He remembered with heartfelt gratitude the old soldier, to whom he was solely indebted for his good fortune; and after some months went to the Weser bridge to find him. He too had not forgotten the generous stranger, and often were his eyes keenly directed in search of his benefactor among the passengers. At length he one day saw a richly-dressed man at a distance, who appeared to resemble the stranger; he approached him hesitatingly, but greeted him with a friendly welcome when he found he was not mistaken.
Francis returned the old man’s greetings, and said, “Friend, can you walk with me as far as the new town, upon a business that concerns yourself? Your trouble shall not go unrewarded.”
“Why not?” answered the soldier. “Though I have a wooden leg, I can get on with it as fast as the lame dwarf who has charge of the city cattle. But wait a moment till that man in the gray coat has passed; every day about this time he gives me a six-groat piece.”
“Follow me now,” said Francis, “you shall not miss the six-groat piece.”
The old man obeyed, and hobbled after Francis, across the little Weser bridge, and over the dyke into Sortillen-street, where the latter stopped opposite a newly-built house, and knocked at the door. It was opened. Francis conducted the soldier in.
“Friend,” said he, “you formerly procured me a delightful evening by means of what you related to me; it is but just I should make the evening of your life serene. This house, with all it contains, and the garden in which it stands, are yours. The kitchen and cellar are well stored; a servant is ready to wait upon you; and, moreover, you will find a six-groat piece every day, at noon, under your plate. The man in the gray coat was my servant, through whom I daily sent you that sum, until this place was ready for you.”
The old man was so surprised with his good fortune that he could not comprehend it. A flood of grateful tears flowed down his cheeks: but he was unable to find words to thank and bless his benefactor.
Francis now made a better use of his wealth than before. He lived frugally, and carried on his affairs with equal industry and integrity. Thus he obliterated among his fellow-citizens all memory of the dishonour which his former prodigality had drawn upon him, and died, honoured and beloved, at a good old age.
HANS IN LUCK.
(By Grimm.)
Hans had served his master seven years, when he resolved to speak to him. “Sir, my time is out. I should now like to go home again to my mother; so pay me my wages.”
“You have served me well and faithfully,” replied his master. “Your reward shall correspond.”
With these words he gave him a lump of gold as big as his head. Hans took out his pocket handkerchief, wrapped it round the lump which he placed upon his shoulder, and set forth for home.
As he was trudging along, putting one leg before the other with tolerable agility, he saw a horseman coming towards him, sitting at his ease upon an excellent steed.
“Ah!” quoth Hans, as the traveller trotted by, “what a comfortable thing riding is! There sits one, as pleasantly as if he were in a chair, stumbling against no stones, wearing out no shoes, and getting on, he hardly knows how.”
“Well Hans,” said the horseman, who overheard him, “and why do you tramp it then on foot?”
“Ah!” quoth Hans, “I must get this lump home; it is gold to be sure; but I can hardly hold up my head for it, and it galls my shoulders confoundedly!”
“I’ll tell you what,” replied the traveller, “we’ll exchange. I’ll give you my horse, and you shall give me your lump.”
“With all my heart,” said Hans, “but I can tell you one thing; you will find it a hard job to carry it.”
The horseman alighted; took the lump of gold, and helped Hans in the saddle. He then gave him the bridle,
