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“Soup from a Sausage Skewer”
E had such an excellent dinner yesterday，“ said an old mouse of the female sex to another who had not been present at the feast. ”I sat number twenty-one below the mouse-king， which was not a bad place. Shall I tell you what we had？ Everything was first rate. Mouldy bread， tallow candle， and sausage. And then， when we had finished that course， the same came on all over again； it was as good as two feasts. We were very sociable， and there was as much joking and fun as if we had been all of one family circle. Nothing was left but the sausage skewers， and this formed a subject of conversation， till at last it turned to the proverb， 'Soup from sausage skins；' or， as the people in the neighboring country call it， 'Soup from a sausage skewer.' Every one had heard the proverb， but no one had ever tasted the soup， much less prepared it. A capital toast was drunk to the inventor of the soup， and some one said he ought to be made a relieving officer to the poor. Was not that witty？ Then the old mouse-king rose and promised that the young lady-mouse who should learn how best to prepare this much-admired and savory soup should be his queen， and a year and a day should be allowed for the purpose.“
“That was not at all a bad proposal，” said the other mouse； “but how is the soup made？”
“Ah， that is more than I can tell you. All the young lady mice were asking the same question. They wished very much to be queen， but they did not want to take the trouble of going out into the world to learn how to make soup， which was absolutely necessary to be done first. But it is not every one who would care to leave her family， or her happy corner by the fire-side at home， even to be made queen. It is not always easy to find bacon and cheese-rind in foreign lands every day， and it is not pleasant to have to endure hunger， and be perhaps， after all， eaten up alive by the cat.”
Most probably some such thoughts as these discouraged the majority from going out into the world to collect the required information. Only four mice gave notice that they were ready to set out on the journey. They were young and lively， but poor. Each of them wished to visit one of the four divisions of the world， so that it might be seen which was the most favored by fortune. Every one took a sausage skewer as a traveller's staff， and to remind them of the object of their journey. They left home early in May， and none of them returned till the first of May in the following year， and then only three of them. Nothing was seen or heard of the fourth， although the day of decision was close at hand. “Ah， yes， there is always some trouble mixed up with the GREatest pleasure，” said the mouse-king； but he gave orders that all the mice within a circle of many miles should be invited at once. They were to assemble in the kitchen， and the three travelled mice were to stand in a row before them， while a sausage skewer， covered with crape， was to be stuck up instead of the missing mouse. No one dared to express an opinion until the king spoke， and desired one of them to go on with her story. And now we shall hear what she said.
What the First Little Mouse Saw and Heard on Her Travels
HEN I first went out into the world，“ said the little mouse， ”I fancied， as so many of my age do， that I already knew everything， but it was not so. It takes years to acquire GREat knowledge. I went at once to sea in a ship bound for the north. I had been told that the ship's cook must know how to prepare every dish at sea， and it is easy enough to do that with plenty of sides of bacon， and large tubs of salt meat and mouldy flour. There I found plenty of delicate food， but no opportunity for learning how to make soup from a sausage skewer. We sailed on for many days and nights； the ship rocked fearfully， and we did not escape without a wetting. As soon as we arrived at the port to which the ship was bound， I left it， and went on shore at a place far towards the north. It is a wonderful thing to leave your own little corner at home， to hide yourself in a ship where there are sure to be some nice snug corners for shelter， then suddenly to find yourself thousands of miles away in a foreign land. I saw large pathless forests of pine and birch trees， which smelt so strong that I sneezed and thought of sausage. There were great lakes also which looked as black as ink at a distance， but were quite clear when I came close to them. Large swans were floating upon them， and I thought at first they were only foam， they lay so still； but when I saw them walk and fly， I knew what they were directly. They belong to the goose species， one can see that by their walk. No one can attempt to disguise family descent. I kept with my own kind， and associated with the forest and field mice， who， however， knew very little， especially about what I wanted to know， and which had actually made me travel abroad. The idea that soup could be made from a sausage skewer was to them such an out-of-the-way， unlikely thought， that it was repeated from one to another through the whole forest. They declared that the problem would never be solved， that the thing was an impossibility. How little I thought that in this place， on the very first night， I should be initiated into the manner of its preparation.
“It was the height of summer， which the mice told me was the reason that the forest smelt so strong， and that the herbs were so fragrant， and the lakes with the white swimming swans so dark， and yet so clear. On the margin of the wood， near to three or four houses， a pole， as large as the mainmast of a ship， had been erected， and from the summit hung wreaths of flowers and fluttering ribbons； it was the Maypole. Lads and lasses danced round the pole， and tried to outdo the violins of the musicians with their singing. They were as merry as ever at sunset and in the moonlight， but I took no part in the merry-making. What has a little mouse to do with a Maypole dance？ I sat in the soft moss， and held my sausage skewer tight. The moon threw its beams particularly on one spot where stood a tree covered with exceedingly fine moss. I may almost venture to say that it was as fine and soft as the fur of the mouse-king， but it was GREen， which is a color very agreeable to the eye. All at once I saw the most charming little people marching towards me. They did not reach higher than my knee； they looked like human beings， but were better proportioned， and they called themselves elves. Their clothes were very delicate and fine， for they were made of the leaves of flowers， trimmed with the wings of flies and gnats， which had not a bad effect. By their manner， it appeared as if they were seeking for something. I knew not what， till at last one of them espied me and came towards me， and the foremost pointed to my sausage skewer， and said， 'There， that is just what we want； see， it is pointed at the top； is it not capital？' and the longer he looked at my pilgrim's staff， the more delighted he became. 'I will lend it to you，' said I， 'but not to keep.'
“'Oh no， we won't keep it！' they all cried； and then they seized the skewer， which I gave up to them， and danced with it to the spot where the delicate moss GREw， and set it up in the middle of the green. They wanted a maypole， and the one they now had seemed cut out on purpose for them. Then they decorated it so beautifully that it was quite dazzling to look at. Little spiders spun golden threads around it， and then it was hung with fluttering veils and flags so delicately white that they glittered like snow in the moonshine. After that they took colors from the butterfly's wing， and sprinkled them over the white drapery which gleamed as if covered with flowers and diamonds， so that I could not recognize my sausage skewer at all. Such a maypole had never been seen in all the world as this. Then came a great company of real elves. Nothing could be finer than their clothes， and they invited me to be present at the feast； but I was to keep at a certain distance， because I was too large for them. Then commenced such music that it sounded like a thousand glass bells， and was so full and strong that I thought it must be the song of the swans. I fancied also that I heard the voices of the cuckoo and the black-bird， and it seemed at last as if the whole forest sent forth glorious melodies—the voices of children， the tinkling of bells， and the songs of the birds； and all this wonderful melody came from the elfin maypole. My sausage peg was a complete peal of bells. I could scarcely believe that so much could have been produced from it， till I remembered into what hands it had fallen. I was so much affected that I wept tears such as a little mouse can weep， but they were tears of joy. The night was far too short for me； there are no long nights there in summer， as we often have in this part of the world. When the morning dawned， and the gentle breeze rippled the glassy mirror of the forest lake， all the delicate veils and flags fluttered away into thin air； the waving garlands of the spider's web， the hanging bridges and galleries， or whatever else they may be called， vanished away as if they had never been. Six elves brought me back my sausage skewer， and at the same time asked me to make any request， which they would grant if in their power； so I begged them， if they could， to tell me how to make soup from a sausage skewer.
“'How do we make it？' said the chief of the elves with a smile. 'Why you have just seen it； you scarcely knew your sausage skewer again， I am sure.'
“they think themselves very wise， thought I to myself. Then I told them all about it， and why I had travelled so far， and also what promise had been made at home to the one who should discover the method of preparing this soup. 'What use will it be，' I asked， 'to the mouse-king or to our whole mighty kingdom that I have seen all these beautiful things？ I cannot shake the sausage peg and say， Look， here is the skewer， and now the soup will come. That would only produce a dish to be served when people were keeping a fast.'
“then the elf dipped his finger into the cup of a violet， and said to me， 'Look here， I will anoint your pilgrim's staff， so that when you return to your own home and enter the king's castle， you have only to touch the king with your staff， and violets will spring forth and cover the whole of it， even in the coldest winter time； so I think I have given you really something to carry home， and a little more than something.'”
But before the little mouse explained what this something more was， she stretched her staff out to the king， and as it touched him the most beautiful bunch of violets sprang forth and filled the place with perfume. The smell was so powerful that the mouse-king ordered the mice who stood nearest the chimney to thrust their tails into the fire， that there might be a smell of burning， for the perfume of the violets was overpowering， and not the sort of scent that every one liked.
