Twilight Land
Twilight LandIntroductionThe Stool of FortuneThe Talisman of Solomon.Ill-Luck and the Fiddler.Empty Bottles.Good Gifts and a Fool’s Folly.The Good of a Few Words.Woman’s Wit.A Piece of Good Luck.The Fruit of Happiness.Not a Pin to Choose.Much shall have more and little shall have less.Wisdom’s Wages and Folly’s Pay.The Enchanted Island.All Things are as Fate wills.Where to Lay the Blame.The Salt of Life.Copyright
Twilight Land
Howard Pyle
Introduction
I found myself in Twilight Land.
How I ever got there I cannot tell, but there I was in Twilight
Land.What is Twilight Land? It is a wonderful, wonderful place
where no sun shines to scorch your back as you jog along the way,
where no rain falls to make the road muddy and hard to travel,
where no wind blows the dust into your eyes or the chill into your
marrow. Where all is sweet and quiet and ready to go to
bed.Where is Twilight Land? Ah! that I cannot tell you. You
will either have to ask your mother or find it for
yourself.There I was in Twilight Land. The birds were singing
their goodnight song, and the little frogs were piping “peet,
peet.” The sky overhead was full of still brightness, and the moon
in the east hung in the purple gray like a great bubble as yellow
as gold. All the air was full of the smell of growing things. The
high road was gray, and the trees were dark.I drifted along the road as a soap bubble floats
before the wind, or as a body floats in a dream. I floated along
and I floated along past the trees, past the bushes, past the
mill pond, past the mill where the old miller stood at the
door looking at me.I floated on, and there was the Inn, and it was the Sign
of Mother Goose.The sign hung on a pole, and on it was painted a picture
of Mother Goose with her gray gander.It was to the Inn I wished to come.I floated on, and I would have floated past the Inn, and
perhaps have gotten into the Land of Never-Come-Back-Again, only I
caught at the branch of an apple-tree, and so I stopped myself,
though the apple-blossoms came falling down like pink and white
snowflakes.The earth and the air and the sky were all still, just as
it is at twilight, and I heard them laughing and talking in the
tap-room of the Inn of the Sign of Mother Goose—the clinking of
glasses, and the rattling and clatter of knives and forks and
plates and dishes. That was where I wished to go.So in I went. Mother Goose herself opened the door, and
there I was.The room was all full of twilight; but there they sat,
every one of them. I did not count them, but there were ever so
many: Aladdin, and Ali Baba, and Fortunatis, and
Jack-the-Giant-Killer, and Doctor Faustus, and Bidpai, and
Cinderella, and Patient Grizzle, and the Soldier who cheated the
Devil, and St. George, and Hans in Luck, who traded and traded his
lump of gold until he had only an empty churn to show for it; and
there was Sindbad the Sailor, and the Tailor who killed seven flies
at a blow, and the Fisherman who fished up the Genie, and the Lad
who fiddled for the Jew in the bramble-bush, and the Blacksmith who
made Death sit in his apple-tree, and Boots, who always marries the
Princess, whether he wants to or not—a rag-tag lot as ever you saw
in your life, gathered from every place, and brought together in
Twilight Land.Each one of them was telling a story, and now it was the
turn of the Soldier who cheated the Devil.
“ I WILL tell you,” said the Soldier who cheated the
Devil, “a story of a friend of mine.”
“ Take a fresh pipe of tobacco,” said St.
George.
“ Thank you, I will,” said the Soldier who cheated the
Devil.He filled his long pipe full of tobacco, and then he
tilted it upside down and sucked in the light of the
candle.Puff! puff! puff! and a cloud of smoke went up about his
head, so that you could just see his red nose shining through it,
and his bright eyes twinkling in the midst of the smoke-wreath,
like two stars through a thin cloud on a summer
night.
“ I’ll tell you,” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil,
“the story of a friend of mine. ’Tis every word of it just as true
as that I myself cheated the Devil.”He took a drink from his mug of beer, and then he
began.
“’ Tis called,” said he—
The Stool of Fortune
Once upon a time there came a soldier marching along
the road, kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step—as
strapping and merry and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to
see in a summer day. Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as
he jogged along, though he carried a heavy musket over his shoulder
and though the sun shone hot and strong and there was never a tree
in sight to give him a bit of shelter.At last he came in sight of the King’s Town and to a great
field of stocks and stones, and there sat a little old man as
withered and brown as a dead leaf, and clad all in scarlet from
head to foot.
“Ho! soldier,” said he, “are you a good shot?”
“Aye,” said the soldier, “that is my trade.”
“Would you like to earn a dollar by shooting off your musket
for me?”
“Aye,” said the soldier, “that is my trade
also.”
“Very well, then,” said the little man in red, “here is a
silver button to drop into your gun instead of a bullet. Wait you
here, and about sunset there will come a great black bird flying.
In one claw it carries a feather cap and in the other a round
stone. Shoot me the silver button at that bird, and if your aim is
good it will drop the feather cap and the pebble. Bring them to me
to the great town-gate and I will pay you a dollar for your
trouble.”
“Very well,” said the soldier, “shooting my gun is a job that
fits me like an old coat.” So, down he sat and the old man went his
way.Well, there he sat and sat and sat and sat until the sun
touched the rim of the ground, and then, just as the old man said,
there came flying a great black bird as silent as night. The
soldier did not tarry to look or to think. As the bird flew by up
came the gun to his shoulder, squint went his eye along the
barrel—Puff! Bang!—I vow and declare that if the shot he fired had cracked
the sky he could not have been more frightened. The great black
bird gave a yell so terrible that it curdled the very blood in his
veins and made his hair stand upon end. Away it flew like a flash—a
bird no longer, but a great, black demon, smoking and smelling most
horribly of brimstone, and when the soldier gathered his wits,
there lay the feather cap and a little, round, black stone upon the
ground.
“Well,” said the soldier, “it is little wonder that the old
man had no liking to shoot at such game as that.” And thereupon he
popped the feather cap into one pocket and the round stone into
another, and shouldering his musket marched away until he reached
the town-gate, and there was the old man waiting for
him.
“Did you shoot the bird?” said he.
“I did,” said the soldier.
“And did you get the cap and the round stone?”
“I did.”
“Then here is your dollar.”
“Wait a bit,” said the soldier, “I shot greater game that
time than I bargained for, and so it’s ten dollars and not one you
shall pay me before you lay finger upon the feather cap and the
little stone.”
“Very well,” said the old man, “here are ten
dollars.”
“Ho! ho!” thought the soldier, “is that the way the wind
blows?”—“Did I say ten dollars?” said he; “’twas a hundred dollars
I meant.”At that the old man frowned until his eyes shone green. “Very
well,” said he, “if it is a hundred dollars you want, you will have
to come home with me, for I have not so much with me.” Thereupon he
entered the town with the soldier at his heels.Up one street he went and down another, until at last he came
to a great, black, ancient, ramshackle house; and that was where he
lived. In he walked without so much as a rap at the door, and so
led the way to a great room with furnaces and books and bottles and
jars and dust and cobwebs, and three grinning skulls upon the
mantelpiece, each with a candle stuck atop of it, and there he left
the soldier while he went to get the hundred dollars.The soldier sat him down upon a three-legged stool in the
corner and began staring about him; and he liked the looks of the
place as little as any he had seen in all of his life, for it
smelled musty and dusty, it did: the three skulls grinned at him,
and he began to think that the little old man was no better than he
should be. “I wish,” says he, at last, “that instead of being here
I might be well out of my scrape and in a safe place.”Now the little old man in scarlet was a great magician,
and there was little or nothing in that house that had not some
magic about it, and of all things the three-legged stool had been
conjured the most.
“I wish that instead of being here I might be well out of my
scrape, and in a safe place.” That was what the soldier said; and
hardly had the words left his lips when—whisk! whir!—away flew the
stool through the window, so suddenly that the soldier had only
just time enough to gripe it tight by the legs to save himself from
falling. Whir! whiz!—away it flew like a bullet. Up and up it
went—so high in the air that the earth below looked like a black
blanket spread out in the night; and then down it came again, with
the soldier still griping tight to the legs, until at last it
settled as light as a feather upon a balcony of the king’s palace;
and when the soldier caught his wind again he found himself without
a hat, and with hardly any wits in his head.There he sat upon the stool for a long time without daring to
move, for he did not know what might happen to him next. There he
sat and sat, and by-and-by his ears got cold in the night air, and
then he noticed for the first time that he had lost his head gear,
and bethought himself of the feather cap in his pocket. So out he
drew it and clapped it upon his head, and then—lo and behold!—he
found he had become as invisible as thin air—not a shred or a hair
of him could be seen. “Well!” said he, “here is another wonder, but
I am safe now at any rate.” And up he got to find some place not so
cool as where he sat.He stepped in at an open window, and there he found himself
in a beautiful room, hung with cloth of silver and blue, and with
chairs and tables of white and gold; dozens and scores of waxlights
shone like so many stars, and lit every crack and cranny as bright
as day, and there at one end of the room upon a couch, with her
eyelids closed and fast asleep, lay the prettiest princess that
ever the sun shone upon. The soldier stood and looked and looked at
her, and looked and looked at her, until his heart melted within
him like soft butter, and then he kissed her.“Who is that?” said the princess, starting up,
wide-awake, but not a soul could she see, because the soldier had
the feather cap upon his head.
“Who is that?” said she again; and then the soldier answered,
but without taking the feather cap from his head.
“It is I,” said he, “and I am King of the Wind, and ten times
greater than the greatest of kings here below. One day I saw you
walking in your garden and fell in love with you, and now I have
come to ask you if you will marry me and be my wife?”
“But how can I marry you?” said the princess, “without seeing
you?”
“You shall see me,” said the soldier, “all in good time.
Three days from now I will come again, and will show myself to you,
but just now it cannot be. But if I come, will you marry
me?”
“Yes I will,” said the princess, “for I like the way you
talk—that I do!”Thereupon the soldier kissed her and said good-bye, and then
stepped out of the window as he had stepped in. He sat him down
upon his three-legged stool. “I wish,” said he, “to be carried to
such and such a tavern.” For he had been in that town before, and
knew the places where good living was to be had.Whir! whiz! Away flew the stool as high and higher than it
had flown before, and then down it came again, and down and down
until it lit as light as a feather in the street before the tavern
door. The soldier tucked his feather cap in his pocket, and the
three-legged stool under his arm, and in he went and ordered a pot
of beer and some white bread and cheese.Meantime, at the king’s palace was such a gossiping and such
a hubbub as had not been heard there for many a day; for the pretty
princess was not slow in telling how the invisible King of the Wind
had come and asked her to marry him; and some said it was true and
some said it was not true, and everybody wondered and talked, and
told their own notions of the matter. But all agreed that three
days would show whether what had been told was true or
no.As for the soldier, he knew no more how to do what he had
promised to do than my grandmother’s cat; for where was he to get
clothes fine enough for the King of the Wind to wear? So there he
sat on his three-legged stool thinking and thinking, and if he had
known all that I know he would not have given two turns of his wit
upon it. “I wish,” says he, at last—“I wish that this stool could
help me now as well as it can carry me through the sky. I wish,”
says he, “that I had a suit of clothes such as the King of the Wind
might really wear.”The wonders of the three-legged stool were wonders
indeed!Hardly had the words left the soldier’s lips when down came
something tumbling about his ears from up in the air; and what
should it be but just such a suit of clothes as he had in his
mind—all crusted over with gold and silver and jewels.
“Well,” says the soldier, as soon as he had got over his
wonder again, “I would rather sit upon this stool than any I ever
saw.” And so would I, if I had been in his place, and had a few
minutes to think of all that I wanted.So he found out the trick of the stool, and after that
wishing and having were easy enough, and by the time the three days
were ended the real King of the Wind himself could not have cut a
finer figure. Then down sat the soldier upon his stool, and wished
himself at the king’s palace. Away he flew through the air, and
by-and-by there he was, just where he had been before. He put his
feather cap upon his head, and stepped in through the window, and
there he found the princess with her father, the king, and her
mother, the queen, and all the great lords and nobles waiting for
his coming; but never a stitch nor a hair did they see of him until
he stood in the very midst of them all. Then he whipped the feather
cap off of his head, and there he was, shining with silver and gold
and glistening with jewels—such a sight as man’s eyes never saw
before.
“Take her,” said the king, “she is yours.” And the soldier
looked so handsome in his fine clothes that the princess was as
glad to hear those words as any she had ever listened to in all of
her life.
“You shall,” said the king, “be married
to-morrow.”
“Very well,” said the soldier. “Only give me a plot of ground
to build a palace upon that shall be fit for the wife of the King
of the Wind to live in.”
“You shall have it,” said the king, “and it shall be the
great parade ground back of the palace, which is so wide and long
that all my army can march round and round in it without getting
into its own way; and that ought to be big enough.”
“Yes,” said the soldier, “it is.” Thereupon he put on his
feather cap and disappeared from the sight of all as quickly as one
might snuff out a candle.He mounted his three-legged stool and away he flew through
the air until he had come again to the tavern where he was lodging.
There he sat him down and began to churn his thoughts, and the
butter he made was worth the having, I can tell you. He wished for
a grand palace of white marble, and then he wished for all sorts of
things to fill it—the finest that could be had. Then he wished for
servants in clothes of gold and silver, and then he wished for fine
horses and gilded coaches. Then he wished for gardens and orchards
and lawns and flower-plats and fountains, and all kinds and sorts
of things, until the sweat ran down his face from hard thinking and
wishing. And as he thought and wished, all the things he thought
and wished for grew up like soap-bubbles from nothing at
all.Then, when day began to break, he wished himself with his
fine clothes to be in the palace that his own wits had made, and
away he flew through the air until he had come there safe and
sound.But when the sun rose and shone down upon the beautiful
palace and all the gardens and orchards around it, the king and
queen and all the court stood dumb with wonder at the sight. Then,
as they stood staring, the gates opened and out came the soldier
riding in his gilded coach with his servants in silver and gold
marching beside him, and such a sight the daylight never looked
upon before that day.Well, the princess and the soldier were married, and if
no couple had ever been happy in the world before, they were then.
Nothing was heard but feasting and merrymaking, and at night all
the sky was lit with fireworks. Such a wedding had never been
before, and all the world was glad that it had
happened.That is, all the world but one; that one was the old man
dressed in scarlet that the soldier had met when he first came to
town. While all the rest were in the hubbub of rejoicing, he put on
his thinking-cap, and by-and-by began to see pretty well how things
lay, and that, as they say in our town, there was a fly in the
milk-jug. “Ho, ho!” thought he, “so the soldier has found out all
about the three-legged stool, has he? Well, I will just put a spoke
into his wheel for him.” And so he began to watch for his chance to
do the soldier an ill turn.Now, a week or two after the wedding, and after all the gay
doings had ended, a grand hunt was declared, and the king and his
new son-in-law and all the court went to it. That was just such a
chance as the old magician had been waiting for; so the night
before the hunting-party returned he climbed the walls of the
garden, and so came to the wonderful palace that the soldier had
built out of nothing at all, and there stood three men keeping
guard so that no one might enter.But little that troubled the magician. He began to mutter
spells and strange words, and all of a sudden he was gone, and in
his place was a great black ant, for he had changed himself into an
ant. In he ran through a crack of the door (and mischief has got
into many a man’s house through a smaller hole for the matter of
that). In and out ran the ant through one room and another, and up
and down and here and there, until at last in a far-away part of
the magic palace he found the three-legged stool, and if I had been
in the soldier’s place I would have chopped it up into
kindling-wood after I had gotten all that I wanted. But there it
was, and in an instant the magician resumed his own shape. Down he
sat him upon the stool. “I wish,” said he, “that this palace and
the princess and all who are within it, together with its orchards
and its lawns and its gardens and everything, may be removed to
such and such a country, upon the other side of the
earth.”And as the stool had obeyed the soldier, so everything was
done now just as the magician said.The next morning back came the hunting-party, and as they
rode over the hill—lo and behold hold!—there lay stretched out the
great parade ground in which the king’s armies used to march around
and around, and the land was as bare as the palm of my hand. Not a
stick or a stone of the palace was left; not a leaf or a blade of
the orchards or gardens was to be seen.The soldier sat as dumb as a fish, and the king stared with
eyes and mouth wide open. “Where is the palace, and where is my
daughter?” said he, at last, finding words and wit.
“I do not know,” said the soldier.The king’s face grew as black as thunder. “You do not know?”
he said, “then you must find out. Seize the traitor!” he
cried.But that was easier said than done, for, quick as a wink, as
they came to lay hold of him, the soldier whisked the feather cap
from his pocket and clapped it upon his head, and then they might
as well have hoped to find the south wind in winter as to find
him.But though he got safe away from that trouble he was deep
enough in the dumps, you may be sure of that. Away he went, out
into the wide world, leaving that town behind him. Away he went,
until by-and-by he came to a great forest, and for three days he
travelled on and on—he knew not whither. On the third night, as he
sat beside a fire which he had built to keep him warm, he suddenly
bethought himself of the little round stone which had dropped from
the bird’s claw, and which he still had in his pocket. “Why should
it not also help me,” said he, “for there must be some wonder about
it.” So he brought it out, and sat looking at it and looking at it,
but he could make nothing of it for the life of him. Nevertheless,
it might have some wishing power about it, like the magic stool. “I
wish,” said the soldier, “that I might get out of this scrape.”
That is what we have all wished many and many a time in a like
case; but just now it did the soldier no more good to wish than it
does good for the rest of us. “Bah!” said he, “it is nothing but a
black stone after all.” And then he threw it into the
fire.Puff! Bang! Away flew the embers upon every side, and back
tumbled the soldier, and there in the middle of the flame stood
just such a grim, black being as he had one time shot at with the
silver button.As for the poor soldier, he just lay flat on his back and
stared with eyes like saucers, for he thought that his end had come
for sure.
“What are my lord’s commands?” said the being, in a voice
that shook the marrow of the soldier’s bones.
“Who are you?” said the soldier.“I am the spirit of the stone,” said the being. “You
have heated it in the flame, and I am here. Whatever you command I
must obey.”
“Say you so?” cried the soldier, scrambling to his feet.
“Very well, then, just carry me to where I may find my wife and my
palace again.”Without a word the spirit of the stone snatched the soldier
up, and flew away with him swifter than the wind. Over forest, over
field, over mountain and over valley he flew, until at last, just
at the crack of day, he set him down in front of his own palace
gate in the far country where the magician had transported
it.After that the soldier knew his way quickly enough. He
clapped his feather cap upon his head and into the palace he went,
and from one room to another, until at last he came to where the
princess sat weeping and wailing, with her pretty eyes red from
long crying.Then the soldier took off his cap again, and you may guess
what sounds of rejoicing followed. They sat down beside one
another, and after the soldier had eaten, the princess told him all
that had happened to her; how the magician had found the stool, and
how he had transported the palace to this far-away land; how he
came every day and begged her to marry him—which she would rather
die than do.To all this the soldier listened, and when she had ended her
story he bade her to dry her tears, for, after all, the jug was
only cracked, and not past mending. Then he told her that when the
sorcerer came again that day she should say so and so and so and
so, and that he would be by to help her with his feather cap upon
his head.After that they sat talking together as happy as two
turtle-doves, until the magician’s foot was heard on the stairs.
And then the soldier clapped his feather cap upon his head just as
the door opened.
“Snuff, snuff!” said the magician, sniffing the air, “here is
a smell of Christian blood.”
“Yes,” said the princess, “that is so; there came a peddler
to-day, but after all he did not stay long.”
“He’d better not come again,” said the magician, “or it will
be the worse for him. But tell me, will you marry me?”
“No,” said the princess, “I shall not marry you until you can
prove yourself to be a greater man than my husband.”
“Pooh!” said the magician, “that will be easy enough to
prove; tell me how you would have me do so and I will do
it.”
“Very well,” said the princess, “then let me see you change
yourself into a lion. If you can do that I may perhaps believe you
to be as great as my husband.”
“It shall,” said the magician, “be as you say.” He began to
mutter spells and strange words, and then all of a sudden he was
gone, and in his place there stood a lion with bristling mane and
flaming eyes—a sight fit of itself to kill a body with
terror.
“That will do!” cried the princess, quaking and trembling at
the sight, and thereupon the magician took his own shape
again.
“Now,” said he, “do you believe that I am as great as the
poor soldier?”
“Not yet,” said the princess; “I have seen how big you can
make yourself, now I wish to see how little you can become. Let me
see you change yourself into a mouse.”
“So be it,” said the magician, and began again to mutter his
spells. Then all of a sudden he was gone just as he was gone
before, and in his place was a little mouse sitting up and looking
at the princess with a pair of eyes like glass beads.But he did not sit there long. This was what the soldier had
planned for, and all the while he had been standing by with his
feather hat upon his head. Up he raised his foot, and down he set
it upon the mouse.Crunch!—that was an end of the magician.After that all was clear sailing; the soldier hunted up
the three-legged stool and down he sat upon it, and by dint of no
more than just a little wishing, back flew palace and garden and
all through the air again to the place whence it came.I do not know whether the old king ever believed again that
his son-in-law was the King of the Wind; anyhow, all was peace and
friendliness thereafter, for when a body can sit upon a
three-legged stool and wish to such good purpose as the soldier
wished, a body is just as good as a king, and a good deal better,
to my mind.The Soldier who cheated the Devil looked into his pipe;
it was nearly out. He puffed and puffed and the coal glowed
brighter, and fresh clouds of smoke rolled up into the air. Little
Brown Betty came and refilled, from a crock of brown foaming ale,
the mug which he had emptied. The Soldier who had cheated the Devil
looked up at her and winked one eye.
“ Now,” said St. George, “it is the turn of yonder old
man,” and he pointed, as he spoke, with the stem of his pipe
towards old Bidpai, who sat with closed eyes meditating inside of
himself.The old man opened his eyes, the whites of which were as
yellow as saffron, and wrinkled his face into innumerable cracks
and lines. Then he closed his eyes again; then he opened them
again; then he cleared his throat and began:
“There was once upon a time a man whom other men called Aben Hassen
the Wise—”
“ One moment,” said Ali Baba; “will you not tell us what
the story is about?”Old Bidpai looked at him and stroked his long white
beard. “It is,” said he, “about—”
The Talisman of Solomon.
There was once upon a time a man whom other men called Aben
Hassen the Wise. He had read a thousand books of magic, and knew
all that the ancients or moderns had to tell of the hidden
arts.
The King of the Demons of the Earth, a great and hideous
monster, named Zadok, was his servant, and came and went as Aben
Hassen the Wise ordered, and did as he bade. After Aben Hassen
learned all that it was possible for man to know, he said to
himself, “Now I will take my ease and enjoy my life.” So he called
the Demon Zadok to him, and said to the monster, “I have read in my
books that there is a treasure that was one time hidden by the
ancient kings of Egypt—a treasure such as the eyes of man never saw
before or since their day. Is that true?”
“It is true,” said the Demon.
“Then I command thee to take me to that treasure and to show
it to me,” said Aben Hassen the Wise.
“It shall be done,” said the Demon; and thereupon he caught
up the Wise Man and transported him across mountain and valley,
across land and sea, until he brought him to a country known as the
“Land of the Black Isles,” where the treasure of the ancient kings
was hidden. The Demon showed the Magician the treasure, and it was
a sight such as man had never looked upon before or since the days
that the dark, ancient ones hid it. With his treasure Aben Hassen
built himself palaces and gardens and paradises such as the world
never saw before. He lived like an emperor, and the fame of his
doings rang through all the four corners of the earth.
Now the queen of the Black Isles was the most beautiful woman
in the world, but she was as cruel and wicked and cunning as she
was beautiful. No man that looked upon her could help loving her;
for not only was she as beautiful as a dream, but her beauty was of
that sort that it bewitched a man in spite of himself.
One day the queen sent for Aben Hassen the Wise. “Tell me,”
said she, “is it true that men say of you that you have discovered
a hidden treasure such as the world never saw before?” And she
looked at Aben Hassen so that his wisdom all crumbled away like
sand, and he became just as foolish as other men.
“Yes,” said he, “it is true.”
Aben Hassen the Wise spent all that day with the queen, and
when he left the palace he was like a man drunk and dizzy with
love. Moreover, he had promised to show the queen the hidden
treasure the next day.
As Aben Hassen, like a man in a dream, walked towards his own
house, he met an old man standing at the corner of the street. The
old man had a talisman that hung dangling from a chain, and which
he offered for sale. When Aben Hassen saw the talisman he knew very
well what it was—that it was the famous talisman of King Solomon
the Wise. If he who possessed the talisman asked it to speak, it
would tell that man both what to do and what not to do.
The Wise Man bought the talisman for three pieces of silver
(and wisdom has been sold for less than that many a time), and as
soon as he had the talisman in his hands he hurried home with it
and locked himself in a room.
“Tell me,” said the Wise Man to the Talisman, “shall I marry
the beautiful queen of the Black Isles?”
“Fly, while there is yet time to escape!” said the Talisman;
“but go not near the queen again, for she seeks to destroy thy
life.”
“But tell me, O Talisman!” said the Wise Man, “what then
shall I do with all that vast treasure of the kings of
Egypt?”
“Fly from it while there is yet chance to escape!” said the
Talisman; “but go not into the treasure-house again, for in the
farther door, where thou hast not yet looked, is that which will
destroy him who possesses the treasure.”
“But Zadok,” said Aben Hassen; “what of Zadok?”
“Fly from the monster while there is yet time to escape,”
said the Talisman, “and have no more to do with thy Demon slave,
for already he is weaving a net of death and destruction about thy
feet.”
The Wise Man sat all that night pondering and thinking upon
what the Talisman had said. When morning came he washed and dressed
himself, and called the Demon Zadok to him. “Zadok,” said he,
“carry me to the palace of the queen.” In the twinkling of an eye
the Demon transported him to the steps of the palace.
“Zadok,” said the Wise Man, “give me the staff of life and
death;” and the Demon brought from under his clothes a wand,
one-half of which was of silver and one-half of which was of gold.
The Wise Man touched the steps of the palace with the silver end of
the staff. Instantly all the sound and hum of life was hushed. The
thread of life was cut by the knife of silence, and in a moment all
was as still as death.
“Zadok,” said the Wise Man, “transport me to the
treasure-house of the king of Egypt.” And instantly the Demon had
transported him thither. The Wise Man drew a circle upon the earth.
“No one,” said he, “shall have power to enter here but the master
of Zadok, the King of the Demons of the Earth.”
“And now, Zadok,” said he, “I command thee to transport me to
India, and as far from here as thou canst.” Instantly the Demon did
as he was commanded; and of all the treasure that he had, the Wise
Man took nothing with him but a jar of golden money and a jar of
silver money. As soon as the Wise Man stood upon the ground of
India, he drew from beneath his robe a little jar of glass.
“Zadok,” said he, “I command thee to enter this jar.”
Then the Demon knew that now his turn had come. He besought
and implored the Wise Man to have mercy upon him; but it was all in
vain. Then the Demon roared and bellowed till the earth shook and
the sky grew dark overhead. But all was of no avail; into the jar
he must go, and into the jar he went. Then the Wise Man stoppered
the jar and sealed it. He wrote an inscription of warning upon it,
and then he buried it in the ground.
“Now,” said Aben Hassen the Wise to the Talisman of Solomon,
“have I done everything that I should?”
“No,” said the Talisman, “thou shouldst not have brought the
jar of golden money and the jar of silver money with thee; for that
which is evil in the greatest is evil in the least. Thou fool! The
treasure is cursed! cast it all from thee while there is yet
time.”
“Yes, I will do that, too,” said the Wise Man. So he buried
in the earth the jar of gold and the jar of silver that he had
brought with him, and then he stamped the mould down upon it. After
that the Wise Man began his life all over again. He bought, and he
sold, and he traded, and by-and-by he became rich. Then he built
himself a great house, and in the foundation he laid the jar in
which the Demon was bottled.
Then he married a young and handsome wife. By-and-by the wife
bore him a son, and then she died.
This son was the pride of his father’s heart; but he was as
vain and foolish as his father was wise, so that all men called him
Aben Hassen the Fool, as they called the father Aben Hassen the
Wise.
Then one day death came and called the old man, and he left
his son all that belonged to him—even the Talisman of
Solomon.
Young Aben Hassen the Fool had never seen so much money as
now belonged to him. It seemed to him that there was nothing in the
world he could not enjoy. He found friends by the dozens and
scores, and everybody seemed to be very fond of him.
He asked no questions of the Talisman of Solomon, for to his
mind there was no need of being both wise and rich. So he began
enjoying himself with his new friends. Day and night there was
feasting and drinking and singing and dancing and merrymaking and
carousing; and the money that the old man had made by trading and
wise living poured out like water through a sieve.
Then, one day came an end to all this junketing, and nothing
remained to the young spendthrift of all the wealth that his father
had left him. Then the officers of the law came down upon him and
seized all that was left of the fine things, and his fair-weather
friends flew away from his troubles like flies from vinegar. Then
the young man began to think of the Talisman of Wisdom. For it was
with him as it is with so many of us: When folly has emptied the
platter, wisdom is called in to pick the bones.
“Tell me,” said the young man to the Talisman of Solomon,
“what shall I do, now that everything is gone?”
“Go,” said the Talisman of Solomon, “and work as thy father
has worked before thee. Advise with me and become prosperous and
contented, but do not go dig under the cherry-tree in the
garden.”
“Why should I not dig under the cherry-tree in the garden?”
says the young man; “I will see what is there, at any rate.”
So he straightway took a spade and went out into the garden,
where the Talisman had told him not to go. He dug and dug under the
cherry-tree, and by-and-by his spade struck something hard. It was
a vessel of brass, and it was full of silver money. Upon the lid of
the vessel were these words, engraved in the handwriting of the old
man who had died:
“My son, this vessel full of silver has been brought from the
treasure-house of the ancient kings of Egypt. Take this, then, that
thou findest; advise with the Talisman; be wise and
prosper.”
“And they call that the Talisman of Wisdom,” said the young
man. “If I had listened to it I never would have found this
treasure.”
The next day he began to spend the money he had found, and
his friends soon gathered around him again.
The vessel of silver money lasted a week, and then it was all
gone; not a single piece was left.
Then the young man bethought himself again of the Talisman of
Solomon. “What shall I do now,” said he, “to save myself from
ruin?”
“Earn thy bread with honest labor,” said the Talisman, “and I
will teach thee how to prosper; but do not dig beneath the fig-tree
that stands by the fountain in the garden.”
The young man did not tarry long after he heard what the
Talisman had said. He seized a spade and hurried away to the
fig-tree in the garden as fast as he could run. He dug and dug, and
by-and-by his spade struck something hard. It was a copper vessel,
and it was filled with gold money. Upon the lid of the vessel was
engraved these words in the handwriting of the old man who had
gone: “My son, my son,” they said, “thou hast been warned once; be
warned again. The gold money in this vessel has been brought from
the treasure-house of the ancient kings of Egypt. Take it; be
advised by the Talisman of Solomon; be wise and prosper.”
“And to think that if I had listened to the Talisman, I would
never have found this,” said the young man.
The gold in the vessel lasted maybe for a month of jollity
and merrymaking, but at the end of that time there was nothing
left—not a copper farthing.
“Tell me,” said the young man to the Talisman, “what shall I
do now?”
“
