objections were
raised to so cruel a decision, but these were at length overruled. The
victim heard the dreadful sentence without a tremor, and when asked if
he had any boon to crave ere it were carried out, he answered quietly
that he would like to make a few final improvements in his clock, and
wished to suffer his punishment in its presence.

Accordingly when the day came the old man was conducted to the place
where his masterpiece stood. There, under pretence of making the
promised improvements, he damaged the works, after which he submitted
himself to his torturers. Hardly had they carried out their cruel task
when, to the consternation of the onlookers, the clock began to emit
discordant sounds and to whirr loudly. When it had continued thus for a
while the gong struck thirteen and the mechanism came to a standstill.

"Behold my handiwork!" cried the blind clockmaker. "Behold my revenge!"

His assistant approached and led him gently away. Henceforward he lived
happily with Guta and her husband, whose affectionate care compensated
in part for the loss of his eyesight and his enforced inability
to practise his beloved art. When the story became known the base
magistrate was deprived of his wealth and his office and forced to quit
the town.

And as for the clock, it remained in its disordered state till 1843,
when it was once more restored to its original condition.

The Trumpeter of Saeckingen

A beautiful and romantic tale which has inspired more than one work of
art is the legend of the Trumpeter of Saeckingen; it shares with "The
Lorelei" and a few other legends the distinction of being the most
widely popular in Rhenish folklore.

One evening in early spring, so the legend runs, a gallant young soldier
emerged from the Black Forest opposite Saeckingen and reined in his steed
on the banks of the Rhine. Night was at hand, and the snow lay thickly
on the ground. For a few moments the wayfarer pondered whither he should
turn for food and shelter, for his steed and the trumpet he carried
under his cavalry cloak were all he possessed in the world; then with
a reckless gesture he seized the trumpet and sounded some lively notes
which echoed merrily over the snow.

The parish priest, toiling painfully up the hill, heard the martial
sound, and soon encountered the soldier, who saluted him gravely. The
priest paused to return the greeting, and entering into conversation
with the horseman, he learned that he was