Allegories of Life | Page 3

the ascent so tedious for his feeble steps that he went into the
valley to live.
It was very hard for him to give up the view from its lofty height of the
sun which sank so peacefully to rest. Long before the sleepers in the
valley awoke, he was watching the golden orb as it broke through the
mists and flung its beauties over the hills.
"This must be my last day upon the mountain top," he said. "The little
strength which is left me I must devote to the culture of fruit and
flowers in the valley, and no longer spend it in climbing up and down
these hills, whose tops rest their peaks in the fleecy clouds. I have
enjoyed many years of repose and grandeur, and must devote the
remainder of my life to helping the people in the valley."
At sunset the old man descended, with staff in hand, and went slowly
down the mountain side. Such lovely blossoms, pink, golden, and
scarlet, met his eye as he gazed on the gardens of the laborers, that he
involuntarily exclaimed, "I fear I have spent my days not wisely on
yonder mountain top, taking at least a third of my time in climbing up
and down. Richer flowers grow here in the valley; the air is softer, and
the grass like velvet to the tread. I'll see if there is a vacant cottage for
me."
Saying this, he accosted a laborer who was just returning from his toil:
"Good man, do you know of any cottage near which I can rent?"
"Why! you are the old man from the mountain," exclaimed the
astonished person addressed.
"I am coming to the valley to live. I am now seeking a shelter."
"Yonder," answered the man, "is a cottage just vacated by a man and
wife. Would that suit you?"

"Anything that will shelter me will suit," was the answer. "Dost thou
know who owns the house?"
"Von Nellser, the gardener. He lives down by the river now, and works
for all the rich men in the valley."
"I'll see him to-night," said the old man, and, thanking his informant,
was moving on.
"But, good father, the sun has already set; the night shades appear.
Come and share my shelter and bread to-night, and in the morning seek
Von Nellser."
The old man gladly accepted his kind offer. "The vale makes men
kindly of heart and feeling," he said, as he uncovered his head to enter
the home of the laborer. A fair woman of forty came forward, and
clasped his hand with a warmth of manner which made him feel more
at ease than many words of welcome would have done.
The three sat together at supper, and refreshed themselves with food
and thought.
He retired early to the nice apartment assigned him, and lay awake a
long time, musing on the past and the present. "Ah, I see," he said to
himself, "why I am an object of wonder and something of awe to the
people of the valley. I have lived apart from human ties, while they
have grown old and ripe together. I must be a riddle to them all--a
something which they have invested with an air of veneration, because
I was not daily in their midst. Had it been otherwise, I should have been
neither new nor fresh to them. How know I but this is God's reserve
force wherewith each may become refreshed, and myself an humble
instrument sent in the right moment to vivify those who have been
thinking alike too much?"
He fell asleep, and awoke just as the sun was throwing its bright rays
over his bed. "Dear old day-god," he said, with reverence, and arose
and dressed himself, still eying the sun's early rays. "One of thy golden
messengers must content me now," he said, a little sadly. "I can no
longer see thee in all thy majesty marching up the mountain side; no
longer can I follow thee walking over the hill-tops, and resting thy head
against the crimson sky at evening: but smile on me, Sun, while in the
vale I tarry, and warm my seeds to life while on thy daily march."
The old man went from his room refreshed by sleep, and partook of the
bread and honey which the kind woman had ready for him. Then,

thanking them for their hospitality, he departed.
The laborer and wife watched him out of sight, and thought they had
never seen anything more beautiful than his white hair waving in the
morning breeze.
At dusk a light shone in the vacant cottage, and they sent him fresh
cakes, milk, and honey for his evening meal.
* * * * *
Ten years passed away. The old man had