THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 DR. MUM BUDGET'S DOOR-PLATK.
 
 THE SOCK STOKIES, 
 
 BY "AUNT FANNY'S" DAUGHTER. 
 
 FUNNY BIG SOCKS: 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE SEEKS. 
 
 BY 
 
 "AUNT FANNY'S" DAUGHTER, 
 
 THE AUTIIOB OF "THE LITTLE WHITE ANGEL." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 LEAVITT & ALLEN, 21 & 23 MERCER ST. 
 
 1863.
 
 EirrEBED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by 
 
 8. L. BARROW, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for tha 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 JOHN F. TROW, 
 
 PRISTIE, SWBOTYFEB, AMD ELICTOTTTI, 
 60 Greene Street, New York.
 
 AlFJt 
 
 TO 
 
 THAT GENIAL GOOD MAN 
 AND PROFOUND PHILOSOPHER, 
 
 THE REV. DR. S. I. PRIME, 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS 
 
 BOOK. 
 
 22807
 
 CONTENTS OF YOL, Y. 
 
 MM 
 
 STORM STORIES, 7 
 
 THE CABBAGES, 42 
 
 THE GOLD STONE, 75 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR, .... 108
 
 STORM STORIES. 
 
 FIRST EVENING. 
 
 How it did rain, to be sure ! Up 
 the long street, and down the long 
 street nothing was to be seen but large 
 mud puddles, while the gutter ran like 
 a little river, and gushed with a loud 
 sound into the sewer mouth. 
 
 That was a rain indeed! but in 
 the warm rooms it was comfortable 
 enough. Books and pretty pictures 
 lined the walls on all sides but one, 
 where the large window was, the re-r
 
 8 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 cess filled with blooming flowers ; they 
 smelt so sweetly ! 
 
 There, at a table that was covered 
 with a green cloth, sat a literary man. 
 His head was bowed upon his arms, 
 and when he raised his face, one saw 
 that he was so sad and pale ! The 
 poor literary man was quite unhappy. 
 
 If one could have crept into his 
 heart (like him who owned the " Ga- 
 loshes of Fortune "), one would have 
 seen that his thoughts ran, " Ah me ! 
 how unhappy I am. I write books 
 about the good and the beautiful, but 
 nobody buys them ; no one cares to 
 read of such things. If I could but 
 tell them a tale, now, something lively 
 or pathetic, like the poet Baggesen or 
 our own Hoffman, that they all like.
 
 STORM STORIES. 9 
 
 Nay, then, what a weary life it is ! " 
 and lie leaned back in his arm chair, 
 and closed his eyes. 
 
 Suddenly, something came hissing 
 down the chimney into the stove. It 
 was two or three rain drops driven in 
 by the wind. Something else appeared 
 to have entered with them, for there 
 was a rustle and breeze in the cham- 
 ber, and then the literary man heard 
 a whisper quite close to his ear. 
 
 "Thou silly fellow!" cried the 
 wind, for that it was, "to sit in thy 
 chamber with closed doors, w r aiting 
 for the story to come to thee ! Nay, 
 then, what is there in thy books half 
 so clever or amusing as what one sees 
 in real life ? Listen, now, and I will 
 tell thee what I saw one moonlight
 
 10 FUNNY. BIG SOCKS. 
 
 night as I blew over this wide German 
 land/' 
 
 THE STORY OF THE WIND. 
 
 IN summer, all the world of Leip- 
 sic goes out of town, to Baden or 
 Ems. Those who can afford it run 
 over the Alps, to sunny Italy ; but in 
 winter ah ! then it is very different ! 
 
 One is glad enough, then, to re- 
 main at home by the warm stove ; or 
 if one goes out, one must be well 
 wrapped up in furs and cloaks. 
 
 The little boys slide and skate on 
 the frozen river ; the poorer folks go 
 about in sledges, and the rich in splen- 
 did sleighs, with white fur robes and 
 capering horses, which have little 
 bells tied to their manes and tails.
 
 STORM STORIES. 11 
 
 Just such a sleigh as this stood, one 
 bright moonlight night, before the door 
 of the Burgomaster Yon Geirstein, in 
 the good town of Leipsic. The whole 
 family were going in a body out of 
 town, and now the hall door opened, 
 and forth came the fat and stupid 
 Burgomaster himself, with his fat and 
 silly wife on his arm, followed by their 
 pretty, blue-eyed daughter, Matilda, 
 and her lover, Walther Von Blumen- 
 wald, a thriving young merchant. 
 Her brother, Max, came last, a merry, 
 good-natured young fellow, but who, 
 certainly, was not very wise. 
 
 Max took the driver's place ; the 
 others seated themselves within the 
 large sleigh, and tucked the warm fur 
 robes around them, and then, with a
 
 12 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 crack of the whip, and a loud huzzah 
 from the young men, the sleigh glided 
 swiftly away. 
 
 ! About five miles from the town, in 
 the midst of the forest, was a large inn 
 of the better sort, which had lately 
 become a favorite resort of the 
 wealthy who went sleighing in the 
 winter. Balls, even, were given there, 
 and there one got the most delicious 
 mulled wine and Westphalia hams, and 
 all sorts of ale, " Bremen," " Prysing/' 
 " Emser ale," even " Brunswick Mum- 
 me." To this hotel, then, our party 
 were bound. 
 
 Merrily rang the bells, swiftly flew 
 the sleigh over the frozen snow, and 
 as they passed out at the city gates, the 
 whole party broke into a joyous glee :
 
 STORM STOKIES. 13 
 
 " Listen, listen, listen to the merry sleigh bells ! 
 How they jingle, jingle, ever blithe and ever clear, 
 
 "With a tintinnabulation that so musically wells 
 As it thrills, and it thrills upon the ear ! 
 Every dancing little note 
 Seems to gurgle from the throat 
 
 Of a bird, that in its happy song so eloquently tells 
 The joy it is to bound 
 O'er the cold and frozen ground, 
 
 To the ringing and the clinging of the bells ! 
 
 " Listen, listen, listen to the merry sleigh bells ! 
 
 How they jingle, jingle, as the horses dash along ; 
 What a story of our gladness their enticing music tells 
 As it chimes and it rhymes with the song ! 
 
 Such a rollicking delight 
 
 Bubbles out upon the night 
 As their joy -creating burthen over hill and valley swells. 
 
 Every voice must join the tune 
 
 As we skim beneath the moon 
 To the tinkling and the twinkling of the bells ! " 
 
 The sleigh had now turned out of 
 the high road, and entered the forest.
 
 14 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 For some time the way lay plain be- 
 fore them, but at length came a fork, 
 where two roads met. 
 
 "Now, then," exclaimed Max, 
 " which way ? Blumenwald, thou 
 hast been to Ole's before must I take 
 the right hand or the left ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, I have forgot- 
 ten ! " exclaimed Walther. " It was 
 a dark night when I drove out with 
 my cousins ; but, it appears to me, 
 upon the whole, that we took the 
 right hand road." 
 
 "Well, we can only try," said 
 Max; "at least, if we don't get to 
 Ole's, we shall have had a merry sleigh 
 ride." 
 
 He shook the reins, and the impa- 
 tient horses darted off; but, my stars!
 
 STOKM STORIES. 15 
 
 they had taken the wrong road! 
 Deeper grew the wood ; the roughness 
 of the path momentarily increased ; 
 the trees became so thick that the 
 moonlight no longer penetrated them, 
 and Max at length stopped his horses 
 once more, and gazed around him in 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " Potstausend ! " exclaimed the 
 Burgomaster; "where has the boy 
 taken us ? I tell you what, mein sonne, 
 thou hadst best turn back, for we 
 shall never get to Ole's to-night." 
 
 " And thy sister will take her death 
 of cold ! " cried the Frau Yon Geir- 
 stein, while Walther looked anxiously 
 at the fair Matilda, who only smiled 
 up at him, and drew her fur-lined 
 hood more closely about her face.
 
 16 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 Just as they were about to turn 
 back, they heard a sound of sleigh- 
 bells behind, and presently a small 
 sleigh approached them, drawn by a 
 spirited horse. 
 
 Max, without more ado, hailed the 
 stranger, and begged him to set them, 
 if he could, on the road to Ole's. 
 
 The new comer bowed courteously 
 to the ladies, and replied, " I shall be 
 most happy to direct you thither, my 
 respectable friends. In short, then, 
 you follow the road before you for a 
 time, then turn to your right; next, 
 pursue your way in a southeast direc- 
 tion for a mile ; next, turn toward the 
 northwest, and then ' 
 
 " What, sir ! " interrupted Max, 
 "do you suppose we can go to all
 
 STORM STORIES. 17 
 
 points of the compass at once ? What 
 do you mean by your northwest and 
 southeast ? " 
 
 " Potstausend ! is the fellow mak- 
 ing fun of us ? " exclaimed the Burgo- 
 master. 
 
 "Surely the Herr Von Geirstein 
 cannot suppose I would be guilty of 
 so great an impertinence ! " exclaimed 
 the stranger. " It is true, the road is 
 somewhat obscure ; may I not also 
 have the pleasure of driving you to 
 Ole's?" 
 
 "We thank you you aro most 
 kind/' replied the mollified Burgomas- 
 ter, who never doubted for a moment 
 that his vast importance caused him 
 to be known to all the world ; " but 
 what will become of your sledge ? " 
 
 v. 2
 
 18 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " Oh, I don't fear for the sledge 
 that can remain here among the un- 
 derwood ; and my horse can be at- 
 tached in front of yours/' 
 
 This arrangement was soon effect- 
 ed, and the stranger, who was so 
 muffled up in fur cap and coat, that 
 scarcely a feature could be distin- 
 guished, mounted beside Max, and 
 seized the reins. 
 
 Donnerwetter ! how he shouted at 
 the horses ! cracking his whip, and 
 calling them all manner of strange 
 names. "Now, then, pig with a 
 wooden head ! Get along with you, 
 toad of serpents ! To the mischief with 
 the whole team ! " till the foam flew 
 on all sides, the iron-clad heels of the 
 steeds rang like hammer upon anvil
 
 STORM STORIES. 19 
 
 on the frozen ground, and sparks 
 scintillated in the air ! 
 
 Meanwhile, however, the effect of 
 this rapid motion on the Burgomas- 
 ter's family was anything but exhilar- 
 ating. Now that the bustle of setting 
 out was at an end, they one and all 
 began to feel afraid of their strange 
 guide, and to think there was some- 
 thing more than common in their ad- 
 venture. 
 
 "He's a very odd-looking man, 
 after all," whispered the Burgomas- 
 ter's wife; "how do we know what 
 sort of a fellow he is, and if he is tak- 
 ing us to Ole's at all ? I, for my part, 
 believe he's in league with some rob- 
 ber band, and we shall all be mur- 
 dered."
 
 20 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " Potstausend ! it looks very much 
 like it ! " exclaimed the Burgomaster, 
 who, although so big a man, was 
 mighty chicken-hearted. " I wish 
 Max had not been so confoundedly 
 hasty in accepting his advice." 
 
 " I beg thy pardon there, father- 
 in-law," returned Walther; "it was 
 thou who bade him come in." 
 
 The Burgomaster was about to 
 make some peppery reply, when Max 
 suddenly broke upon the whispered 
 conversation by exclaiming : 
 
 " Since you are so good, sir, as to 
 drive us, perhaps you will inform us 
 to whom we are obliged." 
 
 But the stranger, who, before this, 
 had been the noisiest of the party, ap-
 
 STORM STORIES. 21 
 
 peared to have become suddenly 
 dumb, for he answered not a word. 
 
 "Come, sir/' repeated Walther ; 
 " tell us who you are." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 Max now half jumped from his 
 seat, exclaiming, " But we insist on 
 knowing, sir, and, furthermore, I 
 should like to know if you are taking 
 us to Ole's or not." 
 
 The stranger turned at this, and 
 with a smile that displayed his glitter- 
 ing teeth, replied : 
 
 "My good people, I am taking 
 you just where you are destined to 
 go. As to my name, that is my affair. 
 Remember, your safety depends on 
 me; certainly, you had better not 
 provoke me, or " here his speech
 
 22 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 suddenly came to an end, and a fresh 
 series of yells followed to the excited 
 horses, which all this time were tearing 
 along as though a troop of fiends were 
 in pursuit. 
 
 " It must be the Evil One himself! " 
 cried the Burgomaster, trembling in 
 every limb, while the ladies screamed 
 and clung together. 
 
 " Not quite so bad as that, I hope," 
 said Walther, half laughing, yet ex- 
 cited, and, to tell the truth, somewhat 
 alarmed also. 
 
 " We are all fools if we allow this 
 thing to go on ! " shouted Max, who 
 had suddenly recovered his spirits. 
 " Walther, thou wilt stand by me. 
 Give me the reins, sir, or hold them 
 longer at your peril ! "
 
 STORM STORIES. 23 
 
 As he spoke, he endeavored to 
 seize the reins, while Walther stood 
 up in the sleigh and grasped the whip. 
 
 All at once the stranger let fall the 
 reins, and as they trailed on the 
 ground, he snatched the whip from 
 Walther's hand, gave a sudden leap 
 into the air, and vaulted on the back 
 of the near horse, where he sat at 
 ease, and drove postillion, without 
 their being able to help themselves. 
 
 " Alas, we have no arms ! " groaned 
 the Burgomaster ; "we may as well 
 be resigned to our fate. Kiss me, my 
 children ; you may never kiss your old 
 papa again ! n 
 
 On this, the whole quartette fell to 
 weeping, blowing their noses most 
 earnestly from time to time, when,
 
 BIG aOQDL 
 
 just as their grief was at its height, 
 and they were fairly sobbing in each 
 others arms, a sound of music broke 
 upon their ears! The next moment 
 lights gleamed through the trees, the 
 sleigh took a sharp turn, passed 
 through an open gate, and drew up 
 before the very door of Ole's ! For, 
 in reality, both roads led to the inn, 
 although one was much more in- 
 tricate and less frequented than the 
 other. 
 
 The Yon Geirsteins were for a mo- 
 ment too much astounded to speak. 
 Then the mysterious driver, swinging 
 himself lightly off his horse, and doff- 
 ing his fur cap, showing them a face 
 not only handsome, but perfectly fa- 
 miliar to them exclaimed :
 
 STORM STORIES. 25 
 
 " Ton see, my dear friends, that it 
 
 / 
 
 was neither a bandit nor His Satanic 
 Majesty who drove yon by the nearest 
 road to a robber's castle or the lower 
 regions, but yonr very good neighbor, 
 Fritz Yon Eisenfeldt, who has had at 
 once the pleasure and amusement of 
 taking you safe and sound to Ole's, 
 after all!" 
 
 As the wind uttered these last 
 words, it whisked up the chimney and 
 disappeared. The literary man sat 
 upright in his chair with a sudden 
 start, and opened his eyes wide. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " he cried, " have 
 I been dreaming, or has the wind 
 really related the tale?" He could 
 not at afl tell this, but he remembered 
 every word of the story, and wrote it
 
 26 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 on yes! this very piece of paper, 
 where you now read it ! 
 
 SECOND EVENING. 
 
 THE following evening the literary 
 man could not but think of the advice 
 of the wind. He went to the window, 
 and looked out on the street, to see if 
 there might not be a story there. 
 
 The houses opposite were as hand- 
 some as on this side of the way, and 
 exactly like them; the gas lamps 
 burned brilliantly, and everything ap- 
 peared as genteel and stupid as could 
 possibly be conceived. " There's not a 
 story to be met with in this part of the 
 town," thought the literary man. " I
 
 STORM STORIES. 27 
 
 must go out, and see if I can find one 
 elsewhere." 
 
 The snow flakes were rapidly fall- 
 ing from the sky, but the literary man 
 wrapped his warm cloak around him, 
 and went bravely out. It is not every 
 one who has courage to go out in the 
 snow ! that is, the snow at Friedrichs- 
 hafen. It is sure to be so wet and 
 cold, with large bits of icy hail among 
 it, covering the ground with a slippery 
 compound, that one cannot step upon 
 without danger of falling. 
 
 However, out he went, and slipped 
 and scrambled along the pavement. 
 Kribbedy, krabbledy, plump ! down 
 he sat on a neighbor's doorstep ; not 
 without exclaiming, " Potstausend ! " 
 
 As he sat there with a rueful coun-
 
 28 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 tenance, the thought passed through 
 his mind, " If, now, the wind would but 
 give rne the least idea how to begin, I 
 might compose a tale while 1 wait for 
 a hackney coach, for walk I won't ! " 
 and he looked up and down the street, 
 but no coach came in sight. 
 
 All at once it was as though a 
 merry voice whispered in his ear 
 yes, the literary man felt sure that the 
 snow said to him " S-o-o ! my good 
 friend, the wind has sent thee to me ! 
 Fie upon thee, that thou canst not 
 compose a tale without help, for all 
 thy learning! Well, pay attention, 
 and I will tell thee some of the frolics 
 of my merry cousin, the Frost. Now, 
 listen." 
 
 And the literary man listened with
 
 STORM STORIES. 29 
 
 all his ears, and quite forgot that he 
 was looking for a hackney coach, and 
 that he was sitting on the steps of his 
 neighbor, the Herr Hartman. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE SNOW, ABOUT 
 CAPTAIN JACK. 
 
 THE children were hurrying home- 
 ward on a cold winter's evening, from 
 the forest, where they had been bind- 
 ing fagots. As they scampered along, 
 some one seized upon them from be- 
 hind and nipped their ears sharply. 
 " Fie, ugly Captain Jack ! " cried they ; 
 " so thou art at work again ! one may 
 easily see that ! " and they would have 
 pursued their spiteful enemy ; but he 
 was already gone, and they were now 
 obliged to hasten onward.
 
 30 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 % 
 
 Captain Jack had slipped back to 
 the forest, and thrown himself stealth- 
 ily on the ground, laughing to see 
 their discomfiture. The moon shone 
 on the spot where he lay, and then all 
 the dried grass appeared white and 
 sparkling, as though it were covered 
 with glistening spray. At one moment 
 one saw him lying gazing at one with 
 laughing eyes ; the next, it seemed as 
 though only the hoar dew rested 
 there, and glittered in the moon- 
 light. 
 
 " Bur-r-r ! " growled the north wind, 
 as he flew through the forest. " Hol- 
 lo ! Captain Jack ; many thanks for 
 the Ice King's message which thou 
 broughtest me. Come, wilt thou ride 
 on my back in return ? "
 
 STORM STORIES. 31 
 
 " Many thanks ! " replied Captain 
 Jack ; " I prefer to travel on foot, and 
 amuse myself by the way." 
 
 " Well, be that as thou wilt ! " re- 
 plied the wind, and he flew off in a 
 huff; for he considered that he had 
 made a very honorable offer, and had 
 been slighted. 
 
 But Captain Jack ran gayly from 
 the forest; taking long strides over 
 the grass, and sowing it with little 
 white pearls, breathing on the bare 
 branches of the trees, and sheathing 
 them in glittering mail, pouncing slyly 
 on stray wayfarers, and pinching their 
 ears and noses till they roared again ! 
 Then Captain Jack laughed ; it sound- 
 ed like the sharp crack of a pistol 
 through the still air.
 
 32 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 By the banks of the river hares 
 were creeping, and complaining bitter- 
 ly of the cold. " Ah ! " said they, " if 
 we could but find a warm hole to 
 creep into, or if we had but thick, 
 curly coats, like the bears ! " 
 
 "Do you think I have a warm 
 coat to give any one ? " quoth Captain 
 Jack, and he breathed on their long- 
 whiskers, which now stood quite 
 stiffly. " Oh hute-tute-tute-tu ! " cried 
 they, hopping up and down with 
 pain ; " oh my toes ! my poor toes ! " 
 
 Captain Jack also danced with 
 merriment ; he had neither soul nor 
 feeling, and couldn't understand being 
 sorry for any one. 
 
 Over the river, the lights of the 
 town were gleaming. They shone like
 
 STOEM STORIES. 33 
 
 stars that had stooped a little lower 
 from heaven. Captain Jack skipped 
 lightly across the waves rolling so 
 softly from shore to shore, and as he 
 passed, the water smoothed out under 
 his feet; it was as though some one 
 had placed upon it a thin sheet of 
 glass. 
 
 He ran through the silent streets, 
 of the town, where all the world had 
 gone to sleep, and peered in at many 
 casements. Sometimes he beheld the 
 good folks dreaming, with the hard, 
 ugly frown still on their faces which 
 they had worn when they were 
 awake ; and then he slipped into the 
 room yes, a key hole was large 
 enough for him to creep through if he 
 chose! and breathed upon them so, 
 y -3
 
 34: FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 f* 
 
 that they shivered in their beds, in 
 spite of the warm eider down they 
 had tucked around them. " The win- 
 dow was open on a crack," they 
 would say on the following day ; but 
 it needed not a crack for Captain Jack 
 to enter if he thought they deserved 
 it! 
 
 In other chambers he beheld lovely 
 little children, with the faces of an- 
 gels ; or venerable grandsires, with 
 their snowy hair floating over the pil- 
 low, and then he drew the most beau- 
 tiful pictures on the window pane, to 
 amuse them when they should wake. 
 He crept slyly into the larders of 
 thrifty housewives, and, with a touch, 
 made chickens and ducks hanging 
 there, quite stiff and tasteless; he
 
 STOEM STORIES. 35 
 
 skipped to the cistern, and magically 
 rendered the puinp handle immov- 
 able ; he ran about the streets and 
 played tricks with the bright gas 
 lamps, and they went out, as though a 
 puff of wind had blown over them. 
 And, last of all, he ran against a stout 
 Burgomaster, returning homeward 
 from a merry supper, and so pinched 
 the end of his red bottle-nose, that it 
 tingled again ! 
 
 "Til have you taken to prison, 
 you scoundrel ! " roared the Burgo- 
 master ; but how was he to find Cap- 
 tain Jack? Only where a large fire 
 was raging did Captain Jack shrink 
 away in haste ; heat did not seem to 
 agree with him, for he looked strange- 
 ly small and shrunken.
 
 36 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 He was now weary of the city, and 
 hastened lightly to the seaside. In the 
 harbor ships lay at anchor, ice-bound ; 
 and on one of these a young sailor 
 was keeping watch for thieves ; but he 
 saw not Captain Jack coming softly 
 on board, and peering over his shoul- 
 der to see what was written on the 
 paper he held in his hand. A lantern 
 hung from the mast and shed a feeble 
 light on the tear-blistered page, w r here 
 the pious mother implored a blessing 
 on her son. As he read, the young 
 sailor also wept; but Captain Jack 
 had no taste for tears. He breathed 
 on the letter, and the sparkling drops 
 that the reader let fall became beads 
 of ice. The sailor hastily turned, and 
 for a moment fancied he beheld the
 
 STOKM STORIES. 37 
 
 brilliant eyes of Captain Jack gazing 
 upon him ; but the next instant he saw 
 only two glittering icicles, which had 
 formed on the ropes. 
 
 The sea gulls flew in circles round 
 the vessel; late as it was, they still 
 hoped something might be thrown out. 
 Captain Jack caught them by the long 
 feathers of their wings, and they tum- 
 bled on the deck, and hopped stiffly 
 about. " Creesh, creesh ! " cried they ; 
 " it is that villain, Captain Jack, who 
 has served us thus ! Ugh ! how stiff 
 we are ! " 
 
 Crick, crack ! sounded through the 
 air. It was Captain Jack laughing at 
 them. 
 
 " How merry it is in winter ! " he 
 cried. " It is there my uncle, the Ice
 
 38 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 King, holds his court in the palace at 
 the North Pole. The great icebergs 
 come crashing to the very door to do 
 him homage, and the white young 
 lady bears dance the Polonaise so 
 gracefully ! We don't spend a moment 
 in silly thought about anything no ! 
 we frisk and caper about, and even 
 my uncle comes down from his throne 
 and hops around, as well as his age 
 will permit ! and there I have such 
 glorious sport in the long moonlight 
 nights ! " 
 
 " Bur-r-r ! " grumbled the north 
 wind, sweeping by. " Thou hadst bet- 
 ter hurry home, thou silly madcap ! 
 The sun is coming, and he is no friend 
 of thine!" 
 
 " Many thanks ! " cried Captain
 
 STOKM STORIES. 39 
 
 Jack again, with a graceful bow; 
 " I see, truly, that my sport is over for 
 to-nio-ht ! " and he now looked about 
 
 o 
 
 him with mischievous eyes, to see if 
 there were not some last trick that he 
 could play before he fled to his forest 
 cave. But there was no time to lose, 
 for already the round red sun, winking 
 and blinking sleepily behind his bed 
 curtains of red clouds, was rising from 
 the sea ; and, with a sudden leap, Cap- 
 tain Jack flung himself off the ship, 
 and hastened away. 
 
 The river was all covered with 
 ice ; the little hares skipped over it ; 
 in the town everybody was bawling 
 for water, and the pump handles were 
 hard and fast; the Burgomaster had 
 his nose tied up in brown paper and
 
 4:0 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 warm vinegar; the naughty people 
 went about with cricks in their necks 
 and colds in their heads ; while every 
 withered grass blade, every branch of 
 tree and bush, and every pane in the 
 windows, was covered with the beau- 
 tiful, fantastic, glittering handiwork 
 of CAPTAIN JACK FROST ! 
 
 As the story ended, the door above 
 suddenly opened, and the Herr Hart- 
 man himself came out ; and certainly 
 looked somewhat surprised at seeing 
 Ms good friend sitting there on the 
 lower step. 
 
 " Why, my dear Herr Ekstein ! " 
 he exclaimed. " Is anything the mat- 
 ter ? " and he hastened down the steps. 
 
 The literary man jumped up, and 
 saw the Herr holding out his hand.
 
 STORM STORIES. 41 
 
 " Nay, then, my good friend ! " he 
 exclaimed, " I have been hearing the 
 merriest tale ! " 
 
 'But come in! come in!" cried 
 the Herr Hartman. " Some of our 
 friends are with us ; let us spend a so- 
 ciable evening together." 
 
 With a pleased and happy face the 
 literary man entered the house, and 
 the warm room, where the company 
 were assembled; and, amid peals of 
 laughter, related both the story of 
 Captain Jack, and that of the sleigh- 
 ride to Ole's, with the deuse himself 
 as driver !
 
 THE CABBAGES; 
 
 OR, THE DISCREET WIFE. 
 
 IN a remote part of Swabia there 
 once dwelt a rich peasant, who was 
 noted in all the neighborhood for his 
 shrewdness. No one could get the 
 better of him in a bargain, and no 
 man managed his farm with such ex- 
 traordinary success. His crops always 
 seemed to flourish when the whole 
 country round was desolated with the 
 blight ; his hay was sure to be got in 
 the very night before a flood swept
 
 THE CABBAGES. 43 
 
 away the ricks of his neighbors ; his 
 cows gave the most milk, his oxen 
 were the fattest, and his fields the 
 most fruitful of the whole valley. In 
 short, Wise Peter, for so he was 
 called, became wealthy year after 
 year, in a way which made his less 
 fortunate neighbors shake their heads 
 enviously, declaring "that such mar- 
 vellous good luck could only be ob- 
 tained by a bargain with the Evil One, 
 or the assistance of gnomes." When- 
 ever any of these stories came to the 
 ears of Wise Peter, he would smile 
 and say, " Ah ! who knows, indeed ! " 
 but not a word more would he utter. 
 
 Among his other possessions, Wise 
 Peter owned an immense field, which 
 was planted entirely with cabbages.
 
 44 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 If one stood in the middle and gazed 
 around, nothing but cabbages and 
 more cabbages grew, as far as the eye 
 could reach ; and as the fat burghers 
 of the town were all extremely fond 
 of sauerkraut, these were a source 
 of great profit. 
 
 It happened that Peter had a wife 
 as well known for her folly and empty 
 head, as her husband for his sagacity ; 
 and as he was rightly named Wise 
 Peter, so was she equally well called 
 Silly Catharine. How the two came 
 to be united was a mystery to every 
 one ; for certain it is, that Silly Cath- 
 arine had nothing to recommend her 
 to a sensible man, but her being young 
 and pretty. 
 
 Now Silly Catharine, who was as
 
 THE CABBAGES. 45 
 
 witless as she could well be, was fonder 
 of cabbages than anything else in the 
 world. She ate sauerkraut for break- 
 fast, cabbage soup for dinner, fried 
 cabbage for supper, and boiled cab- 
 bage for a noonday treat. Not even 
 the constant scoldings of her husband, 
 or the jeers of the neighbors at her 
 folly, could distress her in any great 
 degree, if she had only plenty of cab- 
 bages. 
 
 One morning, Wise Peter loaded 
 his wagon with grain and started off 
 to sell it at the distant market town, 
 a good day's journey to and from the 
 village. " Now, Catharine/'' he said to 
 his wife as he departed, " I want you 
 to keep your wits about you, such as 
 you possess, while I am gone ; there-
 
 46 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 fore attend to me. You must give or- 
 ders that the men reap the wheat in 
 the large field, take care that the 
 young turkeys do not get among the 
 brambles, and, above all, see that no 
 one enters the little storeroom. They 
 are going to tax every one who is 
 worth five hundred guilders and over ; 
 and as I don't choose to give my hard 
 earnings for the support of a parcel 
 of lazy nobles and a useless court, I 
 have hidden all the money bags there ; 
 therefore, be careful that nobody 
 knows of it but yourself." So saying, 
 Peter mounted his wagon and drove 
 off. Silly Catharine looked after him 
 as long as he could be seen, and then 
 went back to the kitchen, determined
 
 THE CABBAGES. 47 
 
 to show her husband how clever she 
 had become. 
 
 " Shall I go and tell the goose girl 
 to hunt the turkeys into the coo]* 
 first ? " thought she ; " or shall I put 
 on the cabbage to boil ? I think I will 
 set my cabbage on first ; it will take 
 but a moment, the turkeys are safe till 
 then." 
 
 So she went to the larder, got out 
 a fine large cabbage, and hung the 
 pot over the fire, that it might boil 
 quickly. The steam of the cabbage 
 cooking ascended if) her nose with a 
 delicious perfume, and at last, what 
 with hanging over the pot enveloped 
 in steam, and the heat of the fire, she 
 felt very drowsy, and falling into her 
 chair, was soon soundly asleep. She
 
 4:8 FUtfNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 had not slept long before in came the 
 goose girl, whose business it was to 
 take charge of the fowls of all sorts, 
 crying out, " Oh, mistress ! mistress : 
 the turkeys have got among the bram- 
 bles, and cannot get out ! " 
 
 " Mercy upon us ! " exclaimed 
 Catharine, springing up and wringing 
 her hands; "what will Peter say to 
 me ! He will, doubtless, break his 
 stick over my shoulders. If it were not 
 for the cabbage on the fire, I should 
 certainly throw myself from the win- 
 dow ! " So saying, she ran out into 
 the field, but too late ; the little tur- 
 keys were all in the very middle of a 
 bramble bush, which had tangled in 
 their feathers, until it was impossible 
 to get them out ; beside which, a fox

 
 THE CABBAGES. 49 
 
 had entered the barn yard in the 
 goose girl's absence, by the gate, which 
 she had carelessly left swinging open, 
 and carried off the biggest and hand- 
 somest Poland rooster, that Wise Pe- 
 ter valued even more than the tur- 
 keys. About this last loss, however, 
 she said nothing, hoping that her mis- 
 tress wouldn't remark it. This, in- 
 deed, proved to be the case ; for, with- 
 out noticing the absence of poor 
 Chanticleer, Catharine burst into 
 tears, exclaiming, "What is to be 
 done? The only way is to cut the 
 bush down." 
 
 As she spoke, she seized an axe, 
 and with one blow felled the bush to 
 the ground. But what was her horror 
 to find, as she let fall the axe, that she 
 
 v. 4
 
 60 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 had also struck off the heads of every 
 one of the turkeys ! 
 
 " Oh heavens ! what a misfortune ! " 
 cried Catharine ; "I am the most un- 
 lucky woman in the world ! Now Wise 
 Peter will not leave a whole bone in 
 my body! Alas, the turkeys would 
 have sold for eight skillings apiece 
 when they had grown fat and big ! 
 The only thing that consoles me is, 
 that I shall have such a famous sup- 
 per ready for him. When he tastes 
 my fine cabbage soup, I am sure he 
 must forget to be vexed ! " There were 
 still, however, the bodies of the tur- 
 keys to see after ; so she took out her 
 needle and thread, sewed the heads of 
 the turkeys on their necks, and set 
 them upright in the coop, that they
 
 THE CABBAGES. 51 
 
 might look as though they were still 
 alive. 
 
 After this precious piece of clever- 
 ness, Silly Catharine returned to the 
 house to see how her cabbage came 
 on. But she had been gone so long 
 that the water in the pot had all boiled 
 away, and the cabbage was burning 
 on hard and fast to the bottom of the 
 pot. " Why, bless me ! where can the 
 water have gone to ? " cried Silly 
 Catharine. "It must have all drawn 
 up chimney! Nevertheless, it would 
 be a pity to lose it; full of the cabbage 
 juice as it was, it might well have 
 been made into soup ; and Wise Peter 
 has told me a hundred times never to 
 waste anything. I will get something
 
 52 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 to let down the chimney and see if I 
 can dip it up." 
 
 So saying, she began to look about 
 for a rope long enough to reach down 
 the chimney ; but she couldn't find 
 one. All at once her eye fell on the 
 bucket standing outside the well. Joy- 
 fully rushing to it, she cut the rope, 
 and dragging the bucket after her, 
 scrambled out on the roof, and began 
 letting it down the chimney. While she 
 was thus engaged, a poor little fright- 
 ened swallow, who had built its nest 
 there, suddenly flew up the chimney 
 and darted right in her face. Silly 
 Catharine was so much frightened, 
 that she gave a loud scream and let 
 go of the rope. The bucket, of course, 
 fell into the middle of the fire, and in
 
 THE CABBAGES. 53 
 
 a twinkling was burnt to cinders. 
 Down from the roof, and into the 
 kitchen, rushed Catherine, but too 
 late ; nothing save the iron hoops now 
 remained of the bucket. 
 
 "What shall I do?" cried Silly 
 Catharine. " Not an hour passes but 
 some new misfortune occurs. Alas ! I 
 am no longer able to draw water for 
 my soup ! but stay, I think of a way ! " 
 So saying, she took the pot from the 
 hook, tied a rope to the handle, let it 
 down the well, with the cabbage still 
 in it, and when it was filled carried it 
 back to the house, and hung it over 
 the fire. 
 
 Soon afterward the dairy maid 
 went to draw some water for dinner. 
 She could not find the bucket ; so she
 
 54 FUSTNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 let down a milk pail instead; but 
 when she came to taste the water, she 
 tasted also the flavor of the cabbage, 
 and ran to her mistress, calling out, 
 "Why, mistress, who has been med- 
 dling with our fine well ? It had once 
 the best water in the neighborhood, 
 but now the flavor is precisely that of 
 a greasy, horrible cabbage ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried Silly Catharine, 
 with an air of contempt; "it is all 
 your fancy. Don't tell me that water 
 can taste of cabbages ! " Her heart 
 beat with affright, however, and as 
 soon as the servant maid had left the 
 room, she ran in great terror to the 
 wine cellar. " What the servant said 
 must have been true," thought she ; 
 "and Wise Peter will never forgive
 
 THE CABBAGES. 55 
 
 me when he finds out that I have 
 spoilt the well. I will, therefore, pour 
 sonic wine into the water, to take 
 away the taste of the cabbages/' So 
 saying, she seized one of the wine bar- 
 rels, and in the strength of terror she 
 managed, with great difficulty, to push 
 it up the cellar stairs, and roll it 
 through the kitchen out to the well. 
 Then she removed the spile and tilted 
 the cask forward ; when out streamed 
 at least thirty gallons of the finest To- 
 kay down the well ! 
 
 Having done this, Silly Catharine 
 hid the barrel away with great pre- 
 cipitation; and, determined to leave 
 nothing else undone, she called the 
 reapers and bid them go directly to 
 the large field and reap the wheat.
 
 56 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 Then she went back, and began eating 
 her dinner, saying, " Thank heaven, I 
 have a good dinner to sit down to, at 
 least; there are always cabbages 
 enough ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, the reapers made ready 
 to go a-field ; and before they went, 
 one of them drew a bucket of water 
 to carry with them. But no sooner 
 had they tasted the water, than they 
 cried out, " 'Tis wine ! the finest 
 wine ! " and scarcely able to believe 
 their senses, they drew up bucket after 
 bucket of this new liquor, drank till 
 they became drunk, and then tumbled 
 senseless among the wheat; for it 
 happened that the well was very low, 
 and what they drew was nearly all 
 wine. While they lay there, a violent
 
 THE CABBAGES. 57 
 
 hail storm came on, and in an hour's 
 time the whole of the wheat was 
 beaten to the ground, drenched, 
 crushed, and ruined. 
 
 Unconscious of this fresh misfor- 
 tune, Silly Catharine prepared her soup 
 for supper, and then, having finished 
 her work, she sat down in the front 
 porch and began to knit, feeling as if 
 at last all her troubles were over. 
 Presently tho gate was opened, and a 
 man entered the garden. It was he 
 who was appointed to gather the tax, 
 and knowing Wise Peter to be well 
 off, it was to his house that he first 
 came. 
 
 " Oh, you are very much mistaken 
 if you think I will pay your outrageous 
 tax ! " cried Silly Catharine. " No, no !
 
 53 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 < 
 
 Wise Peter would know better than 
 that, and his wife will not be behind 
 hand! He told me before he went 
 that he had no money to pay, and if 
 he had, he wouldn't give it to support 
 your lazy nobles ; so be off with you ! " 
 While Catharine had been making 
 this tirade, the tax gatherer, to whom 
 she had unwittingly given a valuable 
 hint, hit upon a new plan by which to 
 secure his guilders. So as she paused, 
 out of breath, he exclaimed, in a con- 
 temptuous tone : " There is no use in 
 making such a noise, good woman ; I 
 see plainly that I was a fool to sup- 
 pose the owner of this beggarly house 
 was worth five hundred guilders. Five 
 kreutzers would be much nearer the 
 mark ! "
 
 THE CABBAGES. 59 
 
 " What ! do you dare to call the 
 house of Wise Peter beggarly ! " cried 
 Catharine in a rage; " beggarly, in- 
 deed ! you could never get such a fine 
 one if you live a thousand years." 
 
 " And I repeat that it is a beggarly 
 house," said the other ; " with a poor, 
 miserable family in it." 
 
 " You don't believe me ? " screamed 
 Billy Catharine : " well, then I'll show 
 you what you call poor ; a pretty 
 thing, indeed, that you should say w r e 
 are a beggarly family ! " And, bounc- 
 ing from her seat, she led the tax 
 gatherer to the store room, and drag- 
 ging the money bags from their con- 
 cealment, she opened them trium- 
 phantly, saying, " There, what do you 
 call that?"
 
 60 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " At least a thousand guilders ! " 
 exclaimed the tax gatherer, astonished 
 at seeing so much more than he had 
 expected. " So, you refuse to pay the 
 tax when you have all this money in 
 the house ! I confiscate it all in the 
 name of the king, and you may think 
 yourself lucky if you and your precious 
 husband (who must be wise, since he 
 married such a wife as you), don't get 
 thrown into prison besides." So say- 
 ing, he snatched up the bags of guil- 
 ders, while Catharine stood staring at 
 him in mute horror, and in an instant 
 was out of the house, and gone on his 
 way. 
 
 Nearly stunned with this new mis- 
 hap, Catharine burst into tears, and 
 ran down stairs crying, as though her
 
 THE CABBAGES. 61 
 
 heart would break. " What is to be- 
 come of me/' she sobbed, "when Pe- 
 ter comes home ? He will certainly 
 kill me for having shown the tax 
 gatherer the money! Nevertheless, 
 what could I do ? It was impossible 
 to have people say that Wise Peter 
 was a beggarly creature I could not 
 allow that ! " and, a little re-assured, 
 she dried her eyes and went to taste 
 the soup. It was nearly done, and 
 tasted deliciously. "Ah ! " cried Silly 
 Catharine, " the soup is better than 
 usual ! It quite repays me for all to 
 think that w r e still have the finest cab- 
 bages ! " 
 
 In the mean time, one of the 
 reapers, who had drank less wine than 
 the others, woke up sober, and as soon
 
 62 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 as he found he could stand on his legs, 
 he ran post haste to the village to 
 relate the wonderful tale. The place 
 being small and the gossips many, it 
 was not half an hour before the whole 
 population knew the extraordinary 
 occurrence that had taken place. 
 Even the cure, the magistrate, and the 
 doctor rushed into the street to hear 
 the news, and a pretty uproar there 
 was. " Said I not truly that Wise 
 Peter was in league with the Evil 
 One ? " exclaimed one, " for only thus 
 can the miracle of a spring of wine be 
 accounted for." " True, true ! " cried 
 the listeners ; " a wizard he must be ; 
 and that of a right dangerous sort ! " 
 
 Just at this moment, the wagon 
 of Wise Peter was seen coming along
 
 THE CABBAGES. 63 
 
 the road. The impatient villagers 
 could not wait for him to approach 
 them, but rushed toward the wagon 
 and surrounded it on every side. 
 "How now, wretched wizard!" they 
 one and all shouted ; " dare you look 
 us in the face when we have found 
 you out in your sorceries ? Away with 
 you to prison ! " and, so saying, they 
 laid hold of Wise Peter, dragged him 
 out of the wagon, and bore him toward 
 the magistrate. In vain the wretched 
 man begged for some explanation, de- 
 clared a hundred times over that he 
 was no wizard, but an honest peasant ; 
 they only shouted, tauntingly, "A 
 pretty story for a man who turns his 
 well springs into the finest wine! no
 
 64 FroTCY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 wizard, indeed ! say, rather, a wizard 
 of the worst kind ! " 
 
 With these words, they hauled him 
 before the magistrate, where, again, 
 the reaper repeated his story, adding, 
 by way of proof, "If you don't be- 
 lieve me, go and see the other reap- 
 ers ; there they lie drunk, where I left 
 them." 
 
 " You hear what this honest man 
 says," said the magistrate. " We have 
 long suspected you of sorcery, but this 
 proves the matter at once. Either you 
 must forfeit a hundred guilders, as or- 
 dained by law in such cases, or you 
 must go to prison." 
 
 Almost distracted, Wise Peter ex- 
 claimed, "You have seen fit, worthy 
 magistrate, to accuse me of a crime
 
 THE CABBAGES. 65 
 
 of which, so far from being guilty, I 
 know nothing whatever. When I left 
 home this morning, I swear the water 
 was as fresh and pure as possible. I 
 know that some envious people had 
 long accused me of practising black 
 arts, and if Industry and Prudence 
 are black arts, I am certainly guilty; 
 but in this matter of the water, I am 
 as innocent as niv own wife ! " 
 
 9 
 
 ''All this is very fine," answered 
 the magistrate ; " but it happens that 
 the bewitched water can be pro- 
 duced ; " and turning to the reaper, he 
 said, "Have you any of this water 
 about you ? " 
 
 " Yes, worthy magistrate," replied 
 the reaper ; " as I came away from the 
 
 V.-
 
 66 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 field, I filled my flask with what was 
 left, and brought it with me. 
 
 The flask was handed to Peter, 
 
 and no sooner had he tasted it, than 
 
 he fell back aghast, exclaiming, 
 
 Good heaven, it is wine ! and very 
 
 like Tokay ! " 
 
 " What ! you confess it yourself? " 
 cried the magistrate. " Don't hope, 
 then, for mercy ! You shall now pay 
 two hundred guilders, or go to prison 
 for a year ! " 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! " cried the un- 
 fortunate man, falling on his knees. 
 " Consider my family, worthy magis- 
 trate ; do not disgrace them by send- 
 ing me to prison ! I see the water has 
 been changed, but not by me ; and 
 though you will not believe me, I can
 
 THE CABBAGES. 67 
 
 solemnly assure you, with perfect 
 truth, that I am innocent." 
 
 " Pay or go to prison ! " answered 
 the magistrate inexorably. 
 
 With many tears and groans, the 
 unlucky Peter drew a purse full of 
 guilders from his pocket and paid over 
 the whole proceeds of his sale of 
 wheat, which only amounted to a 
 hundred and five guilders ; the magis- 
 trate remarking that he would let him 
 off with that if he would solemnly 
 swear never to practise the black art 
 any more, and to unbewitch his well 
 as speedily as possible. This Peter 
 did, in despair of bringing them to 
 reason, and having been thus severely 
 punished for a crime he was utterly 
 guiltless of, he mounted his wagon
 
 68 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 again, and rode home in a state of 
 mind that can better be imagined than 
 described. 
 
 When he reached his own home 
 he rapped on the window as usual, to 
 warn his wife, and Catharine rushed 
 out to meet him, and, throwing her 
 arms round his neck, cried, "Oh, Pe- 
 ter, " I am so glad you have returned ; 
 the good cabbage soup is all ready for 
 you ; so come right in and eat it ! " 
 
 " Eat ! " exclaimed Wise Peter, 
 " how can I swallow a mouthful when 
 I am so overwhelmed with misfor- 
 tune ? " 
 
 "What! you also!" said Catha- 
 rine ; " alas ! what has happened ? " 
 
 With accents that trembled with 
 rage and grief, Wise Peter told how
 
 PETER'S RETURN HOME.
 
 THE CABBAGES. 09 
 
 he had been treated in the village; 
 but he had scarcely made an end be- 
 fore Catharine, bursting into tears, ex- 
 claimed, "Oh, what will become of 
 me ! Have mercy, Peter, for it was I 
 who poured the wine down the well ! " 
 
 " Poured wine down the well ! " 
 cried Peter, starting in astonishment ; 
 " then, for heaven's sake, why did you 
 do that ? " 
 
 "Because," sobbed his wife, "the 
 water tasted of cabbages ! " 
 
 " Of cabbages ! " repeated the 
 peasant, in greater surprise than ever, 
 "and what made it taste of cab- 
 bages ? " 
 
 "Because I dipped up water in 
 the cabbage pot," cried Silly Catha- 
 rine.
 
 70 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 \ ( 
 
 "And where was the bucket?" 
 asked her husband. 
 
 " I burnt it, trying to dip the water 
 out of the chimney, that had been 
 drawn up from the cabbage pot ! " 
 gasped Catharine, feeling that every- 
 thing must now be told, since she had 
 begun. 
 
 Wise Peter took two or three 
 strides across the room in silence ; 
 then, making a violent effort to speak 
 quietly, he said, " And why, Catharine, 
 since you supposed that water could 
 be drawn up a chimney, did you leave 
 the pot unwatched ? " 
 
 Almost in a scream, Silly Catharine 
 broke out, " Because I was sewing on 
 the turkeys' heads that I struck off 
 cutting down the bramble bush ! ! "
 
 THE CABBAGES. 71 
 
 " Now, was ever any man tormented 
 with such a fool of a wife ! " shouted 
 Peter, almost beside himself with rage. 
 " I could beat you with pleasure for 
 acting so witlessly, but that, alas! 
 would not pay for what you have lost 
 for me this day. A hundred and five 
 guilders of my precious money have I 
 been made to pay for your foolery, 
 besides losing my Tokay wine, my 
 field of wheat, and all my fine young 
 turkeys! at least a hundred guilders 
 more ! " 
 
 " Oil, and that's not the worst ! " 
 cried Catharine. 
 
 "What! is there any more to 
 come?" exclaimed Peter, almost out 
 of his senses. 
 
 " Yes," stammered Silly Catharine ;
 
 72 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " the man came here to gather the 
 tax, and I told him, as you said, that 
 you were far too clever to pay it, and 
 that he would get nothing more out 
 of me. Then he said you were a beg- 
 garly fellow, not worth five kreutzers, 
 and, of course, I couldn't allow that ; 
 so I showed him the guilders in the 
 store room, to prove that he spoke 
 falsely, and he took every one of 
 them ! I am so sorry, but never 
 mind, there is excellent cabbage soup 
 for supper ! " 
 
 At this, Peter could restrain him- 
 self no longer, and falling upon Silly 
 Catharine, he trounced her well with 
 his stick, until she cried out for mer- 
 cy. " There ! " he said at last, throw- 
 ing down the stick, "you have been
 
 THE CABBAGES. 73 
 
 well punished, though not half enough 
 to pay for the mischief you have 
 done." 
 
 Silly Catharine dried her eyes upon 
 her apron, and with a reproachful 
 look exclaimed, " Still you have beaten 
 me, Wise Peter, for what I could not 
 help ; for, if the turkeys had not been 
 killed, I should never have stayed 
 away so long; if the water had not 
 flown up chimney I should not have 
 burnt the bucket ; and if the well had 
 not tasted of cabbages, I should not 
 have thrown in the wine. And, above 
 all, dear Peter, if that abominable man 
 spoke ill of you, how could I, your 
 wife, avoid showing him that he lied? 
 Besides, the case is not so bad; we 
 have lost nearly all, it is true; but,
 
 74: FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 thank heaven, we still have delicious 
 cabbages ! " 
 
 In spite of himself, Wise Peter 
 could not help bursting out laughing. 
 "After all, Catharine," he exclaimed, 
 " I see you did not intend doing me 
 any harm ; if you are a fool, that, cer- 
 tainly, is not your fault ; therefore, in 
 future let us never be separated. Come, 
 you pretty goose, let us go and eat 
 cabbage soup." 
 
 So saying, Wise Peter kissed his 
 wife's blooming cheek, and led her 
 into the house. They sat down with 
 contented hearts to the nice, smoking 
 soup, and after supper walked out 
 among the spreading cabbages.
 
 THE WONDERFUL LEGEND OF 
 THE GOLD STONE. 
 
 IN those far away times when the 
 world was yet in its baby clothes, and 
 people were not as wise as they are 
 nowadays, there dwelt in the good 
 town of London a poor tailor's appren- 
 tice named Bartlemy Bowbell. He 
 might be called poor in a double 
 sense ; for not only was he such a 
 lazy, idle fellow that he scarcely ever 
 took a stitch, and so seldom had a 
 copper of his own, but he was a mis- 
 erable workman, and, like an organ-
 
 76 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 grinder's monkey, or a blind man's 
 dog, obtained more kicks than half- 
 pence. 
 
 In the same room with him were 
 several other tailors; who sang to- 
 gether one of two tunes as they 
 stitched. If they were paid for every 
 day's work, be it much or little, they 
 sang, " By the d-a-y ! by the d-a-a-y ! 
 by the d-a-a-a-y ! " and the needles 
 went in and out as slowly as the 
 coaches of a funeral procession ; but 
 if they were paid for every gar- 
 ment they finished, then they sang, 
 " By the job ! by the job ! by the 
 job ! " and the needles stitched away 
 like an express train ! Bartlemy, how- 
 ever, crossed his legs, put his thimble 
 firmly on, and stitched briskly for five
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 77 
 
 minutes ; then his attention would 
 wander, and presently, dropping 
 work, thimble, shears, and needle, 
 he began singing to himself, 
 
 " Oh, if I were only possessed of my riches, 
 I never would sew on a pair of old breeches ! 
 
 Thimbles and thread 1 
 
 Buttons and braid ! 
 Oh, who would be bound to this rascally trade ? 
 
 " If money I had, I'd be free from all care, 
 And what master must make, /should have but to wear I 
 
 Needles and pins ! 
 
 Shears and cloth ends ! 
 When the work's ended then pleasure begins 1 " 
 
 " What's that you're singing about 
 riches?" cried his master, sharply; 
 ( Riches, forsooth ! you will die in the 
 poor house, I can tell you, if you don't 
 stitch more diligently ! Come, sew 
 away ! sew away ! " So saying, he
 
 78 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 gave him a good thwack with his yard 
 stick, to make him continue working. 
 
 All the beatings in the world, how- 
 ever, could not thump out of Bartlemy 
 Bowbell a belief that had got into his 
 head that he should one day become 
 rich and famous, through the agency 
 of a wonderful jewel called the Gold 
 Stone. As I said, people, in those 
 days, were by no means so wise as 
 they are at present, and so it fell out
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 79 
 
 that the most learned philosophers of 
 that olden time believed as firmly as 
 did the tailor's apprentice in the exist- 
 ence of this Gold Stone, the peculiar 
 property of which was, that if it came 
 in contact with any common metal, it 
 changed it, on that instant, into gold. 
 Now, this story had come to the ears 
 of Bartlemy Bowbell, and by one of 
 those odd cranks that not overwise 
 people sometimes take in their heads, 
 he was perfectly persuaded that, 
 sooner or later, he was fated to find 
 the miraculous gem. 
 
 Matters soon rose to such a pitch, 
 as may easily be seen, that his master 
 finally turned him out of doors, saying 
 " that he ate more than he would ever 
 
 earn."
 
 80 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 "Yery well, master," quoth Bar- 
 tlemy, " I don't regret your goose and 
 cabbage ! " and having said this, he 
 ran away as hard as he could, drop- 
 ping one of his slipshod shoes as he 
 went along, with his master pursuing 
 after, yard stick in hand, whom, how- 
 ever, he soon contrived to outstrip. 
 
 As he had not earned a penny dur- 
 ing the week, he was entirely without
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 81 
 
 money, and nobody would lodge a 
 shabby apprentice with only one shoe, 
 for nothing. He wandered on until he 
 was clear of London and in the open 
 fields, begging of those he met on the 
 road, but who always replied to his 
 solicitation, "Why don't you go to 
 work, you lazy 'prentice ? " for they 
 knew what he was, because he wore a 
 'prentice's flat cap. Worst of all, 
 night now came on, and Bartlemy was 
 at last compelled to lie down beneath 
 a tree, where he soon fell asleep. The 
 moon rose high, and still Bartlemy 
 snored, when, all of a sudden, he was 
 roused by a smart blow on the shoul- 
 der from -what he could have sworn 
 was a yard stick. 
 
 " Needles and pins ! " cried Bartle- 
 
 V. 6
 
 82 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 my, sitting up in haste ; " what's 
 that?" 
 
 "Bartlemy Bowbell," croaked a 
 strange voice, " look at me." 
 
 Bartlemy looked round, and to his 
 extreme terror, saw standing beside 
 him a being whom he could only sup- 
 pose to be a goblin. He was not more 
 than four feet high, with very bow 
 legs, as though from a constant habit 
 of tucking them up on a tailor's shop 
 board ; his clothes, fashioned from odd 
 bits of velvet and cloth such as tailors 
 call " cabbage/ 7 or, as we should say, 
 the pieces of the customers' stuff left 
 from their coats were trimmed with 
 thimbles for bell buttons ; on his head 
 was a tailor's cotton nightcap, with a 
 long tassel, and hanging at his waist
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 83 
 
 were an immense pair of shears, and a 
 pincushion bristling with needles and 
 pins. In one hand he carried the yard 
 stick with which he had struck the 
 luckless 'prentice, and in the other a 
 tailor's goose, or flat iron. 
 
 His face was expressive of the 
 most jovial good humor, though it 
 could not be called handsome, for his 
 nose was flattened as though he were 
 in the habit of trying his iron against 
 the end ; his hair seemed composed 
 of long and short threads mingled to- 
 gether, and he had an abominable 
 squint, as though he were always en- 
 deavoring to see how a coat set at the 
 front and back, the collar and tail at 
 the same time.
 
 84 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " Bartlem y," said the goblin again, 
 " what's the matter with you ? " 
 
 "Matter, your worship?" gasped 
 Bartlemy. 
 
 "Come to the point," said the 
 goblin, severely, accidentally swinging 
 his pincushion against Bartlemy's legs 
 at the same time, and pricking him 
 most atrociously. " You are everlast- 
 ingly growling and grumbling, instead 
 of working at your trade like an hon- 
 est tailor, and richly deserve to be 
 thwacked with the yardstick every 
 morning by way of breakfast ; but 
 never mind, I choose to help you ; so 
 say what you want, quick." 
 
 "A-and who might your worship 
 be?" asked Bartlemy, with a cold 
 shudder ; for he felt desperately afraid
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 85 
 
 that he had got hold of Old Boguey 
 or Old Nick it was not much matter 
 which. 
 
 " That's none of your business," 
 said the being; "but if you must 
 know, I am Snippinbitz, the patron of 
 the tailors." 
 
 " lord, your worship, you don't 
 say so ! " stammered Bartlemy. 
 
 " That's a fact ! " returned the gob- 
 lin. " Come, out with it ; what can I 
 do for you ? " 
 
 Bartlemy scratched his head and 
 took off his cap, looked into it, found 
 no words there, and put it on again ; 
 and finally, with a bow that nearly 
 toppled him head over heels, and a 
 kick up of his foot that sent his re-
 
 86 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 maining slipper flying into the nearest 
 mud-puddle, he managed to say : 
 
 " Please, your worship, I want to 
 find the Gold Stone." 
 
 The goblin burst into a discordant 
 laugh on hearing this ; then, suddenly 
 becoming serious, he said : 
 
 "Well, that's a sensible request, 
 Bartlemy, and a modest one, consider- 
 ing the circumstances. Never mind, I 
 have taken a fancy to you ; your wish 
 shall be accomplished. See here." 
 
 With these words Snippinbitz put 
 his hand in his pocket, and pulled out 
 a magnificent jewel, as it seemed to 
 Bartlemy. It was of the most resplen- 
 dent purple color imaginable, and 
 sparkled all over with flecks of gold, 
 which seemed to swim beneath the
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 87 
 
 surface. Nothing could look more 
 gorgeously beautiful as the astonished 
 tailor held it up in the moonlight; 
 yes, there could be no doubt of it; 
 the mysterious, the unattainable Gold 
 Stone was really his ! 
 
 "Now, Bartlemy, attend to me," 
 continued the being. " The Gold Stone 
 is yours, but under certain conditions, 
 which must be faithfully complied 
 with, or no gold ! First, you must 
 return to London to-morrow, seek out 
 your old master, and ask him to em- 
 ploy you as a regular workman. You 
 will find yourself able to sew as well 
 as the best, through my assistance, 
 and you must employ this power dili- 
 gently on the work he gives you to 
 do. I warn you, however, that you
 
 88 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 must keep the secret of the Gold Stone 
 from everybody ; and, in order that 
 you may do so, you must never take it 
 out of your pouch until you are safe 
 in your own chamber. Secondly, when 
 you receive your wages, place the 
 money directly in the pouch contain- 
 ing the Gold Stone, and do not look at 
 it until you go to bed. Then you will 
 find the copper turned into silver, and 
 the silver into gold. But if you count 
 the money first, it will never be any 
 different. Thirdly, in a year's time 
 from to-night, meet me at this spot, and 
 tell me how you have prospered. Will 
 you keep these conditions faithfully ? " 
 
 " Ye-y-es ! your worship ! " stam- 
 mered the 'prentice. 
 
 "Then, how are you, Mr. Gold
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 89 
 
 Stone ! " exclaimed the goblin, in ad- 
 vance of the age ; and, with an out- 
 rageous wink, he treated Bartlemy to 
 another whack with the yardstick, 
 and vanished. 
 
 The blow struck our tailor insen- 
 sible; and when his eyes again un- 
 closed it was broad daylight. For a 
 moment he stared about him, wonder- 
 ing how he came to be there ; then, 
 remembering the extraordinary events 
 of the previous night, he hastily felt 
 in his pouch, and drew out the mira- 
 culous jewel. It flamed in the sunlight 
 like a bright diamond eye, and Bar- 
 tlemy almost fancied he caught it 
 winking at him. This idea lasted but a 
 moment, and having taken a long and 
 delighted stare at the much-desired
 
 90 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 Gold Stone, he replaced it carefully in 
 his pouch, and started straight for 
 London. As he passed the newly- 
 opened bakers' shops, he could not 
 help wishing that he had a half-penny 
 in the world, so that he might change 
 it into a crown on the spot, and buy 
 a basketful of hot rolls; but as the 
 Gold Stone was not warranted to make 
 money, he was forced to take it out 
 in wishing. Fortunately one of the 
 bakers, seeing him gaze hungrily at 
 the hot bread, had the kindness to 
 toss him a large roll ; and, munching 
 this, he arrived at his master's shop. 
 
 After the way in which he had 
 been turned out, he hadn't much hope 
 of getting in again, but, afraid of dis- 
 obeying the goblin's injunctions, he
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 91 
 
 entered with as much courage as he 
 could muster, and found the other 
 tailors stitching away as usual, while 
 his master cut out a coat. 
 
 Bartlemy took his cap humbly off, 
 saying, "Please, master, if you will 
 employ me as a workman now, I think 
 I can please you. Do try me ; I will 
 be industrious ; indeed, I will." 
 
 " Oh," grumbled the master tailor, 
 " sleeping out in the fields and going 
 without supper and breakfast has 
 done you good, has it? Well, take 
 this coat and sit you down; but I 
 warn you, beforehand, that if you are 
 not more industrious than usual, I will 
 lay my yardstick over your shoulder, 
 and clear you out again." 
 
 Bartlemy took the work, and hav-
 
 92 FTTNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 ing planted himself on the shop-board* 
 in his favorite place, near a window, 
 he put on his thimble, threaded his 
 needle with a grand flourish, and be- 
 gan to stitch away for dear life. He 
 sewed faster and better than he had 
 ever done before, and found, to his 
 joy, that the goblin's promises had 
 begun to be fulfilled in reality. But 
 bad habits are not to be conquered as 
 one would pull up weeds : though both 
 must be torn up by the roots, one 
 might weed three gardens in the time 
 it takes to destroy one fault ; and so, 
 without really meaning it, Bartlemy 
 at last began to ply his needle less 
 briskly ; his thoughts wandered ; he 
 
 * A shop-board is a kind of table on which tailors 
 sit when at work.
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 93 
 
 took a stitch that was three times too 
 long, then another in a wrong place, a 
 third and fourth all askew, and finally 
 the work came to a dead stand-still. 
 But, thimbles and thread ! what hap- 
 pened ? The instant his hand stopped, 
 a long yellow yardstick came flying 
 through the window, with no one 
 holding it, hit him such a thwack on 
 the shins that he roared again with the 
 pain, and instantly vanished. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter ? " asked 
 the other tailors, startled, as they well 
 might be. 
 
 " Matter ! " cried Bartlemy. " Why, 
 didn't you see that that horrible 
 yardstick coming at rne ? " 
 
 At this they all laughed at him for 
 a fool; for nobody but our tailor
 
 94 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 could perceive this terrific weapon, 
 which was doubtless invisible to com- 
 mon eyes. His conscience whispered, 
 however, that his punishment was a 
 reminder from the friendly goblin, and 
 accordingly he set to work with re- 
 newed diligence. After a while, lost 
 in dreams of his approaching wealth, 
 he stopped stitching again, when, like 
 a flash, in came the yardstick, touched 
 him up with a vengeance, and vanish- 
 ed as before ; and so it continued all 
 the time he was sewing : the watchful 
 yardstick would only allow him to 
 stop to thread his needle or turn the 
 work. 
 
 When he had stitched all the 
 seams, he laid the coat on the table 
 and heated his goose, that he might
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 95 
 
 smooth them. He took care to post 
 himself a good way from the window, 
 in order to get rid of the ferocious 
 yardstick ; but the goblin was not to 
 be baffled thus. The moment he 
 stopped ironing and began to count 
 the flies on the ceiling, the goose 
 seemed to carry his hand up with it 
 irrisistibly to the end of his nose, and 
 gave it a good scorching ! This was 
 no joke, I can tell you, and in a very 
 short time Bartlerny began so to dread 
 the visits of his two enemies that he 
 never left working a minute, and his 
 needle dashed along like magic. By 
 sunset the coat was done, and sewed 
 in a manner vastly superior to the 
 other tailors, who looked at him with 
 envious eyes. " What ! finish a whole
 
 96 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 coat in one day ? " they cried ; " we 
 never could do so well ! Goose and 
 cabbage ! friend Bartleruy ! you must 
 have the assistance of some fairy ! " 
 
 Bartlemy made no answer, but 
 taking the coat in hand, carried it 
 to his master, who viewed it in the 
 greatest astonishment. Never before 
 had a coat been made in a single day, 
 and stitched, too, more finely than 
 anything he had ever seen; but, not 
 wishing to raise his late 'prentice's 
 ideas of himself, he merely grumbled 
 out, " For a wonder you have done 
 your work this time ; so now take 
 your wages, and be sure to come early 
 Monday morn." 
 
 As he spoke, he slipped a couple 
 of coins into Bartlemy's hand, who,
 
 THE GOLD STOXE. 97 
 
 remembering the goblin's words, put 
 them into his pouch without so much 
 as looking at them. 
 
 Now, no doubt my clever little 
 readers have guessed quite readily the 
 true solution of this mighty mystery ; 
 but to the simple Bartlemy the real- 
 ity of the Gold Stone's magic power 
 was placed beyond a doubt when, on 
 reaching his chamber and striking a 
 light, he found, instead of the farthing 
 and penny which had always been 
 his weekly payment, a crown and six- 
 pence. 
 
 " Huzzah ! huzzah ! " he cried, fair- 
 ly jumping for joy; "nay beautiful 
 Gold Stone is doing its work bravely." 
 He kissed the stone in his delight, and 
 went to bed, to dream of becoming a 
 T -7 '
 
 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 master tailor, and making clothes for 
 the king. 
 
 The following Monday he repaired 
 to his master's shop the first of any 
 one, and everything happened as on 
 the former time; except that, being 
 more diligent at his work, the goose 
 and the yardstick were less frequent 
 in their favors, and he now made a 
 coat and a vest in the day. His master 
 really knew not what to think ; but at 
 least so good a workman was not to 
 be lost; so he kept his surprise and 
 suspicions to himself, and made up by 
 heaping more and more sewing on the 
 luckless Bartlemy. 
 
 It didn't make any difference, 
 however ; his needle almost seemed to 
 work by itself, and the sewing was
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 99 
 
 finished by sunset ; so that, really, the 
 good-natured goblin was the original 
 sewing machine, and no thanks to 
 Messrs. Grover and Baker. At the end 
 of the week his master paid him a 
 crown and a shilling ; or, as Bartlemy 
 believed, a farthing and a penny ; the 
 next week a guinea, and the week af- 
 ter a guinea and a crown, which was 
 the highest wages ever paid. 
 
 So things went on, until Bartlemy 
 had earned enough to make quite a 
 fortune in his eyes ; ten whole guineas 
 lay glittering in the old night cap 
 where he kept his savings, and the 
 tailor thought he might now set up 
 for a gentleman. So he bought cloth, 
 made himself, in secret, a fine cloak, 
 coat, and breeches, and in these jack-
 
 100 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 daw adornments paraded about the 
 streets a whole morning, trying to ap- 
 pear an idle fine gentleman. At last 
 he strutted into the best inn, ordered 
 a grand dinner and a bottle of wine, 
 and feasted like a lord. 
 
 But his time was coming. The 
 watchful goblin, though not at his 
 side, knew perfectly well what he was 
 about, and soon led him to betray his 
 quality most fatally. When the bill 
 was brought him, it w^as so long and 
 so tremendous that Bartlemy sprang 
 up in a rage, crying out : 
 
 " Thimbles and thread ! Do you 
 call* this a decent charge for your pal- 
 try dinner?" 
 
 The landlord stared at him in aston- 
 ishment ; then, suddenly bursting into
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 1Q1 
 
 a loud laugh, he cried, " Why, gentles 
 all, this fine nobleman is nothing but 
 a tailor ! ha ! ha ! " and he put his 
 hands to his fat sides and shook with 
 laughter. 
 
 " Be silent, sirrah ! " thundered 
 Bartlemy; "or I'll break my yard- 
 stick over your shoulders ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! only hear what he 
 says ! " laughed the landlord. " A 
 miserable tailor." 
 
 " If you do not stop your imperti- 
 nence, I will shear off your ears like 
 doth dippings!" retorted the angry 
 tailor. " Goose and cabbage ! man ; 
 you shall not trifle with me ! " 
 
 On this the landlord and waiters 
 turned him bodily out of the house, 
 after seizing upon all his remaining
 
 102 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 money; and the moment he was in 
 the street, the knowledge of how he 
 had betrayed himself broke upon his 
 mind. Mortified and miserable, he hur- 
 ried home, determined, after this, to 
 stick to his trade and play fine gentle- 
 man no more. 
 
 The year at last drew to a close, 
 and Bartlemy had now earned enough 
 to set up for a master tailor ; when, one 
 bright moonlight night, he suddenly 
 remembered that it was the very an- 
 niversary of his meeting with the gob- 
 lin. Starting up, he ran to where his 
 pouch was placed, took out the Gold 
 Stone and enjoyed a long look at it, 
 and then, throwing his cloak around 
 him, he hastened forth. The moon- 
 light beamed brightly on the path he
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 103 
 
 was taking, and seemed to throw all 
 sorts of queer shadows before him ; 
 now it was an immense yardstick, 
 now a thimble supported on two nee- 
 dles like a pair of spindle legs, then a 
 goose with a pair of shears astride on 
 the handle. 
 
 At last, as he paused under the old 
 tree, he heard a familiar croaking 
 laugh, and found himself unexpectedly 
 in the presence of Snippinbitz, the 
 friendly goblin. 
 
 "Well, Bartlemy," croaked the 
 being ; " and how have you prospered 
 with the Gold Stone ? " 
 
 "Marvellously well, your wor- 
 ship ! " replied Bartlemy, in a joyous 
 tone. 
 
 "And you found a crown and a
 
 104 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 shilling, and a guinea and a crown, 
 instead of your penny and farthing; 
 did you, Bartlemy ? " 
 
 "Why, yes, your worship, I did, 
 certainly." 
 
 "And the Gold Stone changed 
 them, did it, Bartlemy ? " 
 
 "Why, yes, your worship; of 
 course it did." 
 
 " Now, Bartlemy/ 7 said the goblin, 
 in a confidential tone, laying his hand 
 on the other's shoulder, " I want to 
 tell you something. It isn't the Gold 
 Stone ! " 
 
 " It's not the Gold Stone ! ! " 
 gasped Bartlemy. 
 
 " Why, no, you donkey ! there's no 
 such thing ! " 
 
 Bartlemy turned fairly green and
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 105 
 
 yellow with horror and disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " Listen to me, Bartlemy Bowbell," 
 said the goblin ; " nobody but a don- 
 key would suppose that a round bit 
 of purple glass " 
 
 " Of purple glass ! " repeated Bar- 
 tlemy, in a sort of dream. 
 
 "Don't interrupt, Bartlemy that 
 a bit of purple glass could change cop- 
 per into gold. Your master paid you 
 the wages your work was worth, that 
 is all. There is no such preposterous 
 jewel on the face of the earth as you 
 imagine ; but there is a true Gold 
 Stone, and its name is 
 
 ( FAITHFUL INDUSTRY ! ' 
 
 As the goblin spoke these words, 
 he suddenly began to change his form,
 
 106 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 and grew taller and broader. His bell- 
 button thimbles fell off, his flat nose 
 became long and sharp, his thread 
 hair gave place to a bald pate, and 
 his whole appearance became won- 
 derfully like Bartlemy's master. He 
 raised his yardstick, brought it down 
 with a tremendous crack and Bar- 
 tlemy WOKE ! 
 
 Yes ! he was lying under the tree 
 where he had thrown himself down 
 the night before. The whole of what 
 had passed, Gold Stone, money, gob- 
 lin, and all, was but the fantastic tra- 
 cery of a dream ; and above him really 
 stood his master, who had repented 
 of having turned away his luckless 
 'prentice, and had come to seek him. 
 
 The lesson was not lost, however,
 
 THE GOLD STONE. 107 
 
 on our hero. He returned to his mas- 
 ter's shop, where he worked diligently, 
 without any yardstick coming after 
 him ; and in three years' time rose to 
 be a master tailor, married his old 
 master's daughter, cut the coats of the 
 king himself, and took for his arms a 
 Gold Stone, supported by two shears, 
 and the motto : 
 
 FAITHFUL INDUSTRY.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 
 
 THERE were once five learned men, 
 who had been shut up all their lives in 
 their studies, poking their noses into 
 saucepans full of cookeries, which did 
 not resemble savory soups or well-fla- 
 vored ragouts, wearing their eyes out 
 with reading books printed in the 
 crabbedest black letter possible, and 
 shrivelling up their brains with think- 
 ing, until they quite rattled inside 
 their skulls, all in pursuit of out-o'-the 
 way knowledge. 
 
 There was really nothing scientific
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUK. 109 
 
 with which they were not acquainted ; 
 while, in the mean time, one or two 
 little things, perfectly familiar to peo- 
 ple who use their eyes for the purpose 
 of noticing the common occurrences 
 and habits of every-day existence, and 
 exercise their understanding in every- 
 thing that can make life comfortable 
 and agreeable, had entirely escaped the 
 observation of our philosophers. 
 
 As the emperor allowed them each 
 a handsome pension to advance the 
 interests of science, they went on with 
 their discoveries rejoicing, and for a 
 long time had never stirred from their 
 apartments in one of His Majesty's 
 country palaces. They scarcely left 
 off thinking, when they were asleep ; 
 never had the least idea what they
 
 110 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 were eating for dinner, or even what 
 the materials of that dinner looked 
 like ; and, in short, were sublimely un- 
 conscious of any of the ordinary affairs 
 or interests of life ; and thought only 
 of sciences, and high-flown theories of 
 Health, of Natural Philosophy, Chem- 
 istry, Botany, and goodness knows 
 what beside. The fifth and last of the 
 learned men was supposed to consider 
 silence as an art or science, since he 
 hardly ever said anything ; and for 
 that reason was thought to be wiser 
 than the other four put together. 
 
 At last, one fine morning, one of 
 our learned men chanced to poke his 
 head out of the window, to see what 
 on earth had become of one of his 
 glass retorts, which he had filled with
 
 THE PHILOSOPHEES' TOUR. HI 
 
 gas until it went off like a rocket ; and 
 could not help being struck with the 
 blue sky, the fresh green herbage, 
 and the thousands of beautiful wild 
 flowers that sprinkled the grass. It 
 was a charming summer day ; the birds 
 had not yet left off singing, and the 
 fresh breeze, fanning the bald fore- 
 head of the philosopher, appeared 
 wonderfully pleasant. 
 
 " Why, bless me ! " cried the phil- 
 osopher, whose name was Dr. Skihi; 
 " while I have been trying to reduce 
 chemistry to the uses of a penny post, 
 I never thought of remarking whether 
 it was a pleasant day or not. How 
 bright and beautiful everything looks ! 
 Out-of-doors is a very good sort of 
 thing, after all. I declare, Fve a great
 
 112 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 mind pooh! nonsense; science glo- 
 rious science, is a great deal more to 
 be regarded than a fine day in the 
 country." 
 
 So saying, he drew his head in 
 again, and turned to his books and 
 saucepans ; for, you see, he was trying 
 to condense gas, and make it dart 
 through the air like a skyrocket, car- 
 rying a letter, or a telegraphic mes- 
 sage, or even a traveller with it, if it 
 was made strong enough ; but, so far, 
 he had only succeeded in breaking his 
 retorts, and blowing himself up till his 
 head came bump against the ceiling, 
 and knocked off little bits of plaster. 
 Everything in the study looked re- 
 markably dingy after the freshness of 
 the fields, and the doctor could not

 
 DR. MUMBUDGKT LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. H3 
 
 refrain from taking another peep. 
 This time, the contrast appeared even 
 greater than before, while directly un- 
 derneath his window there now stood 
 two pretty little girls, one holding a 
 great bunch of roses and other bloom- 
 ing flowers, and both intent on a long 
 leaf of manuscript, which they were 
 puzzling and laughing over, calling it 
 " such a silly thing ! " Our doctor, to 
 his great dudgeon, recognized it as 
 part of a learned treatise, his own 
 production, which had accidentally 
 blown out of the window ; but, as to be 
 known as the writer of silly things is 
 not specially dignified, he preferred 
 saying nothing about the matter. 
 
 "I have a great mind," he said 
 again ; " yes, I'll go and ask Dr. 
 
 V. fc
 
 114 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 Sheepshanks if he does not think it 
 would be a good plan for us to take a 
 short trip into the country. No doubt 
 we should make some very important 
 discoveries." 
 
 Excusing the idea to himself in this 
 way, Dr. Skihi toddled up one pair of 
 stairs and down two pair of stairs, and 
 straight along a crooked corridor, and 
 all round a square hall, until he arrived 
 at the apartments of Dr. Sheepshanks. 
 He knocked at the door, and peeped 
 through the keyhole until he was told 
 to come in, when he opened the door 
 softly, and shut it with an astonished 
 bang, that made all the spiders, who 
 were dancing hornpipes in all the cor- 
 ners (for the learned men would have 
 died rather than have their sacred
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 115 
 
 studies disturbed by a house-cleaning) 
 stand on one leg for several minutes 
 with surprise, as a noise in the phil- 
 osophers' palace was a thing rather 
 more seldom met with than a cronon- 
 hotonthologos. 
 
 The sight that caused Dr. Skihi to 
 commit such a breach of good man- 
 ners was Dr. Sheepshanks in the very 
 middle of a summersault ! with his 
 flowered dressing gown about his ears 
 and his spindle shanks and black 
 stockings in the air, looking not unlike 
 a two-legged radish growing upside 
 down. 
 
 To him rushed Dr. Skihi, who, 
 catching his friend by the tails of his 
 dressing gown, had him right side up 
 in a hurry, exclaiming, " Crucibles and
 
 116 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 gasbags ! my good sir, have you gone 
 crazy ? " 
 
 " No, indeed/' returned Dr. Sheep- 
 shanks, with a gleeful laugh. " I have 
 made a discovery, sir a great discov- 
 ery. I happened to look out of the 
 window, a moment ago, and I saw a 
 couple of little chaps racing up and 
 down, and playing at that topsy-turvy 
 game you saw me trying just now. 
 Their cheeks were so fat, and their 
 frames so sturdy, that I feel convinced 
 such exercises are the best promoters 
 of health in the world ; and as I am 
 getting rather broken down myself, 
 while I am finding out what is the 
 best way for other people to keep 
 healthy, I thought I would try the 
 experiment. It does make the blood
 
 THE PHILOSOPHEKS' TOUE. 117 
 
 rush to the head somewhat, I must 
 confess ; but it's a glorious thing, you 
 may depend ! I feel twenty years 
 younger and better already, I assure 
 you ! " 
 
 All this time Dr. Sheepshanks was 
 puffing and panting, with a very red 
 face and astonished air ; but the new 
 theory had taken possession of him, 
 and he would have died at the stake 
 rather than allow that turning sum- 
 mersaults was not the exercise best 
 adapted to old gentlemen of sixty. 
 
 Finding his friend so prepossessed 
 in favor of exercise, Dr. Skihi pro- 
 posed to him that they should go and 
 take a walk, to which he readily 
 agreed. Then they went to Dr. Smel- 
 fungus, the great botanist, who was at
 
 118 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 present trying to graft japonicas on 
 bramble bushes : " It would improve 
 the appearance of the roadside so 
 much ! " and Dr. Yan Noostile, who 
 was writing a splendid work, in twen- 
 ty-five volumes, to prove that people's 
 feeling hot and cold was perfect fancy 
 and nonsense ; and also giving a num- 
 ber of scientific ways of finding out 
 whether it would rain or be clear, 
 and what time o' day it was, without 
 looking to see if the wind were east, 
 or running to stare at a clock ; which, 
 no doubt, would be of the greatest use 
 to the world, and leave all the weath- 
 ercocks and watchmakers quite in the 
 shade. Last of all, they came to Dr. 
 Mumbudget, who had on his study 
 door the great doorplate you see in
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 119 
 
 the picture, with his name engraved 
 on it in letters six inches long. As 
 usual, he said not a word in reply 
 to the invitation of his friends, but 
 nodded his head at them instead, until 
 he nearly nodded it off; and so, be- 
 ing all of one mind, our philosophers 
 locked up their studies, put on their 
 five-cornered caps, and taking their 
 gold-headed canes and their note 
 books, to be ready to put down any 
 new fact that might turn up, started 
 off for a country ramble. 
 
 At first they walked along quietly 
 enough, admiring the prospect, and 
 enjoying the fresh air ; but after a few 
 moments, Dr. Sheepshanks could no 
 longer resist the desire to put his new 
 theory of health into practice.
 
 120 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 " Keally," he began, " it would be 
 much better for us always to pursue 
 our studies in the open air. Science 
 teaches us that the most healthy peo- 
 ple are the wild Indians those chil- 
 dren of nature, who live under the 
 trees, dine off fresh fruits, and take 
 plenty of exercise. Let us be children 
 of nature, my friends, and improve 
 our health by running to that tree," 
 pointing to one at some distance. 
 
 Accordingly, the philosopher start- 
 ed off at an amble, followed by his 
 companions, who, with dressing gowns 
 flying in the wind, and books flying- 
 out of their pockets every minute, 
 presented rather ridiculous spectacles. 
 They were so deeply engaged that 
 they did not see Dr. Murnbudget
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 121 
 
 quietly walking along behind, picking 
 up their scattered property. 
 
 So far so good ; but unhappily, 
 not being accustomed to the habits of 
 children of nature, this sudden intro- 
 duction to the true mode of life dis- 
 composed our learned doctors in no 
 small degree. Fairly aching from 
 head to foot with fatigue, Dr. Sheep- 
 shanks was the first to pause, so out of 
 breath that he could hardly speak, yet 
 exclaiming, with a beaming face, " Ah ! 
 you may depend, gentlemen, that the 
 only way to enjoy life is to take plenty 
 of exercise ! " 
 
 This was drawing rather too hard 
 on the patience of his friends, after 
 what they had just endured, and Dr. 
 Skihi exclaimed, rather crossly, "At
 
 122 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 the same time, your exercise is a fa- 
 mous thing to make one thirsty ! I 
 would give a great deal to obtain a 
 drink of spring water ; but that is im- 
 possible at present." 
 
 " Impossible ! why, there is nothing 
 easier !" said Dr. Sinelfungus. " Sci- 
 ence teaches us that some vegetables 
 are nearly all water ; turnips, for in- 
 stance. All you have to do is to get 
 a turnip and express the juice, and 
 there's your drink of water." 
 
 " How about going to a well ? " 
 said Mumbudget ; but nobody appear- 
 ed to hear him. 
 
 " And pray, are there any turnips 
 hereabout?" asked the chemist, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 Now, the fact was that Dr. Smel-
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUE. 123 
 
 fungus had never seen a turnip ; he 
 had only read in books that turnips 
 were round, watery vegetables, yellow 
 outside and full of juice ; for he was 
 so interested in finding out all about 
 flowers and plants that came from 
 Australia, and other out of the way 
 places, that he never troubled his head 
 with common, homemade turnips 
 those were too vulgar; but as he 
 wished to appear informed on all sub- 
 jects, he pointed hap-hazard to a field 
 beside the road saying, carelessly, 
 "Certainly; there are some." 
 
 Now, what do you think Dr. Smel- 
 fungus had really pointed out ? Why, 
 a musk -melon patch ! and as his com- 
 panions knew no more than himself, 
 Dr. Skihi scrambled through the hedge
 
 124: FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 without more ado, cut with his pen- 
 knife as many as he could carry, and 
 returned to his friends. You may be- 
 lieve how they enjoyed the feast, sit- 
 ting on the soft moss, in the cool shade 
 of the trees; and after they were 
 through, Dr. Sinelfungus gravely 
 wrote down, " Turnip a large, round 
 vegetable growing on vines, with a 
 rough, yellow outside, ever so many 
 seeds in the middle, and tastes of nut- 
 megs ! " 
 
 After these exploits, the philoso- 
 phers continued on their way, and Drs. 
 Smelfungus and Sheepshanks felt more 
 proud of their learning than ever. 
 Meanwhile Dr. Murnbudget said noth- 
 ing ; so they gave him credit either for 
 thinking a great deal, or being too big
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 125 
 
 a donkey to admire such splendid ex- 
 periments. 
 
 The sun had now mounted high, 
 and our travellers began to feel its 
 rays inconveniently warm. Dr. Van 
 Noostile, however, laughed them all to 
 scorn. 
 
 " Too warm ! fiddlestick's end ! " he 
 cried. " This feeling warm and cold 
 is all humbug. Dr. Skihi can tell you 
 that I went to the top of the house 
 with him every night for a week, last 
 winter, to look at a comet, in noth- 
 ing but a night gown and an umbrella, 
 and I never was better in my life ! 
 Other people might have felt cold, or 
 caught cold; but I I enjoyed the sci- 
 ence of the thing! If you feel too 
 warm, follow my plan ; make up your
 
 126 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 minds you wont feel so, and the thing's 
 done ! " and Dr. Van Noostile marched 
 proudly along in the hottest part of 
 the road, with his nose in the air, 
 though the sun blistered the end most 
 abominably ! while the others, not to 
 be behindhand in wisdom, followed his 
 example ; all but Murnbudget, who 
 kept in the shade of the trees grow- 
 ing beside the road, and was secretly 
 voted a greater donkey than ever. 
 
 Fortunately for the rest, who might 
 otherwise have been sunstruck, a 
 friendly cloud bank, which had been 
 for some time gathering in the east, 
 now began to cover the sky complete- 
 ly ; and Dr. Mumbudget, speaking for 
 the second time, just said, " Rain com- 
 ing; better hurry on," and then re- 
 lapsed into silence.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUK. 127 
 
 " Rain ! no such thing ! " cried Dr. 
 Van Noostile. " When it is about to 
 rain, you will observe that the swal- 
 lows fly low ! and as I don't see a 
 sign of a swallow, you may depend 
 that " His speech was interrupt- 
 ed by a thunderclap, and then down 
 poured the flood ! in one of those sud- 
 den, heavy showers that so often take 
 place in summer, wetting the whole 
 party to the skin in less than two min- 
 utes. It was of no use to run, and as 
 they plodded along in the wet, our 
 philosophers looked at Dr. Van Noos- 
 tile with faces in which anger and dis- 
 may were equally mingled. 
 
 " Is this your knowledge of weath- 
 er ? " exclaimed Dr. Skihi, in a pet. 
 
 " Science teaches us that even a
 
 128 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 child of nature should go in when it 
 rains ! " snapped Dr. Sheepshanks. 
 
 " And though water is undoubtedly 
 necessary for internal refreshment, ex- 
 ternal application, in the form of a 
 hard shower, is only suitable to plants! " 
 snarled Dr. Smelfungus. 
 
 In short, they all set upon the luck- 
 less weather prophet, except Dr. Mum- 
 budget, who, when they had all scold- 
 ed themselves out of breath, quietly 
 pointed out a farm house they were 
 now approaching, and led the way 
 thither himself. 
 
 There was no need for words. 
 Gladly did the wretched philosophers 
 hasten to its shelter, and avail them- 
 selves of the bright kitchen fire to dry 
 their flowered dressing gowns, and wet
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 129 
 
 stockings and shoes. While they were 
 drying, and steaming like the safety 
 valve of a high-pressure steamboat, 
 the good woman of the house, not 
 without some doubts of their sanity, 
 set about preparing a savory meal. In 
 a short time this was ready, and the 
 others were just sitting down to a dish 
 of nice broiled ham and some light 
 wheaten biscuits, when Dr. Sheep- 
 shanks exclaimed, with an air of 
 amazement, " Is it possible, my friends, 
 that you are willing to violate the 
 natural laws of health by eating dishes 
 at which a child of nature would be 
 horrified! Not for me be so degen- 
 erate a meal ! /shall lunch on fare such 
 as a wild Indian best loves ! " So say- 
 ing, he tucked up his sleeves, called 
 
 v. 9
 
 130 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 for some unground corn, and having 
 pounded it in a mortar until it was in 
 coarse bits, he mixed with it a little 
 water, and baked this horrible mess 
 before the fire, t in the hot ashes. Then 
 he asked for a slice of bacon, as veni- 
 son was not at hand, frizzled the out 
 side slightly by holding it up on a cleft 
 stick before the fire, burning his ten 
 fingers several times in the process, 
 and bearing it with heroic fortitude. 
 Finally, he served up these atrocious 
 specimens of cookery on pieces of 
 board instead of dishes, as the proper 
 diet for children of nature and phi- 
 losophers ! 
 
 As he could not induce the other 
 savants to prefer the luncheon of wild 
 Indians to that of civilized Christians,
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 131 
 
 Dr. Sheepshanks ate it all up himself, 
 though, in fact, his rebellious palate 
 steadily refused to relish the dainties pre- 
 pared for it. Science must be made to 
 triumph, however, and the little doctor 
 gallantly charged these " What is It's " 
 of cookery and finished the last mor- 
 sel under furious protest of stomach. 
 
 Somewhat comforted by the meal, 
 and seeing that the clouds had given 
 place to a clear sky, the philosophers 
 resumed their dressing gowns, woefully 
 shrunken by the wetting and drying 
 they had received, and having liberally 
 paid their hostess, started on the 
 homeward road ; concluding that they 
 had seen enough for one day. They 
 were in the very poorest condition for 
 a long walk, for their theories, so far
 
 132 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 from making them any happier, had 
 produced only ill effects. Dr. Sheep- 
 shanks' healthful exercise had given 
 them all stitches in the sides, and aches 
 in the back ; Dr. Smelfungus's knowl- 
 edge of botany had betrayed them 
 into such excesses of melon alias tur- 
 nip eating, that various queer doub- 
 lings up in the epigastric region began 
 to make themselves apparent ; the 
 natural philosophy, which had led Dr. 
 Van Noostile and his good friends to 
 parade along the middle of the road 
 in the sun, had given them furious 
 headaches; and, to crown all, Dr. Skihi 
 now made the most brilliant proposal 
 of anybody. 
 
 Our good doctor was evidently 
 brimming, one might say creaming,
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 133 
 
 over with the milk of human kindness ; 
 beyond a possible doubt he was about 
 to propound a discovery of benefit to 
 the whole world. His bald head 
 beamed benevolence, overflowing be- 
 neficence to all mankind radiated from 
 the very tails of his dressing gown as 
 he cried : 
 
 " My dear friends, you are all too 
 tired to walk home now, ain't you? 
 You would like to get there before 
 you could say ' Jack Robinson ' now, 
 wouldn't you ? and if I were to accom- 
 plish that happy end, you could never 
 be grateful enough now, could you ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! " exclaimed the 
 advocate of exercise, who wished from 
 his inmost soul, either that he had 
 taken less turnip, or that the famous
 
 131 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 seven league boots were on his legs at 
 that moment. 
 
 " Then all you have to do/' cried 
 Dr. Skihi with sparkling eyes, is to get 
 in a convenient posture ; allow me to 
 set off this retort of mine behind 
 you " here he produced a " glass 
 concern" from a side pocket, to the 
 horror of his friends "and heigh, 
 presto ! you will find yourself flying- 
 home like a skyrocket " 
 
 "And coming down like the 
 stick ! " gasped Dr. Smelfungus, retir- 
 ing in a hurry, for the tails of his 
 dressing gown and the gas retort of 
 Dr. Skihi were in inconvenient prox- 
 imity. 
 
 Dr. Skihi vouchsafed not another 
 word, but with an air of indescribable
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUK. 135 
 
 dignity adjusted the retort, took out 
 a cork and but words fail me to 
 describe the catastrophe ! Before Dr. 
 Mumbudget could rush forward to 
 prevent it, the gas had come in con- 
 tact with the air, become inflamed in- 
 stantly, and sent Dr. Skihi whirling 
 above the heads of his friends ! 
 
 Vesuvius in eruption, coal mines on 
 fire, mad bulls in the full rush, and 
 crackers exploding in a barrel, rushed 
 wildly through the heads of our phi- 
 losophers, and when, finally, the rock- 
 et-riding doctor was discharged on a 
 hayrick, the only person who retained 
 sufficient presence of mind to go and 
 pick him up was Mumbudget. 
 
 Poor Dr. Skihi ! The victim to sci- 
 ence remained insensible for some
 
 136 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 time ; and when lie finally recovered 
 his consciousness, could not at first be 
 persuaded that he was not in innu- 
 merable pieces. When he was, at last, 
 enabled to walk on, it was discovered 
 that while they were experimenting 
 they had lost their way, and might be 
 close to home or in the middle of 
 Kamtschatka for all they knew of the 
 road. It was again Mumbudget who 
 helped them out of this difficulty, by 
 speaking for the third time that day ; 
 and this third remark of the sage was 
 as much to the point as the two first. 
 " Ask somebody ! " propounded Mum- 
 budget, and after hobbling miserably 
 along for some time, this somebody 
 turned up in the person of a very 
 small, ragged, dirty urchin; and un-
 
 THE PHILOSOPHEKS' TOUE. 137 
 
 der the guidance of this contemptible 
 little snipe did our prodigies of wis- 
 dom arrive at last at the abode of 
 Science and Knowledge ! 
 
 As they entered the hall, Dr. Srnel- 
 fungus, with an admiring glance at the 
 speechless Mumbudget, exclaimed, 
 " After all, gentlemen, there must be 
 a science far higher than ours, since 
 we, with all our knowledge, find prac- 
 tical life a matter of such difficulty. 
 Only one man, it appears, is master of 
 it, and there he stands ! " and he made 
 a low bow to Mumbudget, who re- 
 turned it by another, without a word 
 of reply. 
 
 Dr. Skihi, at this, glanced with 
 profound contempt at Smelfungus, and 
 gave a " hum ! " that was echoed by
 
 138 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 the professor of health and him of 
 natural science ; then raising himself 
 on the tips of his toes, and seesawing 
 up and down at every word, he in- 
 quired, superciliously, "And pray, sir, 
 may I ask, in the name of my scien- 
 tific friends, what branch of science 
 you profess, which is superior to every 
 other?" 
 
 Mumbudget looked with a quiet 
 smile at the excited little doctor, and 
 replied, calmly : 
 
 " Gentlemen, I am the professor of 
 COMMON SENSE." 
 
 At this reply, the learned friends, 
 Sinelfungus not excepted, presented 
 a series of remarkably open counte- 
 nances, as respected eyes and mouths, 
 while Dr. Mumbudget went on :
 
 THE PHILOSOPHERS' TOUR. 139 
 
 " Chemistry, Botany, Natural Phi- 
 losophy, and Hygienics all put togeth- 
 er, gentlemen, have failed to ensure us 
 one day of rational enjoyment or ease ; 
 for all these sciences are pure absurd- 
 ities, unless they are put in the hands 
 of men who are governed by the 
 wholesome dictates of common sense. 
 My wise philosophers, will you come 
 to school to me ? " 
 
 The doctors gazed a moment yet ', 
 first at the proposer of this new doc- 
 trine, then at each other; and then, 
 all rushing forward at once, they seized 
 his hands. 
 
 " You are right, my dear Mumbud- 
 get ! " they exclaimed in a breath ; 
 " with all our science we are most 
 greatly in want of common sense !
 
 140 FUNNY BIG SOCKS. 
 
 Open your school at once ; we will be 
 the first to join its classes, and cele- 
 brate the triumph of Reason over 
 Philosophy ! " 
 
 THE END OF THE FIFTH BOOK.

 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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