thedral of Strassburg, there is a
little man in stone gazing up at the angel's pillar which supports the
south wing of the cathedral. Long ago the little man who is now
sculptured in stone, stood there in flesh and blood. He used to stare
up at the pillar with a criticising eye from top to bottom and again
from bottom to top. Then he would shake his head doubtfully each time.

It happened once that a sculptor passed the cathedral and saw the
little man looking up, evidently comparing the proportions of the
pillar.

"It seems to me you are finding fault with the pillar, my good
fellow," the stone-cutter remarked, and the little man nodded with a
self-satisfied look.

"Well, what do you think of it? Speak out my man," said the master,
tapping the fellow's shoulder encouragingly.

"The pillar is certainly splendid," began the latter slowly, "the
Apostles, the angels, and the Saviour are most beautiful too. But
there is one thing troubling me. That slender pillar cannot support
that heavy vault much longer; it will soon totter and fall down, and
all will go to pieces."

The sculptor looked alternately at the work of art and at its strange
fault-finder. A contemptuous smile passed over his features.

"You are quite convinced of the truth of your statement, aren't you?"
asked he enquiringly.

The bold critic repeated his doubts with an important air.

"Well," cried the stone-cutter, with comical earnestness, "then you
will remain there always, gazing at the pillar until it sinks down,
crushed by the vault."

He went straight off into his workshop, seized hammer and chisel, and
formed the little man into stone just as he was, looking upwards with
a knowing face and an important air.

This little figure is still there at the present day with both hands
leaning on the balustrade of St. Nicholas' chapel, awaiting the
expected fall of the pillar, and most likely he will remain there for
many a century to come.

WORMS

The Nibelungen Lied

[Illustration: Siegfried auf der Totenbahre--Nach dem Gemaelde von Emil
Lauffer]

To-day we are deeply touched, as our forefathers must have been, at
the recital of the boundless suffering and the overwhelming
concatenation of sin and expiation in the lives of the Recken and
Frauen of the Nibelungen Legend. That naive singer has remained
nameless and unknown, who about the end of the 12th century wrote down
this legend in poetic form, thus preserving forever our most p