The Wonder Clock by Howard Pyle
You can guess how glad the father and the mother were to have their son back home again. But the lad just sat back of the stove and warmed his shins, and stared into the Land of Nowhere, without doing a stroke of work from morning till night. At last the father could stand it no longer, for, though one is glad to have one's own safe under the roof at home, it is another thing to have one's own doing nothing the livelong day but sit back of the stove and eat good bread and meat; for the silver pine-cones were gone by this time, and good things were no more plentiful in the blacksmith's house than they had been before.
"Come!" says he to lazy-boots one day, "is there nothing at all that you can do to earn the salt you eat?"
"Oh, yes," said the lad, "I have learned many things, and one over at the dwarf's house yonder, for the dwarf is a famous blacksmith." So out he came from behind the stove, and brushed the ashes from his hair, and went out into the forge.
"Give me a piece of iron," says he, "and I will show you a trick or two worth the knowing."
"Yes," says the blacksmith, "you shall have the iron; all the same I know that it is little or nothing that you know about the hammer and the tongs."
But the young fellow answered nothing. He made a bed of hot coals, and laid the iron in it.
"Here," said he to his father, "do you blow the bellows till I come back, and be sure that you do not stop for so much as a wink, or else all will be spoiled." So he gave the handle into the blacksmith's hand and off he went.
The old man blew the bellows and blew the bellows, but the dwarf over in the forest knew what was being done as well as though he stood in the forge. He was not for letting the lad steal his tricks if he could help it. So he changed himself into a great fly, and came and lit on the blacksmith's neck, and bit him till the blood ran; but the blacksmith just shut his eyes tight, and grinned and bore it, and blew the bellows and blew the bellows.
By and by the lad came in, and the fly flew away. He drew the iron out of the fire, and dipped it in the water, and what do you think it was? Why, a golden tree with a little golden bird sitting in the branches, with bright jewels for its eyes.
The lad drew a little silver wand from his pocket, and gave the tree a tap, and the bird began to hop from branch to branch, and to sing so sweetly that it made one's heart stand still to listen to it.
As for the blacksmith, he just stood and gaped and stared, with his mouth and eyes as wide open as if they never would shut again.
Now there was no king in that country, but a queen who lived in a grand castle on a high hill, and was as handsome a one as ever a body's eyes looked upon.
"Here," says the lad to his father, "take this up to the queen at the castle yonder, and she will pay you well for it." Then he went and sat down back of the stove again, and toasted his shins and stared at nothing at all.
Up went the blacksmith to the queen's castle with the golden bird and the golden tree wrapped up in his pocket-handkerchief. Dear, dear, how the queen did look and listen and wonder, when she saw how pretty it was, and heard how sweetly the little golden bird sang. She called her steward and bade him give the blacksmith a whole bag of gold and silver money for it, and off went the man as pleased as pleased could be.
And now they lived upon the very best of good things over at the blacksmith's house; but good things cost money, and by and by the last penny was spent of what the queen had given him, and nothing would do but for the lad to go out and work a little while at the forge. So up he got from back of the stove, and out he went into the forge. He made a bed of coals and laid the iron upon it.
"Now," says he to his father, "do you blow the bellows till I come back," and off he went.
Well, the old man took the handle and blew and blew, but the dwarf knew what was going on this time, just as well as he had done before. He changed himself into a fly, and came and lit on the blacksmith's neck, and dear, dear, how he did bite! The blacksmith shut his eyes and grinned, but at last he could bear it no longer. He raised his hand and slapped at the fly, but away it flew with never a hair hurt.
In came the lad and drew the iron out of the fire and plunged it into the water, and there it was a beautiful golden comb that shone like fire. But the lad was not satisfied with that. "You should have done as I told you," said he, "and have stopped at nothing; for now the work is spoiled."
The blacksmith vowed and declared that he had not stopped from blowing the bellows, but the lad knew better than that; for there should have been a golden looking-glass as well as the comb. The one was of no use without the other, for when one looked in the golden looking-glass, and combed one's hair with the golden comb, one grew handsome, every day, and the lad had intended both for the queen.
"All the same," said the old man, "I will take the golden comb up to the castle;" and it did no good for the lad to shake his head and say no. "For," says the father, "old heads are wise heads; and the queen will like this as well as the other." So up to the castle he would go, and up to the castle he went.
But when the queen saw the golden comb her brows grew as black as a thunder-storm. "Where is the looking-glass?" said she; and though the old man vowed and declared that no looking-glass belonged with the comb, she knew a great deal better. So, now, the blacksmith might have his choice; he should either bring her the looking-glass that belonged to the golden comb or bring her that which was the best in all the world. If he did neither of these he should be thrown into a deep pit full of toads and vipers.
Back went the old man home again and told the lad all that had happened from beginning to end. And then he wanted to know what he should do to get himself out of his pickle.
Well, it was no easy task to make what the queen wanted; all the same, the lad would try what he could do. So he rolled up his sleeves and out he went into the forge and laid a piece of iron upon the bed of hot coals.
This time he would not trust the old man to blow the bellows for him, but took the handle into his own hand and blew and blew.
The dwarf knew what was happening this time as well as before. He changed himself into a fly and came and sat on the lad's forehead, and bit until the blood ran down into his eyes and blinded him; but the lad blew the bellows and blew the bellows.
First the fire burned red, and then it burned white, and then it burned blue, and after that the work was done.
Then the young man raised his hand and struck the fly and killed it, and that was an end of the dwarf for good and all.
What he had made he dipped into the water and it was a gold ring, nothing less nor more. He took a sharp knife and drew charms upon it, and inside of the circle he wrote these words:
"WHO WEARS THIS SHALL HAVE THE BEST
THAT THE WORLD HAS TO GIVE."
"Here," said the lad to his father, "take this up to the queen, for it is what she wants, and there is nothing better in the world."
Off marched the old man and gave the ring to the queen, and she slipped it on her finger.
That was how the blacksmith saved his own skin; but the poor queen did nothing but just sit and look out of the window, and sigh and sigh.
After a while she called her steward to her and bade him go over and tell the blacksmith's son to come to her.
There sat the lad back of the stove. "Prut!" said he, "she must send a better than you if she would have me come to her." So the steward had just to go back to the castle again and tell the queen what the lad had said.
Then the queen called her chief minister to her. "Do you go," said she, "and bid the lad come to me."
There sat the lad back of the stove. "Prut!" said he, "she must send a better than you if she would have me come to her."
Off went the minister and told the queen what he had said, and the queen saw as plain as the nose on her face that she must go herself if she would have the lad come at her bidding.
There sat the lad back of the stove. And would he come with her now?
Yes, indeed, that he would. So he slipped from behind the stove and to
And did the queen really get the best in the world? Bless your heart, my dear, wait until you are as old as I am, and have been married as long, and you will be able to answer that question without the asking.
HIC LIBER CAPITE NOSTRO FACTUS EST MANUQUE NOSTRA
RIDEANT HOMINUM STULTITIAS STULTI, SED
NE, QUOD IN STULTITIIS HOMINUM
HOMINIS ALIQUID EST,
OMNIA IN LEVI
HABEAMUS
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Howard Pyle, The Wonder Clock