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The Hirsch-Gulden
by
When, on the following morning, his mother reproached him with having trifled away the estate and jewels, he rode over to Schalksberg and said to his brother:
“Shall we gamble with our inheritance, or drink it up?”
“Let’s drink it away,” replied Schalk; “then we shall both have won. We will ride down to Balingen and let the people see our disdain, even if we have lost the village in a most outrageous manner.”
“And at ‘The Lamb’ tavern they have as good red wine as any the emperor drinks,” added Wolf.
So they rode down together to “The Lamb,” and inquired the cost of a quart of this red wine, and drank the worth of the gulden. Then Wolf got up, took from his purse the silver coin with the leaping stag stamped on it, threw it down on the table, and said:
“There’s your gulden, that will make it right.”
But the landlord picked up the gulden, looked at it first on one side and then on the other, and said smilingly:
“Yes, if it was any thing but a hirsch-gulden; but last night the messenger came from Stuttgart, and early this morning it was proclaimed in the name of the Count of Wuertemberg, to whom this town now belongs, that these coins would be no longer current; so give me some other money.”
The brothers looked at one another in dismay. “Pay up,” said one. “Haven’t you got any change?” replied the other; and, in short, they were obliged to remain in debt to “The Lamb” for a gulden.
They started back “home without speaking to one another until they came to the cross-road, where the road to the right ran to Zollern and the one to the left to Schalksberg. Then Schalk said:
“How now? We have inherited less than nothing; and moreover, the wine was miserable.”
“Yes, to be sure,” replied his brother, “but what Frau Feldheimerin said, has come to pass: ‘We shall see what part of your inheritance is worth a hirsch-gulden.’ And now we were not able to pay for even a measure of wine with it.”
“Know it already!” answered he of Schalksberg.
“Stupid stuff!” returned the Count of Zollern, as he rode off moodily, towards his castle.
“That is the Legend of the Hirsch-Gulden,” concluded the compass-maker, “and said to be a true one. The landlord at Duerrwangen, which is situated near the three castles, related it to one of my best friends, who often acted as guide through the Suabian Alps, and always put up at Duerrwangen.”
The guests applauded the compass-maker’s story. “What curious things one hears in the world!” exclaimed the wagoner. “Really, I feel glad now that we did not spoil the time with cards; this is much better, and so interested was I in the story, that I can tell it to-morrow to my comrades without missing a single word of it.”
“While you were telling your story, something came into my mind,” said the student.
“Oh, tell it, tell it!” pleaded the compass-maker and Felix.
“Very well,” replied he, “it makes no difference whether my turn comes now or later. Still, what I tell you must be considered in confidence, for the incidents are reported to have really occurred.”
He changed his position to a more comfortable one, and was just about to begin his story, when the landlady put away her distaff and went up to her guests at the table. “It is time now, gentlemen, to go to bed,” said she. “It has struck nine, and to-morrow will be another day.”
“Well, go to bed then,” said the student. “Set another bottle of wine on the table for us, and we won’t keep you up any longer.”
“By no means,” returned she, fretfully; “so long as guests remain in the public-room, it is not possible for the landlady and servants to retire. And once for all, gentlemen, I must request you to go to your rooms; the time hangs heavy on me, and there shall be no carousing in my house after nine o’clock.”