for a good dram would confirm their hearts to their design, and accordingly they bound the cask to a tree before the door. No sooner did Kibitz perceive that he was alone than he began to think how he should free himself. Soon he heard, tramp, tramp, a flock of sheep coming by, and he called out ‘I wont be burgomaster, I wont be burgomaster.’ The astonished shepherd asked the meaning of this exclamation. ‘Ha,’ said Kibitz, ‘they want to make a burgomaster of me, and to that I won’t consent, and therefore they are resolved to drown me.’ ‘I should well like to be burgomaster,’ answered the shepherd. ‘Then let me out,’ replied Kibitz; ‘creep into the cask yourself, and they will make you burgomaster.’ No sooner said than done: the shepherd crept into the vessel, and Kibitz was free, and joyfully drove the sheep towards his village.
The peasants now came out of the ale-house, and began to roll on the cask, while the shepherd cried ‘I will be burgomaster; I will be burgomaster.’ ‘That we can easily believe,’ answered the peasants, and splash went the cask into the water, and they went homewards, rejoicing in what they had done; but just as they were entering the village at one end, Kibitz, to their great astonishment, drove in his flock of sheep at the other. ‘Whence come you, Kibitz?’ was echoed from all sides. ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘did you observe the white bladders that rose when you flung me into the water? the stream is enchanted: all those white bladders were sheep, out of which I collected this little flock; there are thousands more in the water yet.’ ‘And can we also get some?’ asked the peasants. ‘Why not?’ was the answer: you have only to jump in and fetch them.’
It was now concluded that all the peasants should fetch sheep, first the bailiff, and then the others in succession. Accordingly the bailiff leaped in first, and the white bladders instantly rising, his comrades began to be alarmed, lest he should take too many, to prevent which they plunged in after him: all were drowned, and Kibitz, inheriting the whole village, became a rich man.
THE MANIAC.
At the commencement of the eighteenth century, the Illuminati, or sect of Astrologers, had excited considerable sensation on the continent. Blending philosophy with enthusiasm, and uniting to a knowledge of every chemical process a profound acquaintance with astronomy, their influence over the superstitious feelings of their countrymen was prodigious. In one or two instances the infatuation was attended with fatal consequences; but in no case was the result so dreadful as in the subsequent narrative:—
Reginald, sole heir of the illustrious family of Di Venoni, was remarkable, from his earliest infancy, for a wild enthusiastic disposition. His father, it was currently reported, had died of an hereditary insanity; and his friends, when they marked the wild mysterious intelligency of his eye, and the determined energy of his aspect, would often assert that the dreadful malady still lingered in the veins of young Reginald. Whether such was the case or not, certain it is, that his mode of existence was but ill calculated to eradicate any symptoms of insanity. Left at an early age to the guidance of his mother, who since the death of her husband had lived in the strictest seclusion, he experienced but little variety to divert or enliven his attention. The gloomy chateau in which he resided was situated on the borders of the Black Forest. It was a wild isolated mansion, built after the fashion of the day in the gloomiest style of Gothic architecture. At a distance rose the ruins of the once celebrated Castle of Hernswolf, of which at present but a mouldering tower remained; and, beyond, the landscape was terminated by the deep shades and impenetrable recesses of the Black Forest.
