THE JEW IN THE THICKET.
Many popular tales could be noticed of instrumental performers who possess the power of making everyone dance. Not only men, but animals, and sometimes even inanimate objects are compelled to wheel around. Take for instance the following German tale, known as 'The Jew in the Thicket.'
Once upon a time there lived in a small village a poor peasant lad whose name was Heinrich, but whom his neighbours used to call Honest Heinrich, because he was as honest as he was poor. Whether he was so poor because he was so honest, or whatever else was the cause of his poverty, would now be useless to speculate upon. Enough that he found it expedient to improve his circumstances; and for this purpose he set out on a journey into the world, with only a few copper coins in his pocket.
After a while, his way led him to a lonely place near some hills. He thought he was quite alone, when unexpectedly a little grey man, very old-looking, accosted him and solicited alms. "Give me whatever thou hast in coppers," said the grey man, "and thou shalt have no cause to repent thy generosity; thou seest, I am old and infirm; but thou art young and robust, and wilt easily make thy way in the world."
When Honest Heinrich heard the grey man speak thus, it went to his heart, and he put his hand into his pocket, took out the copper coins,—which, in fact, constituted all the property he possessed in the world,—and gave them to the old beggar. Then cheerfully whistling he resumed his journey.
"Hallo! just wait a bit, my lad!" cried the grey man: "I know thou art an honest fellow, and deservest a helping hand to push thee on in the world; so thou mayst have three wishes, and they shall be granted to thee."
Then Honest Heinrich saw at once that he had to do with an Onnerersk, as the little folks are called who dwell under ground in golden halls deep in the mountains; so, having bethought himself for a moment, he touched his cap and said:
"Well sir, let me have a fiddle which when I play upon it makes everyone dance. And let me have a blow-pipe with which I am sure to hit everything I want to shoot. And my third wish shall be, if you please, that whenever I ask a favour of anybody, it will not be refused me."
All these wishes were readily conceded to Honest Heinrich, and it may easily be imagined what great advantages he now possessed in his endeavours to make his fortune in the world. The third wish especially proved invaluable to him. Neither was the fiddle to be despised; nay, it actually saved him from the gallows! and how this happened to come to pass, shall now be related.
After Honest Heinrich had proceeded on his way a mile or two, he came beside a thicket of thorns, in the middle of which sat a lovely little bird that sang even more beautifully than it was beautiful to look at. And near the thicket stood a Jew counting a bag of money, which was not exactly his own, for he had taken it from somewhere, so to say, without asking permission. Now, the Jew was in an awkward fix, for he could not move from the spot where he stood, because the lovely little bird had enchanted him with his melodious music. He had, however, a particular reason for moving on as quickly as possible, since it was not at all unlikely that somebody might follow him, overtake him, and say, "you are wanted; just come back with me to town!" Therefore, when he saw Honest Heinrich carrying a blow-pipe, he called out to him:
"A good piece of money I would gladly part with if thou couldst procure for me that charming bird."
Then Honest Heinrich took his blow-pipe, aimed, and hit the little bird: he only said "There!" and the charming little songster fell down into the thicket. Directly the Jew worked himself among the thorn bushes to take the bird out; meanwhile he made all kinds of excuses for not giving the piece of money which he had promised.
"O ho!" said Honest Heinrich, "that matter we shall easily settle!" Presently he took up his fiddle to try its effect upon the Jew. One stroke of the bow, and the Jew began to wabble;—another stroke, and he lifted up his right leg;—a third stroke, and the dancing began in earnest.
"O dear me!" cried the Jew, "leave off that confounded fiddling! The thorns hurt me dreadfully! Upon my honour, I shall be a dead man before I am safely out of the thicket!" But, Honest Heinrich was becoming warm with trying his newly-acquired instrument; so he only replied: "Never mind the thorns; all right!" and struck up a quicker tune. "O torture!" cried the perspiring dancer, "I am a ruined man! Here,—here is my whole bag of money,—all genuine coins,—take it,—only cease that fiddling!"
Honest Heinrich made what musicians call a brilliant cadence, which caused the Jew to throw a few somersaults, and then gave the finishing stroke, or in other words, the concluding chord. The Jew crept out of the thicket, handed over the bag to the fiddler, and made off as rapidly as he could into the wide world.
Honest Heinrich, on the other hand, took the direction towards the town with the intention of restoring the bag of money to its rightful owner. He was soon met by a man dressed in an unpretending kind of uniform, who, seeing the bag, in a friendly and almost playful way, gave Honest Heinrich a little tap on his shoulder, and said: "You are wanted; you must come with me to town." Then Honest Heinrich was taken to prison; and when the judge asked him about the bag of money, and he replied, "A Jew gave it me," the judge smiled and said, "A Jew? you will never make me believe that!" In short, Honest Heinrich was found guilty of robbery, and the judge sentenced him to be hanged.
There prevailed a strange taste in the town where this occurred. Whenever an execution took place, the people had a kind of festival. Days, nay, even weeks, before the interesting event, the wretched culprit was considered almost as a martyr. Whatever he said was carefully recorded, and made publicly known. Men of rank felt honoured when he shook hands with them; and when the awful hour for his execution had arrived, and he stood under the gallows, he would address the throng of people assembled as spectators. The women, of course, relished the exciting scene even more than the men, and cried with all their heart. Now, as Honest Heinrich was innocent, he did not like to have any fuss made about him; so, when he stood under the gallows, he only asked that he might be permitted to play a "Last Farewell" upon his dear fiddle. The judge said he would not deny the last request of a dying sinner. "Pray, your worship!" cried the Jew, who had mingled with the spectators, and who rejoiced in his heart at the turn which the money affair had taken, "Pray, your worship, do not allow him his fiddle; his music will do us mischief!" But the judge took no notice of the Jew, and said, "Play, my lad, but make it short; we have not much time to lose."
Then Honest Heinrich took his fiddle and played. One stroke with the bow, and all the people began to wabble. Another stroke, and every one lifted up his right leg. A third stroke, and the dancing began in earnest. The judge, the clergyman, the doctor, the hangman, the Jew, women with their babies in their arms, ladies with their smelling-bottles in their hands; in short, every one present, old and young, danced with the utmost exertion. Even the very dogs which had followed their masters, raised themselves upon their hind-legs and danced, profusely perspiring like all the people.
"Hold! stop! hold!" cried the exhausted judge, "Thy life is spared; only put aside that dreadful fiddle!"
As soon as Honest Heinrich heard the judge's promise of acquittal he ceased playing and came down the steps from the gallows. At the foot of the steps he found the Jew lying prostrate on his back. "Confess directly," said Honest Heinrich, "how you came by the bag of money, or I shall give you a little private performance, with a brilliant cadence at the end, you know!" In a moment the alarmed Jew stood upon his legs again, and exclaimed, "Upon my honour, I stole it!"
Then they hanged the Jew upon the gallows. As for Honest Heinrich, he continued his wanderings in the world, and soon made his fortune. When he had become rich, he went home again to his village, and courted his neighbour's daughter, who had formerly jilted him when he was poor, but who loved him now dearly, not because he was rich (she said) but on account of his former poverty. Soon they married, and were happy ever after.