The Quest

"We coatless wand'rers without land, —
We are poor customers.
He who more dollars has than wits, —
'Tis he may loll around.
Tho' high we jump, or low we jump
We're bound to lose the game.
With empty stomachs we must dance, —
Our Ruler is the dollar.

"In olden times the King was boss,
To rack us for our sins;
But now he's only a figure-head,
And has his own boss found.
Whoever crown, or scepter bears,
And gorgeous raiment wears, —
Tho' he jump high, or jump less high,
He's ruled by the dollar.

"Before his men the General stands
And tells 'em how to kill.
The dapper heroes – one and all —
Make haste to do his will.
Yet, in his 'broidered uniform,
The dickens! what commands he?
Tho' he jump high or jump less high
Th' Commander is – The Dollar.

"Where lies our land? where spreads our roof?
We live by favor, only.
To them who have but pelf in pocket
We show our arts and tricks.
But if at last we come to grief
There yet is something for us, —
The fill of our mouths, a tasteful cover,
And a nook that's all our own."

When the last word of the song had died away, the husky voice cried: "You might as well say, while you are about it, that the churchyards are emptied out every tenth year."

"Every twentieth!" cried another.

"Children," said Markus, setting his instrument upon the ground between his feet, "children, now listen to me. We have been singing of money, and of those who had more money than sense; but have you more sense than money? What is it you have that is better than either?"

"Only give me the money," cried the husky voice.

"And me!" cried the other.

"I would sooner give money to the monkey, who would throw it into the water, and not get tipsy with it," said Markus.

"Children," he continued, and gradually Johannes heard that deep ring in his voice, which riveted attention and caused an inner thrill, "where there is gold without sense, there will be misery; and where there is sense, there will be prosperity. For wisdom will not lack for gold.

"You truly are poor wretches – ill-treated and deceived.

"But nobody receives what is not his due. So do not rage and curse about it.

"He who is wise is strong, and cannot be ill-treated. The wise one cannot be deceived. The wise one is good, and neither steals nor lets himself be stolen from.

"You are weak and foolish; therefore you are deceived.

"But you cannot help it, poor children. I know it well; for the children suffer because of what parents and grandparents have done.

"But yet nobody receives what he does not deserve.

"We suffer for our parents and grandparents. Do not call that unjust. The wise ones love their parents, and will redeem their wrong-doing.

"And we can all make amends for what our parents did amiss. Yes, we can make amends to our parents – even now that they are dead.

"The grave is not a snare, children, for catching soul-birds. Father and mother are living still, and are benefited through our efforts.

"Make your little ones good, then, for you will have need of them. Yes, those who die like the dumb beasts – like the harlots and drunkards – even they will find good children most needful.

"And no one can complain who fails of the expiation of the good children, nor is there any one who with their help cannot grow wiser.

"If two travelers, wandering at night in the cold – the one having wood, the other matches – do not understand each other, both will suffer and be lost in the dark.

"And if two shipwrecked people have between them a single cocoanut, and one takes the milk and the other the meat, then they both will perish – one from hunger, the other from thirst.

"So, also, with wisdom; and no one lives upon the earth who can be wise alone."

Markus' voice rang loud and clear, and it was as still as death in the sultry field, among those ragged people. For a time he was silent, and Johannes was so moved he was softly weeping; although he by no means accurately understood the meaning of the discourse.

Finally, the husky voice sounded again, but now more gently:

"I'll be darned if I can make head or tail of it; but I take it for truth."

"Children," said Markus, "you are not bound to understand, and you are not bound to believe me; but will you, for my sake, remember it, word for word, and teach it to your children? Then I will be grateful to you."

Softly rang the voices here and there: "Yes – yes, indeed!"

"Will you not play some more?" asked a young girl with large, dark eyes.

"Yes, I will play, and then you can dance," said Markus, nodding kindly.

Then he took a violin from one of the musicians and began to play for the dancing – such fine music that the promenaders upon the street along the canal stood still, and remained to listen. A magistrate, who often played piano and violin duets with his friend the notary, remarked that there must be a veritable Zigeuner among the Fair-folk, since he only could play in such a manner.

Then, forming a large circle, the people began to dance. The men, holding the maidens with stiff right arms under the armpits, whirled them around in an awkward, woodeny way. They kept it up until the perspiration streamed from their red, earnest faces. The children and their parents sat around. Occasionally, also, songs were sung. There was a good deal of laughing, and they all enjoyed themselves greatly.

In the midst of their jollity, two breathless children came running in. The larger was a little girl of eight years, with a dirty little cherub-face, haloed with flaxen ringlets. She had on an old pair of boy's trousers, held up by suspenders, and falling quite down to her little bare feet, so that in running so fast she nearly tripped in them. "The cops!" cried the child, panting, and the little one cried after her: "The cops!"

Johannes scarcely comprehended the full import of this word; but it had the effect upon the group which the appearance of a hawk in the upper air has upon a flock of tomtits, or of sparrows.