boy, quite naked, and the water ran down from his long
golden hair; he trembled with cold, and had he not come into a warm room
he would most certainly have perished in the frightful tempest.

"Poor child!" said the old poet, as he took the boy by the hand. "Come
in, come in, and I will soon restore thee! Thou shalt have wine and
roasted apples, for thou art verily a charming child!" And the boy was
so really. His eyes were like two bright stars; and although the water
trickled down his hair, it waved in beautiful curls. He looked exactly
like a little angel, but he was so pale, and his whole body trembled
with cold. He had a nice little bow in his hand, but it was quite
spoiled by the rain, and the tints of his many-colored arrows ran one
into the other.

The old poet seated himself beside his hearth, and took the little
fellow on his lap; he squeezed the water out of his dripping hair,
warmed his hands between his own, and boiled for him some sweet wine.
Then the boy recovered, his cheeks again grew rosy, he jumped down from
the lap where he was sitting, and danced round the kind old poet.

"You are a merry fellow," said the old man. "What's your name?"

"My name is Cupid," answered the boy. "Don't you know me? There lies my
bow; it shoots well, I can assure you! Look, the weather is now clearing
up, and the moon is shining clear again through the window."

"Why, your bow is quite spoiled," said the old poet.

"That were sad indeed," said the boy, and he took the bow in his hand
and examined it on every side. "Oh, it is dry again, and is not hurt at
all; the string is quite tight. I will try it directly." And he bent his
bow, took aim, and shot an arrow at the old poet, right into his heart.
"You see now that my bow was not spoiled," said he laughing; and away he
ran.

The naughty boy, to shoot the old poet in that way; he who had taken him
into his warm room, who had treated him so kindly, and who had given him
warm wine and the very best apples!

The poor poet lay on the earth and wept, for the arrow had really flown
into his heart.

"Fie!" said he. "How naughty a boy Cupid is! I will tell all children
about him, that they may take care and not play with him, for he will
only cause them sorrow and many a heartache."

And all good children to whom he related this story, took great heed
of this naughty Cupid; but he made fools of them still, for he is
astonishingly cunning. When the university students come