"This must be my last day upon the mountain top," he said. "The little
strength which is left me I must devote to the culture of fruit and
flowers in the valley, and no longer spend it in climbing up and down
these hills, whose tops rest their peaks in the fleecy clouds. I have
enjoyed many years of repose and grandeur, and must devote the remainder
of my life to helping the people in the valley."
At sunset the old man descended, with staff in hand, and went slowly down
the mountain side. Such lovely blossoms, pink, golden, and scarlet, met
his eye as he gazed on the gardens of the laborers, that he involuntarily
exclaimed, "I fear I have spent my days not wisely on yonder mountain
top, taking at least a third of my time in climbing up and down. Richer
flowers grow here in the valley; the air is softer, and the grass like
velvet to the tread. I'll see if there is a vacant cottage for me."
Saying this, he accosted a laborer who was just returning from his
toil: "Good man, do you know of any cottage near which I can rent?"
"Why! you are the old man from the mountain," exclaimed the astonished
person addressed.
"I am coming to the valley to live. I am now seeking a shelter."
"Yonder," answered the man, "is a cottage just vacated by a man and
wife. Would that suit you?"
"Anything that will shelter me will suit," was the answer. "Dost thou
know who owns the house?"
"Von Nellser, the gardener.
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