Tales from the German. Volume I.

Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/talesfromgerman00greegoog 2. Footnote is located at the end of the book.
Most men, whatever the nature of their avocations, have, or may have, occasional hours of leisure and relaxation. To spend those hours profitably as well as pleasantly, should be a study: to spend them harmlessly, is a duty. Among other recent employments of the little leisure afforded me by absorbing official occupations, has been an attempt to gain some knowledge of the language and literature of Germany; and among the results of that attempt, are manuscript translations of several pleasant and interesting tales from various German authors, some of which I have been led to suppose might prove acceptable to our reading public. Those now presented are taken almost at random from the thirteen volumes of Van der Velde's works, of which they are a fair specimen. Their principal value consists in their faithful illustration of interesting portions of history not generally familiar. They have, besides, the merit of a peculiarly simple and unpretending style, that gives them an additional charm, and which I have endeavored to preserve in the translation. Whether that endeavor has been successful, however, and whether the English dress I have substituted for the graceful German garb, is worthy of the author and suited to the public taste, are questions upon which I feel somewhat doubtful and apprehensive. Should the reader answer them in the affirmative, I shall have the consolation of feeling that the leisure devoted to the work has been harmlessly, if not profitably, employed.
It is proper to add, that in a few cases I have taken the liberty to omit some passages, and to alter others, that were deemed incompatible with the ideas of propriety and decorum prevalent in this country.
Boston, November, 1837.
In October of the year 1718, the royal counsellor, Nils count Gyllenstierna, was sitting before his desk in his cabinet at Stockholm. Behind him stood Arwed, his son, a tall Swedish youth with blue eyes and golden hair, whose rosy countenance wore a decided expression of courage and resolution. The father suddenly turned his moveable chair so as to face the youth.