Page:The fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen (c1899).djvu/262

 She did not understand what he meant, but handed him the paper. It was a woodcut, representing a meteor that had been seen in the town of Cologne.

"This is very old," said the councillor, brightening up at the sight of this piece of antiquity. "How did you come by this singular sheet? It is extremely interesting, although the whole is but a fiction. Such phenomena are now accounted for as being a kind of aurora borealis; and they probably arise from electricity."

Those who sat near him, and heard what he said, looked at him in great astonishment, and one of them rose, and doffed his hat respectfully, saying, with a serious face: "You must certainly be a most learned man, monsieur."

"Oh, by no means," returned the councillor; "I can only discuss those topics that everybody must know something about."

"Modestia is a great virtue," said the stranger; "moreover, I may add to your speech, mihi secus videtur; though, in this case, I willingly suspend my judicium."

"May I ask whom I have the pleasure of addressing?" returned the councillor.

"I am a Baccalaureus Scripturæ Sacræ" said the man.

This answer satisfied the councillor; for in this case the title agreed with the dress. "This is surely," thought he, "some old village schoolmaster—one of those odd fellows one still meets with occasionally in Jutland."

"This is no locus docendi," observed the stranger; "yet, I wish you would favour us with your conversation. You are assuredly deeply versed in antiquarian lore."

"Why, yes," replied the councillor of justice; "I like to read all useful old writings: but I like the modern ones as well, with the exception of the 'Domestic Tales,' of which we really have a surfeit."

"'Domestic tales'?" inquired our baccalaureus.

"Yes; I allude to the new novels that come out."

"And yet," said the bookworm, smiling, "they are very witty, and are read at court. The king is especially fond of the romance of Sir Iwain and Sir Gawain, which treats of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. He joked about it with the gentlemen of his court."

"Well, I have not read that," said the councillor; "it must be quite a new one, published by Heiberg."

"No," said the other, "not by Heiberg, but by Godfred von Gehmen."

"Oh, is that the publisher?" said the councillor. "That's a very old name. Why, the first printer and publisher in Denmark was called the same."

"Yes, he is our first printer," said the man.

So far, so good; then one of the citizens spoke of the plague that raged a few years previous, meaning 1484. The councillor thought it was the cholera that was alluded to; and so the conversation got on. The buccaneers' war of 1490 was so recent that it could not fail to be touched upon. The English buccaneers had captured ships in the road, and the councillor being versed in the events of 1801, quite agreed with them in blaming the English. The rest of the conversation, however, did not turn out so well, and was continually assuming the tone of a funeral oration. The good baccalaureus was too ignorant for him not to consider the simplest observations of the councillor as both bold and fantastical. They stared at each other, and when they could not get on at all, the baccalaureus spoke Latin, in hopes of being better understood; but it was of no use.