Then he went with the servant, and as they neared the town he saw many men wearing the same livery walking about in the streets; and presently his guide took him through a great gateway into the castle itself; and the charcoal-burner stopped short in affright, and said, —
“’But I must not enter here! Surely this is the prince’s castle!’
“’Why, yes,’ answered his guide, ‘and it is the prince who has sent for you to-day.’
“The old man was greatly astonished and rather troubled at this; but he had to go on now, and followed his guide into a room which seemed to him wonderfully large and beautiful, where a splendid banquet was laid out, of which he was bidden freely to partake.
“When the different dishes – almost more than he could count – were placed upon the table, the servants withdrew and left him to eat his supper in peace alone. It was the most wonderful experience he had ever known. He tasted the dishes one after the other, finding them all so good he could not tell which was best. There were choice wines too, which he sipped as he ate, and before very long he had made the very best meal he had ever eaten in his life, and could really eat no more.
“Then the door at the end of the room opened, and in came his guest of a few nights back. There was something about his dress and aspect which assured the charcoal-burner that it really was the prince himself, and he rose to his feet and made a respectful salutation, reassured by the smile with which he was greeted.
“’Well, my good friend, and have you supped well?’
“’Oh, most excellently, your highness,’ he answered respectfully, ‘I have supped like a prince,’
“’Why, so you do in your own hut, according to your own account!’ answered the prince smiling; and then he went up to the table and looked at the dishes there, and his face grew dark and angry. He began finding all manner of fault with first one thing and then the other. This dish was too much cooked, another too little – nothing was done right. He had something bad to say of every one. And so he went on decrying the good food in a haughty and supercilious way, till he suddenly caught sight of the charcoal-burner’s eyes fixed upon him with a look of terror.
“’Why, what is the matter, my good friend,’ he asked. ‘You look as if you had seen a ghost!’
“The old man looked nervously over his shoulder, though he tried to regain his self-possession and to smile back. But his face was pallid, and his hands shook nervously. The prince was very curious.
“’What is the matter?’ he asked.
“’Oh nothing, nothing, your highness. But with your highness’ permission I will wish you good-evening and return home, giving my humble thanks for this most excellent supper.’
“But the prince came and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
“’Nay, my friend,’ he said kindly, ‘but tell me first what is the matter. When I came in, you were happy and at ease; but all in a moment your face changed, and you have been trembling ever since. What was it that you saw to frighten you? Tell me that.’
“Then the old man trembled more than ever and said, —
“’Nay, your highness, ask me not that; for if I tell you, you will be angry and will cast me into prison, and I shall be undone.’
“’No, no,’ answered the prince quickly, ‘I will never do that. I give you my word as a prince. Now fear not, but tell me all. No harm shall come to you, I promise it!’
“’Your highness,’ said the old charcoal-burner with his eyes on the floor, “it was like this. As you stood there, looking at all that good food and calling it not fit to eat – food for pigs, and I wot not what beside – I suddenly felt a cold wind pass over me that made me shiver from head to foot; and when I looked up to see what it was, behold I saw a terrible face looking over your highness’ shoulder, and it seemed to me that it was the face of the devil himself!’
“When the prince heard that, he was quite silent for many minutes, and stood like one who is thinking deeply. The charcoal-burner stood silent and abashed, not daring to raise his eyes; but presently he felt the prince lay a hand upon his shoulder and say to him in a kind voice, —
“’My friend, thou hast well spoken, and thou hast well seen. I will not forget that vision. But shall I tell you something that I saw out in the forest, when I sat at your table, and heard you praise your food and call it good and excellent? Well, perhaps I did not see it as clearly as I should, for mine eyes were holden, but I very well know that it was there – a beautiful angel standing all the while beside thee, and I trow that the name which he bears is called the Angel of Contentment.’”
Herr Adler paused, and the boys, who had both been listening with deep attention, simultaneously drew a long breath. Seppi’s face was full of earnest thought, which brought the colour into his cheeks; and it was Squib who cried out eagerly, —
“Oh, thank you for telling us the story. Do you think it is true?”
“I think it teaches us a great truth, my dear children,” answered Herr Adler kindly; and meeting the gaze of two earnest pairs of eyes, he added, “I am quite sure, for one thing, that, when we speak slightingly and disparagingly of the good things God has given us, and either from vanity or discontent despise and make light of them, it is the devil or one of his angels who puts such thoughts into our hearts. But when we receive everything joyfully and thankfully, neither grumbling because our share is small, nor coveting things beyond our reach because others have them, then the spirit of contentment and happiness takes up its abode in our hearts; and if that is not an angel from God – well, it is at least something very like one!”
The smile on Herr Adler’s face was reflected upon that of the two children; and Squib thought with loving admiration how little Seppi had of this world’s goods, and yet how contented he was! Surely the Angel of Contentment could not be very far away from him! But he did not say this; it only came into his head. What he said was, —
“I wonder the old man didn’t know it was the prince. If he had really lived so near his castle always, wouldn’t he have seen him sometimes?”
Then Herr Adler laughed, and answered, —
“It does not quite follow, as I can show you by another tale, which I believe to be quite true. It happened to the King of Prussia, the great-grandfather of the present emperor. He was walking one day in the outer park surrounding the castle where he was then living, and he was wearing his undress uniform, so that there was nothing to distinguish him from quite an ordinary soldier. As he drew near to the gateway he saw a little boy with a donkey, and the little boy called out to him and beckoned him to come. Very much amused, the king approached, and the little boy said, ‘Look here, I want you to hold my donkey. I’ve got a letter which I must leave at the castle, and I may not take my donkey inside the gate. But if you will take care of him till I get back you shall not be the loser. I’ll give you something for your trouble when I get back!’ So the king took the donkey by the bridle and held him whilst the little boy ran up to the castle and delivered his letter. Then when the little fellow had come back, he pulled out a little silver halfpenny (such as they had in Germany then) and gave it to the king, saying, ‘There, my good friend, that’s for your trouble, and thank you!’ and then he got on his donkey and rode off. But the king kept the silver halfpenny and took it home with him, and when he reached his wife’s room he went in and held it out on the palm of his hand, and said – ’See there, wife; there is the first money that thy husband has ever earned by the work of his own hands!’”
Both boys laughed merrily at this story, and forgot the grave thoughts which had gone before. But they did not forget to think of Herr Adler’s words many times during the days that flew so happily by. Seppi never blushed nor made excuse for the poor or coarse fare he brought with him, and Squib would eat it as readily and with as good an appetite as Lisa’s cakes, thinking of the prince in the wood, and how he found all so good when it was seasoned by a good appetite. He and Seppi would play at the prince and the charcoal-burner, and numbers of other games suggested by Herr Adler’s tales; and he came often to see them in their favourite valley, and Squib declared that he was sure the sun shone brighter and the flowers came out better and faster on the days Herr Adler came.
“He’s the most splendid man for stories that ever was!” he cried in great admiration one day; “but I feel that, if I had as many stories in my head as he has, it would just burst!”
CHAPTER VIII.
A WONDERFUL WALK
“Do come to see my home and my mother,” pleaded Squib one day; “I should so like it – and I’m sure she would too!”
So Herr Adler smilingly consented, and climbed up over the brow of the hill with Squib, pointing out to him a hundred curious and beautiful things along the path that he had never seen before, or rather, had never noticed. There was nobody at home at the chalet when they got there, as the ladies had gone out for a walk before their noonday lunch or breakfast. But Squib did not mind this, for he wanted to show Herr Adler all his collections, and to ask him a lot of questions about the specimens he had picked up and stored away in his cupboards.
Of course Herr Adler knew just what he wanted, and told all about it so interestingly, that they were a long while in getting through the collection. But Squib kept finding again and again how careless and slovenly his work often was. He wanted to dry some plants as specimens, but he was always in a hurry over it, and did it so carelessly that the poor plant was quite spoiled; and even his butterflies and moths were many of them ruined because he did not take enough pains with pinning them down properly. When the little boy saw how patiently and gently Herr Adler fingered the specimens, and how understandingly he treated them, he felt ashamed of his own hasty slovenliness, and heaving a great sigh he said, —
“Oh, I wish I were clever like you! It must be nice to do everything so well!”
“No, no, my little friend, that is not it at all,” answered Herr Adler. “You could do all this just as well as I am doing now with my big, clumsy fingers; but you must have patience, and you must take pains. Nothing is ever done well in this world without care and time and patience.”
“Ah, that’s just it!” sighed Squib, “and I’m not patient. I’m always in a hurry to get to something else. I want to do things; but I can’t do them well.”
“Not all at once, of course; but if you always do your very best, it will surprise you how fast you will get on. You often hear the saying that if a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well. Try always to keep that in mind, and you will soon see how fast you learn to work cleverly, both with your hands and with your head.”
“Well, I’ll try,” answered Squib with a sigh; “but it’s very hard not to be in a hurry sometimes.”
Herr Adler came presently to his collection of carved animals for the little sisters and friends at home. Squib displayed them with some pride, and his friend spoke very kindly about them; for until Seppi had taught him a little, Squib had had no idea of carving. But he showed Squib, as Seppi never did, how odd many of his animals were, with impossible horns and tails, wrong heads on wrong bodies, and legs sometimes jointed the wrong way – all sorts of blunders, partly careless, partly the result of lacking skill, but defects which Squib had taken as a matter of course before.
“They are such little things, and only to amuse the children,” said the little boy, “you see it doesn’t much matter whether they are right or wrong. They will never care.”
“That may be very true; but that’s not the way to look at it,” answered Herr Adler smiling. “Are you going to be always content to carve in this anyhow fashion? and if not, how are you going to improve, if you are quite satisfied with a creature which has the head of a horse, and the body of a goat, and the tail of a dog?”
Squib burst out laughing as Herr Adler held up the nondescript animal in question, turning it round and round in his hand as he spoke.
“It is rather a queer one, isn’t it? But Seppi never told me they were wrong; and Lisa calls them all wunderschön. I never troubled to think whether they were right or wrong; but I will now.”
“Do, my little friend, and you will find your work a hundred times more interesting. See how Seppi enjoys drawing his goats, now that he is really trying to make them like life, not just so many four-legged creatures that might be almost anything.”
“That’s quite true,” answered Squib; “it’s ever so much more interesting. I’ll try that with my carving and other things; but I wish everything didn’t take so long in the learning.”
And then they went down to luncheon, and Herr Adler was introduced by Squib with great pride to his mother and her friends.
During luncheon he was so quiet that Squib was rather disappointed, afraid his mother would not see what a very interesting man he was; but when they all went out upon the little terrace afterwards, and sat there sipping coffee and talking, then Herr Adler was easily drawn into conversation, and soon had all the company listening to his stories, and asking him questions. Squib and Czar sat together on the ground perfectly content, and though the talk was often far above the little boy’s head, he liked to listen all the same, and to note the interest all the ladies took in what Herr Adler told them. It was quite a long time before they would let him go, and Squib’s mother asked him to come again whenever he could spare the time.
“And mother,” cried the little boy, pressing up to her eagerly, “Herr Adler says he will take me to see a glacier ice-cave if you will let me go. It is a long walk, but not too long for me. Please say I may. I do so want to.”
“If Herr Adler is kind enough to be troubled with you, you may certainly go,” answered the lady with a smile. “It is very kind indeed of him to be willing to have you.”
“Herr Adler is very kind,” answered Squib, looking up with happy confidence into the smiling eyes, “and he tells me such lots of beautiful things too. You can’t think how nice it is going about with him.”
The lady and Herr Adler both laughed at that, and then the guest took his departure, having arranged for Squib to meet him at a certain point early on the following morning.
“Isn’t he kind, and isn’t he clever, mother?” he asked eagerly, running back to her; and his mother put her hand upon his head and answered, —
“Yes, Squib, he is all that – and he is better than that; for he is a good man too. It does one good to listen to him. I wish you had brought him here before.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you feel that too, mother,” cried Squib; “I know just what you mean. Every time Herr Adler has been talking to us, Seppi and I both feel as if we wanted to be better – as if we must try harder and harder. I don’t know why it is, because he often only just sits and tells us tales and makes us laugh. But that’s just how we do feel. I suppose it’s because what Seppi said of him is true – that he is a man of God. I always feel that about him.”
“And I am sure it is true,” said his mother gently.
It was a beautiful, clear, cloudless morning on the morrow when Squib jumped out of bed and found that it was time to dress. Early as it was, it was quite light, although the sun would not yet for some little time climb up high enough to look over the crest of the great mountain away to the east. Squib dressed himself quickly, and found that Lisa was already astir, making him a hot breakfast to take before he started, though Squib had not expected anything half so nice.
Then, with Czar at his heels, he ran down the slope of the hill to the meeting-place, not forgetting to take with him his luncheon satchel, which Lisa had stuffed extra full, nor his long iron-pointed stick which he knew he should want when they got to the ice.
Squib was the first at the meeting-place, but Herr Adler was not long after him, and with him came Seppi’s brother Peter, who was to show them the way; for the path in some places varied year by year, owing to constant falls of rock and débris, and the gradual very slow motion of the glacier itself. One place was sometimes a little dangerous, unless a guide was taken; and Peter often earned a little money in the summer by acting as guide to this particular spot. His father always made a careful survey of the place spring by spring, and then showed it to Peter before he went off to his own guide’s work in other places.
It was a wonderfully beautiful morning. The sky was solemn and blue in the west, where a few stars faintly twinkled; but overhead it was of a delicate opal colour, that changed and shimmered as you watched it, while all the east was in a glow of shifting rainbow tints – a great streak of clear, pale green, with rosy lines across it, and beyond, lower down, just touching the mountain side as it seemed, a golden glory radiating upwards, palpitating with living fire, till all in a moment the glorious sun rose, with what seemed a sudden bound, above the dazzling whiteness of the snow, shooting forth great level shafts of light over the spotless snowfields, and along the white dew-spangled meadows, waking up the birds, and changing the solemn, dark pine woods into temples full of shimmering golden rain. Squib looked and looked, holding his breath with a sort of awe, and only just breathing out the delighted exclamation, —
“Oh! isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it glorious?”
Herr Adler’s hand was resting on his shoulder. He felt a kindly answering pressure as the answer came.
“Glorious and beautiful indeed, my child. But do you ever think, my little friend, of what it will be like when the promise is fulfilled, and when the Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings?”
Squib looked up quickly with a question in his eyes.
“No, sir; I don’t think I ever thought about it.”
“Ah no; you are still young for such thoughts. Never mind, they will come to you whether you will or no, as you go on in life. But believe me, my child, that glorious day will come; and when it does, the world will see such glory and blessedness as it has never known yet. God grant that it be near at hand!”
And Squib said in his heart, “Amen!” though he scarcely knew what thought it was that found an echo there.
Then they began their walk, and a most beautiful walk it was. Having started early, and having the whole day before them, they were in no hurry to get to their destination, but could afford time to look at everything as they went along, and even to turn aside to hunt for some specimen of flower or moss in promising-looking places. Sometimes they sat down and talked, and made Peter tell them some of the legends of the mountains, and what the people used to believe about the ice-maidens and the little Bergmännlein in the hills. Herr Adler knew fairy stories too, and told them better than Peter could; and Squib listened with both his ears, and only wished he could remember everything, to repeat it to the children at home.
It was such a beautiful walk! The path led through a great pine wood, and along the side of a roaring stream, which grew narrower and narrower as they pursued its course. And Peter told Squib that it had its rise in the ice-grotto whither they were bound, so that it was always full of water, however dry the summer, being fed by the great glacier itself.