CHAPTER I
HOW THE AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM OF THE BLACK BROTHERS WAS INTERFERED WITHBY SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE
In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was in old time avalley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It wassurrounded on all sides by steep and rocky mountains rising into peakswhich were always covered with snow and from which a number of torrentsdescended in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward over theface of a crag so high that when the sun had set to everything else,and all below was darkness, his beams still shone full upon thiswaterfall, so that it looked like a shower of gold. It was thereforecalled by the people of the neighborhood the Golden River. It wasstrange that none of these streams fell into the valley itself. Theyall descended on the other side of the mountains and wound away throughbroad plains and by populous cities. But the clouds were drawn soconstantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in the circularhollow, that in time of drought and heat, when all the country roundwas burned up, there was still rain in the little valley; and its cropswere so heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so red, and itsgrapes so blue, and its wine so rich, and its honey so sweet, that itwas a marvel to everyone who beheld it and was commonly called theTreasure Valley.
The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, calledSchwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyeswhich were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into THEM andalways fancied they saw very far into YOU. They lived by farming theTreasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killedeverything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirdsbecause they pecked the fruit, and killed the hedgehogs lest theyshould suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbsin the kitchen, and smothered the cicadas which used to sing all summerin the lime trees. They worked their servants without any wages tillthey would not work any more, and then quarreled with them and turnedthem out of doors without paying them. It would have been very odd ifwith such a farm and such a system of farming they hadn't got veryrich; and very rich they DID get. They generally contrived to keeptheir corn by them till it was very dear, and then sell it for twiceits value; they had heaps of gold lying about on their floors, yet itwas never known that they had given so much as a penny or a crust incharity; they never went to Mass, grumbled perpetually at payingtithes, and were, in a word, of so cruel and grinding a temper as toreceive from all those with whom they had any dealings the nickname ofthe "Black Brothers."
The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in bothappearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imaginedor desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, andkind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agreeparticularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did not agreewith HIM. He was usually appointed to the honorable office ofturnspit, when there was anything to roast, which was not often, for,to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing uponthemselves than upon other people. At other times he used to clean theshoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what wasleft on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dryblows by way of education.
Things went on in this manner for a long time. At last came a very wetsummer, and everything went wrong in the country round. The hay hadhardly been got in when the haystacks were floated bodily down to thesea by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the hail; thecorn was all killed by a black blight. Only in the Treasure Valley, asusual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain nowhere else,so it had sun when there was sun nowhere else. Everybody came to buycorn at the farm and went away pouring maledictions on the BlackBrothers. They asked what they liked and got it, except from the poorpeople, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at theirvery door without the slightest regard or notice.
It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when one day thetwo elder brothers had gone out, with their usual warning to littleGluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let nobody in andgive nothing out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it wasraining very hard and the kitchen walls were by no means dry orcomfortable-looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got nice andbrown. "What a pity," thought Gluck, "my brothers never ask anybody todinner. I'm sure, when they've got such a nice piece of mutton asthis, and nobody else has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it woulddo their hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them."
Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door, yet heavyand dull, as though the knocker had been tied up--more like a puff thana knock.
"It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else would venture to knockdouble knocks at our door."
No, it wasn't the wind; there it came again very hard, and, what wasparticularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry and not tobe in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went to the window,opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.
It was the most extraordinary-looking little gentleman he had ever seenin his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-colored; hischeeks were very round and very red, and might have warranted asupposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire for the lasteight-and-forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long, silkyeyelashes; his mustaches curled twice round like a corkscrew on eachside of his mouth; and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-saltcolor, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four feet six inheight and wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,decorated with a black feather some three feet long. His doublet wasprolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration ofwhat is now termed a "swallowtail," but was much obscured by theswelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which musthave been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistlinground the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shouldersto about four times his own length.
Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the singular appearance of hisvisitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until the oldgentleman, having performed another and a more energetic concerto onthe knocker, turned round to look after his flyaway cloak. In so doinghe caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the window,with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.
"Hollo!" said the little gentleman; "that's not the way to answer thedoor. I'm wet; let me in."
To do the little gentleman justice, he WAS wet. His feather hung downbetween his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella,and from the ends of his mustaches the water was running into hiswaistcoat pockets and out again like a mill stream.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but, I really can't."
"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.
"I can't let you in, sir--I can't, indeed; my brothers would beat me todeath, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"
"Want?" said the old gentleman petulantly. "I want fire and shelter,and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing onthe walls with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I only want towarm myself."
Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that hebegan to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned andsaw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring and throwing long, brighttongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the savorysmell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it shouldbe burning away for nothing. "He does look very wet," said littleGluck; "I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round he wentto the door and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, therecame a gust of wind through the house that made the old chimneys totter.
"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind yourbrothers. I'll talk to them."
"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let youstay till they come; they'd be the death of me."
"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm very sorry to hear that. Howlong may I stay?"
"Only till the mutton's done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's verybrown."
Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen and sat himself down onthe hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for itwas a great deal too high for the roof.
"You'll soon dry there, sir," said Gluck, and sat down again to turnthe mutton. But the old gentleman did NOT dry there, but went on drip,drip, dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed and sputtered andbegan to look very black and uncomfortable. Never was such a cloak;every fold in it ran like a gutter.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck at length, after watching the waterspreading in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor for aquarter of an hour; "mayn't I take your cloak?"
"No, thank you," said the old gentleman.
"Your cap, sir?"
"I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman rather gruffly.
"But--sir--I'm very sorry," said Gluck hesitatingly, "but--really,sir--you're--putting the fire out."
"It'll take longer to do the mutton, then," replied his visitor dryly.
Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of his guest; it was such astrange mixture of coolness and humility. He turned away at the stringmeditatively for another five minutes.
"That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentleman at length."Can't you give me a little bit?"
"Impossible, sir," said Gluck.
"I'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman. "I've had nothing toeat yesterday nor to-day. They surely couldn't miss a bit from theknuckle!"
He spoke in so very melancholy a tone that it quite melted Gluck'sheart. "They promised me one slice to-day, sir," said he; "I can giveyou that, but not a bit more."
"That's a good boy," said the old gentleman again.
Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. "I don't care if I doget beaten for it," thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice outof the mutton there came a tremendous rap at the door. The oldgentleman jumped off the hob as if it had suddenly becomeinconveniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again,with desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the door.
"What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?" said Schwartz, as hewalked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face.
"Aye! what for, indeed, you little vagabond?" said Hans, administeringan educational box on the ear as he followed his brother into thekitchen.
"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz when he opened the door.
"Amen," said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off and wasstanding in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possiblevelocity.
"Who's that?" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin and turning toGluck with a fierce frown.
"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck in great terror.
"How did he get in?" roared Schwartz.
"My dear brother," said Gluck deprecatingly, "he was so VERY wet!"
The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head, but, at the instant,the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed witha shock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What wasvery odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out ofSchwartz's hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell intothe corner at the further end of the room.
"Who are you, sir?" demanded Schwartz, turning upon him. "What's yourbusiness?" snarled Hans.
"I'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman began very modestly,"and I saw your fire through the window and begged shelter for aquarter of an hour."
"Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said Schwartz. "We'vequite enough water in our kitchen without making it a drying house."
"It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my grayhairs." They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.
"Aye!" said Hans; "there are enough of them to keep you warm. Walk!"
"I'm very, very hungry, sir; couldn't you spare me a bit of breadbefore I go?"
"Bread, indeed!" said Schwartz; "do you suppose we've nothing to dowith our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?"
"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans sneeringly. "Out with you!"
"A little bit," said the old gentleman.
"Be off!" said Schwartz.
"Pray, gentlemen."
"Off, and be hanged!" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But hehad no sooner touched the old gentleman's collar than away he wentafter the rolling-pin, spinning round and round till he fell into thecorner on the top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry and ran at theold gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him whenaway he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head againstthe wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay, allthree.
Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the oppositedirection, continued to spin until his long cloak was all wound neatlyabout him, clapped his cap on his head, very much on one side (for itcould not stand upright without going through the ceiling), gave anadditional twist to his corkscrew mustaches, and replied with perfectcoolness: "Gentlemen, I wish you a very good morning. At twelveo'clock tonight I'll call again; after such a refusal of hospitality asI have just experienced, you will not be surprised if that visit is thelast I ever pay you."
"If ever I catch you here again," muttered Schwartz, coming, halffrightened, out of the corner--but before he could finish his sentencethe old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a great bang,and there drove past the window at the same instant a wreath of raggedcloud that whirled and rolled away down the valley in all manner ofshapes, turning over and over in the air and melting away at last in agush of rain.
"A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!" said Schwartz. "Dish themutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again--bless me, why,the mutton's been cut!"
"You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said Gluck.
"Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all thegravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again. Leavethe room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar till Icall you."
Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much muttonas they could, locked the rest in the cupboard, and proceeded to getvery drunk after dinner.
Such a night as it was! Howling wind and rushing rain, withoutintermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up allthe shutters and double-bar the door before they went to bed. Theyusually slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve they wereboth awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with aviolence that shook the house from top to bottom.
"What's that?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.
"Only I," said the little gentleman.
The two brothers sat up on their bolster and stared into the darkness.The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which found itsway through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the midst of it anenormous foam globe, spinning round and bobbing up and down like acork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined the little oldgentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it now, for theroof was off.
"Sorry to incommode you," said their visitor ironically. "I'm afraidyour beds are dampish. Perhaps you had better go to your brother'sroom; I've left the ceiling on there."
They required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wetthrough and in an agony of terror.
"You'll find my card on the kitchen table," the old gentleman calledafter them. "Remember, the LAST visit."
"Pray Heaven it may!" said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globedisappeared.
Dawn came at last, and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's littlewindow in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin anddesolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle,and left in their stead a waste of red sand and gray mud. The twobrothers crept s
hivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The waterhad gutted the whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movablething, had been swept away, and there was left only a small white cardon the kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters,were engraved the words:
SOUTH WEST WIND, ESQUIRE