be the seed of a fortune; that he should
flourish far beyond the scale of old Strauss; should drive his
antagonist, in utter despair, from the ground; and should, in short,
arrive eventually at no less a dignity than--Buergermeister of Rapps!

Hans was, as I believe I have said, soon set up with the smallest spice
of encouragement. He was, moreover, as light and nimble as a
grasshopper, and, in his whole appearance, much such an animal, could it
be made to stand on end. His dream, therefore, was enough. He vowed a
vow of unconquerable might, and to it he went. Springing upon his board,
he hummed a tune gayly:

There came the Hippopotamus,
A sort of river-bottom-horse,
Sneezing, snorting, blowing water
From his nostrils, and around him
Grazing up the grass--confound him!
Every mouthful a huge slaughter!

Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly,
From his muzzle must away fly,
Or he swallowed them by legions,
His huge foot, it was a pillar;
When he drank, it was a swiller!
Soon a desert were those regions.

But the grasshoppers so gallant
Called to arms each nimble callant,
With their wings, and stings, and nippers,
Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful;
Gave the villain such a jawful,
That he slipped away in slippers!

"Ha! ha!--slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!" cried Hans,
and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did
him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of
it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was
done. He wanted little--a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough
for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when,
returning one evening from carrying out some work--behold! his door was
open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was
off! The money was gone!

This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even
fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite--the
Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans's
door? But no matter--the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he
got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. "Ay," said
they, "this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by
yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man
like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like