“the jailer took possession of me now. He said something about soup from a sausageskewer， but I could not trust him. He took me in his hand certainly， but it was to place me ina cage like a tread-mill. Oh how dreadful it was! I had to run round and round without gettingany farther in advance， and only to make everybody laugh. The jailer's grand-daughter was acharming little thing. She had curly hair like the brightest gold， merry eyes， and such asmiling mouth.
“'You poor little mouse，' said she， one day as she peeped into my cage， 'I will set youfree.' She then drew forth the iron fastening， and I sprang out on the window-sill， and fromthence to the roof. Free! free! that was all I could think of; not of the object of my journey.It GREw dark， and as night was coming on I found a lodging in an old tower， where dwelt awatchman and an owl. I had no confidence in either of them， least of all in the owl， which islike a cat， and has a great failing， for she eats mice. One may however be mistakensometimes; and so was I， for this was a respectable and well-educated old owl， who knewmore than the watchman， and even as much as I did myself. The young owls made a greatfuss about everything， but the only rough words she would say to them were， 'You hadbetter go and make some soup from sausage skewers.' She was very indulgent and loving toher children. Her conduct gave me such confidence in her， that from the crack where I sat Icalled out 'squeak.' This confidence of mine pleased her so much that she assured me shewould take me under her own protection， and that not a creature should do me harm. Thefact was， she wickedly meant to keep me in reserve for her own eating in winter， when foodwould be scarce. Yet she was a very clever lady-owl; she explained to me that the watchmancould only hoot with the horn that hung loose at his side; and then she said he is so terriblyproud of it， that he imagines himself an owl in the tower;—wants to do great things， butonly succeeds in small; all soup on a sausage skewer. Then I begged the owl to give me therecipe for this soup. 'Soup from a sausage skewer，' said she， 'is only a proverb amongstmankind， and may be understood in many ways. Each believes his own way the best， andafter all， the proverb signifies nothing.' 'Nothing!' I exclaimed. I was quite struck. Truth isnot always agreeable， but truth is above everything else， as the old owl said. I thought overall this， and saw quite plainly that if truth was really so far above everything else， it must bemuch more valuable than soup from a sausage skewer. So I hastened to get away， that Imight be home in time， and bring what was highest and best， and above everything—namely， the truth. The mice are an enlightened people， and the mouse-king is above themall. He is therefore capable of making me queen for the sake of truth.”
“Your truth is a falsehood，” said the mouse who had not yet spoken; “I can prepare thesoup， and I mean to do so.”
How It Was Prepared
DID not travel，“ said the third mouse; ”I stayed in this country： that was the right way.One gains nothing by travelling—everything can be acquired here quite as easily; so I stayed athome. I have not obtained what I know from supernatural beings. I have neither swallowed it，nor learnt it from conversing with owls. I have got it all from my reflections and thoughts. Willyou now set the kettle on the fire—so? Now pour the water in—quite full—up to the brim;place it on the fire; make up a good blaze; keep it burning， that the water may boil; itmust boil over and over. There， now I throw in the skewer. Will the mouse-king be pleasednow to dip his tail into the boiling water， and stir it round with the tail. The longer the kingstirs it， the stronger the soup will become. Nothing more is necessary， only to stir it.“
“Can no one else do this?” asked the king.
“No，” said the mouse; “only in the tail of the mouse-king is this power contained.”
And the water boiled and bubbled， as the mouse-king stood close beside the kettle. Itseemed rather a dangerous performance; but he turned round， and put out his tail， asmice do in a dairy， when they wish to skim the cream from a pan of milk with their tails andafterwards lick it off. But the mouse-king's tail had only just touched the hot steam， when hesprang away from the chimney in a GREat hurry， exclaiming， “Oh， certainly， by all means，you must be my queen; and we will let the soup question rest till our golden wedding， fiftyyears hence; so that the poor in my kingdom， who are then to have plenty of food， will havesomething to look forward to for a long time， with great joy.”
And very soon the wedding took place. But many of the mice， as they were returninghome， said that the soup could not be properly called “soup from a sausage skewer，” but“soup from a mouse's tail.” They acknowledged also that some of the stories were very welltold; but that the whole could have been managed differently. “I should have told it so—and so—and so.” These were the critics who are always so clever afterwards.
When this story was circulated all over the world， the opinions upon it were divided; butthe story remained the same. And， after all， the best way in everything you undertake，GREat as well as small， is to expect no thanks for anything you may do， even when it refersto “soup from a sausage skewer.”