confiding in its aid, leaped into the air, the trusty staff snapped in twain, and its master was precipitated into the brook in a very rough and unpleasant manner.
He arose with heavy sighs, but seemed, in truth, much less grieved on account of his bruises than for the loss of his staff. “How shall I ever get down that precipitous bank,” he exclaimed in a piteous tone, “when thus forsaken by mine ancient faithful staff—my friend and support!”
“What ails you?” suddenly inquired a hollow rough voice close behind. The wanderer turned round, and not without alarm beheld a large gloomy-looking figure wrapped up in a cloak, treading close upon his heels; but recovering his composure, he told the mysterious stranger of the evil which had befallen him, and renewed his lamentations for his beloved staff.
“What are you moaning about?” interrupted the stranger, “as if there were no more trees on the mountain able to furnish you with such another stick! There, take mine,” continued he; and, presenting the traveller with another staff, the stranger disappeared.
The wanderer having reached the extreme skirts of the brushwood which covered these parts, again beheld the tall figure, striding with gigantic steps among the bushes, and seeming to dilate in size with the increasing distance. At last, after having vanished several times, and reappeared again, it melted into thin mist and gradually dissolved away. Meanwhile he himself trudged on in good spirits, mightily comforted by the gift he had received. But ere long his new staff became very troublesome to him. However carefully he set it down on the ground, it was always sure to slip from under his hand when he came to rest upon it; and at other times it slid in between the interstices of the stones in such a manner as to require pretty strong efforts, on the part of its master, to extricate it again. In addition to these serious inconveniences, the staff grew momentarily more and more heavy; till at last the poor wanderer seemed to forget that it
