“'How do we make it?' said the chief of the elves with a smile. 'Why you have just seen it;you scarcely knew your sausage skewer again， I am sure.'
“they think themselves very wise， thought I to myself. Then I told them all about it， andwhy I had travelled so far， and also what promise had been made at home to the one whoshould discover the method of preparing this soup. 'What use will it be，' I asked， 'to themouse-king or to our whole mighty kingdom that I have seen all these beautiful things? Icannot shake the sausage peg and say， Look， here is the skewer， and now the soup willcome. That would only produce a dish to be served when people were keeping a fast.'
“then the elf dipped his finger into the cup of a violet， and said to me， 'Look here， I willanoint your pilgrim's staff， so that when you return to your own home and enter the king'scastle， you have only to touch the king with your staff， and violets will spring forth and coverthe whole of it， even in the coldest winter time; so I think I have given you really somethingto carry home， and a little more than something.'”
But before the little mouse explained what this something more was， she stretched herstaff out to the king， and as it touched him the most beautiful bunch of violets sprang forthand filled the place with perfume. The smell was so powerful that the mouse-king ordered themice who stood nearest the chimney to thrust their tails into the fire， that there might be asmell of burning， for the perfume of the violets was overpowering， and not the sort ofscent that every one liked.
“But what was the something more of which you spoke just now?” asked the mouse-king.
“Why，” answered the little mouse， “I think it is what they call 'effect;'” and thereuponshe turned the staff round， and behold not a single flower was to be seen upon it! She nowonly held the naked skewer， and lifted it up as a conductor lifts his baton at a concert. “Violets， the elf told me，” continued the mouse， “are for the sight， the smell， and thetouch; so we have only now to produce the effect of hearing and tasting;” and then， as thelittle mouse beat time with her staff， there came sounds of music， not such music as washeard in the forest， at the elfin feast， but such as is often heard in the kitchen—the soundsof boiling and roasting. It came quite suddenly， like wind rushing through the chimneys， andseemed as if every pot and kettle were boiling over. The fire-shovel clattered down on the brassfender; and then， quite as suddenly， all was still，—nothing could be heard but the light，vapory song of the tea-kettle， which was quite wonderful to hear， for no one could rightlydistinguish whether the kettle was just beginning to boil or going to stop. And the little potsteamed， and the GREat pot simmered， but without any regard for each; indeed thereseemed no sense in the pots at all. And as the little mouse waved her baton still more wildly，the pots foamed and threw up bubbles， and boiled over; while again the wind roared andwhistled through the chimney， and at last there was such a terrible hubbub， that the littlemouse let her stick fall.
“That is a strange sort of soup，” said the mouse-king; “shall we not now hear about thepreparation?”
“That is all，” answered the little mouse， with a bow.
“That all!” said the mouse-king; “then we shall be glad to hear what information the nextmay have to give us.”What the Second Mouse Had to Tell
WAS born in the library， at a castle，“ said the second mouse. ”Very few members of ourfamily ever had the good fortune to get into the dining-room， much less the store-room. Onmy journey， and here to-day， are the only times I have ever seen a kitchen. We were oftenobliged to suffer hunger in the library， but then we gained a GREat deal of knowledge. Therumor reached us of the royal prize offered to those who should be able to make soup from asausage skewer. Then my old grandmother sought out a manuscript which， however， shecould not read， but had heard it read， and in it was written， 'Those who are poets can makesoup of sausage skewers.' She then asked me if I was a poet. I felt myself quite innocent ofany such pretensions. Then she said I must go out and make myself a poet. I asked again whatI should be required to do， for it seemed to me quite as difficult as to find out how to makesoup of a sausage skewer. My grandmother had heard a great deal of reading in her day， andshe told me three principal qualifications were necessary—understanding， imagination， andfeeling. 'If you can manage to acquire these three， you will be a poet， and the sausage-skewer soup will be quite easy to you.'
“So I went forth into the world， and turned mysteps towards the west， that I might become apoet. Understanding is the most important matter ineverything. I knew that， for the two otherqualifications are not thought much of; so I wentfirst to seek for understanding. Where was I to findit? 'Go to the ant and learn wisdom，' said theGREat Jewish king. I knew that from living in alibrary. So I went straight on till I came to the firstgreat ant-hill， and then I set myself to watch， thatI might become wise. The ants are a veryrespectable people， they are wisdom itself. All they do is like the working of a sum inarithmetic， which comes right. 'To work and to lay eggs，' say they， 'and to provide forposterity， is to live out your time properly;' and that they truly do. They are divided into theclean and the dirty ants， their rank is pointed out by a number， and the ant-queen is numberONE; and her opinion is the only correct one on everything; she seems to have the wholewisdom of the world in her， which was just the important matter I wished to acquire. She saida great deal which was no doubt very clever; yet to me it sounded like nonsense. She said theant-hill was the loftiest thing in the world， and yet close to the mound stood a tall tree， whichno one could deny was loftier， much loftier， but no mention was made of the tree. Oneevening an ant lost herself on this tree; she had crept up the stem， not nearly to the top，but higher than any ant had ever ventured; and when at last she returned home she said thatshe had found something in her travels much higher than the ant-hill. The rest of the antsconsidered this an insult to the whole community; so she was condemned to wear a muzzleand to live in perpetual solitude. A short time afterwards another ant got on the tree， andmade the same journey and the same discovery， but she spoke of it cautiously andindefinitely， and as she was one of the superior ants and very much respected， theybelieved her， and when she died they erected an eggshell as a monument to her memory， forthey cultivated a great respect for science. I saw，” said the little mouse， “that the ants werealways running to and fro with her burdens on their backs. Once I saw one of them drop herload; she gave herself a great deal of trouble in trying to raise it again， but she could notsucceed. Then two others came up and tried with all their strength to help her， till they nearlydropped their own burdens in doing so; then they were obliged to stop for a moment in theirhelp， for every one must think of himself first. And the ant-queen remarked that theirconduct that day showed that they possessed kind hearts and good understanding. 'Thesetwo qualities，' she continued， 'place us ants in the highest degree above all other reasonablebeings. Understanding must therefore be seen among us in the most prominent manner， andmy wisdom is greater than all.' And so saying she raised herself on her two hind legs， that noone else might be mistaken for her. I could not therefore make an error， so I ate her up. Weare to go to the ants to learn wisdom， and I had got the queen.