‘Good day to my lord the Emperor!’ said he. ‘Can I have employment at the palace?’
‘Why, yes,’ said the Emperor, ‘I want some one to take care of the pigs, for we have a great many of them.’
So the Prince was appointed ‘Imperial Swineherd.’ He had a dirty little room close by the pig-sty; and there he sat the whole day, and worked. By the evening he had made a pretty little kitchen-pot. Little bells were hung all round it; and when the pot was boiling, these bells tinkled in the most charming manner, and played the old melody,
‘Ach! du lieber Augustin,
Alles ist weg, weg, weg!’[2]
[2] ‘Ah! dear Augustine,
All is gone, gone, gone!’
But what was still more curious, whoever held his finger in the smoke of the kitchen-pot, immediately smelt all the dishes that were cooking on every hearth in the city.—This, you see, was something quite different from the rose.
AND HE WEPT LIKE A CHILD
Now the Princess happened to walk that way; and when she heard the tune, she stood quite still, and seemed pleased; for she could play ‘Lieber Augustin’; it was the only piece she knew; and she played it with one finger.