THE GERMAN STUDENT'S TALE.

THERE is hardly a district in Germany that is not under the influence of some Spirit or Demon, Gnome or Kobold; but there is not one at all resembling the Herr der Berge, who presides over the mining district of the Riesengebirge. He is a strange character, and very difficult to define, being just as the whim of the moment makes him; kind one moment, cross the next, a warm friend or a bitter enemy, mild and courteous, irritable and churlish, condescending, haughty, a liberal, or a tyrant. As to his external appearance, he is, if possible, still more inexplicable. Here, he is a very Adonis, there, a hideous hobgoblin with tail and ears of surpassing size; his favourite disguise is perhaps that of a charcoal-burner, in which shape he may have passed us to-day-who knows? He is peculiarly touchy and sensitive on several points; for instance, he abominates the name of Rübezahl, which, by the by, is only a nickname. His police is quite equal to Napoleon's, if not better. He will allow no oppression in his dominions, except his own: and having an insight at once into men's characters, he will permit no one to settle in the Gebirge, whose reputation has a shady side to it.

Three cottages are all that remain of a thriving village called Gooseback (Gansbach in German). The name, I believe, like other names of remote antiquity, was derived from some local circumstances. It was famous for the number of geese that inhabited the spot. Its patron saint was St. Michael: and the only house of entertainment in the village was known by the sign of the Golden Goose. So everything was in perfect keeping, the name of the place, the sign of the inn, and the character of its inhabitants.

What rare doings there used to be at the Golden Goose! but of all the days in the week, Sunday was the one when the most fun was going on. Somehow or other, it always happened that an itinerant band of Bohemian musicians arrived there on Saturday night, to be ready for the morrow-a capital harvest it was for them. The choice spirits of the neighbourhood generally mustered about church-time, and the sound of the church-bells was often drowned in the roar of the chorus, or the tramp of the dance. There was one song which was regularly sung as a sort of prologue to the revels, and as it is not unconnected with our plot, I must endeavour to render it in translation.

To-day it is Sunday- 'tis Monday to-morrow!
To-day give to play-give to-morrow to sorrow!
Let us dance, let us sing, that we may not repent
On a Monday, the hours of a Sunday mis-spent.

My merry boys all! let us each choose his mate!
There's Lizzy for thee, boy! for me pretty Kate!
Each fair one will give without coyness on Sunday
The kiss that her lover must steal on the Monday.

"Here's a health to ourselves! hob or nob, boys, all round,
"Till the echoes shall dance to our glasses' shrill sound.
"Let us drink! let us drink, boys! we'll never repent
"On a Monday, the hours of a Sunday mis-spent.

It was Sunday-The song and the dance were in high train as usual, save that perhaps the orgies were even more uproarious than they were wont to be, the very walls of the house were shaking with the boisterous peals of laughter, and Frau Wihkelhaus, the Burgomaster's wife, had declared she could not hear the organ in church for the hideous shouts of the chorus at the public-house, (to be sure, she was rather hard of hearing,) when a young lad, to all appearance a travelling student, entered the village, and, attracted by the joyous sounds he heard, stopped short in front of the Golden Goose.

After hesitating a moment or two, as if to come to terms with his conscience for joining such a heathenish set, he stepped into the house. His appearance in the public room seemed to make some sensation, for our youth was handsomely dressed, and a blush which mantled his fair cheek told that he was unused to such scenes. The noise was hushed, however; a rude stare was all the acknowledgment he got for a graceful bow to the company, so he modestly retired to a corner of the table, and ordering a jug of beer, it was immediately brought him by a smart serving wench, from whom his large blue eyes and beautiful glossy ringlets drew forth a patronising smile.

Certain it is that his gentlemanly address and innocent look had a wonderful effect on the landlord of the Golden Goose. He was an arrant rogue-it was a rare occurrence for him to see any thing like a respectable customer; in fact, his dealings were almost exclusively confined to the vagabond loose set of the neighbourhood; for the house had a bad name, and the wayfarer, unless of the same stamp, seldom made it a halting place. It occurred to him that he might make something out of the youth, nor was he long in settling his plans for the

purpose.

The student was evidently shy and modest, so our host tutors the laughter-loving Hebe, above mentioned, to get into conversation with the lad. She is to stick at no kind of nonsense, to interlard her language with the most extravagant bombast, in short, she is to quiz him cruelly; and right well did she acquit herself. The poor youth was soon ready to sink into the floor with shame and embarrassment; he knew not where to turn to rid himself of his malicious tormentor.

The coarse, loud laugh of the landlord at the success of his scheme soon brought all the party crowding round: they too joined in the fun, and the more absurdly and impudently the she-devil conducted herself the more was the misery of her victim increased, and louder the demonstrations of delight from the pitiless crew around.

grew

For a time the young lad bore his persecution meekly enough; at length, however, he seemed to pluck up spirit. Rising hastily from the table, he said in a determined tone: "It is too bad, mine host, to permit such an idle, profligate set of scamps to frequent your house on the Lord's day. To say nothing of the treatment I have received at your hands, I tell you such unholy doings will have their reward."

With these words he threw on the table a piece of coin double the amount of his reckoning, and was moving towards the door, when the landlord seized him roughly by the arm and pulled him back into the room. "Ho, ho! my pretty little moralist in plain clothes," cried he, with a fiendish grin; "So you're coming the parson over us-eh? By my troth, worthy sirs," (addressing the company,) 66 we must mend our manners in such a presence. Our old grumbler of a vicar is not fit to hold the candle to this piece of innocence. But what I say is this;

here we are now within the precincts of the Golden Goose, our business is to be merry, and I hold it my duty, as a conscientious and upright landlord, to see that all goes on smoothly under my roof. Let us, my worthy guests, make this youngster atone for that unsavoury speech of his about-what was it?-profligate scamps? We will keep him here to do as we do, and, I warrant ye, we'll soon wash his sanctity out of him.”

A wild brutal burst of laughter followed this harangue of the landlord's, and the poor lad, in spite of all his remonstrances and entreaties, was forced to seat himself at the table with the rest of the party, and, as a matter of course, to pledge them all round in bumpers.

The wine was not slow in taking effect. By degrees the sober, serious demeanour of the stranger youth wore off: he became gayer and gayer, till at last he entered warmly into the spirit of all that was going forward, and his laugh might have been heard above all the others.

"Mine host is a jolly dog!" cried he. "He was in the right of it, -the devil take all sanctity, say I-Ho! there! more wine”—and he dashed down on the table a handful of gold coin.

"Ei der tausend !"—" Gold !"—" real sterling gold!" every exclamation that the utmost astonishment could call forth, burst from each one as he glared upon the shining metal; but, before they could recover from their stupor, the greedy clutch of the landlord had secured every piece, and it was already locked up in his strong box. He speedily appeared with a fresh supply of wine.

And now began the wildest orgies that can be conceived. The music struck up with mad vigour; some danced to it with frantic gestures, others sang or shouted, each his own scrap of a chorus; two or three were nearly convulsed with idiot-like laughter, while their neighbours were vying one with another in giving utterance to the most horrible blasphemies. One object, however, seemed common to all; viz. that of making each his own voice rise above the rest. In the mean time the cunning host was feeding the flame by cheering them on. He and the stranger seemed to be those of the party on whom the wine had had least effect, but the latter was evidently enjoying the scene beyond measure.

At last there was a pause-perhaps they were all exhausted.

The silence was broken by old Kunze, the Collector of the Revenue, who reeling up to the youth, and embracing him with affectionate fervour, stammered out, "Brother mine, they're all-drunk-ev-e-ry. soul of 'em-cept us two-thou suck-kest it in like a fis-fish; and art as sober-'s-a judge.-Canst tea-teach me-the tr-tri-trick -eh?

The stranger replied by singing as follows:

"In riot and pleasures

"No puling half measures!

"But fill the deep bowl to the brim ! ha! ha!

"Then up to the chin

"Let us boldly plunge in

"He will drown in delight, that can't swim! ha! ha!

"Brother mine!" cried old Kunze, hugging him again," Brother mine-speak the tr-truth-and-dont t-tell a lie-hast got more gold, eh?"

Pulling out another handful of gold, the youth dashed it down on the table, and sang:

"Gold, gold is the essence of life and of love,

"And wine is the spirit to make us enjoy it.
""Tis gold makes our joys rival those of above,
"When wine has inspired the right way to employ it.

"Then fill!-bere's a toast!

"To the lovely Gold coast!

"To gold, with its sweets and its bitters!

"But with pure or alloyed

"May we never be cloyed,

"For on earth, 'tis not all gold that glitters !"

There was an expression thrown into the last words of the song, which, if it was not sarcastic, sounded uncommonly like it, and perhaps if the listeners had not well drunk they might have observed a most meaning smile playing on the countenance of the singer as he gave that peculiar emphasis to the toast he proposed. They, however, had eyes only for the gold.

"Ho! there!" bawled the individual who seemed to be leader of the revels: " bring the dice.-Wilt make a cast, comrade?”

They played, but the run of luck seemed to be against the stranger, and although the dice had the appearance of being fair, he was soon cleaned out effectually. The sum he lost was very large, and the whole of it was in gold specie. Fortune evidently favoured the landlord, who came in for the lion's share of the spoil.

And now the old Revenue Collector bethought him of a project, "Brother mine! the devil's in the dice," said he to the youth; "if thou hast more gold-shalt be my son-in-law-what sayst?-my Chri -Christel's a tempting br-bride."

Such an arrangement, however, did not altogether meet the views of our host: such rare pickings were too good to be lost; the alliance must be prevented.

"Strike up there!" he shouted out to the musicians; "blow away! strain your lungs till the very chimneys dance on the housetop! my honoured guests will have another dance;" so saying, he himself led out one of the serving maids, and began spinning round the room with her.

"Wilt not dance?" croaked old Kunze, who saw the stranger standing alone, and looking on at the dancers. "Have a turn with thy -bride-eh? I'll straight fet-ch-my Chr-ristel-and my tiresome -old rib-too-They must-all dance Ev-ever-y-body-must dance-t'day-Rum-ti-id-ity-round we go!"-so he begun capering round the room, till one leg interfering with the other, he rolled over, and was soon snoring under the table like a watch-dog in the sunshine. They kept it up thus till daybreak, when all those who had not joined the old taxgatherer under the table, reeled off to their dwellings, where their first care was to lock up carefully (as the host had done) the winnings of the night before, and then they betook themselves to bed just at the hour when all sober, well-regulated folks were getting up to begin the ordinary business of the day.

The stranger and the landlord alone remained, neither apparently much the worse for the debauch. "Well, fair sir," quoth the latter, "how like you your treatment? You will do well now to lie down a little to rest yourself; and, if you've any more of those same gold

pieces, we 'll have a jolly bout of it to-night, ay, and again to-morrow too!"

His guest had now established himself very comfortably in a great arm-chair behind the stove. After a yawn or two he replied, “Give yourself no trouble about the reckoning, my fine fellow, I'll take care of that; here," continued he, stretching out one of his legs, “just pull off my boots, will you?"

In a moment the officious host had hold of the boot; he pulled and hauled, and hauled and pulled again with all his might; the boot seemed glued to the foot. Now it gives a little-another tug-it's coming-tug-tug-now then.

"Donner and blitzen!" roared the student-no, not the student, but a gigantic, black-charcoalman who was now sitting in the armchair. "Accursed hell-hound! what the devil are you going to do with my leg?" for the boot had come off, and the leg with it: the horrorstricken landlord was standing aghast with the limb in his hand.

"God be merciful to me!" he contrived to stammer out at length, "'tis Rubezahl!"

“Rubezahl!” thundered the Herr der Berge, for it was indeed he. "Rogue! thief! tatterdemalion that thou art, I'll Rubezahl thee!" (be it remembered he was very touchy about that name) "I owe thee a heavy reckoning, and now I'm going to pay thee!"

With these words he jumped up on his one leg, and snatching its fellow, boot and all, out of the quaking landlord's hands, he belaboured the poor devil with it till he was nearly beaten to a jelly, and then, by way of finale, threw it at his head with such terrible correctness of aim that it knocked all his front teeth out. This done, the Spirit hopped off on his one leg, and was out of sight in an instant.

The drunken guests, under the table, had been awakened in the mean time by the piercing outcries of their host. Quiet as mice, though sweating at every pore with apprehension, they lay there, each one hugging himself, amidst his terror, on the assurance of having his ducats snug in his pocket, without getting a drubbing for it. The coast was no sooner clear, than there was a general move of the hand to the pocket to feel the darling coin.

A horrible yell burst from every mouth at the same instant. Maddened and howling with pain, they all rushed, helter-skelter, down to the goose-pond in the village-plunged in-there was a hissing and steaming of the water-the vapour cleared away-they were not to be

seen.

At this juncture a fire broke out in the inn, as well as in all the other houses in the place, whose inmates had won any of Rubezahl's gold pieces. Short-sighted wretches! the metal they prized so much was nothing now but so much red-hot coal! A violent storm of wind from the mountains augmented the impetuosity of the flames to such a degree, that, in less than an hour, nothing remained of Goosebach but three cottages and a heap of smoking ruins.

The neighbouring villages did not fail to take warning from the fate of Goosebach; and, from that time to this, there have been no such heathenish doings in the public-houses either on Sunday or any other day of the week. The travelling student is now courteously and hospitably received everywhere in the Riesengebirge; for which he has no one to thank but honest Rubezahl, the Herr der Berge.