THE
ORIENTAL
STORY BOOK.
A COLLECTION OF TALES.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF
WILHELM HAUFF,
BY G. P. QUACKENBOS.
ILLUSTRATED BY J. W. ORR.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
346 & 348 BROADWAY.
1855.
OF NEW ORLEANS
IN REMEMBRANCE OF A LONG FRIENDSHIP,
AND MANY HAPPY HOURS SPENT WITH HIM OVER THE
GERMAN CLASSICS,
THIS LITTLE VOLUME
IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
THE CARAVAN.
INTRODUCTION.
IN a beautiful distant kingdom,of which there is a saying,that the sun on its everlastinggreen gardens never goes down,ruled, from the beginning oftime even to the present day,Queen Phantasie. With full hands, she usedto distribute for many hundred years, the abundanceof her blessings among her subjects,and was beloved and respected by all whoknew her. The heart of the Queen, however,was too great to allow her to stop ather own land with her charities; she herself,in the royal attire of her everlasting youthand beauty, descended upon the earth; forshe had heard that there men lived, whopassed their lives in sorrowful seriousness, inthe midst of care and toil. Unto these shehad sent the finest gifts out of her kingdom,and ever since the beauteous Queen came[Pg 8]through the fields of earth, men were merryat their labor, and happy in their seriousness.
Her children, moreover, not less fair andlovely than their royal mother, she had sentforth to bring happiness to men. One dayMärchen[A], the eldest daughter of the Queen,came back in haste from the earth. Themother observed that Märchen was sorrowful;yes, at times it would seem to her as if hereyes would be consumed by weeping.
“What is the matter with thee, belovedMärchen?” said the Queen to her. “Eversince thy journey, thou art so sorrowful anddejected; wilt thou not confide to thy motherwhat ails thee?”
“Ah! dear mother,” answered Märchen,“I would have kept silence, had I not knownthat my sorrow is thine also.”
“Speak, my daughter!” entreated the fairQueen. “Grief is a stone, which pressesdown him who bears it alone, but two drawit lightly out of the way.”
“Thou wishest it,” rejoined Märchen, “so[Pg 9]listen. Thou knowest how gladly I associatewith men, how cheerfully I sit down beforethe huts of the poor, to while away a littlehour for them after their labor; formerly,when I came, they used to ask me kindly formy hand to salute, and looked upon me afterwards,when I went away, smiling and contented;but in these days, it is so no longer!”
“Poor Märchen!” said the Queen as shecaressed her cheek, which was wet with atear. “But, perhaps, thou only fanciest allthis.”
“Believe me, I feel it but too well,” rejoinedMärchen; “they lov