my good friend Nathan in Hell my audience will laugh at me and in derision they will exclaim: 'O yes! what a delightful fairy tale you are telling.' When I reply that it is not a fairy tale but the sober truth they will all cry out in chorus, 'Prove it.' Now just help me to prove my tale."
"Very well. Stretch out the little finger of your left hand and reach over until it is about half-an-inch in here. I will then come as near as I can and touch it. You will immediately have all the proof you need."
"I am ready. Here we are touching one another. ... Stop it, please, you are burning my finger. It is not only burning, it is shining with a blue light and smells of sulphur. Enough! I have proof, much more than I ever wished to have! Can't you help me to get rid of the burning pain and the shining effect? I don't like it at all."
"No, no, be satisfied. It is only the tip of your finger and not your whole body that is on fire. Now go the way I pointed out, and all will be well. Farewell, and don't come back."
"Farewell."
Nathan saw his friend with his harp under his arm beginning his return journey. On and on he went, and after wandering many days in strange lands, crossing hills and dales, fields and deserts, he came at last to his own city. How glad he was to reach his home! All who saw him were astonished to see
