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After this Owlglass pretended to be ill; and taking to his bed, moaned and sighed so piteously that both the Priest and his maid were much grieved, and knew not what to do. As he daily seemed to grow worse, the Priest admonished him to confess, as he had many sins to answer for. Owlglass answered, that he was anxious to confess himself, for though he did not feel guilty of any grievous sin, yet there was one which weighed heavily on his mind, but that he could not confess to him, and therefore earnestly begged he would fetch him another priest. When the Priest heard this, there seemed something strange in it, and his curiosity being strongly excited, he said, "Dear Owlglass, I should have to go a long way for another confessor, and if in the meantime you should die unabsolved we should both have much to answer for, therefore speak, my Son, and your sin shall be forgiven you." "Be it so then," Owlglass said, "but my sin is not so great, as that I fear offending you, for it concerns you." This excited the Priest's curiosity still more, and he said, "Speak without hesitation, for I forgive you beforehand; besides, my anger need not matter, for I dare not divulge your confession." "Oh, my dear, good Friend," Owlglass answered, "I know I shall much anger and offend you; but since I feel that my end is near I will no longer delay. I grieve to say that I have kissed your maid more than once." The Priest inquired how often that had happened; and being told five times, he hastily absolved his penitent, and going out called his servant to him. He accused her of having allowed herself to be kissed by Owlglass; and though she denied it, he took a stick and beat her till she was black and blue. Owlglass laughed when he heard the maid cry, and thought to himself, now the business is settled; so after remaining in bed one more day and night he got up, declaring himself to be quite well. After settling with his host for his board and lodging, he said, "I am now going to Halberstadt to the Bishop, to denounce you for having divulged the secrets of the confessional." The poor Priest, who a moment before had felt quite happy at the prospect of getting rid of so dangerous a visiter, was now taken quite aback, when he saw ruin staring him in the face, and he begged most earnestly that he would not betray him, for it was in anger. He added that he would give him twenty pounds to purchase his secrecy, but Owlglass declared that he would not take fifty. Thereupon the Priest begged his maid to intercede, and ascertain what Owlglass would accept; and he, after making much difficulty, said he would not take anything but the Priest's horse. Now the Priest would rather have parted with anything than his horse; but there was no help for it, so he gave him the animal. Owlglass mounted the horse and rode off to Wolfenbuttel, where he found the Duke standing on the bridge. As he came near, the Duke took off his coat, saying, "You see, Owlglass, that as you have performed your part of the agreement I am ready to perform mine. There, take the coat I promised you." Owlglass then had to relate by what means he obtained the horse from the Priest; at which the Duke laughed heartily, and besides the coat gave him another horse.

This was not the only priest whom Owlglass tricked, as you shall hear.

Whilst staying in the house where the adventure just told you occurred, he had become acquainted with a priest who came there several times, and there were two things he did not fail to note. Firstly, this Priest was very heavy with sleep every day after dinner, so that it seemed impossible to him to keep his eyes open; and secondly, he had a handsome silver snuff-box, which it was his habit to lay down by his side after taking a pinch from it. He lived in a town at no great distance from Riesenburgh; and thither Owlglass went to stay a day or two, the very first opportunity he had.

Choosing the time when he knew the Priest had dined, he went to the confessional, and by means of a rambling story soon sent his friend asleep, his snuff-box lying by his side as usual. Owlglass then put the box in his own pocket, and having waked the Priest, said, "There is one thing weighs very heavily on my mind, for I have committed the mean crime of theft, and I must beg of you to accept the stolen article."

This the Priest refused to do, advising him to restore it to its real owner; but Owlglass said, "He refuses to accept it."

"Under those circumstances keep it, my Son, and I give you full absolution for having committed the great sin of stealing."

Owlglass then took the box out of his pocket, saying, "This is the box, and it was from you I stole it; when urged by remorse I wished to make restoration, but you refused to accept it, giving me full absolution."

After this he left the confessional, and shortly after the town.

The weather having turned wet, Owlglass thought it well to have his boots greased, that his feet might be kept dry during his frequent wanderings; so, going to a bootmaker of the name of Christopher, in the marketplace of Brunswick, he gave him the boots, and said, "Let these be well larded, and have them ready by to-morrow morning." When he had left the shop, the bootmaker's foreman said, "Master, that is Owlglass, who plays every one some ugly trick or another, so be very careful what you do, or your turn will have come." The Master asked, "What did he tell us to do?" "He told you to lard his boots, meaning to grease them," the Foreman answered; "and if I were you I would act up to the letter of what he said; I should not grease them, but lard them as one lards meat." "Well, we will do as he bids us," the Master said; and cutting up a piece of bacon into small strips, he larded the boots as if they were a joint of meat. Owlglass called the following morning to ask whether the boots were ready; and the bootmaker, pointing to them as they hung against the wall, answered, "Yes, there they are." Owlglass, seeing his boots thus larded, burst out laughing, and said, "Now you are the sort of tradesman I like, for you have conscientiously done as I ordered; how much do I owe you?" "A shilling," was the answer. As he paid the money, Owlglass said, "You are much too moderate in your charges, but I shall not consider that with one miserable shilling I have paid you. Rest assured, my good Friend, that I will not forget you." Then taking his boots he departed, the Master and his Foreman, looking after him, said, "He is the last man to whom such a thing should have happened." And as they talked it over they chuckled that the trickster, in his turn, had been tricked. Their merriment, however, was of but short duration, for suddenly Owlglass's head and shoulders appeared through the shop window, the glass flying in all directions about the place. "Pray, my Friend," he said, "have the goodness to tell me whether my boots are larded with sow's or boar's bacon." When the bootmaker had recovered a little from his surprise, he exclaimed, "Get out of that, you scoundrel, or you will have my last at your head." "Do not be angry, my good Sir," Owlglass said, "for I only wish to know what bacon that is with which you have larded my boots; whether it is from a boar or a sow?"

The bootmaker's rage increased, and he abused him in the vilest terms for breaking his window; but Owlglass said coolly, "If you will not tell me what bacon it is, I must go and ask some one else;" and drawing back his head and shoulders, contriving at the same time to break the windows still further, he disappeared. Then the bootmaker was in a rage with his man, and said, "You gave me advice before; now advise me what I am to do to make my window whole again. Pack yourself off at once, and the wages due to you I shall apply to repairing the mischief your wisdom has caused."

When Owlglass found his pockets empty, he hired himself to a Tailor, who said to him, "Sew neatly, so that no one can see it, as a good workman should do." So Owlglass took a needle and some pieces of cloth, and having crept under the cutting board, with his face turned to the wall, he laid the work across his knees and began to sew in the dark. When the Master beheld this proceeding, he said, "What are you doing there, my man? That is a most extraordinary way of working." Owlglass answered, "Master, you told me to work so that no one could see it, and as you yourself cannot see what I am doing, so can no one else see my work, and therefore I am strictly executing your orders." The Tailor, who was a quiet, easy man, then said, "That was not what I meant; come out there, and sew in such a manner that every one may see how fine your work is." Thus they went on for a matter of three days, when, one evening, the Tailor, feeling sleepy, threw a half-finished rough peasant's coat over to Owlglass, and said, "There, make up that wolf for me, and then you can go to bed, as I am now going to do." You must know, that that particular sort of coat was called a wolf. As soon as the Tailor had left the workshop, Owlglass cut up the coat, and with the pieces first made the head, and then the body and legs of a wolf. He stood it up by means of sticks, and then went to bed. When, on the following morning, the Master went into the shop, he started back in a fright, but Owlglass just then coming in, he saw how it was, and said, "What have you been doing here?" Owlglass answered, "I have made a wolf, as you bid me." And the Tailor saying that he did not mean a wolf of that sort, but the peasant's rough coat, he continued, "My dear Master, I wish I had understood your meaning, for I would rather have made a coat than a wolf." With this the Master was satisfied, and they went on comfortably together for three or four days more, when one evening he again felt sleepy; but thinking it too early for his man to go to bed, he gave him a coat which was finished all but putting in the sleeves, and said, "Whip the sleeves to this coat, and then you can go to rest." Owlglass hung the coat up on a hook, and having laid the sleeves near it, he lighted two candles, and, with a whip he then made, whipped the sleeves all through the night. When the Tailor came in, in the morning, he exclaimed, "What tomfoolery is this?" "It is no tomfoolery," Owlglass answered, "I have done as you told me; but though I have stood here all night whipping the sleeves, I could not get them to stick to the coat. It would have been better you had let me go to bed than make me waste my time in this way." "It is not my fault," the Tailor said, "how could I know you understood it this way, when I meant you to sew the sleeves into the coat?" Owlglass answered, "I wish you would not say one thing when you mean another; but now you may do the work, for I must go to bed." This the Tailor would no way agree to, so they quarrelled; and Owlglass leaving him, went his way.

Owlglass took a lodging at Bamberg, near to the market-place, where he remained about a fortnight, and next door to him there lived a tailor who had three workmen. These men sat on a board, supported by four posts, outside the window, and they laughed at Owlglass, and threw pieces of rag or cloth at him whenever he passed. Owlglass bore all in silence, biding his time to pay them back with interest; and this he determined should be on a fair day, when the market-place would be full of people. The night before the day of the fair he had sawed the posts nearly through which supported the board on which the three tailors sat, and in the morning they placed the board on them as usual, seated themselves on it and began their sewing. Now, when the swineherd blew his horn all the people let out their pigs, and the tailor's pigs also came out of his house, and went, as Owlglass well knew they would, under the board, rubbing themselves against the posts, which, giving way, the three journeymen tailors were thrown into the gutter. Owlglass, who had been on the watch, now cried out, "See how light three tailors are, for a gust of wind has blown them all at once into the street, as if they were but three feathers! How easily a tailor can fly!" And this he cried so loud that he could be heard all over the marketplace. All the people came running to the spot to see the fun, and mocked and laughed at the poor tailors, who knew not what to do for very shame. They could not tell how it was their board fell; but they found out at last, and guessed that it was Owlglass who had played them that trick. They put up fresh posts, but did not again venture to make game of Owlglass.

Owlglass now being in funds, he rode about the country like a gentleman, and one day came to a small town, where he saw a very neat woman, with her servant maid, standing at the door of a smithy, and judged her to be the smith's wife. He put up at an inn just opposite, and during the night pulled the four shoes off his horse. On the following morning he led his horse to the smithy; and as soon as it was known that it was Owlglass, the wife and maidservant came out to see what had brought him there. Owlglass asked the Smith whether he would shoe his horse; to which he at once agreed, for he was glad of an opportunity to have some talk with a man of whom he had heard so much. After much talk on both sides, the Smith said, "If you will tell me a truth that is really true, I will put one shoe on your horse without any charge." To this Owlglass answered, "If you have iron and coals, and there is plenty of wind in the bellows, the fault will be yours if the forge does not go on well." "That is undoubtedly true," said the Smith; and he gave him the promised horseshoe. The assistant, as he was putting on the shoe, said that if he would tell him a truth that applied to him, he would put another shoe on his horse. In answer, Owlglass said, "A smith's assistant must work hard and not spare himself if he expects to please his master." "That is true enough," was the answer, and the horse had a second shoe. Then the wife and the servant wanted a truth told them, for which each promised his horse a shoe. Owlglass whispered his answer in the ear of each of these. To the mistress he said, "When a servant apes her mistress's dress, she would be mistress not only in dress alone." The Mistress marked his glances as well as his words, and said, "That is true enough;" so there was a third shoe for the horse. And to the maid he said, "When a servant is better looking than her mistress, she will find it difficult to please her in anything." The Maid said, "That I know to be true." So the horse got its fourth shoe, and Owlglass rode further on his way.

In the town of Windsheim there lived a rich merchant, who was walking one day outside the town, when he saw Owlglass lying on the grass, and stopping, he asked him what his calling was. Owlglass answered that he was a cook; whereupon the Merchant said, "You are just the man I want, that is, if you understand your business; for my wife is not at all satisfied with her present cook, and we have some of the first people of the town to dine with us to-morrow, to whom we would like to give a good dinner." Owlglass said that he would serve him faithfully, and that he felt confident of giving satisfaction; so the merchant engaged him, stipulating that he should also serve as coachman, and took him home with him at once. As soon as the merchant's wife saw Owlglass, she said, "Who is this fellow whom you have brought home with you, for I do not like the look of him at all?" Her husband answered, "Never mind his look, my Dear, for he is a first-rate cook, and we will serve up a dinner to-morrow that shall be the envy of the whole town." Early the next morning the Merchant gave Owlglass full instructions as to the dinner, telling him what soup, meat, and vegetables to get, and how he liked everything done. "As for game," he added, "Professor Guzzle is particularly fond of roast hare, so we cannot do better than let him have his favourite puss; but, mind, let it be the finest that can be got in the whole town." Owlglass promised that all his instructions should be strictly attended to; and the Merchant, having business of importance to attend to, went out in easy confidence in his new servant. The Merchant got home only just in time to receive his guests, so that he could not visit the kitchen before dinner, and his wife was too fine a lady to attend to such matters. However, the dinner went off very well, and the hare, in particular, was declared to be the finest that had been seen that year; so that all the company were in high spirits. At dessert the conversation turned upon cats; and one of the ladies, addressing the mistress of the house, said she had heard that she had the finest one in the whole town. The Merchant's wife was very proud of her cat, and gave orders that it should be brought into the room; but it could not be found anywhere; and now the servants remembered that they had not seen it since the morning, when one of them saw Owlglass carry it from the kitchen to an outhouse. Owlglass was now sent for into the dining-room, before all the guests, and questioned as to what had become of the cat. Without being in the slightest degree disconcerted, he said his master had told him that Professor Guzzle was very fond of roast hare, and that they could not do better than let him have his favourite puss, and therefore he, Owlglass, was to be sure and get the very finest in the town; that he had searched the whole town through, but there were none to compare to the one in the house, and he was sure his master would not begrudge it his guests; therefore he had killed and roasted it, and the company had just eaten it. Horror was depicted upon most of the countenances, whilst one or two of the guests tried to joke about it; but these the very first showed symptoms of distress, and one after another of the company had to leave the room pale as death, and not one returned. The mistress insisted upon Owlglass being at once sent away; but the Merchant said, "I want him to drive me and the priest to Goslar to-morrow, and when we get back I will immediately send him about his business." That evening he told Owlglass to get the carriage ready for the morrow, and to grease it well. As soon as all had gone to bed, Owlglass took some cart grease and greased the carriage outside and in, but particularly the seats. Early the next morning the Merchant ordered the horses to be put to the carriage, and he and the priest getting in, they drove off in high spirits. They had not gone far, however, when they found they were gradually slipping off the seats; and the Priest exclaimed, "What is all this grease? I held on with my hands to check the jolting, and I am all grease." They ordered Owlglass to stop, and they found they were covered with grease; so that they had to buy a bundle of straw from a farmer and rub themselves and the carriage well. The Merchant had now lost all patience, and he cried out to Owlglass, "I find out now that you are a professed wag, and of the most mischievous class; but you are in the right road, go on, my good Friend, straight to the gallows, and there your journey will be at an end." Owlglass did as he was bid, for, turning off the road, he drove straight to a gallows which stood at no great distance, and stopping there began to take the horses out of the carriage. "What are you doing now, you rascal?" the Merchant exclaimed. Owlglass answered, "You told me to go straight to the gallows, and that there my journey would be at an end, so I naturally thought that we were to stop here." The Merchant looked out of the carriage, and seeing that they were indeed under the gallows, could not help laughing. He said, "You have delayed us so long on the road with your foolery that I am afraid we shall not reach Goslar in time for our business, so now, my good Fellow, I pray you get on as fast as you can. Do not look behind you, but mind only the road before you." Owlglass now again mounted his horse, having first loosened the pin connecting the front wheels, and set off as fast as the horses could gallop. He had not gone far when the pin fell out; but, without looking behind him, he galloped on, carrying off the pole and front wheels, and leaving the body of the carriage far behind. In vain the Priest and Merchant shouted to him to stop. On he went; so they had to jump out of the carriage, and by scrambling through hedges and running across fields they were, fortunately, able to overtake him. Complaint was useless; and as they found they could not now reach Goslar in time, even if their coachman could be trusted to take them there, they determined upon returning home. The homeward journey was accomplished without any further accident; and when the Merchant found himself safe in his own house, he called Owlglass to him and said, "It is but too evident that all the mischief you have done since you have been with me has been done purposely. What have you to say to this?" Owlglass answered, "I do everything strictly to the letter, as I am told, and if I do wrong, the fault is therefore not mine, but the fault of those who give the orders. You do not seem satisfied, so, if you pay me my wages, I would rather look for justice elsewhere." The Merchant thinking it better to avoid further, and perhaps worse, mischief by getting rid of him at once, paid him, and they parted.

Owlglass next went to Wismar, a town much frequented by horse-dealers, and one of these had a habit of pulling the tail of any horse he thought of buying. This he did from a notion that, if the hair were firm in the tail, the horse was strong, and would live long; but if, on the contrary, the hair came out freely, that the animal would not last long, and he would therefore have nothing to do with it. Owlglass knew of this habit, and determined to make some profit of it, so he bought a horse without a tail, which he got very cheap on that account, and most artfully he fastened a beautifully flowing tail to the bare stump, by means of blood and gum. With this horse he went to Wismar, and asked so high a price that no one would bid for it, until the dealer came whose habit it was to pull the horses' tails, and him he asked a very low price. Before striking a bargain, the Horse-dealer, as usual, caught hold of the tail, and having formed a favourable opinion of the animal, gave it, perhaps, a harder tug than customary, when, lo and behold, the tail remained in his hands, and he measured his length upon the ground. A shout of laughter arose on all sides; but that was not enough for Owlglass, who cried out, at the highest pitch of his voice, "See here! the villain has ruined my horse, for, beautiful creature that it is, who would have it without a tail?" The people drew nearer and took part with Owlglass, so that the Horse-dealer had to pay him ten pounds for the damage done to his horse, and Owlglass laughed more heartily than any one, though only to himself.

He rode out of Wismar in high spirits, his trick having succeeded so well; and as soon as he was outside the town he fastened the tail on again, intending to sell the horse in the next town. As he rode along, however, he thought of some other way how to make money by his horse, before finally parting with it. In pursuance of the plan he had formed, he stopped at an inn two or three miles distant from the town, where he intended to put his plan into execution. Here he remained till it had grown dark, so that he might enter the town unseen; which having done, he hired a stable, and having put up his horse, and attended to it himself, he locked the stable-door, putting the key in his pocket.

The next morning he had it cried through the town that there was a horse to be shown with its tail where its head should be, stating a certain hour at which only it could be seen. Before the appointed time he made all necessary preparations in the stable, when he again locked the door and then stood before it, waiting the arrival of the curious. Now, as curiosity was pretty general in the town, there was a numerous attendance; and when Owlglass judged that all the company to be expected had arrived, he collected the admission price from each, and then threw the door open.

There was a general rush, followed by laughter from some, and indignant complaints from others, as they saw the horse, no different in itself to other horses, but fastened with its tail to the manger instead of its head.

Once upon a time Owlglass went to the city of Hamburg, and having reached the market-place he there stood still and looked about him. Whilst he was standing there a man came up to him and asked what he was looking out for. Owlglass saw at once, by his questioner's appearance, what business he followed, answered that he was a barber and was seeking employment. "Well met then," his new acquaintance said, "for I just happen to be in want of a barber's assistant, and I dare say we shall be able to come to a satisfactory arrangement together. I live in that high house just opposite. You see those windows that reach down to the ground. Go in there, and I will follow you presently." Owlglass answered, "Yes." Then crossing the road walked straight through the window, with a terrific crash, and made a polite bow to those within the room. The barber's wife sat there spinning, and, being much frightened, cried out for help, saying, "Here is a madman come through the window." Owlglass said to her, "My good Lady, pray be not angry, for the master bid me come in here, having just hired me as his assistant." "May the foul fiend take you," the lady answered, for she was not possessed of the most even temper, "a pretty assistant you are. Was the door not wide enough for you, that you must needs come in through the window?" Owlglass answered, "My dear Madam, must not an assistant do as his master bids him?" Just then the Barber entered, and seeing all the destruction around him, exclaimed, "What does all this mean?" Owlglass addressed him thus, "You said to me, you see those windows that reach down to the ground--go in there, and I will follow you presently. Now this good lady is angry that I have broken the window, but how could I help doing so, as it was not open? It seems to me that I have the most reason to complain, for I might have cut myself to pieces in doing what I was told to do; but I hope whatever may be the danger I shall never shrink from doing my duty. Now, excuse me to the lady I beseech you, my dear Master, for you see I could not avoid causing the mischief that has happened."

The poor Barber knew not what to say, so thought he might as well not say anything; besides, he wanted his assistance, and was in hopes he might be induced to accept more reasonable terms in consideration of the damage he had done. He now gave Owlglass some razors to sharpen, and as they were somewhat rusty at the backs, he said, "Brighten up the backs; indeed, make them quite like the edge." Owlglass took the razors and made the backs as sharp as the edges, so that the Barber, when he went to see what he was doing, exclaimed, "This is not right!" "How not right?" Owlglass said; "are the backs not sharp enough? But have a little patience and they shall be quite like the edges, as you told me to make them. You see they had got very blunt at the backs, but after a little more sharpening you will be satisfied with them." "Are you an idiot?" the Master cried in a rage; "or is all this mischief done intentionally? Leave the sharpening and pack yourself off back to where you came from." "Well," Owlglass said, "I see we should not be happy together for all our lives, so I may as well go at once;" and he walked out through the window as he had gone in. The Barber was still more enraged at this, and ran after him to have him seized and locked up till he paid for the broken window; but Owlglass was too quick for him, reached a ship that was just about to sail, and was off.

In the depth of winter Owlglass put up at an inn at Eisleben, where one evening there also arrived three merchants from Saxony on their way to Nurenberg. They related how they had been attacked by a wolf, against which they had much difficulty in defending themselves, and that this disagreeable adventure had considerably delayed them. The host, who was a bragging sarcastic sort of a person, joked them much about their adventure, declaring that it was a shame they should allow themselves to be delayed by a miserable wolf; that, for his part, if he were attacked by two wolves, he would soon drive them off, but here three were frightened by one wolf. This continued all the evening till the merchants went to bed, Owlglass in the mean time remaining silent, but turning it over in his mind how he could best play mine host some trick to pay him off for his bragging. The merchants and Owlglass shared the same bed-room; and when the former discussed among themselves how they could repay the mocking of the Innkeeper, Owlglass said he had been thinking it over, and that if they would leave it to him he would engage that they should hear no more about the wolf. The merchants readily agreed, promising a handsome reward if he paid their tormentor off well; and Owlglass then proposed that they should continue their journey, and all meet again there on their return. Early the next morning the merchants paid the reckoning for Owlglass, as well as for themselves, and rode on their way, mine host calling after them to beware lest a wolf should cross their path. Owlglass also took his departure and went on the chase after a wolf. He succeeded in killing one, which he left out in the cold till it was frozen quite stiff, and when the merchants returned he put his prize in a sack, and, taking it with him, joined them at the inn as agreed upon. The Innkeeper again teased his guests about the wolf, talking very big of how he would act. When the merchants went to their bed-room Owlglass joined them, and said, "My good Friends, keep your candle burning, and do not go to bed yet, for we will have some sport this night." Now, as soon as all the household had gone to bed, Owlglass fetched the dead wolf, which was hard frozen, and taking it to the kitchen placed it near the hearth, supporting it with sticks so that it stood upright, at the same time opening its jaws in which he put a child's shoe. Then, quietly returning to his room, he called loudly for something to drink. When the Innkeeper heard this he grumbled at being disturbed, and calling up the maid told her to get some beer for his guests. The maid went to the fire in the kitchen to light a candle, and seeing the wolf with its jaws wide open, rushed out into the yard, thinking the brute had surely devoured the children. Owlglass and the merchants continued to call for drink, and the Innkeeper, thinking the maid had gone to sleep again, called the man. He went to the fire to light a candle, and when he saw the wolf, thought it had made away with the maid, so he too ran out into the yard. The shouting for drink still continuing, the Innkeeper thought the man must be asleep as well as the maid, and, grumbling like a bear, he himself got up. As soon as he had lighted a candle he saw the wolf with the shoe in its jaws, and running to the merchant's room, trembling with terror, cried out, "Come and help me, my dear Friends, for there is a frightful monster in the kitchen, which has devoured my children, maid, and man servant." They went with him; the girl and the man came from the yard, and the wife brought the children. All were alive. Owlglass then went up to the wolf, which he turned over with his foot, and it did not stir; then turning to the Innkeeper, said, "What an arrant coward you are! It is not long ago that you said you were ready to fight two wolves, and just now you ran away, trembling and shouting, from a dead one." The Merchants made rare fun of mine host, and the next morning, after paying the bill, took their departure with Owlglass.

A good many years ago some boys in a village were having rare sport with a mouse which they had quite surrounded, so that the poor little thing could nowhere escape, for to which ever side it turned, a heavy shoe, or a stick, threatened it with instant death. The poor animal thought this no sport at all, but the boys shouted with laughter as they saw it scamper and jump to avoid the blows aimed at it. Activity alone saved it from its tormentors; but this was beginning to fail, when, fortunately, a man came that way.

This man had more kindness in his heart than money in his pockets; but with this he had one great fault, for he was somewhat restless and fickle-minded, which, however, on this occasion proved fortunate for the poor little mouse, and eventually so for himself. His restless disposition had driven him to travel, poor as he was, and thus he came to the village, where witnessing the little creature's distress he released it, by giving the boys a few half-pence, and it instantly took refuge in a hole close by.

In his wanderings he came to another village where he saw a crowd of boys, and, I am sorry to say, there were girls as well, tormenting an inoffensive donkey, which he saved from further molestation by again parting with a little of his scanty stock of money.

Further on he reached another village, where he released a bear from like persecution by giving more money.

Not long after these adventures this good man himself got into trouble, and was condemned by a cruel judge to be put into a box with only a jug of water and one loaf of bread, and thus thrown into the river, though I assure you he was quite innocent.

You may imagine his distress, for he was not very comfortable in his box, nor could he see where he was being carried to, when all at once he felt the box grating against the ground, and then heard a nibbling at the lock, which, after awhile, gave way, and when he raised the lid was delighted to see his three friends, the Mouse, the Ass, and the Bear, who now helped him in return for his kindness to them.

They were not satisfied with merely saving his life, for they knew that he was poor, and had, moreover, spent some of his money to save them; so they were consulting together what they could do for him, when the bear espied a white stone come floating along. "Nothing could happen more fortunate," the Bear cried, "for here comes the lucky stone, and whoever has that will have all his wishes fulfilled on the instant."

The man, hearing this, seized the stone as it was passing, and wished himself in a palace with every comfort and luxury, surrounded by beautiful grounds; and the next instant all was as he had wished. Now, dazzled by so much splendour, and happy beyond anything he had ever dreamt of, he forgot his friends, the Mouse, the Ass, and the Bear, though, I have no doubt, he would have thought of them sooner or later and wished them with him; but before this fault was remedied misfortune came upon him.

It so happened that some merchants passed that way, and seeing a magnificent palace, where before there had only been barren land, they were seized with wonder and curiosity, so they went in and asked the owner how he had worked such a truly wonderful change. "I had only to wish for it," was the answer. They marvelled at this, as well they might; and being told that it was by means of the lucky stone his wish had been fulfilled, they offered all their merchandize for the stone.

Our friend, whose head, it must be confessed, was not as good as his heart, seeing so many beautiful things, agreed to the bargain at once, without thinking that he need only wish and he could have all those and more beautiful things. He gave the merchants the stone; and it was no sooner out of his hands than he found himself in his former position, which was rendered worse when he compared all the splendour and comfort he had lost to his ugly comfortless box, with only a jug of water and one loaf.

His friends, however, did not desert him in his distress, but this time they could not open the box; and, after consulting, the Bear said, "I see we cannot do any good without the lucky stone, so let us go to the palace where the merchants now live and try to get it." This was agreed upon; and when they got there they held another council. The bear seems to have had the wisest head, for he was again spokesman, and said, "It is useless for us to expect to be let in here; but you, my friend Mrs. Mouse, you can creep through anywhere--see, there is just a little hole at the bottom of the door. Go in, and, as only one of the merchants is now at home, worry him in every possible way, for you can always manage to escape; and when you have worked him into a perfect fury lead him here to the door, and no doubt he will open it to rush out after you. Then we two will go in and easily master him between us. Only you take care to find out where he keeps the stone."

The mouse got through the hole in the door without difficulty; and, after finding out where the stone was, went in search of the merchant, whom she found in bed. She crept in at the bottom and began nibbling at his toes. The merchant jumped up in a fright, but when he saw the mouse his fright turned to rage, and he made a snatch at it; but the little thing was too quick for him: and now began a chase all round the bed-room, round every table and chair, and into every corner of the next room, and, finally, into the hall, where, jumping up and biting him in the calf of the leg, in order to exasperate him still more, she slipped through the hole she had got in at.

The merchant threw open the door, and the bear, who was ready, greeted him with the closest embrace. They rolled down together, but the bear soon hugged all the breath out of him, and leaving him in charge of the donkey went with the mouse to fetch the stone. No sooner had they this in their possession than the three went off, regardless of the confusion they left behind them.

They soon reached the water-side; but the box was floating in deep water, and the Donkey said, in despair--

"We shall never get at it."

The Bear, however, cried, "Nonsense, leave that to me, I can swim well enough, so you, Donkey, just put your fore-feet round my neck, and take the stone in your mouth, but mind you don't swallow it; and you, my little Friend, can make yourself snug somewhere in my long hair."

All being satisfactorily arranged, off they set, but were destined to meet with a misfortune on their voyage; for the bear, who was rather fond of hearing himself talk, could not refrain from expatiating on the past adventure.

"We managed that pretty well, I flatter myself. What is your opinion, my long-eared Friend?" And as the donkey made no answer he continued--

"How is this? I was always taught that a civil question deserves a civil answer; but this does not seem to enter into your notions of politeness. Who taught you manners, my Friend?"

The donkey could stand it no longer, but opened his mouth, and out fell the stone "plop" into the water.

"There, you see what comes of your talking. Could you not wait till our work was finished? How could I open my mouth without losing the stone? And now it is gone, and with it all hope of helping our friend."

"Well, well, my good Fellow," the Bear interrupted him, for he was not anxious to hear any more, as he felt himself in the wrong, "a moment's action is better than an hour's regret. I have a bright idea that will put all right again. Let us go back, and I'll set about it at once."

On the way back the bear called up all the frogs that were in those parts, and said to them, "Fetch me up as many stones as possible from the bottom of the water, for I have an idea of building you a place of refuge in case of danger."

A loud croaking was immediately heard, which called the frogs from all parts; and they set about collecting stones without loss of time.

It was not long before the lucky stone was added to the heap, which the bear immediately seized; and telling the frogs that there were now stones enough, the three friends started off again.

They soon reached the box, which now opened without difficulty, and the poor prisoner was relieved; but only just in time, for the loaf of bread was consumed, and he began to suffer from want.

As soon as he had the stone in his hand he wished himself back in the palace, which he found just as he had left it. This time he did not forget his friends, and they lived happily together to the end of their days.

Now, does not this story prove that an act of kindness meets with its reward, and that the ungrateful are worse than the brute beasts, for our three good animals effectually showed their gratitude?

Tim Jarvis was as decent and hardworking a man as any one could wish to know, till the evil spirit got astride his imagination. Tim was not only a decent, hardworking man, but recollected his early lessons, that the evil one should be resisted with might and main.

Nor was it during the day that the enemy, at first, attempted to gain any advantage; but it was at night that he mainly worked upon his mind by means of dreams.

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