Good Reading: "Four Feathers" by Ludwig Bechstein (translated into English)

A certain man got a son and had to go out to find someone who would be the son's godfather. He met a youthful, very handsome man and begged him to come to the christening. The man came and left behind him a pretty white pony as a christening gift to the boy.

The lad, who had got the name of Henry from his godfather, grew up as the pride of his father and mother. When he was old enough to manage his own affairs, he would stop at home no longer, but decided to go in search of romance and adventure. So he took leave of his parents and mounted the pony that had been given him by his unknown godfather, and ignorant of what the pony was worth he rode gaily and gladly along in the wide world.

As he passed one day through a forest, he saw a very colourful, long feather from a pheasant's tail lying by the way-side. The feather shone brightly in the rays of the sun. The youth stopped his pony, intending to get off the pony and pick up the feather to place in his cap, but suddenly the pony said, "Ah, let that feather lie on the ground!"

The boy was astonished to hear his pony speak, and without taking the feather with him, he rode quietly onwards.

After a while he came to a little stream. On its green bank he saw a second feather lying, and it was much more beautiful than the other. He began to get off his pony, eager to adorn himself with it.

"Ah, let that feather be!" said his pony again.

Even more astonished than before, the boy jumped into his saddle without touching the feather and rode on.

Later he came to a high hill. A third feather was lying in the middle of the grass at its foot. Now this feather shone and glittered and looked so beautiful that he must have it.

Again the pony said, "Don't touch that feather."

But this time the boy ignored the pony's warning and jumped from his saddle, picked up the feather and placed it in his hat.

"Seeing this makes me grieve," cried his pony. "You have done a great injury to yourself and will repent it."

But the youth rode on till he came to a good and well-built city. There he saw a great many gaily-dressed people standing about before they marched towards him to the music of drums and trumpets and fifes. Young girls in the procession strewed flowers on all sides as they walked along and the prettiest one of them bore a golden crown on a cushion.

As soon as they met the young Henry they halted. The chief personages of the town came forward and offered him the crown, saying, "You shall be our king!" All the people cried," Hail to our king!"

Henry did not understand why and how all this happened to him. He knelt down when he felt the crown on his head, and wondered if he was dreaming.

The pony whispered in his ear, "Now I'll tell you why you should not have taken up any of these three feathers: If you had picked up the first feather, you would have become a count. The second would have made a duke of you. And if you had passed the third, you would have found another feather on the top of the mountain. Then I would have told you to pick up and become the owner of a lot more and better than a king – you would have become the emperor!"

The youth was quite content with his choice, however. And perhaps he was far happier than if he had become a mighty emperor instead of the good and just king that my grandfather says he was.