There was once a shilling, which came forth from the
mint springing and shouting, “Hurrah! now I am going out into the wide
world.” And truly it did go out into the wide world. The children held
it with warm hands, the miser with a cold and convulsive grasp, and the
old people turned it about, goodness knows how many times, while the
young people soon allowed it to roll away from them. The shilling was
made of silver, it contained very little copper, and considered itself
quite out in the world when it had been circulated for a year in the
country in which it had been coined. One day, it really did go out into
the world, for it belonged to a gentleman who was about to travel in
foreign lands. This gentleman was not aware that the shilling lay at
the bottom of his purse when he started, till he one day found it
between his fingers. “Why,” cried he, “here is a shilling from home;
well, it must go on its travels with me now!” and the shilling jumped
and rattled for joy, when it was put back again into the purse.
Here
it lay among a number of foreign companions, who were always coming and
going, one taking the place of another, but the shilling from home was
always put back, and had to remain in the purse, which was certainly a
mark of distinction. Many weeks passed, during which the shilling had
travelled a long distance in the purse, without in the least knowing
where he was. He had found out that the other coins were French and
Italian; and one coin said they were in this town, and another said
they were in that, but the shilling was unable to make out or imagine
what they meant. A man certainly cannot see much of the world if he is
tied up in a bag, and this was really the shilling’s fate. But one day,
as he was lying in the purse, he noticed that it was not quite closed,
and so he slipped near to the opening to have a little peep into
society. He certainly had not the least idea of what would follow, but
he was curious, and curiosity often brings its own punishment. In his
eagerness, he came so near the edge of the purse that he slipped out
into the pocket of the trousers; and when, in the evening, the purse
was taken out, the shilling was left behind in the corner to which it
had fallen. As the clothes were being carried into the hall, the
shilling fell out on the floor, unheard and unnoticed by any one. The
next morning the clothes were taken back to the room, the gentleman put
them on, and started on his journey again; but the shilling remained
behind on the floor. After a time it was found, and being considered a
good coin, was placed with three other coins. “Ah,” thought the
shilling, “this is pleasant; I shall now see the world, become
acquainted with other people, and learn other customs.”
“Do
you call that a shilling?” said some one the next moment. “That is not
a genuine coin of the country,—it is false; it is good for nothing.”
Now begins the story as it was afterwards related by the shilling himself.
“‘False!
good for nothing!’ said he. That remark went through and through me
like a dagger. I knew that I had a true ring, and that mine was a
genuine stamp. These people must at all events be wrong, or they could
not mean me. But yes, I was the one they called ‘false, and good for
nothing.’
“‘Then I must pay it away in the dark,’
said the man who had received me. So I was to be got rid of in the
darkness, and be again insulted in broad daylight.
“‘False!
good for nothing!’ Oh, I must contrive to get lost, thought I. And I
trembled between the fingers of the people every time they tried to
pass me off slyly as a coin of the country. Ah! unhappy shilling that I
was! Of what use were my silver, my stamp, and my real value here,
where all these qualities were worthless. In the eyes of the world, a
man is valued just according to the opinion formed of him. It must be a
shocking thing to have a guilty conscience, and to be sneaking about on
account of wicked deeds. As for me, innocent as I was, I could not help
shuddering before their eyes whenever they brought me out, for I knew I
should be thrown back again up the table as a false pretender. At
length I was paid away to a poor old woman, who received me as wages
for a hard day’s work. But she could not again get rid of me; no one
would take me. I was to the woman a most unlucky shilling. ‘I am
positively obliged to pass this shilling to somebody,’ said she; ‘I
cannot, with the best intentions, lay by a bad shilling. The rich baker
shall have it,—he can bear the loss better than I can. But, after all,
it is not a right thing to do.’
“‘Ah!’ sighed I to
myself, ‘am I also to be a burden on the conscience of this poor woman?
Am I then in my old days so completely changed?’ The woman offered me
to the rich baker, but he knew the current money too well, and as soon
as he received me he threw me almost in the woman’s face. She could get
no bread for me, and I felt quite grieved to the heart that I should be
cause of so much trouble to another, and be treated as a cast-off coin.
I who, in my young days, felt so joyful in the certainty of my own
value, and knew so well that I bore a genuine stamp. I was as sorrowful
now as a poor shilling can be when nobody will have him. The woman took
me home again with her, and looking at me very earnestly, she said,
‘No, I will not try to deceive any one with thee again. I will bore a
hole through thee, that everyone may know that thou art a false and
worthless thing; and yet, why should I do that? Very likely thou art a
lucky shilling. A thought has just struck me that it is so, and I
believe it. Yes, I will make a hole in the shilling,’ said she, ‘and
run a string through it, and then give it to my neighbor’s little one
to hang round her neck, as a lucky shilling.’ So she drilled a hole
through me.
“It is really not at all pleasant to have
a hole bored through one, but we can submit to a great deal when it is
done with a good intention. A string was drawn through the hole, and I
became a kind of medal. They hung me round the neck of a little child,
and the child laughed at me and kissed me, and I rested for one whole
night on the warm, innocent breast of a child.
“In
the morning the child’s mother took me between her fingers, and had
certain thoughts about me, which I very soon found out. First, she
looked for a pair of scissors, and cut the string.
“‘Lucky
shilling!’ said she, ‘certainly this is what I mean to try.’ Then she
laid me in vinegar till I became quite green, and after that she filled
up the hole with cement, rubbed me a little to brighten me up, and went
out in the twilight hour to the lottery collector, to buy herself a
ticket, with a shilling that should bring luck. How everything seemed
to cause me trouble. The lottery collector pressed me so hard that I
thought I should crack. I had been called false, I had been thrown
away,—that I knew; and there were many shillings and coins with
inscriptions and stamps of all kinds lying about. I well knew how proud
they were, so I avoided them from very shame. With the collector were
several men who seemed to have a great deal to do, so I fell unnoticed
into a chest, among several other coins.
“Whether the
lottery ticket gained a prize, I know not; but this I know, that in a
very few days after, I was recognized as a bad shilling, and laid
aside. Everything that happened seemed always to add to my sorrow. Even
if a man has a good character, it is of no use for him to deny what is
said of him, for he is not considered an impartial judge of himself.
“A
year passed, and in this way I had been changed from hand to hand;
always abused, always looked at with displeasure, and trusted by no
one; but I trusted in myself, and had no confidence in the world. Yes,
that was a very dark time.
“At length one day I was
passed to a traveller, a foreigner, the very same who had brought me
away from home; and he was simple and true-hearted enough to take me
for current coin. But would he also attempt to pass me? and should I
again hear the outcry, ‘False! good-for-nothing!’ The traveller
examined me attentively, ‘I took thee for good coin,’ said he; then
suddenly a smile spread all over his face. I have never seen such a
smile on any other face as on his. ‘Now this is singular,’ said he, ‘it
is a coin from my own country; a good, true, shilling from home. Some
one has bored a hole through it, and people have no doubt called it
false. How curious that it should come into my hands. I will take it
home with me to my own house.’
“Joy thrilled through
me when I heard this. I had been once more called a good, honest
shilling, and I was to go back to my own home, where each and all would
recognize me, and know that I was made of good silver, and bore a true,
genuine stamp. I should have been glad in my joy to throw out sparks of
fire, but it has never at any time been my nature to sparkle. Steel can
do so, but not silver. I was wrapped up in fine, white paper, that I
might not mix with the other coins and be lost; and on special
occasions, when people from my own country happened to be present, I
was brought forward and spoken of very kindly. They said I was very
interesting, and it was really quite worth while to notice that those
who are interesting have often not a single word to say for themselves.
“At length I reached home. All my cares were at an
end. Joy again overwhelmed me; for was I not good silver, and had I not
a genuine stamp? I had no more insults or disappointments to endure;
although, indeed, there was a hole through me, as if I were false; but
suspicions are nothing when a man is really true, and every one should
persevere in acting honestly, for an will be made right in time. That
is my firm belief,” said the shilling.
