Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
General
Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
German fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories
“Well,” continued Michel, “I will not stand upon trifles, you would not
be the first honest good fellow whom I have assisted at a pinch. Tell
me, how many hundred thalers do you want for the present?” shaking the
money in his huge pocket, as he said this, so that it jingled just as
Peter had heard it in his dream. But Peter’s heart felt a kind of
painful convulsion at these words, and he was cold and hot alternately;
for Michel did not look as if he would give away money out of charity,
without asking any thing in return. The old man’s mysterious words
about rich people occurred to him, and urged by an inexplicable anxiety
and fear, he cried “Much obliged to you, sir, but I will have nothing
to do with you and know you well,” and at the same time he began to run
as fast as he could. The wood spirit, however, strode by his side with
immense steps, murmuring and threatening “You will yet repent it,
Peter, it is written on your forehead and to be read in your eyes that
you will not escape me. Do not run so fast, listen only to a single
rational word; there is my boundary already.” But Peter, hearing this
and seeing at a little distance before him a small ditch, hastened the
more to pass this boundary, so that Michel was obliged at length to run
faster, cursing and threatening while pursuing him. With a desperate
leap Peter cleared the ditch, for he saw that the Wood-spirit was
raising his pole to dash it upon him; having fortunately reached the
other side, he heard the pole shatter to pieces in the air as if
against an invisible wall, and a long piece fell down at his feet.
He picked it up in triumph to throw it at the rude Michel; but in an
instant he felt the piece of wood move in his hand, and, to his horror,
perceived that he held an enormous serpent, which was raising itself up
towards his face with its venomous tongue and glistening eyes. He let
go his hold, but it had already twisted itself tight round his arm and
came still closer to his face with its vibrating head; at this instant,
however, an immense black cock rushed down, seized the head of the
serpent with its beak, and carried it up in the air. Michel, who had
observed all this from the other side of the ditch, howled, cried, and
raved when he saw the serpent carried away by one more powerful than
himself.
Exhausted and trembling, Peter continued his way; the path became
steeper, the country wilder, and soon he found himself before the large
pine. He again made a bow to the invisible glass-mannikin, as he had
done the day before, and said,
“Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine,
Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place,
Those born on Sunday see thy face.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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