Fairy Tales from the German Forests Part 2

On closer examination, they found a little lion imprinted on each which proved them without doubt to be of real silver.

"I shall sell them at once, or they may vanish away," she said.

"I should strongly advise you not to do so," her husband replied, and the children said, "Oh Mother, do let us keep them always, they are so beautiful?"

"But of what use are they?" said the incorrigible mother who, you see, was not yet quite cured.

Meanwhile the story was noised abroad that Hansi had found a treasure in the forest.

The very next day, Christmas Day, as they were eating their goose, stuffed with apples, there was a ring at the bell--in walked a very pompous Prussian policeman with fierce moustaches.

"Mrs Herzchen here?" he asked abruptly.

"What do _you_ want?" asked that lady, much indignant at being disturbed during her Christmas dinner.

"Young person answering to the name of Hansi Herzchen here?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, that's me," said Hansi, rising and curtsying, and growing very red.

The policeman produced a paper in which he entered all sorts of memoranda.

"_Age and date of birth?_" he demanded of Hansi.

"Seven years old, _of course_," answered Hansi. "My birthday is on February 27th, if you want to know. It was on a Sunday last year."

"That's beside the question." He looked severe.

"February 27th, 1897," said Hansi, prompted by her mother.

_Residence--temporary or otherwise ----._

_Baptism ---- date of ----._

_Vaccinated ----._

All these facts Hansi's mother supplied at once. They are so constantly demanded in Germany that she had them always ready at hand, tied up in seven different packets for each child.

_Married or single?_

Here Hansi giggled, and he entered solemnly the word "_spinster_."

"Is that something _horrid_?" asked Hansi anxiously.

"No, it only means unmarried," said Paul laughing. "_What_ a fool he is!"

_Occupation?_

"Please sir, I go to school and learn my lessons, but I play a good deal too."

"We will write 'spinster,'" he said, frowning fiercely.

"Now listen to me, child, if you do not wish to go to prison." The whole family shuddered with horror.

"Take all those silver things off the tree. They are 'found treasure,'

and belong to the State. You ought to have declared them at once, and saved me all this trouble," he said.

Hansi began to cry.

Mrs Herzchen was very angry, "Why don't you mind your own business?" she said. "These things are our property. You will come and demand the clothes off our backs next."

"Be thankful that I do not accuse you of _stealing_ these valuables,"

answered the fellow in a terrible voice.

"But are you sure they are not chocolate after all?" he said. "They look remarkably like it, covered with silver paper, you know."

He examined them carefully and ejaculating, "Well, I never," tossed them all into a leather wallet that he had brought with him.

Mrs Herzchen poured forth such a storm of abuse, that he threatened her with an action for libel; but she literally turned him out of doors. Her parting words were: "Get out! Go along and make a fool of yourself if you like."

Some days afterwards, the man took his treasures to the office and gave them up with a self-important flourish, only to be laughed at for his pains. The cones were just common, ordinary fir cones, and the silver fish had turned into little dead trout, smelling very unpleasant.

He chucked them all away in the street, and this was an episode in his dignified career that he did not like to be reminded of.

Although Hansi's mother still always preferred useful things to artistic and ornamental ones, still she realised that the useful and ornamental may often be combined, and as she dearly loved her children, and saved up money merely on their account, she determined that they should have a merry Christmas every year, without any special help from the kind little Heinzelmen.

And did Hansi give the cake to her dwarf friends as she had promised to do? Why, of course, she did. The children went all together to the forest on New Year's Eve, and found the actual spot where the tree had stood. They placed a large piece of cake on the old stump. But they did not see the Heinzelmen or even the squirrel, although they repeated seven times seven is forty-nine in the hope of attracting them.

Now a dear little Heinzelman, whom I met out for a walk, told me this story "himself"; but he vanished at this point, and so must I. I wish Hansi and all her brothers and sisters a very merry Christmas, and so, I am sure, do you.

THE ENGINEER AND THE DWARFS

A tunnel had been dug through a crag which had hitherto been considered as a serious obstacle in the railway route; the light now shone through at the farther end. There was a shout of joy from the tired workmen. The air had been stifling in the tunnel; the work was hard and dangerous; several men had been killed in detaching portions of rock that had been loosened by dynamite. It was a great relief to have got through. Now the walls would have to be made smooth with cement--indeed the men had already begun this work at the other end--and the tunnel tested for greater security. Then the express train could run through directly, instead of being obliged to shunt backwards and forwards in a way that made it very uncomfortable for people who did not like sitting with their backs to the engine.

The young engineer, Karl Hammerstein, who had been supervising the men's work, was glad enough to find himself in the fresh air. His head ached violently, the oppression of the atmosphere had well-nigh overpowered him.

The mountain was clothed on this side with tall forest trees; the drooping firs offered an inviting shade. It was seven o'clock in the evening, the men were packing up their tools to go home. They would be obliged to march back through the tunnel; for there was no way round, except through the wildest forest with a tangled undergrowth of brambles and ferns. But they had their lamps, and did not mind the tunnel; it was familiar enough to them, who had worked in it for months.

Meanwhile Karl, who was dead-beat, stretched himself out under the trees, covered himself with his cloak, and fell fast asleep, meaning only to rest a minute or two, before he also set off home.

It was late when he awoke; the full moon was shining. He felt quite dazed. Where could he be?

He had slept in many queer little rooms when he was travelling; but they always had a window and a door. Where was the window? Ugh--he shivered--it was cold. Then an unreasoning terror took hold of him: he was only half-awake as yet. What could that dreadful gap be in the wall of his room, blacker than the darkness? Surely it was a bogey hole leading down to the bottomless pit? The next minute he laughed at his fears, as we usually do when we come safely out of nightmare land and feel the earth--or bed beneath us again.