menu_book Chapter 1

CHAPTER I. THE BIRTH OF OWL-GLASS AND HOW HE WAS THRICE BAPTIZED. In the Duchy of Brunswick is a forest called Sybe, and in this lies the village of Knytlingen, where the good child Owl-Glass was born. The life of this child does not confirm the old saying, like father like son, for his

father by name Elaus Owl-Glass was a quiet, respectable man, and his mother Anna was the very model of a woman, for she was meek and a woman a few words, no particular circumstance attending the birth of our hero is handed down to us, and it therefore was probably not very different to other births, but it is recorded that he enjoyed the benefit of three distinct baptisms.

There does not seem to have been any church in the village where he was born, for when the time came for him to be christened he was sent by his parents to the village of Amtland, where he received the name of Tyle Owl-Glass. The place is still remembered as the scene of this ceremony, but also because close by there stood once a castle of the same name, destroyed as a nest of robbers by the good

people of Magdeburg, with the help of their neighbours. At the time we are speaking of, it was the custom of the land that the godfathers and godmothers together with the nurse and child should adjourn immediately after the christening to an ale-house there to enjoy themselves, and that part of the ceremony was not forgotten or neglected on this occasion.

Now it was a long way from the church to the ale-house, and the day was very hot, so that the party indulged rather freely in the refreshing beverage, delaying their homeward journey as long as possible. At length, however, they had to get on their way, and the nurse, whose head was rather giddy and legs not oversteady, had very unpleasant visions of a narrow footpath with ground

sloping down into a muddy ditch, and she had serious forebodings of how that part of the journey would be accomplished. The nearer she drew to the dreaded spot, the more her nervousness increased, and young Tyle, whether that she clutched him more firmly to her, or whether he too had forebodings of danger, began to kick and struggle in her arms, so that her stopping on the brink

of danger to gather steadiness and courage was of no manner of use, for just as one foot rested on a loose stone a violent plunge of the child threw her fairly off her legs and threw himself over her head into the ditch below. But weeds are not easily extirpated, so no harm happened to the child, excepting that he was covered with mud and slime, then he was taken home and washed.

Thus Owl-Glass was on one and the same day thrice baptized, first in all proper order and due form, then in the muddy ditch, and lastly in warm water to cleanse him from the dirt. This was symbolic of the many mishaps of his future life, for evil is sure to fall back upon its perpetrator.

Later too, how all the people of the village, both men and women, made complaints of young Owl-Glass, and how, whilst on horseback with his father, without his knowledge, he made game of them all. Our young acquaintance Tyle began at an early age to show signs of a decidedly marked character. He was full of life and spirits, as the other children of the village found out to their

sooner could he crawl amongst them than he played all manner of tricks. In truth, he was more like a monkey than the child of respectable Christian parents, and when he had reached the age of four years, he became daily more mischievous. He played his companions as many tricks daily as he was inches high, and as ill weeds grow apace he soon became almost unbearable.

But yet they could not do without him, so quick was his invention at all games, which, however, he contrived that they were sure to end in a quarrel, taking care to get out of it himself before the blows came, and he would afterwards mock and laugh at those who had got hurt. He was even more dangerous away than with them, for he was then most certainly planning

mischief. He would find out holes in the ground, which he carefully covered with sticks and grass, and then foremost in the race to a mark he had set up a little beyond the hole, he would stop short in time to watch the others tumble one over the other into the trap he had set them.

Neither were the girls spared. Unknown to them, he would fasten their petticoats together with thorns as they sat on the ground, and then frighten them so as to make them jump up suddenly when he did not fail to point out the rinse in their dresses, and laugh at them for the scolding and beating they would get at home.

A hundred different tricks he played them so that every day some were sure to be sent home crying and complaining. True, he got many a thrashing from boys bigger and stronger than himself, but so sure was he to repay them tenfold, in one way or another, that both big and small were afraid of him. Nor were the parents spared when he could safely do mischief to man or woman, so that

constant complaints were made to his father, to whom, however, he knew how to defend and excuse himself so artfully that the good simple man thought his dear child shamefully ill-used. Ordered at length of these daily complaints, his father determined to take him out with him when he knew the street would be full in order to show the people how well and soberly his boy could behave.

So taking him behind him on his horse, having first impressed upon him that he must be very good, they started off together. Now what did this obedient child do? He put his finger up his nose, and by various other insulting gestures mocked the people as they passed till there was a general outcry against the mischievous little imp.

His father was sorely puzzled, and Tyle, pretending to cry, said to him, "'You hear, dear father, what the people say. You know that I am sitting here quietly, without saying a single word, and yet all complain of me.' His father hereupon places his dear child before him.

Young Hopeful, now seated before his father, could do nothing but make faces and put out his tongue at the people, who again were loud in their complaints. The poor man, who could see no fault in his darling, said, "'Do not fret, my own dear boy, we will go and live somewhere else, and get away from these evil-minded people.'

He did indeed move to a distance, and not many years after died, leaving wife and child in great poverty. Now young Tyle, though sixteen years old, had learnt no business, nor anything useful or good, but with years had increased in all malice and mischief. Chapter 3.

How Owl-Glass Crept into a Beav-High, and how when two thieves came in the night to he managed to set them quarrelling, so that they came to blows and left the hive behind them. We pass over a few years of Owl-Glass's life, during which he continued to thrive and body, but we are sorry to say gave no signs of moral improvement.

However, in the adventure we are about to relate, he was not so much to blame, the sufferers being scarcely better than himself, and in no way deserving of our sympathy. He went one day with his mother to a feast in a neighbouring village, where, having eaten and drunk as much as he could bear for the time, he looked about him for a convenient place to sleep.

He found some beehives, four of which were empty, and creeping into one of these he thought he would have an hour's quiet rest, but slept from midday to midnight, so that his mother thought he had gone back home. Now in that night two thieves came to steal one of the beehives, and having heard that the heaviest was always the best, they tried the weight of each, and finding that one the

heaviest in which Owl-Glass was, they settled between them that that was the one they would take, and walked off with it. The night was as dark as pitch, so that there was no seeing at all. But Owl-Glass was awake and had heard them consulting with each other. The motion was not unpleasant as they carried him along, but yet he thought he could do

better than sleep, and after short consideration he stretched out one hand and with his finger first slightly touched the neck of the man before him, then he touched his nose, chin, cheeks, and forehead. At each touch of the finger the thief thought one of the bees had settled on him, till he He fancied his face covered with them, and dreaded every moment to feel their sting.

He dared not speak nor move a muscle of his face, but trembled with fear till the perspiration streamed down him. At length, however, scarcely moving his jaws, he ventured to mutter to his companion, "'I say, Jack,' he said, "'have you anything on your face?' "'Yes,' growled his companion, who was not in the best of humours, for he began to find

the hive heavy, "'I have a nose on my face, and pray what have you to say against it?' "'It is not what I mean,' said the first speaker, "'but have you ever heard that bees swarm in the dark, for I am covered with them?' "'You are a fool,' was Jack's only reply. After a minute Owl-Glass again put out his hand, and this time gave the front man a sharp

tug by the hair, who, thinking his companion had done it, began to complain and swear. The other cried, "'How is it possible I could pull your hair? Do I not want both my hands to carry this abominable hive? You must be mad or drunk. But let us have no more of your nonsense, or it will be the worse for you.'

Owl-Glass laughed in his sleeve, enjoying this fine sport, and after they had gone on a little further, he caught hold of the fellow's hair at the back, giving his head such a pull forward that he scraped his nose against the hive. The fellow's rage now knew no bounds. "'You scoundrel,' he cried, "'first you say I pull your hair, and now you pull mine.

But wait, you shall catch it.' Whereupon he let go of the hive, and the other doing the like, they fell upon each other, and a furious fight began. At length they both came to the ground, and rolling one over the other down a steep bank, they became separated, and in the great darkness neither knew where to find the other nor the

beehive. Owl-Glass, seeing it was still dark, went to sleep again in the hive, and the next morning, not knowing where he was, went on his way whither chance might lead him. How Owl-Glass ate a roasted fowl off the spit and did only half work. The first village Owl-Glass came to he went straight to the priest's house.

Here he was hired, the priest telling him that he should live as well as he and his cook and do only half the work. Owl-Glass agreed, promising himself to the very letter to act up to what had been said. The cook, who had but one eye, put two chickens to the fire to roast, bidding him to turn the spit.

This he readily did, thinking all the while of the priest's words that he should live as well as he and his cook, and when the chickens were well roasted, took one of them off the spit and ate it then and there. When dinner-time had come, the cook went to the fire to baste the chickens, and seeing only one, said to Owl-Glass, What has become of the other fowl?

To this he answered, Open your other eye, my good woman, and you will see the two. She flew into a passion at having heard effect of the loss of one eye thus thrown in her teeth, and straightway went to her master, to whom she complained of the insult offered to her, and how that his new servant understood cooking so well that two chickens dwindled down into one.

The priest thereupon went into the kitchen and said, Why is it, Owl-Glass, that you have mocked my servant? I see that there is only one fowl on the spit, whereas there were two. What has become of the other? Owl-Glass answered, Open both your eyes, and you will see that the other fowl is on the

spit. I only said the same to your cook when she grew angry. The priest laughed and said, My cook cannot open both eyes, since she has only one. Owl-Glass replied, That you say I do not say so. The priest continued, With all this there is but one fowl.

Owl-Glass said, The other I have eaten, for you said I should live as well as you and your cook, and therefore one chicken was for me, and the other for you too. I should have been grieved that what you said were not true, and thus I took my share beforehand. Well, well, my good fellow, his master said, it matters little about the eaten fowl, only

you do in future what my cook tells you. Owl-Glass said, Yes, my dear master, as you told me, so will I do. Now at the hiring the priest had said Owl-Glass should do half the work which the cook would tell him, so that he only did half of what she told him to do. When told to fetch a pail full of water he brought it only half full, and when he was

to put two logs of wood on the fire he only put one on. The cook saw well enough that all this was done to beckon her and said to her master that if he kept such a perverse fellow in his house she would leave it. Owl-Glass defended himself, saying it was quite natural that having only one eye she should see the work only half done.

At this the priest laughed, but to appease his cook was obliged to dismiss his man, promising however that he would be a friend to him. CHAPTER V. How Owl-Glass was forbidden the Duchy of Lüneburg, and bought himself land of his own. Owl-Glass had played so many pranks in the Duchy of Lüneburg that he was forbidden the

land, the duke giving orders that if found there he should be hanged. Nevertheless he continued to pass through the duchy whenever his road led the way, but one day as he was riding along devoid of care he saw the duke himself coming with several followers. Then he said to himself, If I fly I shall be pursued and cut down, and if I remain as

I am the duke will come up in great anger and have me hanged on the nearest tree. And most provokingly one stood close by. There was not much time for consideration and none to be lost, so jumping off his horse he killed the animal and ripping it open took his stand in its inside. Now when the duke came up to him he was astonished at his impudence and still more so at his

extraordinary position. Did I not promise you, he said, that if found in my territory you should be surely hanged? What have you to say for yourself? Owl-Glass answered, I put my trust in your gracious goodness and that you will not carry your threat into execution, seeing that I have not done anything to deserve hanging.

Well, said the duke, let me hear what you have to say in your defence, or rather tell me why you are standing inside your horse. Owl-Glass answered, I sorely feared your gracious displeasure and thought I had better be found in my own property where I ought to be safe. The duke laughed and said, As long as you remain where you are you shall be safe, and

then rode away. Owl-Glass made the best of his way over the frontier, but it was not long before he had occasion again to be in the Duchy of Lüneburg, and hearing that the duke was coming to the neighbourhood where he was, he straightway got a cart and horse and going up to a peasant whom he saw digging in a field, he asked whose land it was.

The peasant said it was his own, for he had lately inherited it. Hereupon Owl-Glass asked for how much he would sell him his cart full of earth. They agreed for a shilling, and Owl-Glass, paying the money, filled his cart with earth in which he buried himself up to his armpits and drove leisurely on his way. It was not long before he met the duke, who, seeing him sitting thus in the cart, stopped

and with difficulty restraining his laughter, said, Owl-Glass, have I not forbidden you my land on pain of death? To this Owl-Glass answered, I am not in your Grace's land, but sitting in my own, which I purchased from a peasant whose inheritance it was. The duke replied, Though sitting in your own land your cart and horse are on mine, but

this once more I will let you go in safety. Beware, however, that you do not come again, for then nothing shall save you. Owl-Glass then immediately sprang upon his horse and rode off, leaving the cart behind.