In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was in old
time a valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It
was surrounded on all sides by steep and rocky mountains rising into
peaks which were always covered with snow and from which a number of
torrents descended in constant cataracts. One of these fell
westward over the face of a crag so high that when the sun had set
to everything else, and all below was darkness, his beams still
shone full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a shower of
gold. It was therefore called by the people of the neighborhood the
Golden River. It was strange that none of these streams fell into
the valley itself. They all descended on the other side of the
mountains and wound away through broad plains and by populous
cities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills,
and rested so softly in the circular hollow, that in time of drought
and heat, when all the country round was burnt up, there was still
rain in the little valley; and its crops were so heavy, and its hay
so high, and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine
so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to everyone
who beheld it and was commonly called the Treasure Valley.
The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers,
called Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder
brothers, were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small,
dull eyes which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into
THEM and always fancied they saw very far into YOU. They lived by
farming the Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They
killed everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the
blackbirds because they pecked the fruit, and killed the hedgehogs
lest they should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for
eating the crumbs in the kitchen, and smothered the cicadas which
used to sing all summer in the lime trees. They worked their
servants without any wages till they would not work any more, and
then quarreled with them and turned them out of doors without paying
them. It would have been very odd if with such a farm and such a
system of farming they hadn't got very rich; and very rich they DID
get. They generally contrived to keep their corn by them till it
was very dear, and then sell it for twice its value; they had heaps
of gold lying about on their floors, yet it was never known that
they had given so much as a penny or a crust in charity; they never
went to Mass, grumbled perpetually at paying tithes, and were, in a
word, of so cruel and grinding a temper as to receive from all those
with whom they had any dealings the nickname of the "Black
Brothers."
The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in
both appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly
be imagined or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair,
blue-eyed, and kind in temper to every living thing. He did not,
of course, agree particularly well with his brothers, or, rather,
they did not agree with HIM. He was usually appointed to the
honorable office of turnspit, when there was anything to roast,
which was not often, for, to do the brothers justice, they were
hardly less sparing upon themselves than upon other people. At
other times he used to clean the shoes, floors, and sometimes the
plates, occasionally getting what was left on them, by way of
encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows by way of
education.
Things went on in this manner for a long time. At last came
a very wet summer, and everything went wrong in the country round.
The hay had hardly been got in when the haystacks were floated
bodily down to the sea by an inundation; the vines were cut to
pieces with the hail; the corn was all killed by a black blight.
Only in the Treasure Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had
rain when there was rain nowhere else, so it had sun when there
was sun nowhere else. Everybody came to buy corn at the farm and
went away pouring maledictions on the Black Brothers. They asked
what they liked and got it, except from the poor people, who could
only beg, and several of whom were starved at their very door
without the slightest regard or notice.
It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, when
one day the two elder brothers had gone out, with their usual
warning to little Gluck, who was left to mind the roast, that he
was to let nobody in and give nothing out. Gluck sat down quite
close to the fire, for it was raining very hard and the kitchen
walls were by no means dry or comfortable-looking. He turned and
turned, and the roast got nice and brown. "What a pity," thought
Gluck, "my brothers never ask anybody to dinner. I'm sure, when
they've got such a nice piece of mutton as this, and nobody else
has got so much as a piece of dry bread, it would do their hearts
good to have somebody to eat it with them."
Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house door,
yet heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been tied up--more
like a puff than a knock.
"It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else would
venture to knock double knocks at our door."
No, it wasn't the wind; there it came again very hard, and,
what was particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a
hurry and not to be in the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck
went to the window, opened it, and put his head out to see who it was.
It was the most extraordinary-looking little gentleman he had
ever seen in his life. He had a very large nose, slightly brass-colored; his cheeks were very round and very red, and might have
warranted a supposition that he had been blowing a refractory fire
for the last eight-and-forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily
through long, silky eyelashes; his mustaches curled twice round like
a corkscrew on each side of his mouth; and his hair, of a curious
mixed pepper-and-salt color, descended far over his shoulders. He
was about four feet six in height and wore a conical pointed cap of
nearly the same altitude, decorated with a black feather some three
feet long. His doublet was prolonged behind into something
resembling a violent exaggeration of what is now termed a
"swallowtail," but was much obscured by the swelling folds of an
enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must have been very much
too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling round the old
house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders to about
four times his own length.
Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the singular appearance of
his visitor that he remained fixed without uttering a word, until
the old gentleman, having performed another and a more energetic
concerto on the knocker, turned round to look after his flyaway
cloak. In so doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head
jammed in the window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed.
"Hollo!" said the little gentleman; "that's not the way to
answer the door. I'm wet; let me in."
To do the little gentleman justice, he WAS wet. His feather
hung down between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping
like an umbrella, and from the ends of his mustaches the water was
running into his waistcoat pockets and out again like a mill
stream.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but, I
really can't."
"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.
"I can't let you in, sir--I can't, indeed; my brothers would
beat me to death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you
want, sir?"
"Want?" said the old gentleman petulantly. "I want fire and
shelter, and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and
dancing on the walls with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I
only want to warm myself."
Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window
that he began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he
turned and saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring and throwing
long, bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops
at the savory smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within
him that it should be burning away for nothing. "He does look very
wet," said little Gluck; "I'll just let him in for a quarter of an
hour." Round he went to the door and opened it; and as the little
gentleman walked in, there came a gust of wind through the house
that made the old chimneys totter.
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