"Condescend, sir, to inspect and make a trial of this bag." He put his hand into his pocket, and drew from it a moderately sized, firmly stitched purse of thick cordovan, with two convenient leather cords hanging to it, which he presented to me. I instantly dipped into it, drew from it ten pieces of gold, and ten more, and ten more, and yet ten more. I stretched out my hand. "Done! The bargain is made. I give you my shadow for your purse!" He grasped my hand and knelt down behind me, and with wonderful dexterity I perceived him loosening my shadow from the ground from head to foot. He lifted it up, rolled it together, folded it, and at last put it into his pocket. He then stood erect, bowed to me again, and returned back to the rosegrove. I thought I heard him laughing softly to himself. I, however, held the purse tight by its strings. The earth was sun-bright all around me, and I swooned away.

At last I came to, and hastened from a place where apparently I had no further business. I first filled my pockets with gold, then firmly secured the strings of the purse round my neck, taking care to conceal the purse itself in my bosom. I left the park unnoticed, reached the highroad, and bent my way to the town. I was walking thoughtfully toward the gate, when I heard a voice behind me: "Hullo, young gentleman! Hullo! Don't you hear?" I looked round. An old woman was calling after me. "Take care, sir, take care-you have lost your shadow!" "Thanks, good woman." I threw her a piece of gold for her well-meant counsel, and walked away under the trees.

At the gate I was again condemned to hear from the sentinel, "Where has the gentleman left his shadow?" And immediately afterward a couple of women exclaimed, "Good heavens! the poor fellow has no shadow!" I began to be vexed, and carefully avoided walking in the sun. This I could not always do for instance, in Broad Street, which I was next compelled to cross, and, as ill-luck would have it, at the very moment when the boys were being released from school. A confounded hunchbacked vagabond-I see him at this moment-had observed that I wanted a shadow. He instantly began to bawl out to the young scamps of the suburbs, who first reviled me, and then bespattered me with mud. Respectable people usually take their shadows with them when they go into the sun!" I scattered handfuls of gold among them to divert their attention, and, with the assistance of some compassionate souls, sprang into a hackney-coach.-" Peter Schlemihl."

"

The Pigtail

THERE lived a sage in days of yore,
And he a handsome pigtail were;
But wondered much, and sorrowed more,
Because it hung behind him.

He mused upon this curious case,
And swore he'd change the pigtail's place,
And have it hanging at his face,

Not dangling there behind him.

Says he, "The mystery I've found;

I'll turn me round." He turned him round,

But still it hung behind him.

Then round, and round, and out, and in,
All day the puzzled sage did spin;
In vain-it mattered not a pin-
The pigtail hung behind him.

And right, and left, and round about,
And up, and down, and in, and out
He turned. But still the pigtail stout
Hung steadily behind him.

And though his efforts never slack,
And though he twist, and whirl, and tack,
Alas! still faithful to his back

The pigtail hangs behind him!

Karl Julius Weber

Satire in the Middle Ages

THE Middle Ages brought forth a great quantity of satirical writings in Latin, which have sunk into dead obscurity. Generous matter was afforded by the canting, puffed-up clerics, waddling behind their fat paunches, blunt to all human sympathy and open to every vice; after them, the courts and courtiers, the pedants, and the women were taken in turn. Satire was then as rough as the language of a day when, instead of saying, "Pray, pardon me," or "With your kind permission," you boxed a man's ears-in compliance with those good old German maxims: "An et cetera calls for a slap in the face," and "A slap in the face calls for a dagger." Freedom and rudeness are always faithful cousins; ribaldry and filth count for wit in unpolished times, as is proved even by Boccaccio, Rabelais, and Luther-a shining example of the Middle Ages.

A learned jurist made an inquiry into the subject of faceslapping, employing the precise classification of slaps complete and incomplete, faint and resounding, jocular and severe, punitive and praising. He set up the questions: Can a hand without fingers administer a box on the ear? May a father box the ears of a son older than twelve, or a hus-. band his wife's, without incurring a suit for divorce? (This last he answers in the affirmative, on the ground that the biblical one flesh" is only meant figuratively.) Is it allowed to box people's ears by prearrangement, or to follow out the popular saying, "A slap in the face for a lie"? If

a girl declines to dance at a ball when challenged by the master of ceremonies, or if a man refuses to answer a pledge in drinking, may a box on the ear be applied? When a right worshipful magistrate imposes a fine of ten Thaler for boxing a man's ears, is one, by paying ten Thaler more, entitled to the privilege of boxing his Worship's own ears?

In those dark ages Emperor Frederick II, a liberal-minded monarch, who was above the superstitious follies of his day and laughed at them, was banished to the infernal regions by Dante as a heretic, for saying, "God cannot have known Naples, or He would not have chosen the miserable Palestine for the heritage of His people." King John of England was hated by the clergy, not because he was a bad man, but because he had exclaimed, on seeing a fine, well-fed stag, "How sleek and fat, and never goes to Mass!" Luther pursued the clerical quarry routed out by Brother Philip Melanchthon-who was less steeped in monkish prejudicein a wild, furious spirit; Erasmus was subtle and smiling; Hutten was mordantly satirical. But Luther knew nothing else than vilification, like the other polemical writers of his day. When he was abused, he returned the compliment in kind, though it must be acknowledged that his vigorous words inspired the German nation, while his leaflets flew from one frontier to another, for never had German ears heard such a plain, such an eloquent, such a German appeal.

In accordance with the manner of his time, Martin Luther simply dubbed the papal decrees and decretals "excretals"; the bull referring to the Lord's Supper, he called the pope's

"

evening mash"; and the papists, asses"; he desired every good Christian to spit on the papal coat of arms, and to throw mud at it for the glory of God; the Pope, his cardinals, and all that tribe, were to have their tongues torn out by the