ART OF STONE.

The Black Forest, from time out of mind, has abounded with stories
of phantoms, demons, genii, and fairies. The dark hue of the hills,
the shadowy and mysterious recesses, the lonely ways, the beautiful
glens, all tend to suggest the legends that are associated with
every mountain, valley, and town. The old legends have filled
volumes. One of the most popular of recent stories of the Black
Forest is the "Marble Heart; or, the Stone-cold Heart," by Hauff.

Wilhelm Hauff, a writer of wonderful precocity, genius, and
invention, was born at Stuttgart in 1809. He was designed for the
theological profession, and entered the University of Tuebingen in
1820. He had a taste for popular legends, and published many
allegorical works. He died before he had completed his twenty-sixth
year.

There once lived a widow in the Black Forest, whose name was Frau
Barbara Munk. She had a boy, sixteen years old, named Peter, who was
put to the trade of charcoal-burner, a common occupation in the
Black Forest.

Now a charcoal-burner has much time for reflection; and as Peter sat
at his stack, with the dark trees around him, he began to cherish a
longing to become rich and powerful.

"A black, lonely charcoal-burner," he said to himself, "leads a
wretched life. How much more respected are the glass-blowers, the
clock-makers, and the musicians!"

The raftsmen of the forest, too, excited his envy. They passed like
giants through the towns, with their silver buckles, consequential
looks, and clay pipes, often a yard long. There were three of these
timber-dealers that he particularly admired. One of them, called
"Fat Hesekiel," seemed like a mint of gold, so freely did he use his
money at the gaming-tables at the tavern. The second, called "Stout
Schlurker," was both rich and dictatorial; and the third was a
famous dancer.

These traders were from Holland. Peter Munk, the young coal-burner,
used to think of them and their good fortune, when sitting alone in
the pine forests. The Black Foresters were people rich in generous
character and right principle, but very poor in purse. Peter began
to look upon them and their homely occupations with contempt.

"This will do no longer," said Peter, one day. "I must thrive or
die. Oh, that I were as much regarded as rich Hesekiel or powerful
Schlurker, or even as the King of the Dancers! I wonder where they