How Fritz Became a Wizard

How Fritz Became a Wizard

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative I]

t was a lovely summer afternoon at Schnitzelhammerstein-on-the-Zugvitz, and Hans Pumpernickel and I, having little else to do, idled along the sylvan path that for five or six miles follows the winding course of the famous little river. Hans was in a very talkative mood that day. He had quite recently been re-elected Mayor of the town in which he lived, after a hard campaign of six weeks, during which time he had not been allowed to say anything, for fear of spoiling his chances of reelection.

"And now that it is over, and I am safely in office once more, I am going to make up for lost time," he said. "Having kept silent for six weeks, I shall now talk three times as much as usual for three. I am fat with suppressed conversation, and I must get rid of it, or I shall burst."

So, as I have told you, he was very talkative, and on that afternoon he told me enough stories to fill an encyclopaedia, most of which, I regret to say, I have forgotten, but some of which, also, I remember perfectly.

The one telling how Fritz von Hatzfeldt became a wizard was one of these latter, and it seemed to me quite good enough to tell to you. It came about in this way. When nearing the point where the celebrated Baron Laubenheimer, at the risk of his life, once plunged into the Zugvitz to rescue Johanna Johannisberg from drowning--a heroic act, the story of which I hope some day to tell you--we perceived walking ahead of us a strange-looking old gentleman, clad in a long, flowing robe with a border embroidered with mystic figures. He wore spectacles--or, rather, the rims of spectacles, without gla.s.s; for, as I learned afterwards, though his eyes were in good condition, his ideas as to the dignity of his profession compelled him to appear as wise as possible, and he had discovered that nothing imparts to the face of man so much of the appearance of wisdom as spectacles.

"That," said Hans Pumpernickel, in response to my question, "is our town wizard, Fritz von Hatzfeldt, and I may add that the town has never had a better one. When I was running for Mayor this last time against Pflueger, who, as you may remember, was the opposing candidate, Von Hatzfeldt was consulted by my friends as to my chances; for, as town wizard, it is his duty to prophesy. His answer was wonderfully quick, and absolutely accurate. 'Who will be elected,' said he, 'Pumpernickel or Pflueger?' 'Yes,' said they, 'that is the question.' 'I will consult the stars,' said Von Hatzfeldt, withdrawing to his observatory. Now, his predecessor, Rosenstein, would have taken a week to return his verdict, but Von Hatzfeldt's strong point is quickness. He remained with the stars no longer than two hours, and then, emerging from his observatory, he said, 'I have consulted, and the heavens tell me that the name of our next Mayor will begin with the letter P.' And it was so. Pumpernickel was elected, and Pflueger was defeated. Was not that an extraordinary, even a wonderful prophecy?"

"Very," I a.s.sented. "That man must be a genius; I should like to meet him."

"I think it can be arranged," said Hans. "I will ask him if you may."

And he hurried on to overtake the wizard. In a moment he returned.

"Well," I said, "does he consent to my meeting him?"

"Yes," said Hans. "Only, with his customary wisdom, he says that, to meet him, you should be coming towards him from in front. He says that people can only be said to meet when face to face. 'You do not meet the man who walks behind you, Mr. Mayor,' he said; 'but if your friend will take a short-cut through the woods to the old rock two hundred paces on, he can then approach me from before, and then we shall meet."

"That suits me," said I, and, making the cut through the woods, I reached the rock, turned back, and soon stood face to face with the wizard. "I am glad to know you," said I, as Pumpernickel introduced us.

"I was about to make a similar remark myself," returned Von Hatzfeldt, "but concluded not to, and for this reason: to tell you that would be to tell you something you already knew. If I had not been glad to meet you, I could have turned aside and avoided the meeting. Now, my notion of the duties of a professional wizard is that he should tell people only those things which they do not know, and should avoid wasting his breath in imparting useless information."

"A very sage observation," said Pumpernickel.

"And what else did you expect?" queried the wizard, gazing through his unglazed spectacles upon the Mayor. "Mark you, Mr. Mayor, it is the business of wizards to make sage observations. You might as well try to purchase a diamond necklace of a green-grocer as look for unwise remarks from a professional wizard."

"I'll test his powers of prophecy now," said Hans to me, in a whisper.

"Do," I replied. "I shall be delighted, for I never met a real prophet before."

"Ah, Herr Wizard," said Hans, addressing Von Hatzfeldt, "what do you think about the weather?"

"It is very fair--now," replied the wizard.

"Now, eh?" said Hans. "Then you think it will not always be so?"

"No," replied the wizard, glancing up into the heavens. "No. To you there is nothing in the skies to foretell a change, but to me there is much. Before the winter is over, Hans Pumpernickel, we shall have snow.

I read it in the stars."

"Stars?" I cried. "By day?"

"And why not?" returned the wizard. "Do you think because you do not see them that therefore the stars are all destroyed?"

To this I had no answer, and before I could recover myself Fritz von Hatzfeldt had pa.s.sed on.

"Isn't he a wonder?" said Pumpernickel.

"He is more than a wonder," I replied. "He is a four-hundred-and-tender"--a joke, by the way, which Hans Pumpernickel did not appreciate.

"Whence do your wizards come?" I asked.

"There is no rule," Pumpernickel answered. "The wisest person in town is generally selected, though, as for Fritz, he studied wizardry under Rosenstein. It was curious the way it happened. Fritz was the son of a farmer, who sent him to school when he was very young, and at the age of five he could read so well that he couldn't be got to leave his books and help gather in the crops. At seven his father, in a fit of anger at what he termed the boy's laziness, turned him out of doors, and Fritz came to Schnitzelhammerstein to seek his fortune. The first position he held was as boy in a butcher-shop, but he had to give that up, because, having gone for weeks without sufficient food, his appet.i.te was a serious menace to the butcher's stock, which the butcher did not discover until Fritz had eaten one whole side of beef. Then he became candy-puller for a mola.s.ses-candy-maker, who employed him without counting upon his sweet tooth. This he was compelled to give up after having consumed two weeks' salary's worth of candy in two days. It was this second rebuff that brought him to Rosenstein's notice. While standing in his laboratory one morning the wizard heard a piping little voice cry out, 'Excuse me, sir, but don't you want an a.s.sistant?'

"'An a.s.sistant what?' asked Rosenstein.

"'An a.s.sistant whatever you are,' returned the owner of the little voice, who was none other than Fritz.

"The answer pleased Rosenstein. He recognized wisdom in it; for that it was wise no one will deny.

"'Don't you know what I am?' he asked.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'YOU ARE A VERY NICE OLD GENTLEMAN'"]

"'Yes,' said Fritz. 'You are a very nice old gentleman.'

"Rosenstein laughed. 'True,' he said. 'But I am also the town wizard.'

"'Then will I be the a.s.sistant town wizard,' said Fritz. 'What do wizards do--whiz?'

"'I'll take you in for a week and let you see,' said Rosenstein, and little Fritz was employed to do errands. But alas for him! The wizard, though he liked him much, could not afford to keep him. He had not counted upon Fritz's appet.i.te any more than the butcher had, and again was the boy sent forth. This time, however, he was sent forth in a kindly way. 'You are a good boy, Fritz, and I like you, and I think you would make a good wizard some day, for you have a wise way about you for your years, but I am too poor to feed you. I will say to you, however, that if you ever make your fortune in this world, then will I be glad to receive you back again and point out to you the path you should pursue if you would some day succeed me in my office. Make your fortune first, my boy, then come to me.'

"'Can't I stay if I lose my appet.i.te?" asked Fritz, mournfully.

"'Ah, but you mustn't do that,' the wizard answered. 'An appet.i.te is a splendid thing--a fortune in itself--but you must also have another fortune in itself to maintain it. Go, my boy, and bless you!'

"Poor Fritz! This last failure discouraged him wofully. He had no money, no home, n.o.body to go to. His condition was a dreadful one; but the Fates had a happy life in store for him. He wandered out along this very path up to the big rock, and sat down to meditate, and as he meditated he observed, as the tide of the river went down, it uncovered the entrance to what appeared to be a huge cavern. 'Humph!' said Fritz.

'Looks like a cave. Maybe I can use that for a place to live in. There may be one or two dry spots inside where I could sleep, and I could always come out at low tide if I wanted to. There's house rent saved, anyhow.'

"Speaking thus, he climbed down into the cavern, and, as he had hoped, found plenty of dry places, and from that time on it became his home. He occasionally made a few marks by doing ch.o.r.es for people around about Schnitzelhammerstein, and with them he supplied himself with food and furniture. The spring-time came, and with it a freshet which completely covered up the entrance to the cavern night and day, high tide or low, and Fritz found himself shut up in his strange home for two whole dreary months. Escape was impossible. The sole sustenance he had was an occasional fish he caught in some of the pools.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE LITTLE FELLOW MUSED OFT AND LONG THEREON"]

"It was not until he had been in this cavernous prison for five weeks that he noticed a most unique thing about it. _Night and day it was always brilliantly lighted!_ On the Monday night of the fifth week this singular fact flashed upon the boy's mind. How was it? Whence could the light come? It was not sunlight, because that would not shine by night.

What, then, was the secret of the light in the cave? The little fellow mused oft and long thereon, and finally he reached a conclusion, which, like all his conclusions, was a wise one.

"'This is worth investigating. I will investigate,' he cried.

'Meditation is good in its way, but if a thing is past mental comprehension, then investigation of an active sort is in order. In the first place, the light does not come from above; it streams in through that c.h.i.n.k in the rock off to the left. I will slide through that c.h.i.n.k and see what is to be seen.'