HERE is a street in Copenhagen with a very strangename. It is called “Hysken” street. Where the namecame from， and what it means is very uncertain. Itis said to be German， but that is unjust to theGermans， for it would then be called “Hauschen，”not “Hysken.” “Hauschen，” means a little house;and for many years it consisted only of a few smallhouses， which were scarcely larger than the woodenbooths we see in the market-places at fair time. Theywere perhaps a little higher， and had windows; butthe panes consisted of horn or bladder-skins， forglass was then too dear to have glazed windows in every house. This was a long time ago， solong indeed that our grandfathers， and even GREat-grandfathers， would speak of those daysas “olden times;” indeed， many centuries have passed since then.
the rich merchants in Bremen and Lubeck， who carried on trade in Copenhagen， did notreside in the town themselves， but sent their clerks， who dwelt in the wooden booths in theHauschen street， and sold beer and spices. The German beer was very good， and there weremany sorts—from Bremen， Prussia， and Brunswick—and quantities of all sorts of spices，saffron， aniseed， ginger， and especially pepper; indeed， pepper was almost the chiefarticle sold here; so it happened at last that the German clerks in Denmark got their nicknameof “pepper gentry.” It had been made a condition with these clerks that they should not marry;so that those who lived to be old had to take care of themselves， to attend to their owncomforts， and even to light their own fires， when they had any to light. Many of them werevery aged; lonely old boys， with strange thoughts and eccentric habits. From this， allunmarried men， who have attained a certain age， are called， in Denmark， “peppergentry;” and this must be remembered by all those who wish to understand the story. These“pepper gentlemen，” or， as they are called in England， “old bachelors，” are often made abutt of ridicule; they are told to put on their nightcaps， draw them over their eyes， and goto sleep. The boys in Denmark make a song of it， thus：—
“Poor old bachelor， cut your wood，Such a nightcap was never seen;Who would think itwas ever clean?
Go to sleep， it will do you good.”
So they sing about the “pepper gentleman;” so do they make sport of the poor oldbachelor and his nightcap， and all because they really know nothing of either. It is a cap thatno one need wish for， or laugh at. And why not? Well， we shall hear in the story.
In olden times， Hauschen Street was not paved， and passengers would stumble out ofone hole into another， as they generally do in unfrequented highways; and the street was sonarrow， and the booths leaning against each other were so close together， that in thesummer time a sail would be stretched across the street from one booth to another opposite.At these times the odor of the pepper， saffron， and ginger became more powerful than ever.Behind the counter， as a rule， there were no young men. The clerks were almost all oldboys; but they did not dress as we are accustomed to see old men represented， wearingwigs， nightcaps， and knee-breeches， and with coat and waistcoat buttoned up to the chin.We have seen the portraits of our GREat-grandfathers dressed in this way; but the “peppergentlemen” had no money to spare to have their portraits taken， though one of them wouldhave made a very interesting picture for us now， if taken as he appeared standing behind hiscounter， or going to church， or on holidays. On these occasions， they wore high-crowned，broad-brimmed hats， and sometimes a younger clerk would stick a feather in his. The woollenshirt was concealed by a broad， linen collar; the close jacket was buttoned up to the chin，and the cloak hung loosely over it; the trousers were tucked into the broad， tipped shoes，for the clerks wore no stockings. They generally stuck a table-knife and spoon in their girdles，as well as a larger knife， as a protection to themselves; and such a weapon was often verynecessary.
After this fashion was Anthony dressed on holidays and festivals， excepting that， insteadof a high-crowned hat， he wore a kind of bonnet， and under it a knitted cap， a regularnightcap， to which he was so accustomed that it was always on his head; he had two，nightcaps I mean， not heads. Anthony was one of the oldest of the clerks， and just thesubject for a painter. He was as thin as a lath， wrinkled round the mouth and eyes， hadlong， bony fingers， bushy， gray eyebrows， and over his left eye hung a thick tuft of hair，which did not look handsome， but made his appearance very remarkable. People knew thathe came from Bremen; it was not exactly his home， although his master resided there. Hisancestors were from Thuringia， and had lived in the town of Eisenach， close by Wartburg. OldAnthony seldom spoke of this place， but he thought of it all the more.
the old clerks of Hauschen Street very seldom met together; each one remained in his ownbooth， which was closed early enough in the evening， and then it looked dark and dismal outin the street. Only a faint glimmer of light struggled through the horn panes in the littlewindow on the roof， while within sat the old clerk， generally on his bed， singing his eveninghymn in a low voice; or he would be moving about in his booth till late in the night， busilyemployed in many things. It certainly was not a very lively existence. To be a stranger in astrange land is a bitter lot; no one notices you unless you happen to stand in their way.Often， when it was dark night outside， with rain or snow falling， the place looked quitedeserted and gloomy. There were no lamps in the street， excepting a very small one， whichhung at one end of the street， before a picture of the Virgin， which had been painted on thewall. The dashing of the water against the bulwarks of a neighboring castle could plainly beheard. Such evenings are long and dreary， unless people can find something to do; and soAnthony found it. There were not always things to be packed or unpacked， nor paper bags tobe made， nor the scales to be polished. So Anthony invented employment; he mended hisclothes and patched his boots， and when he at last went to bed，—his nightcap， which hehad worn from habit， still remained on his head; he had only to pull it down a little fartherover his forehead. Very soon， however， it would be pushed up again to see if the light wasproperly put out; he would touch it， press the wick together， and at last pull his nightcapover his eyes and lie down again on the other side. But often there would arise in his mind adoubt as to whether every coal had been quite put out in the little fire-pan in the shop below. Ifeven a tiny spark had remained it might set fire to something， and cause GREat damage. Thenhe would rise from his bed， creep down the ladder—for it could scarcely be called a flight ofstairs—and when he reached the fire-pan not a spark could be seen; so he had just to goback again to bed. But often， when he had got half way back， he would fancy the ironshutters of the door were not properly fastened， and his thin legs would carry him downagain. And when at last he crept into bed， he would be so cold that his teeth chattered in hishead. He would draw the coverlet closer round him， pull his nightcap over his eyes， and try toturn his thoughts from trade， and from the labors of the day， to olden times. But this wasscarcely an agreeable entertainment; for thoughts of olden memories raise the curtains fromthe past， and sometimes pierce the heart with painful recollections till the agony brings tearsto the waking eyes. And so it was with Anthony; often the scalding tears， like pearly drops，would fall from his eyes to the coverlet and roll on the floor with a sound as if one of hisheartstrings had broken. Sometimes， with a lurid flame， memory would light up a picture oflife which had never faded from his heart. If he dried his eyes with his nightcap， then the tearand the picture would be crushed; but the source of the tears remained and welled up again inhis heart. The pictures did not follow one another in order， as the circumstances theyrepresented had occurred; very often the most painful would come together， and when thosecame which were most full of joy， they had always the deepest shadow thrown upon them.