THE SHOES OF FORTUNE

THE SHOES OF FORTUNE,标签：剑桥少儿英语故事,少儿英语小故事,http://www.xuehuiba.com

    *This relates to a book published some years ago in Germany， and said to be by Herschel， which contained a description of the moon and its inhabitants， written with such a semblance of truth that many were deceived by the imposture.

    Probably a translation of the celebrated Moon hoax， written by Richard A. Locke， and originally published in New York.

    They had a language too； but surely nobody can expect that the soul of the watchman should understand it. Be that as it may， it did comprehend it； for in our souls there germinate far greater powers than we poor mortals， despite all our cleverness， have any notion of. Does she not show us——she the queen in the land of enchantment——her astounding dramatic talent in all our dreams？ There every acquaintance appears and speaks upon the stage， so entirely in character， and with the same tone of voice， that none of us， when awake， were able to imitate it. How well can she recall persons to our mind， of whom we have not thought for years； when suddenly they step forth "every inch a man，" resembling the real personages， even to the finest features， and become the heroes or heroines of our world of dreams. In reality， such remembrances are rather unpleasant： every sin， every evil thought， may， like a clock with alarm or chimes， be repeated at pleasure； then the question is if we can trust ourselves to give an account of every unbecoming word in our heart and on our lips.

    The watchman's spirit understood the language of the inhabitants of the moon pretty well. The Selenites* disputed variously about our earth， and expressed their doubts if it could be inhabited： the air， they said， must certainly be too dense to allow any rational dweller in the moon the necessary free respiration. They considered the moon alone to be inhabited： they imagined it was the real heart of the universe or planetary system， on which the genuine Cosmopolites， or citizens of the world， dwelt. What strange things men——no， what strange things Selenites sometimes take into their heads！

    *Dwellers in the moon.

    About politics they had a good deal to say. But little Denmark must take care what it is about， and not run counter to the moon； that great realm， that might in an ill-humor bestir itself， and dash down a hail-storm in our faces， or force the Baltic to overflow the sides of its gigantic basin.

    We will， therefore， not listen to what was spoken， and on no condition run in the possibility of telling tales out of school； but we will rather proceed， like good quiet citizens， to East Street， and observe what happened meanwhile to the body of the watchman.

    He sat lifeless on the steps： the morning-star，* that is to say， the heavy wooden staff， headed with iron spikes， and which had nothing else in common with its sparkling brother in the sky， had glided from his hand； while his eyes were fixed with glassy stare on the moon， looking for the good old fellow of a spirit which still haunted it.

    *The watchmen in Germany， had formerly， and in some places they still carry with them， on their rounds at night， a sort of mace or club， known in ancient times by the above denomination.

    "What's the hour， watchman？" asked a passer-by. But when the watchman gave no reply， the merry roysterer， who was now returning home from a noisy drinking bout， took it into his bead to try what a tweak of the nose would do， on which the supposed sleeper lost his balance， the body lay motionless， stretched out on the pavement： the man was dead. When the patrol came up， all his comrades， who comprehended nothing of the whole affair， were seized with a dreadful fright， for dead be was， and he remained so. The proper authorities were informed of the circumstance， people talked a good deal about it， and in the morning the body was carried to the hospital.

    Now that would be a very pretty joke， if the spirit when it came back and looked for the body in East Street， were not to find one. No doubt it would， in its anxiety， run off to the police， and then to the "Hue and Cry" office， to announce that "the finder will be handsomely rewarded，" and at last away to the hospital； yet we may boldly assert that the soul is shrewdest when it shakes off every fetter， and every sort of leading-string——the body only makes it stupid.

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