and that he would never come within one
hundred feet of it while the pears were ripe.

"May a hundred devils seize me," said the
thief, "if I ever come within a league of it again
while I live!"

"That is enough," said the Goodman. "Come
down, neighbour; you are free, but never return,
if you please."

The thief was so stiff and swollen in his limbs,
that poor old Misery had to help him down
with a ladder; for nothing would persuade the
neighbours to approach the tree a second time.
The adventure made a great noise in the
neighbourhood, and thenceforth Misery's pears were
respected scrupulously.

But Goodman Misery was old, and his
strength was waning daily. He was content
with the fruit of his pear-tree, but it was meagre
fare that contented him. One day a knock was
made at his door. He threw the door open
and beheld a visitor whom he had long
expected, but whom he did not imagine to be
quite so near his poor hearth. It was Death,
who, on his rounds, had stepped aside to tell
him that his hour was near.

"Be welcome," said the Goodman, without
flinching a muscle, and looking steadfastly at
him as one who did not fear him. Misery had
naught on his conscience, though he had lived
with very little on his back. Death was
surprised to find himself so well received.

"What!" cried Death. "Thou hast no fear
of me! No fear of Death! at whose look the
strongest tremble, from the shepherd to the
king?"

"No, I have no dread of your presence,"
Misery said. "What pleasure have I in this
life? If anything in this world could give me
a regret, it would be that of parting from my
pear-tree, which has fed me through so many
years. But you must be settled with, and you
brook no delays nor subterfuges when you
beckon. All I will ask and beg you to grant
me before I die, is, that I may eat one more of
my pears in your presence. Afterwards I
shall be ready."

"Thy wish is too modest a wish to be refused,"
said Death.

Misery crept forth into his yard, Death
following closely on his heels. The Goodman
shuffled many times round his beloved tree,
seeking the finest pear. At length having
selected a magnificent one, "There," he said,
"I choose that one: I pray you lend me your
scythe to cut it down."

"This instrument is never lent," quoth Death.
"No good soldier permits himself to be
disarmed. But it seems to me it would be
better to pluck your pear with the hand. It
would be bruised by a fall. Climb into the
tree."

"A good idea," said Misery. "If I had the
strength, I would climb; but don't you see I
can hardly stand?"

"Well"," Death answered, "I will afford
this service. I will climb the tree myself."

Death climbed the pear-tree, and plucked
the fruit which Misery coveted so ardently;
but was astonished when he found it impossible
to regain the ground.

"Goodman Misery," said Death, "tell me
what kind of a tree is this?"

"Cannot you see that it is a pear-tree?"

"Yes, yes; but how is it that I can move
neither hand nor foot upon it?"

"I' faith that's your business," Goodman
Misery answered.

"What, Goodman! You dare to play a trick
upon me, at whose nod all the world trembles?
Do you know the risks you are running?"

"I am very sorry," was Misery's cool answer.
"But what have you risked yourself in coming
to disturb the peace of an unfortunate who
never did you harm in his life. What fantastic
notion led you to me? You have the time to
reflect, however; and since I have you now
under my thumb, I will do a little good to the
poor world, that you have held in bondage for
so many centuries. No! Without the help
of a miracle, you will not get out of that tree,
until I please to permit you."

Death, who had never found himself in such
a plight, saw that he had to deal with some
supernatural power.

"Goodman Misery," he pleaded, "I deserve
this for having been too amiable towards you.
But, don't abuse the power which the All
Powerful has given you, for an instant, over
me. Make no further opposition, I pray you,
to the decrees of Heaven. Consent that I shall
descend the tree at once, or I will blast it unto
death."

"Blast it," Misery answered, "and I protest
to you, by all that is most sacred in the world,
dead as my tree may be, it will hold you until
you get free from it by God's will."

"I perceive," Death went on, "that I
entered an unfortunate house for myself to-
day. But come, come, Goodman Misery. I
have business in the four quarters of the world,
and it must be all ended before sundown. Do
you wish to arrest the course of nature? If I
were to make my way out of this predicament,
you might feel it sharply."

"Nay," said Misery, "I fear nothing. Every
man who is above the fear of Death is beyond
any threats. Your menaces have no effect on
me. I am always ready to start for the next
world when the Lord shall summon me."

"Very fine sentiments, Goodman Misery!
Thou mayest boast, Goodman, of being the first
in this life who has gotten the better of Death.
Heaven commands me that with thy consent
I leave thee, to return to thee only on the last
day of judgment, when I shall have completed
my great work, and man shall be no more. You
shall see the end, I promise you; so now, without
hesitation, allow me to come down, or let
me fly away. A queen is waiting for me, five
hundred leagues away."

"Ought I to believe you? Or is it only to
betray me that you speak thus to me?"

"No, never shalt thou see me again until all
nature is desolation. The last stroke of my