Master Flea

Once upon a time⁠—But what author will venture to begin his tale so nowadays? Obsolete! tedious! Such is the cry of the gentle, or rather ungentle reader, who wishes to be plunged at once, in medias res, according to the wise advice of the old Roman poet. He feels as if some long-winded talker of a guest, who had just entered, was spreading himself out, and clearing his voice to begin an endless discourse, and he angrily closes the book which he had but just opened. The present editor, indeed, of the wonderful tale of Master Flea, thinks this beginning a very good beginning, not to say the best for every history, on which account the most excellent storytellers that are, namely, nurses, old women, etc. have at all times made use of it, but as every author writes chiefly to be read, he⁠—that is, the aforesaid editor⁠—will not at any rate deprive the kind reader of the pleasure of actually being his reader. He tells him therefore at once, without more circumlocution, that this same Peregrine Tyss, of whose strange adventures this history is to treat, had never, on any Christmas evening, felt his heart so throb with anxious joyful expectation, as precisely on that with which begins the narration of his adventures.

Peregrine was in a dark chamber, next to the showroom in which he was wont to receive his Christmas box. There he crept gently up and down, listened a little at the door, and then seated himself quietly in a corner, and with shut eyes inhaled the mystic odours of the marzipan and gingerbread which streamed from the sanctuary.

Worshipful Mr. Tyss, however, would not let him finish, but calling out, “Children! Children! Alert! Christmas sends his presents!” he took possession of the flap-table in the middle of the room, and immediately began to pull out his presents from the basket. (The great Christmas tree, indeed, which was dripping wet, he had been forced to leave outside the door.) Still the bookbinder could not comprehend what it all meant. The wife, however, knew better, for she smiled at Peregrine, with silent tears, while the children stood at a distance, devouring with their eyes each gift as it came out of the cover, and often unable to refrain from a loud cry of joy and wonder. At last he had dexterously divided, and ordered the presents according to each child’s age, lighted all the tapers, and cried, “Come, come, children! this is what Christmas sends you.” They, who could yet hardly believe that all belonged to them, now shouted aloud, and leaped, and rejoiced, while their parents prepared to thank their benefactor. But it was precisely this thanksgiving that Peregrine always sought to avoid, and he therefore wished, as usual, to take himself off quietly. With this view he had got to the door, when it suddenly opened, and in the bright shine of the Christmas lights stood before him a young female, splendidly attired.

As already mentioned, the creature was scarcely a span long. In his bird-shaped head gleamed a pair of round sparkling eyes, and from his sparrow beak protruded a long sharp thing like a rapier, while two horns came out from the forehead close below the beak. The neck began close under the head also, in the manner of a bird, but grew thicker and thicker, so that without any interruption the former grew to a shapeless body, almost like a hazelnut, and seemed covered with dark-brown scales like the armadillo. But the strangest part was the formation of the arms and legs; the two former had joints, and were rooted in the creature’s cheeks, close by the beak; immediately under these arms was a pair of legs, and still farther on another pair, both double-jointed like the arms. These last feet appeared to be those on which the creature really relied, for besides that they were longer and stronger than the others, he wore upon them very handsome golden boots with diamond spurs.

The little monster having so completely vanished upon Peregrine’s attempt to seize it, he would have taken the whole for an illusion of his excited fancy, if directly afterwards a thin voice had not been audible, exclaiming:

“Good heavens! Mr. Peregine Tyss! have I really been mistaken in you? Yesterday you acted so nobly towards me, and now that I want to show my gratitude, you grasp at me with a murderous hand!

Two well-dressed girls now crossed him. They were sisters, distantly related to him.

“Ah, cousin!” cried one of them, laughing, “do we meet you at last? It is not well done to lock yourself up so that one can never get a sight of you. You do not know how fond mamma is of you, because you are such a sensible man. Promise me to come soon. There, kiss my hand.” The thoughts ran thus: “How! what is this? what has come to our cousin? I wanted to make him blush and stammer, and formerly he used to run away from every girl, but now he stands and eyes me so strangely, and kisses my hand without the least shyness. If he should be in love with me? That would be a fine thing! My mother says that he is somewhat stupid, but what does that signify? I will have him: a stupid man, when he is rich as my cousin is, is the very best.” The sister had merely lisped, with downcast eyes and blushing cheeks, “Come to us shortly, dear cousin.” The thoughts ran thus: “Our cousin is a very handsome man, and I do not understand why mamma calls him silly, and can’t endure him. If he should come to our house, he will fall in love with me, for I am the prettiest girl in all Frankfurt. I will have him, because I want a rich man, that I may sleep till twelve o’clock in the day, and wear dearer shawls than my sister.”

A physician, in passing, perceived Peregrine, stopped his carriage, and called out, “Good morning, my dear sir: you look uncommonly well; heaven keep you so!