RODOLPH AND HIS KING

"Tell me, Father," said the child at Rodolph's knee, -- "tell me of the
king."

"There is no king, my child," said Rodolph. "What you have heard are old
women's tales. Do not believe them, for there is no king."

"But why, then," queried the child, "do all the people praise and call on
him; why do the birds sing of the king; and why do the brooks always
prattle his name, as they dance from the hills to the sea?"

"Nay," answered Rodolph, "you imagine these things; there is no king.
Believe me, child, there is no king."

So spake Rodolph; but scarcely had he uttered the words when the cricket
in the chimney corner chirped loudly, and his shrill notes seemed to say:
"The king -- the king. " Rodolph could hardly believe his ears. How had the
cricket learned to chirp these words? It was beyond all understanding. But
still the cricket chirped, and still his musical monotone seemed to say,
"The king -- the king," until, with an angry frown, Rodolph strode from his
house, leaving the child to hear the cricket's song alone.

But there were other voices to remind Rodolph of the king. The sparrows
were fluttering under the eaves, and they twittered noisily as Rodolph
strode along, "The king, king, king! " "The king, king, king," twittered
the sparrows, and their little tones were full of gladness and praise.

A thrush sat in the hedge, and she was singing her morning song. It was a
hymn of praise, -- how beautiful it was! "The king -- the king -- the king,"
sang the thrush, and she sang, too, of his goodness, -- it was a wondrous
song, and it was all about the king.

The doves cooed in the elm-trees. "Sing to us! " cried their little ones,
stretching out their pretty heads from the nests. Then the doves nestled
hard by and murmured lullabies, and the lullabies were of the king who
watched over and protected even the little birds in their nests.

Rodolph heard these things, and they filled him with anger.

"It is a lie! " muttered Rodolph; and in great petulance he came to the
brook.

How noisy and romping the brook was; how capricious, how playful, how
furtive! And how he called to the willows and prattled to the listening
grass as he scampered on his way. But Rodolph turned aside and his face
grew darker. He did not like the voice of the brook; for, lo! just as the
cricket had chirped and the birds had sung, so did this brook murmur and
prattle and sing ever of the king, the king, the king.

So, always after that, wherever Rodolph went, he heard voices that told
him of the king; yes, even in their quiet, humble way, the flowers seemed
to whisper the king's name, and every breeze that fanned his brow had a
tale to tell of the king and his goodness.

"But there is no king! " cried Rodolph. "They all conspire to plague me!
There is no king -- there is no king!"

Once he stood by the sea and saw a mighty ship go sailing by. The waves
plashed on the shore and told stories to the pebbles and the sands.
Rodolph heard their thousand voices, and he heard them telling of the
king.

Then a great storm came upon the sea, a tempest such as never before had
been seen. The waves dashed mountain-high and overwhelmed the ship, and
the giant voices of the winds and waves cried of the king, the king! The
sailors strove in agony till all seemed lost. Then, when they could do no
more, they stretched out their hands and called upon the king to save
them, -- the king, the king, the king!

Rodolph saw the tempest subside. The angry winds were lulled, and the
mountain waves sank into sleep, and the ship came safely into port. Then
the sailors sang a hymn of praise, and the hymn was of the king and to the
king.

"But there is no king! " cried Rodolph. "It is a lie; there is no king!"

Yet everywhere he went he heard always of the king; the king's name and
the king's praises were on every tongue; ay, and the things that had no
voices seemed to wear the king's name written upon them, until Rodolph
neither saw nor heard anything that did not mind him of the king.

Then, in great anger, Rodolph said: "I will go to the mountain-tops; there
I shall find no birds, nor trees, nor brooks, nor flowers to prate of a
monarch no one has ever seen. There shall there be no sea to vex me with
its murmurings, nor any human voice to displease me with its
superstitions."

So Rodolph went to the mountains, and he scaled the loftiest pinnacle,
hoping that there at last he might hear no more of that king whom none had
ever seen. And as he stood upon the pinnacle, what a mighty panorama was
spread before him, and what a mighty anthem swelled upon his ears! The
peopled plains, with their songs and murmurings, lay far below; on every
side the mountain peaks loomed up in snowy grandeur; and overhead he saw
the sky, blue, cold, and cloudless, from horizon to horizon.

What voice was that which spoke in Rodolph's bosom then as Rodolph's eyes
beheld this revelation?

"There is a king! " said the voice. "The king lives, and this is his
abiding-place!"

And how did Rodolph's heart stand still when he felt Silence proclaim the
king, -- not in tones of thunder, as the tempest had proclaimed him, nor in
the singing voices of the birds and brooks, but so swiftly, so surely, so
grandly, that Rodolph's soul was filled with awe ineffable.

Then Rodolph cried: "There is a king, and I acknowledge him! Henceforth my
voice shall swell the songs of all in earth and air and sea that know and
praise his name!"

So Rodolph went to his home. He heard the cricket singing of the king;
yes, and the sparrows under the eaves, the thrush in the hedge, the doves
in the elms, and the brook, too, all singing of the king; and Rodolph's
heart was gladdened by their music. And all the earth and the things of
the earth seemed more beautiful to Rodolph now that he believed in the
king; and to the song all Nature sang Rodolph's voice and Rodolph's heart
made harmonious response.

"There _is_ a king, my child," said Rodolph to his little one.
"Together let us sing to him, for he is _our_ king, and his goodness
abideth forever and forever."

1885.

End of title

RODOLPH AND HIS KING

Eugene Field

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