Page:Legends of Rubezahl, and Other Tales (1845).djvu/195

bestriding, invisible to mortal ken, his whirlwind, dashed round the fir trunk, whizz! whirr! and down went the basket, and smash, crash, went Master Stephen’s stock in trade all to atoms. The disappointed schemer was himself knocked down by the blast; as he came to, he heard a loud horse-laugh in the distance, which the echoes insultingly repeated all round him. It was clear to the wretched pedler that this must be the work of some malicious spirit; the sudden rush of wind, in such calm weather, was perfectly unnatural; and he was confirmed in his impression when, on turning round, he found that tree and trunk had utterly disappeared. Unable to control himself, he began to rave at the unseen author of all this mischief. “Rubezahl, vile wretch!” he furiously exclaimed, “what have I done to thee that thou should’st rob me of the bit of bread, I had earned by the sweat of my brow? I am an undone man for life!” He then went to work calling the Gnome all the names he could set his tongue to, in pure desperation. “Devil!” cried he, “since thou hast bereft me of all I had in the world, come and finish thy work; come and strangle me.” And sooth to say, the poor wretch at that moment valued his life no more than he did his broken glass; but Rubezahl, who was looking on, highly amused, at a little distance, would not oblige him to this extent, and allowed himself to be neither