Twilight Land | Page 4

but there were ever so many: Aladdin, and Ali
Baba, and Fortunatis, and Jack-the-Giant-Killer, and Doctor Faustus,
and Bidpai, and Cinderella, and Patient Grizzle, and the Soldier who
cheated the Devil, and St. George, and Hans in Luck, who traded and
traded his lump of gold until he had only an empty churn to show for it;
and there was Sindbad the Sailor, and the Tailor who killed seven flies
at a blow, and the Fisherman who fished up the Genie, and the Lad who
fiddled for the Jew in the bramble-bush, and the Blacksmith who made
Death sit in his apple-tree, and Boots, who always marries the Princess,
whether he wants to or not--a rag-tag lot as ever you saw in your life,
gathered from every place, and brought together in Twilight Land.
Each one of them was telling a story, and now it was the turn of the
Soldier who cheated the Devil.
"I will tell you," said the Soldier who cheated the Devil, "a story of a
friend of mine."
"Take a fresh pipe of tobacco," said St. George.
"Thank you, I will," said the Soldier who cheated the Devil.
He filled his long pipe full of tobacco, and then he tilted it upside down
and sucked in the light of the candle.
Puff! puff! puff! and a cloud of smoke went up about his head, so that
you could just see his red nose shining through it, and his bright eyes
twinkling in the midst of the smoke-wreath, like two stars through a
thin cloud on a summer night.
"I'll tell you," said the Soldier who cheated the Devil, "the story of a
friend of mine. Tis every word of it just as true as that I myself cheated
the Devil."
He took a drink from his mug of beer, and then he began.

"Tis called," said he--
The Stool of Fortune
Once upon a time there came a soldier marching along the road,
kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step--as strapping and merry
and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to see in a summer day.
Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as he jogged along,
though he carried a heavy musket over his shoulder and though the sun
shone hot and strong and there was never a tree in sight to give him a
bit of shelter.
At last he came in sight of the King's Town and to a great field of
stocks and stones, and there sat a little old man as withered and brown
as a dead leaf, and clad all in scarlet from head to foot.
"Ho! soldier," said he, "are you a good shot?"
"Aye," said the soldier, "that is my trade."
"Would you like to earn a dollar by shooting off your musket for me?"
"Aye," said the soldier, "that is my trade also."
"Very well, then," said the little man in red, "here is a silver button to
drop into your gun instead of a bullet. Wait you here, and about sunset
there will come a great black bird flying. In one claw it carries a feather
cap and in the other a round stone. Shoot me the silver button at that
bird, and if your aim is good it will drop the feather cap and the pebble.
Bring them to me to the great town-gate and I will pay you a dollar for
your trouble."
"Very well," said the soldier, "shooting my gun is a job that fits me like
an old coat." So, down he sat and the old man went his way.
Well, there he sat and sat and sat and sat until the sun touched the rim
of the ground, and then, just as the old man said, there came flying a
great black bird as silent as night. The soldier did not tarry to look or to
think. As the bird flew by up came the gun to his shoulder, squint went
his eye along the barrel--Puff! bang!--
I vow and declare that if the shot he fired had cracked the sky he could
not have been more frightened. The great black bird gave a yell so
terrible that it curdled the very blood in his veins and made his hair
stand upon end. Away it flew like a flash--a bird no longer, but a great,
black demon, smoking and smelling most horribly of brimstone, and
when the soldier gathered his wits, there lay the feather cap and a little,
round, black stone upon the ground.

"Well," said the soldier, "it is little wonder that the old man had no
liking to shoot at such game as that." And thereupon he popped the
feather cap into one pocket and the round stone into another, and
shouldering his musket marched away