The Prudent Counsellor

Alois Zoschg was a peasant of the Sarnthal; his holding was

inconsiderable, but it sufficed for all his needs; his cottage was

small, but his family consisted of only himself and his daughter,

and they found room for all their requirements.

Katharina was bright enough, however, to make any home happy. Though

she shared the cottage with her father alone, she never seemed to

feel the want of younger companions; thoughtful and prudent beyond her

years, and thrifty and notable with all the work of the place, she was

at the same time always ready with her joke and her song. It was no

wonder that her father doated on her, and looked forward all through

the day's toil to the evening spent in cheerful conversation with her.

There were thus the elements of a pleasant existence in Alois' lot,

but there were two disturbing causes also. One was his own temper,

which was violent and ungovernable at times, when he was seriously

provoked. The other was the jealousy and animosity of a rich peasant

neighbour, Andrä Margesin, the owner of a considerable Hof [69]

situated at no great distance from Zoschg's cottage, auf der Putzen.

Circumstances had constantly brought the two neighbours into collision;

the fault generally lay, in the first instance, on the side of the

rich Andrä Margesin, who was grasping and overbearing, but Alois Zoschg

once roused, would never let a quarrel rest, and his irritability and

revengeful spirit were oftentimes enough to disturb the peace of the

whole neighbourhood. No one could say where such quarrels might have

ended, what crimes might perhaps have been the result, but for the

wise interposition of Katharina, who knew how to soothe her father's

ruffled spirit without ever exceeding the limits of filial respect,

as well as how to conciliate the rich neighbour, without condescending

to the use of any servile arts.

By her extraordinary good sense and good temper alone, she would,

time after time, bring both the men back to sober reason from the

highest reach of fury.

Once, however, they had a dispute which was beyond her competence to

decide for them, for it involved a question of law. Andrä Margesin

accused Alois Zoschg of an encroachment, while Alois Zoschg maintained

he was justified in what he had done, by prescriptive right. The

dispute raged high, but all Katharina could do in this case to restore

peace, was to exact a promise from both parties that they would cease

from all mutual recrimination, and carry the matter to be decided

for them by the judge in Botzen.

When the day of hearing came on, the two disputants went up to Botzen

to plead their cause; but each was so determined not to give way,

and had so much to say in defence of his own position, and to the

disparagement of his antagonist, that they carried their pleadings on

for six days, and yet there seemed no chance of arriving at a decision

which should be thoroughly justified by the evidence, so contradictory

was it. At last, the judge, getting tired of the prolonged controversy,

and finding it impossible to moderate the virulence of the combatants,

told them that he could have no more wrangling, they had so confused

the case with their statements and counter-statements, that it was

impossible to say which of them was right, or, rather, which of them

was least in the wrong; but he gave them one chance of obtaining a

decision of the matter, and that was by accepting a test, which he

would propound, of their ability and judgment, and whichever succeeded

in that, he should pronounce was the one who was in the right in the

original pleading.

The rivals looked somewhat disconcerted at this mode of procedure,

but, as they found they could not get the affair decided on any other

terms, they at last agreed to accept the proposal.

"You must tell me, then," said the judge, "by to-morrow morning at

this hour, what is that which is the Strongest, the Richest, and

the most Beautiful;" with these words he left the judgment-seat,

and the two peasants were left standing opposite each other, looking

very foolish, for they both thought that it would be impossible ever

to answer such a question.

After a few moments' consideration, however, Andrä Margesin, who

was a very vain man, bethought himself of an answer which, to his

mind, seemed indisputably the right one. "To be sure! Of course! I

wonder I didn't see it at once! There can be no doubt about it!" he

exclaimed, aloud; and clapping his hands, and making other triumphant

gesticulations, he stalked off homewards, telling all his friends

that he had no doubt of the result.

But poor Alois Zoschg, the more he thought, the more puzzled he got,

and the boasts of Andrä Margesin only made him more furious. There

he stood, crying out against the judge, and against his ill-luck,

against his poverty and the opulence of Margesin, till it became

necessary to close the court, and his friends prevailed on him to

go home. But all the way his passion grew more and more outrageous,

and by the time he reached his cottage he was raging like a maniac;

the other men could do nothing with him, and slunk away one by one,

some in disgust, some in despair.

It was now Katharina's turn; and Katharina came out to meet him with

her brightest smile and her filial greeting, just as if he had been

in the best humour in the world.

But, for the first time, the sight of Katharina seemed rather to

increase than allay his anger; for he found her dressed in all her

festal attire--a proceeding which was quite out of character with

his present disposition.

There was he, worn out with the long dispute, the weariness of the

delayed decision, the provocation of his enemy's insulting mien,

and still more, perhaps, by his own ill-humour; and there she stood,

all smiles and bright colours, as for a joyful occasion--the white

Stotzhaube [70] coquettishly set on her braided hair, the scarlet

bodice tightly embracing her comely shape, with "follow-my-lads

[71]" streamers from her shoulder-knot, the bright red stockings

showing under her short black skirt, and the blue apron over it,

in place of the white apron of working days! Could any thing be more

incongruous? was it not enough to increase his madness?

Nevertheless, Katharina's judgment so uniformly approved itself to

his better reason, that, the first impulse passed, he gulped down

the rising exclamation of annoyance until he had heard what Katharina

had to say.

"Well, father, so you're all right! and I'm the first to congratulate

you," she cried, and flung her arms round him with an embrace,

of which, even in his present state of excitement, he could hardly

resist the tenderness and effusion, and as if she did not perceive

the traces of his ill-humour.

"'Right,' wench! what mean you? all wrong you should say."

"No, no, I mean it is all right; and it only remains for you to hear

it pronounced by the judge to-morrow--and haven't I put on my gala

suit to celebrate your success?"

"Success! speak! what mean you?" cried Alois, eagerly, his stormy

vexation melting away before the sunbeam of her encouragement.

"Why, what has the judge told you to do, to decide the case?" asked

Katharina, who had heard it all from a neighbour who came home hours

before, while Alois was still standing perplexed in the court.

"That I should tell him by to-morrow morning," replied Alois, softened

already by her consoling manner, "what it is which is the strongest,

the richest, and the most beautiful--and how am I ever to guess all

that? And what's more," he continued, relapsing into his former state

of vexation, "that fellow Andrä Margesin has guessed it--guessed it

already! and is gone off proclaiming his triumph!"

"No, father!" exclaimed Katharina, with a mocking laugh, all of fun,

however, not of scorn; "you don't mean to say you believe that great

bully Andrä Margesin could have guessed the right answer?"

"But he said so! he went off telling every one so," rejoined Alois,

positively.

"Oh, you dear, good, simple father! do you really believe it is so

because he boasts of it? Do rest easy; he's not got it."

"Well, but if he hasn't, I haven't either. How am I to guess such

captious absurdities? Why couldn't the man judge the thing on its

merits, instead of tormenting one to this extent?" and Alois was

getting cross again.

"Why, it is the best chance in the world, you couldn't have been

more favoured! As to Andrä, he'll never guess it. Now just think what

answer you'll give."

"Oh, I should never guess any, if I thought till doomsday! But

you"--and he started with the clever thought--"you, of course, who

always find a way out of every thing--what do you say?"

"Why," answered Katharina, readily, "what is Stronger than the

earth on which we stand, which bears up our houses and buildings,

our rocks and mighty mountains, which all our united efforts could

not suffice to move one inch from its place, and on which we all rest

secure, confident that none is strong enough to displace it? What more

Beauteous than spring, with its fresh, soft tints on sky and mountain,

on alp [72] and mead, on blossom and flower--spring, with its promise

and its hope? And what Richer than autumn, with its gifts which make

us glad for all the year--its bursting ears of grain, its clustered

grapes, its abundant olives and luscious fruits?"

"Katharina, girl, I believe you've found it!" said her father, with

enthusiasm. "My bonny girl has saved me this time also!" and he clasped

her in his arms. Though misgivings would come back when he recalled

Andrä's assurance, he yet went to bed happy in the consciousness of

at least having a good chance of not being beaten.

In the morning he was up betimes, and, having taken great pains to

learn what he had to say from Katharina, who walked a good stretch

of the way through the valley with him, he arrived at the court in

tolerably good humour.

Andrä was there before him, and in high good humour too; taking for

granted that, as the richer and more important man, and, moreover, as

the victor (so he felt assured), he had the right to speak first. As

soon as the judge had taken his seat, and even before he had called

on him for his answer, he began,--

"Sir judge, I have the answer to your enigma; and as soon as I have

told it, you will please give judgment in my favour. It was indeed easy

enough to find, so I claim no merit in the discovery," he added, with

the pride that apes humility. "The most Beautiful thing on earth is

my wife, of course; the Strongest, are my oxen; and the Richest, am I."

The judge listened without moving a muscle of his countenance, as

became a judge, and for those who were too obtuse to perceive the fine

irony of the smile with which he bowed to the speaker at the conclusion

of his harangue--and among these was certainly Andrä himself--it

seemed as if he was quite satisfied with the answer. Nevertheless,

he turned to Alois, and said,--

"Well, my man, and what is your answer?"

"But the judgment, good sir judge! would your honour be pleased to

pronounce the sentence in my favour, seeing I have given your worship

the answer?" interposed Andrä Margesin, fussily.

"Gently and fairly!" replied the judge; "wait only a little: we must

hear what friend Alois has to say. He might have an answer, you know;

and, anyhow, we must give him the opportunity."

Andrä chafed, but could not resist; and, at an encouraging word from

the judge, Alois stood forward and repeated word for word the answer

Katharina had taught him.

Though the judge had preserved his imperturbability through the

expression of Andrä's silly bombast, this answer of Alois was

too much for his composure. He had only proposed the enigma as

the means of getting rid of a perplexing case. He had no idea but

that both peasants would bring an answer of which he could easily

expose the folly; and thus, neither having fulfilled the prescribed

terms, the case would fall through of itself, and he be saved from

further trouble. But he saw nothing to reply to Alois' solution

of his question, nor any means of escaping from giving judgment in

his favour. Every body acquiesced in the justice of the decision;

and even Andrä himself had nothing to say, but, crestfallen, and in

very different style from his confidence of the day before, he made

his exit while people were yet engaged with the discussion of Alois'

success, so as to avoid alike scorn and condolence.

The session over, the judge called Alois aside, and inquired how he

had come to find so accurate an answer; upon which Alois, who burnt

to proclaim the merit of his child, at once referred the honour

to Katharina.

"That is it, is it?" replied the judge. "I have often seen the girl at

church, and am not surprised that so comely a form is inhabited by so

clever a mind. Now, go home, and tell your daughter that if she finds

out the way to come to me without any clothes on, and yet not naked;

not by day, and yet not by night; and by a way which shall be neither

a high-road nor yet a by-path, I shall take the opportunity of her

so coming to ask her to be my wife."

Alois lost no time in returning home to tell the good news to his

daughter. "I suppose you'll find one of your clever ways of doing it,

though, for myself, I confess I don't understand a word of it."

"But do you really mean that that good, noble, handsome judge really

means to make his wife of a poor peasant girl like me?"

"He might do worse," answered her father, with archness and pride. "But

there is no doubt he was in earnest. You should have seen the fire

in his eye when he spoke!"

"In that case, you may depend I will find the way to fulfil his

directions: trust me for that!"

Nor was she long in finding a way which satisfied the judge

completely. She took off all her clothes, and then covered herself

with fishing-nets; this for the first condition. Then, for the second,

she timed her journey in the dusk of evening, which is neither called

day nor night; and, for the third, she had previously had the road

covered with boards, and upon these she walked, so that she neither

trod the high-road nor yet a by-path.

Delighted at acquiring such a prize, and having so clever a maiden for

his future companion through life, the judge married Katharina before

the end of the month. There were great rejoicings at the wedding, to

which all the country-side was invited; and then the poor peasant girl

was installed in the judge's house. The judge, however, had exacted of

her one condition, which was that she should never interfere with any

of her clever suggestions in any case brought before him for decision,

but let justice take its free and uninterrupted course.

Years passed by happily enough. The judge rejoiced more and more

every day over the wisdom of his choice, and Katharina sedulously

observed the condition imposed upon her, and never interfered with

her husband's dealings in the court.

Nevertheless, it happened one day that a peasant whom she had known

from her infancy had a case before the judge which was nearly as

perplexed as that of her father had been, and, despairing of making

his right apparent, the peasant came to Katharina, and begged her,

by their lifelong friendship, to give him one of those good counsels

for which she had been so famous at home in the days gone by.

Katharina urged her promise to her husband, and for a long time refused

to break it; but the wily peasant contrived to work on her vanity so

effectually, that at last, in an evil moment, she consented this once

to give her advice, exacting first a promise he would never tell any

one she had done so.

The case was this. Her friend's Senner [73] had been visited in the

night by a Saligen Fraulein, who had promised to milk his cow for

him, and every one knew that when a Saligen Fraulein milked a cow,

it gave three times as much milk as the wont. But being a poor man,

and having only one cow, he eked out his living by taking in cows to

graze on his allotment; and he also only had one milking-pail. The

Saligen Fraulein, therefore, when she had milked his pail full, had

been obliged to take a pail belonging to the man to whom the other

cows belonged, who was a rich man, and had a store of all sorts of

utensils. But the milk being in one of his pails, his Senner swore

that it had been milked from one of his cows, and refused to give

it up, though he had no right to it whatever; and he had declined

payment for the use of the pail.

Though the case had been argued since the first thing that morning,

they were no nearer arriving at a decision. Now the disputants had been

ordered to stand back while another case was called, but it would come

on again immediately; and in the meantime the poor peasant entreated

Katharina's counsel as his only chance of rescuing his milk before

it turned sour.

"I see one means, I think, of bringing him to his senses,"

said Katharina, after she had yielded to her poor friend's

importunity. "When your case is called on again, show as much

indifference about the result as you have hitherto shown anxiety;

then tell your adversary that during this interval, which you spent

in the shade of the woods, a Saligen Fraulein had appeared to you

and advised you not to use any of the milk the one who appeared to

the Senner had milked for you, because she was a mischievous one,

and the milk she milked was bewitched, so that all who drank of it,

or of any milk mixed with it--were it only one drop of it--would be

turned into asses. Then add, 'But of course, if your pailful is really

the milk of your own cow, you have nothing to fear; so there's an

end of the dispute.' Then he will probably be so frightened by the

threat of this calamity that he will probably have nothing more to

do with the pail; and that will suffice to prove that it is not the

milk of his cow, and expose his deceit."

The peasant was so delighted with the wise counsel that he hardly

knew how to thank his benefactress, and readily gave her the promise

she required of not letting any one know he had even seen her.

He had scarcely got back to the court when the case was called on

again. The peasant carried out the advice he had received with great

shrewdness, and found it answer completely. Every body applauded

the craft by which he had confounded his would-be oppressor, and

the judge himself was very much pleased to see the end of such a

troublesome case.

A few minutes' thought, however, suggested to him that there was

more than a peasant's shrewdness in the matter, and he was not slow

to discern the guiding of his wife in it; so he called the peasant

apart, and had little difficulty in wringing from the simple clown

a confession of who had been his prompter.

The discovery made the judge set off homeward in great anger. His wife

had broken her promise--the fundamental condition of their union;

and he would have nothing more to say to her! Out of his house she

must go, whithersoever she would, but far away out of his sight.

Katharina, who had so often calmed her father's anger by her prudent

reasoning, exerted herself to the utmost to bring her husband back to a

better mind; but in vain. And all the concessions he would yield were,

to consent that they should eat their last dinner together, and that

she should take away with her one thing out of the house, whatever

she had most fancy for. It was not much to obtain when required to

part for ever from her home, and her hopes, and all to which she had

grown united and attached--but it was all she could obtain.

Dinner-time came, and the judge, who was devotedly fond of his wife,

seemed lost in sorrow at the calamity about to befall him; still he

would not yield. Though she caressed him and entreated him to forgive

her, he still said he could not depart from his word, and he would

not allow her to speak of it. They sat down to their silent meal;

and as the time of separation drew nearer he grew more sombre and

sad, and at last determined to console himself with the red wine that

sparkled by his side. Katharina encouraged him to drink, and as his

bottle got exhausted deftly replaced it by a full one, so that he

was quite unconscious of the depth of his potations.

Presently the steward came into the room ready to drive Katharina

to whatever destination she should select, and, as he had heard it

stipulated that she was to take with her whatever she liked best,

proffered his services to assist in the removal--for she had won the

respect and affection of all her dependants, and they delighted to

be occupied for her.

Katharina rose to depart, thanked the man for his attention, and,

in answer to his question as to the object she would take with her,

pointed to her husband, who now lay helpless across his settle,

his head drooping over the table.

The steward could scarcely believe his eyes, but Katharina had a way

of giving orders which did not admit of being questioned. The first

surprise over, too, it struck him as a capital device, and he entered

heartily into the spirit of the scheme. With the help of a couple

of serving-men the judge was deposited safely in the lumbering old

carriage, and Katharina having taken her place beside him, they drove

away by her direction over one of the worst and most uneven roads in

the neighbourhood. The shaking of the vehicle presently awakened the

sleeper, who was, of course, quite at a loss to conceive where he

was, but, perceiving that he cut a rather silly figure, was ashamed

to ask his wife, who sat by his side as if there was nothing amiss,

and said nothing.

At last his curiosity got the better of his self-respect, and he

begged her to tell him what all this trundling and shaking meant.

Katharina in a few words recalled to him his cruel decree, at the

same time reminding him of his promise that she might take with her

what she liked best, and, throwing her arms round him, asked him if

there could be any doubt as to what that could be.

The judge perceived that his wife had once more shown her sense

and judgment, and was not sorry to find she had contrived this

opportunity of making up their difference. On renewing her petition

for forgiveness, he frankly gave her his pardon; and they drove back

home to live together in love and union to the end of their days.

[69] The homestead of a peasant proprietor.

[70] The local name of the holiday cap of the Sarnthaler women.

[71] Lieblingsbänder.

[72] Alp is used in Tirol for the green mountain pastures.

[73] Alpine herdsman.