THE GOLOSHES OF FORTUNE. 53

Il.
What happened to the Councillor.

It was late. Councillor Knap, lost in contemplation of the times
of King Hans, wished to get home; and fate willed that instead
of his own goloshes he should put on those of Fortune, and thus
went out into East Street. But by the power of the goloshes he
had been put back three hundred years—into the days of King
Hans ; and therefore he put his foot into mud and mire in the
street, because in those days there was not any pavement,

“Why, this is horrible—how dirty it is here!” said the coun-
cillor. ‘* The good pavement is gone, and all the lamps are put
out.”

The moon did not yet stand high enough to give much light,
and the air was tolerably thick, so that all objects seemed to melt
together in the darkness. At the next corner a lamp hung before
a picture of the Madonna, but the light it gave was as good as
none, he only noticed it when he stood just under it, and his eyes
fell upon the painted figure.

“That is probably a museum of art,” thought he, “ where they
have forgotten to take down the sign.”

A couple of men in the costume of those past days went by him.

“ How they look!” he said. ‘“ They must come from a mas-
querade.”

Suddenly there was a sound of drums and fifes, and torches
gleamed brightly. The councillor started. And now he saw a
strange procession go past. First came a whole troop of drum-
mers, beating their instruments very dexterously; they were fol-
lowed by men-at-arms, with longbows and crossbows. The chief
man in the procession was a clerical lord. The astonished coun-
cillor asked what was the meaning of this, and who the man
might be.

“ That is the Bishop of Zealand.” .

“What in the world has come to the bishop?” said the coun-
cillor, with a sigh, shaking his head. “This could not possibly
be the bishop !” ‘

Ruminating on this, and without looking to the right or to the
left, the councillor went through the East Street, and over the
Highbridge Place. The bridge which led to the Palace Square
was not to be found ; he perceived the shore of a shallow water,
and at length encountered two people, who sat in a boat.

“Do you wish to be ferried over to the Holm, sir?” they asked,

“To the Holm !” repeated the councillor, who did not know,
you see, in what period he was. “I want to go to Christian’s
Haven and to Little Turf Street.”

The men stared at him.