THE ASS'S SPRING

      In a green valley, shut in by steep heights, a cool, abundant spring, called the Ass's Well, has its source. The spring is inclosed, and covered over with a canopy, on the top of which turns a tin ass as weather vane.
      Every morning in summer there stand by the edge of the well, pale young ladies from the city, who, under the care of anxious mothers and protecting aunts, drink the cold water from handsome mugs. City gentlemen, too, visit the spring, and indeed not only the sickly ones, but also healthy youths with brown faces, and bold-twisted mustaches. A warrior, gray with age, who for thirty years had come and gone with the swallows; a poetical, incomprehensible young ]lady, with long, straw-colored curls; a mysterious widow in deep mourning; a prestigiator, who is especially sought after in rainy weather, and who makes money vanish and guesses drawn cards;— all these characters are to be found at the ass's well, and therefore there is no lack of what belongs to a so-called “summer resort.” But wait! we had almost forgotten the most important feature, the landlady of the Golden Goose. She rules with unlimited power, cooks well, and treats high and low with an honest brusqueness which to the city people is as refreshing as May dew.
      There is great difference of opinion about the origin of the name the well bears. Some say that a thirsty ass disclosed the spring by pawing with his hoofs. Others claim that the well is so called because its waters, like ass's milk, are beneficial to feeble constitutions. But both opinions are at fault. This will become clear as daylight to all who read this story to the end.
      Many, many years ago, when the mightiest tree in the forest was still a germ sleeping in a brown acorn, nothing was known of the healing power of the future Ass's Well. The visitors who came to its brink were the beasts of the forest or grazing cattle, and deer; wood-cutters, huntsmen and charcoal-burners; and men praised the cool water, and the beasts did the same after their own fashion.
      One day two stood by the well,— one on this side, the other on that. He was an ass, and she was a goose, both in the first bloom of youth. They greeted each other silently, and quenched their thirst. Then the ass drew near to the goose, and asked bashfully, “Young lady, may I accompany you?”
      She nodded, and would gladly have blushed, but this she was unable to do, and they went together through the meadow and talked about the weather. They had gone quite a distance, when the ass stood still and asked, “Young lady, whither does your way lead?”
      The goose looked sadly at her companion askance, and said quietly, “How do I know? Oh, I am the most unfortunate creature under the sun!” And as the ass questioned her further, and urged her to pour out her heart, she related the story of her life.
      “I am called Alheid,” said the goose, “and am of good family. My ancestor was one of the sacred geese that saved the capital. You know the story, young gentleman?”
      The ass said hesitatingly, 'Ye-es.” He had really never heard of the Story, but he did not wish to grieve the goose.
      “Another of my maternal ancestors,” continued Alheid, “was on friendly terms with Saint Martin. She is said, according to the sad legend, to have given her life for him. But I will not dwell on the history of my ancestors, but tell you about myself. I came to the light of the world, together with eleven brothers and sisters, and, indeed, on a farm, where my mother as a brooding goose lived a life appropriate to her station. I was my mother's pet, for in our family the youngest child is always the most talented.”
      “Just as it is in ours,” remarked the ass.
      “I will pass over the years of my childhood,” continued the goose, “the happy plays in the village pond and in the lake of the castle garden, where, in the company of the young swans, I acquired that elegance of motion for which I have been so often admired. I had long before shed the yellow down of youth and had blossomed into the prime of life. Then, one day there appeared on the farm a man, who had a very hooked nose; his temples were adorned on the right and on the left with two shiny black curls, and over his shoulder hung a pack. The farmer's wife and the maids flocked around him, and looked with longing eyes at the blight-colored ribbons and cloths which he took out of his bag. To make a long story short, I was caught, and with my feet and wings bound I was given over to the stranger, who took me in exchange for a blue handkerchief decorated with red roses. Now came melancholy days. I was shut up in a narrow coop, and given balls of barley flour to fatten me. With horror I noticed that my circumference increased from day to day, and even my grief over my wretched plight was unable to arrest the evil.”
      Here the ass cast a look at his companion's figure, and swore that he never had seen a more elegant goose. With a look of thankfulness at the ass, Alheid continued:—
      “Last night — I shudder to think of it — I heard woeful cries of agony, which evidently came from the throat of one of my fellow-prisoners. I saw two eyes shine in the moonlight, and heard the death-rattle. A fox or a polecat must have broken into the coop. Fear lent me strength. I forced myself through the bars of my prison and escaped. I was saved. My wings bore me to this valley; and now I shall try to prolong my life as a wild goose, until winter comes, when I shall, perhaps, find a modest position as snow goose.”
      Alheid sighed deeply, and then was silent.
      “My fate,” said the ass, “is similar to yours, Miss Alheid. Look at the black cross which decorates my shoulder; that will tell you all. I am of the race of the sacred ass of Jerusalem, and Baldwin is my name. My pedigree goes back to Noah's ark. Balaam's ass, and the ass with whose jawbone Samson slew two thousand Philistines are my ancestors. The one of my ancestors who died like a philosopher between two bundles of hay, I will only mention incidently; nor will I dwell on the worthiest of my high-aspiring forefathers, who founded the collateral branch of mules. My parents were convent people, and bore pious monks on their errands of charity. My older brothers and sisters became lay brethren; but the fathers sold me to the convent miller, and I, a sacred ass, saw myself compelled by rough men to carry contemptible meal sacks. For a long time I suffered in silent submission. But one night, when the cruelty of a rough miller's boy drove me to desperation, I burst my fetters, and came to this peaceful forest valley, where I found you by the cool well, most charming Alheid. Here I think I shall remain for the present, and lead the contemplative life of a wild ass.”
      So the ass and the goose both remained in the meadow valley. They dwelt apart from each other, as it became them, but they saw each other and talked together daily, and at last one could no longer live without the other. They were happy and sad at the same time; happy, because they loved and found love in return; sad, because they saw that they could never belong to one another.
      “Oh! why was I born a goose!” bewailed Alheid; and Baldwin, the ass, sighed, “If I were a bird!” and he knew, too, what kind of a bird he would be.
      Thus weeks passed by. The ass grew perceptibly thin, although there was no lack of nourishing food in the meadow valley; and the goose lost the red color from her bill, and her eyes became dull.
      Now, there lived in the forest, in a hollow stone, an owl, who was the most clever female anywhere about, and the beasts often went to her for advice. The ass told her his distress, and when the owl had heard his story, she said: “ That I cannot help. But wait till Midsummer. Then the wise Wish-Lady comes to the well in the meadow valley to bathe. Confide to her your trouble. Perhaps she will help you, and change your form; she is a powerful magician.''
      Then the ass went away half consoled. On Midsummer eve, when Alheid, the goose, had sought her resting-place, he concealed himself near the spring to wait for the Wish-Lady.
      She did not keep him waiting long. She came flying along in her dress of swan's feathers, threw aside the downy garment, and bathed her white limbs in the cool spring. The ass waited with an ass's patience until she came out of the water; and when she had sat down on a stone and was combing her hair, then Baldwin stepped up to her, beat his fore-hoof three times as a greeting, and begged the Wish-Lady, piteously, to change him to a gander.
      The enchantress shook her head. “That is a strange wish,” she thought, “but I can fulfill it and I will.
      And she whispered in the ear of the ass, who listened attentively: “Early to-morrow morning, at sunrise, pick seven goose-berry blossoms [1] and eat them silently, then plunge your head in the well, and you will be changed to a fine gander. And now go your way, and leave me alone.”
      //[1] In the German ganse-blume (literally goose-flower), the ox-eyed daisy.//
      The ass thanked her heartily, and went away. He never closed his eyes all night, and as soon as the mountain-tops began to grow red, he was up on his feet and away to look for the seven goose-berry blossoms. Then he hurried to the spring, and plunged his head in, and when he drew it out again, to his delight, he saw in the mirror of the water the picture of a handsome gander with a beautifully curved neck.
      As fast as he could go, he hurried to the thicket where the goose had taken up her abode. “Alheid, my beloved Alheid!” he cried, “where art thou ?”
      “Here, my dearest, sounded from the thicket, and a pretty little she-ass came dancing out of the bushes.
      The lovers looked at each other, dumb with amazement.
      “Oh, what an ass I am!” sighed the gander.
      “Oh, what a goose I am!” groaned the ass.
      Then a hot torrent of tears poured from their eyes; and in the midst of her weeping Alheid told how she had followed the advice of the owl, and sought the Wish-Lady, who had granted her request, and changed her to a jenny. Hereupon the gander, between heavy sobs, gave his experience, and the Midsummer sun never shone on two more wretched creatures than our two lovers.
      Time heals all things. Calm endurance took the place of uncontrollable anguish. One hope was left to the pair. Perhaps the Wish-Lady, on her next visit to the spring, would restore one of the lovers to the original form. But before that a whole year must pass. Patience, then, patience! So Baldwin and Alheid again lived together like brother and sister.
      After much distress and danger, which the winter brought to the two anchorites, spring appeared in the land; the sun mounted higher and higher, and at last Midsummer eve had come.
      With beating hearts the lovers this time went together to the well, and stated their case to the Wish-Lady.
      “This is a bad affair,” said the enchantress. “I cannot change either of you back again, however willing I may be to grant you the favor. But I will make you a proposition. How would it do if you became human beings? Out of an ass and a goose it would not be difficult to make a youth and a maiden: that I can do. Would that please you ?”
      “Yes,” cried Baldwin and Alheid with one voice.
      The Wish-Lady murmured a charm, and told them both to plunge their heads in the well. They obeyed, and when they took them out again Baldwin had became a sturdy young man with an extremely good-natured face, and opposite him stood a charming little woman with a prettily arched, rosy mouth, and languishing eyes.
      And they fell down at the Wish-Lady's feet and gratefully kissed her hands, and then they kissed each others' lips and whispered words of love in each others' ears. But the Wish-Lady, noticing that her presence was superfluous, wrapped herself in her dress of feathers and flew away.
      The two young people remained in the meadow valley. Baldwin built a house, and in it they passed a happy life; and each year a little child was given them, sometimes a boy and sometimes a girl.
      In the neighboring villages nobody suspected that Baldwin had been an ass, and Alheid a goose, for they were as sensible as other human beings. They did not make a great noise about the history of their transformation, as it would have prejudiced them in the eyes of the people. But when they were about to die they intrusted it as a secret to their eldest son, and it was he who named the house “The Golden Goose,” and the spring “The Ass's Well,” as they are still called at the present day.
      How the healing power of the waters was discovered, and how life gradually came to the remote forest valley, are very fully described in a book which the landlady sells to the guests who use the waters.
      The Wish-Lady has for a long time stayed away, probably because it is too noisy for her in the valley. But even at the present time it happens that almost every year some young pair is seen at the spring, who seem as well adapted to each other as the heroes of our story.