THE MARSH KING'S DAUGHTER [6]
heard the story, snapped with his beak so that it
might be heard a long way off.
'Deceit and lies!" cried he; "I should like to run my beak deep
into their chests."
"And perhaps break it off," said the mamma stork, "then what a
sight you would be. Think first of yourself, and then of your
family; all others are nothing to us."
"Yes, I know," said the stork-papa; "but to-morrow I can easily
place myself on the edge of the open cupola, when the learned and wise
men assemble to consult on the state of the sick man; perhaps they may
come a little nearer to the truth." And the learned and wise men
assembled together, and talked a great deal on every point; but the
stork could make no sense out of anything they said; neither were
there any good results from their consultations, either for the sick
man, or for his daughter in the marshy heath. When we listen to what
people say in this world, we shall hear a great deal; but it is an
advantage to know what has been said and done before, when we listen
to a conversation. The stork did, and we know at least as much as
he, the stork.
"Love is a life-giver. The highest love produces the highest life.
Only through love can the sick man be cured." This had been said by
many, and even the learned men acknowledged that it was a wise saying.
"What a beautiful thought!" exclaimed the papa stork immediately.
"I don't quite understand it," said the mamma stork, when her
husband repeated it; "however, it is not my fault, but the fault of
the thought; whatever it may be, I have something else to think of."
Now the learned men had spoken also of love between this one and
that one; of the difference of the love which we have for our
neighbor, to the love that exists between parents and children; of the
love of the plant for the light, and how the germ springs forth when
the sunbeam kisses the ground. All these things were so elaborately
and learnedly explained, that it was impossible for stork-papa to
follow it, much less to talk about it. His thoughts on the subject
quite weighed him down; he stood the whole of the following day on one
leg, with half-shut eyes, thinking deeply. So much learning was
quite a heavy weight for him to carry. One thing, however, the papa
stork could understand. Every one, high and low, had from their inmost
hearts expressed their opinion that it was a great misfortune for so
many thousands of people- the whole country indeed- to have this man
so sick, with no hopes of his recovery. And what joy and blessing it
would spread around if he could by any means be cured! But where
bloomed the flower that could bring him health? They had searched
for it everywhere; in learned writings, in the shining stars, in the
weather and wind. Inquiries had been made in every by-way that could
be thought of, until at last the wise and learned men has asserted, as
we have been already told, that "love, the life-giver, could alone
give new life to a father;" and in saying this, they had overdone
it, and said more than they understood themselves. They repeated it,
and wrote it down as a recipe, "Love is a life-giver." But how could
such a recipe be prepared- that was a difficulty they could not
overcome. At last it was decided that help could only come from the
princess herself, whose whole soul was wrapped up in her father,
especially as a plan had been adopted by her to enable her to obtain a
remedy.
More than a year had passed since the princess had set out at
night, when the light of the young moon was soon lost beneath the
horizon. She had gone to the marble sphinx in the desert, shaking
the sand from her sandals, and then passed through the long passage,
which leads to the centre of one of the great pyramids, where the
mighty kings of antiquity, surrounded with pomp and splendor, lie
veiled in the form of mummies. She had been told by the wise men, that
if she laid her head on the breast of one of them, from the head she
would learn
might be heard a long way off.
'Deceit and lies!" cried he; "I should like to run my beak deep
into their chests."
"And perhaps break it off," said the mamma stork, "then what a
sight you would be. Think first of yourself, and then of your
family; all others are nothing to us."
"Yes, I know," said the stork-papa; "but to-morrow I can easily
place myself on the edge of the open cupola, when the learned and wise
men assemble to consult on the state of the sick man; perhaps they may
come a little nearer to the truth." And the learned and wise men
assembled together, and talked a great deal on every point; but the
stork could make no sense out of anything they said; neither were
there any good results from their consultations, either for the sick
man, or for his daughter in the marshy heath. When we listen to what
people say in this world, we shall hear a great deal; but it is an
advantage to know what has been said and done before, when we listen
to a conversation. The stork did, and we know at least as much as
he, the stork.
"Love is a life-giver. The highest love produces the highest life.
Only through love can the sick man be cured." This had been said by
many, and even the learned men acknowledged that it was a wise saying.
"What a beautiful thought!" exclaimed the papa stork immediately.
"I don't quite understand it," said the mamma stork, when her
husband repeated it; "however, it is not my fault, but the fault of
the thought; whatever it may be, I have something else to think of."
Now the learned men had spoken also of love between this one and
that one; of the difference of the love which we have for our
neighbor, to the love that exists between parents and children; of the
love of the plant for the light, and how the germ springs forth when
the sunbeam kisses the ground. All these things were so elaborately
and learnedly explained, that it was impossible for stork-papa to
follow it, much less to talk about it. His thoughts on the subject
quite weighed him down; he stood the whole of the following day on one
leg, with half-shut eyes, thinking deeply. So much learning was
quite a heavy weight for him to carry. One thing, however, the papa
stork could understand. Every one, high and low, had from their inmost
hearts expressed their opinion that it was a great misfortune for so
many thousands of people- the whole country indeed- to have this man
so sick, with no hopes of his recovery. And what joy and blessing it
would spread around if he could by any means be cured! But where
bloomed the flower that could bring him health? They had searched
for it everywhere; in learned writings, in the shining stars, in the
weather and wind. Inquiries had been made in every by-way that could
be thought of, until at last the wise and learned men has asserted, as
we have been already told, that "love, the life-giver, could alone
give new life to a father;" and in saying this, they had overdone
it, and said more than they understood themselves. They repeated it,
and wrote it down as a recipe, "Love is a life-giver." But how could
such a recipe be prepared- that was a difficulty they could not
overcome. At last it was decided that help could only come from the
princess herself, whose whole soul was wrapped up in her father,
especially as a plan had been adopted by her to enable her to obtain a
remedy.
More than a year had passed since the princess had set out at
night, when the light of the young moon was soon lost beneath the
horizon. She had gone to the marble sphinx in the desert, shaking
the sand from her sandals, and then passed through the long passage,
which leads to the centre of one of the great pyramids, where the
mighty kings of antiquity, surrounded with pomp and splendor, lie
veiled in the form of mummies. She had been told by the wise men, that
if she laid her head on the breast of one of them, from the head she
would learn