The Storm Shakes the Shield

								
In the old days, when grandpapa was quite a little boy, and ran
about in little red breeches and a red coat, and a feather in his
cap--for that's the costume the little boys wore in his time when they were
dressed in their best--many things were very different from what
they are now. There was often a good deal of show in the streets--show
that we don't see nowadays, because it has been abolished as too
old-fashioned. Still, it is very interesting to hear grandfather
tell about it.

It must really have been a gorgeous sight to behold, in those
days, when the shoemaker brought over the shield, when the court-house
was changed. The silken flag waved to and fro, on the shield itself
a double eagle was displayed, and a big boot; the youngest lads
carried the "welcome," and the chest of the workmen's guild, and their
shirt-sleeves were adorned with red and white ribbons; the elder
ones carried drawn swords, each with a lemon stuck on its point. There
was a full band of music, and the most splendid of all the instruments
was the "bird," as grandfather called the big stick with the
crescent on the top, and all manner of dingle-dangles hanging to it--a
perfect Turkish clatter of music. The stick was lifted high in the
air, and swung up and down till it jingled again, and quite dazzled
one's eyes when the sun shone on all its glory of gold, and silver,
and brass.

In front of the procession ran the Harlequin, dressed in clothes
made of all kinds of colored patches artfully sewn together, with a
black face, and bells on his head like a sledge horse. He beat the
people with his bat, which made a great clattering without hurting
them, and the people would crowd together and fall back, only to
advance again the next moment. Little boys and girls fell over their
own toes into the gutter, old women dispensed digs with their
elbows, and looked sour, and took snuff. One laughed, another chatted;
the people thronged the windows and door-steps, and even all the
roofs. The sun shone; and although they had a little rain too, that
was good for the farmer; and when they got wetted thoroughly, they
only thought what a blessing it was for the country.

And what stories grandpapa could tell! As a little boy he had seen
all these fine doings in their greatest pomp. The oldest of the
policemen used to make a speech from the platform on which the
shield was hung up, and the speech was in verse, as if it had been
made by a poet, as, indeed it had; for three people had concocted it
together, and they had first drunk a good bowl of punch, so that the
speech might turn out well.

And the people gave a cheer for the speech, but they shouted
much louder for the Harlequin, when he appeared in front of the
platform, and made a grimace at them.

The fools played the fool most admirably, and drank mead out of
spirit-glasses, which they then flung among the crowd, by whom they
were caught up. Grandfather was the possessor of one of these glasses,
which had been given him by a working mason, who had managed to
catch it. Such a scene was really very pleasant; and the shield on the
new court-house was hung with flowers and green wreaths.

"One never forgets a feast like that, however old one may grow,"
said grandfather. Nor did he forget it, though he saw many other grand
spectacles in his time, and could tell about them too; but it was most
pleasant of all to hear him tell about the shield that was brought
in the town from the old to the new court-house.

Once, when he was a little boy, grandpapa had gone with his
parents to see this festivity. He had never yet been in the metropolis
of the country. There were so many people in the streets, that he
thought that the shield was being carried. There were many shields
to be seen; a hundred rooms might have been filled with pictures, if
they had been hung up inside and outside. At the tailor's were
pictures of all kinds of clothing, to show that he could stitch up
people from the coarsest to the finest; at the tobacco manufacturer's
were pictures of the most charming little boys, smoking cigars,
just as they do in reality; there were signs with painted butter,
and herring, clerical collars, and coffins, and inscriptions
and announcements into the bargain. A person could walk up and down
for a whole day through the streets, and tire himself out with looking
at the pictures; and then he would know all about what people lived in
the houses, for they had hung out their shields or signs; and, as
grandfather said, it was a very instructive thing, in a great town, to
know at once who the inhabitants were.

And this is what happened with these shields, when grandpapa
came to the town. He told it me himself, and he hadn't "a rogue on his
back," as mother used to tell me he had when he wanted to make me
believe something outrageous, for now he looked quite trustworthy.

The first night after he came to the town had been signalized by
the most terrible gale ever recorded in the newspapers--a gale such as
none of the inhabitants had ever before experienced. The air was
dark with flying tiles; old wood-work crashed and fell; and a
wheelbarrow ran up the streets all alone, only to get out of the
way. There was a groaning in the air, and a howling and a shrieking,
and altogether it was a terrible storm. The water in the canal rose
over the banks, for it did not know where to run. The storm swept over
the town, carrying plenty of chimneys with it, and more than one proud
weathercock on a church tower had to bow, and has never got over it
from that time.

There was a kind of sentry-house, where dwelt the venerable old
superintendent of the fire brigade, who always arrived with the last
engine. The storm would not leave this little sentry-house alone,
but must needs tear it from its fastenings, and roll it down the
street; and, wonderfully enough, it stopped opposite to the door of
the dirty journeyman plasterer, who had saved three lives at the
last fire, but the sentry-house thought nothing of that.

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