THE GOLOSHES OF FORTUNE [8]
a rich, respectable man, whose name is doubtless
in the directory. Then he entered the heart of this man's wife; it was
an old, tumble-down pigeon-house; the husband's portrait served as a
weather-cock; it was connected with all the doors, which opened and
shut just as the husband's decision turned. The next heart was a
complete cabinet of mirrors, such as can be seen in the Castle of
Rosenberg. But these mirrors magnified in an astonishing degree; in
the middle of the floor sat, like the Grand Lama, the insignificant
I of the owner, astonished at the contemplation of his own features.
At his next visit he fancied he must have got into a narrow
needlecase, full of sharp needles: "Oh," thought he, "this must be the
heart of an old maid;" but such was not the fact; it belonged to a
young officer, who wore several orders, and was said to be a man of
intellect and heart.
The poor volunteer came out of the last heart in the row quite
bewildered. He could not collect his thoughts, and imagined his
foolish fancies had carried him away. "Good gracious!" he sighed, "I
must have a tendency to softening of the brain, and here it is so
exceedingly hot that the blood is rushing to my head." And then
suddenly recurred to him the strange event of the evening before, when
his head had been fixed between the iron railings in front of the
hospital. "That is the cause of it all!" he exclaimed, "I must do
something in time. A Russian bath would be a very good thing to
begin with. I wish I were lying on one of the highest shelves." Sure
enough, there he lay on an upper shelf of a vapor bath, still in his
evening costume, with his boots and goloshes on, and the hot drops
from the ceiling falling on his face. "Ho!" he cried, jumping down and
rushing towards the plunging bath. The attendant stopped him with a
loud cry, when he saw a man with all his clothes on. The volunteer
had, however, presence of mind enough to whisper, "It is for a wager;"
but the first thing he did, when he reached his own room, was to put a
large blister on his neck, and another on his back, that his crazy fit
might be cured. The next morning his back was very sore, which was all
he gained by the goloshes of Fortune.
THE CLERK'S TRANSFORMATION
The watchman, whom we of course have not forgotten, thought, after
a while, of the goloshes which he had found and taken to the hospital;
so he went and fetched them. But neither the lieutenant nor any one in
the street could recognize them as their own, so he gave them up to
the police. "They look exactly like my own goloshes," said one of
the clerks, examining the unknown articles, as they stood by the
side of his own. "It would require even more than the eye of a
shoemaker to know one pair from the other."
"Master clerk," said a servant who entered with some papers. The
clerk turned and spoke to the man; but when he had done with him, he
turned to look at the goloshes again, and now he was in greater
doubt than ever as to whether the pair on the right or on the left
belonged to him. "Those that are wet must be mine," thought he; but he
thought wrong, it was just the reverse. The goloshes of Fortune were
the wet pair; and, besides, why should not a clerk in a police
office be wrong sometimes? So he drew them on, thrust his papers
into his pocket, placed a few manuscripts under his arm, which he
had to take with him, and to make abstracts from at home. Then, as
it was Sunday morning and the weather very fine, he said to himself,
"A walk to Fredericksburg will do me good:" so away he went.
There could not be a quieter or more steady young man than this
clerk. We will not grudge him this little walk, it was just the
thing to do him good after sitting so much. He went on at first like a
mere automaton, without thought or wish; therefore the goloshes had no
opportunity to display their magic power. In the avenue he met with an
acquaintance, one of our young poets, who told him
in the directory. Then he entered the heart of this man's wife; it was
an old, tumble-down pigeon-house; the husband's portrait served as a
weather-cock; it was connected with all the doors, which opened and
shut just as the husband's decision turned. The next heart was a
complete cabinet of mirrors, such as can be seen in the Castle of
Rosenberg. But these mirrors magnified in an astonishing degree; in
the middle of the floor sat, like the Grand Lama, the insignificant
I of the owner, astonished at the contemplation of his own features.
At his next visit he fancied he must have got into a narrow
needlecase, full of sharp needles: "Oh," thought he, "this must be the
heart of an old maid;" but such was not the fact; it belonged to a
young officer, who wore several orders, and was said to be a man of
intellect and heart.
The poor volunteer came out of the last heart in the row quite
bewildered. He could not collect his thoughts, and imagined his
foolish fancies had carried him away. "Good gracious!" he sighed, "I
must have a tendency to softening of the brain, and here it is so
exceedingly hot that the blood is rushing to my head." And then
suddenly recurred to him the strange event of the evening before, when
his head had been fixed between the iron railings in front of the
hospital. "That is the cause of it all!" he exclaimed, "I must do
something in time. A Russian bath would be a very good thing to
begin with. I wish I were lying on one of the highest shelves." Sure
enough, there he lay on an upper shelf of a vapor bath, still in his
evening costume, with his boots and goloshes on, and the hot drops
from the ceiling falling on his face. "Ho!" he cried, jumping down and
rushing towards the plunging bath. The attendant stopped him with a
loud cry, when he saw a man with all his clothes on. The volunteer
had, however, presence of mind enough to whisper, "It is for a wager;"
but the first thing he did, when he reached his own room, was to put a
large blister on his neck, and another on his back, that his crazy fit
might be cured. The next morning his back was very sore, which was all
he gained by the goloshes of Fortune.
THE CLERK'S TRANSFORMATION
The watchman, whom we of course have not forgotten, thought, after
a while, of the goloshes which he had found and taken to the hospital;
so he went and fetched them. But neither the lieutenant nor any one in
the street could recognize them as their own, so he gave them up to
the police. "They look exactly like my own goloshes," said one of
the clerks, examining the unknown articles, as they stood by the
side of his own. "It would require even more than the eye of a
shoemaker to know one pair from the other."
"Master clerk," said a servant who entered with some papers. The
clerk turned and spoke to the man; but when he had done with him, he
turned to look at the goloshes again, and now he was in greater
doubt than ever as to whether the pair on the right or on the left
belonged to him. "Those that are wet must be mine," thought he; but he
thought wrong, it was just the reverse. The goloshes of Fortune were
the wet pair; and, besides, why should not a clerk in a police
office be wrong sometimes? So he drew them on, thrust his papers
into his pocket, placed a few manuscripts under his arm, which he
had to take with him, and to make abstracts from at home. Then, as
it was Sunday morning and the weather very fine, he said to himself,
"A walk to Fredericksburg will do me good:" so away he went.
There could not be a quieter or more steady young man than this
clerk. We will not grudge him this little walk, it was just the
thing to do him good after sitting so much. He went on at first like a
mere automaton, without thought or wish; therefore the goloshes had no
opportunity to display their magic power. In the avenue he met with an
acquaintance, one of our young poets, who told him