Little Werner wept because his mother did not believe him, and went away, but Anna followed, eager to hear more. She never tired of hearing about Goldflame and the hall of dolls, and in the days that followed he had to tell her about them over and over again, until he was quite comforted. One day they went to the woods together to look for the entrance to that wonderful country. But though they followed the brooklet they never found a place resembling in the least the description Werner had given, and he was so ashamed and embarrassed, he knew not what to say.
And so Christmas drew near. A heavy snow had been falling for two whole days, and the world was beautiful, wrapped in its glistening, white Christmas robe. Night was falling, and the children sat in their dark chamber, eagerly waiting, whispering together and listening to their mother who was walking back and forth in the brightly lighted Christmas room, arranging their poor little gifts. Suddenly from afar they heard the jingling of sleighbells coming nearer and nearer, and a whip cracked merrily. Now the sleigh was quite close, now it stopped before the house; they could hear the horses stamping and the bells jingling softly when the animals turned their heads.
“The Christmasman! The Christmasman!” cried Werner. They heard doors opening and a man’s voice speaking—then their mother called to them, “Come in, children; your uncle is here.”
Wemer and Anna ran into the room and there stood a man in a great fur coat who held out his hands to them, saying, “Come to me, my dear children.” He kissed each one and said, “You shall come with me to the city and live with me in my large house. I will be a father to you and I will care for you.” In the meantime a gigantic coachman with a fur cap, a long white beard, and a cloak with seven collars was bringing many large packages into the room. When these were afterwards opened they contained so many beautiful gifts that the people in that little house had a Christmas such as they had never had before! Later, when Werner and Anna went to bed, he whispered to her very mysteriously, “Do you know who the coachman was with the fur cap, the long white beard, and the big cloak? That was the Christmasman. Indeed, I recognized him, and he looked at me and winked.”
But what had happened to the rich old uncle who lived alone, an unsociable miser, and who had never given his poor sister and her children a thought—what had happened to him to change him so? In the night following the day on which Werner had visited the Christmasman, the uncle had had a strange dream. A man with a blue velvet cap and a long white beard, wrapped in a golden robe, suddenly stood before him, looked at him with great, blue, penetrating eyes, then spoke slowly and impressively: “Konrad Borodin, have you a sister?” Thereupon fear overcame him so that he could not answer. Then the apparition gradually vanished, the eyes only gazing threateningly upon him. Three successive nights he had the same dream. In the meantime a restlessness beyond description drove him from room to room of his dreary, empty house, and ever in his ear there sounded that deep, reproachful voice of his dream, saying, “Have you a sister?” On the morning after the third night he could endure it no longer, but hurried to the city, where to the astonishment of all the people who had known him as a miser, he bought the loveliest things, ordered a sleigh, filled it with his purchases, and drove directly to his poor sister.
Little Werner received a good education, and grew to be a famous and highly respected man. He himself told me this story.
A CHRISTMAS LEGEND
(A Florentine Legend of the Nativity)
VERNON LEE
Beyond Bethlehem, which is a big village, walled and moated, lies a hilly country, exceeding wild and covered with dense woods of firs, pines, larches, beeches, and similar trees. At times the people of Bethlehem, going in bands, cut down these trees and burn them to charcoal which they pack on mules and sell in the valley. Sometimes they tie together whole tree trunks such as would serve for beams, rafters, and masts, and float them down the rivers, which are many and very rapid.
On these mountains in the thickest part of the forests a certain woodcutter bethought him to build a house wherein to live with his family, store the timber, and care for his beasts. For this purpose he employed certain pillars and pieces of masonry that stood in the forest, being remains of a temple of the heathen, which had long ceased to exist. He cleared the wood round about, leaving only tree stumps and bushes. Close by in a ravine between high fir trees ran a river of greenish waters, exceedingly cold and rapid. It was always full to the brim even in mid-summer, owing to the melting snows; and around up hill and down dale stretched the woods of firs, larches, pines, and other noble and useful trees, emitting a very pleasant and virtuous fragrance.
The man thought to enjoy his house and came with his family and servants. Also he brought his horses and mules and oxen which he had employed to carry down the timber and charcoal. But scarcely were they settled when an earthquake rent the place, tearing wall from wall, and pillar from pillar; and a voice was heard in the air crying, “Ecce domus domini dei,”[16] whereupon they fled, astonished and in terror, and returned to the town.