vered with snow. He, however, heeded it not, and
journeyed on. It must come at last, the long-sought goal! At last he
reached a mighty snow-covered mountain range, so mighty that he said to
himself, "Beyond this it must surely lie," and in glad hope passed
forward. A whole day he ascended over snow and ice: his feet were sore
and bruised, and he was shivering from the cold, and yet no hut was to
be seen that might offer him shelter. The sun went down in crimson
behind the ice-armored mountains, leaving behind a bitter coldness, so
great that the stars in the heavens shivered with frost.

Then it occurred to tired Hans that it was Christmas, and for the first
time on his journey he thought for a long while of home, where the
Christmas-tree was now lighting up the warm room, and the dear ones were
assembling around it. But what mattered the Christmas-tree to him; he
was seeking Paradise!

Suddenly he saw on the roadside an old man. He was sitting on his
bundle, and leaning his head on his hands. He must have been very old,
for his face was furrowed like the bark of an oak, and his snowy beard
hung nearly to the ground.

Then tired Hans rejoiced, greeted him, and asked how far it might be to
the nearest habitation of man.

"To-day you can no longer reach it," replied the old man. "Whither are
you journeying?"

"I seek Paradise," answered Hans: "nearly a year have I wandered over
the earth, and yet have not found it."

Thereupon the old man arose, laid his hands upon Hans's shoulder, and
said, "Turn back and go home! I have wandered for more than a thousand
years on earth, and sought Paradise, and have not found it. Know, then,
I am Ahasuerus, doomed to everlasting wandering as a penance. Wherever I
go I am persecuted; where I knock the gate is locked; and nowhere have I
a home. Stones are my bed, and my bundle is my pillow. Go, poor fool!
return to the place of your birth. There, some day, they will dig a
grave for you, wherein you may sleep peacefully. Go back to your home,
where a Christmas-tree is lit up for you, and where you are loved, and
leave to me all wandering and seeking: to me, the poor, old, accursed
man!"

Then Hans was very sad: he threw down his bundle, sat down in the snow,
and wept bitterly. However, he was so tired from the long journey that
he soon forgot all his misery, and fell into a deep slumber. The old man
spread his cloak over him to protect him from the cold, and then
listened to the de