"Is it really true," he asked, that you do not know what
poetry is?"

"Of course I know," replied the cask: "poetry is something
that always stand in the corner of a newspaper, and is
sometimes cut out; and I may venture to affirm that I have
more of it in me than the student has, and I am only a poor
tub of the huckster's."

Then the goblin placed the tongue on the coffee mill; and
how it did go to be sure! Then he put it on the butter tub and
the cash box, and they all expressed the same opinion as the
waste-paper tub; and a majority must always be respected.

"Now I shall go and tell the student," said the goblin;
and with these words he went quietly up the back stairs to the
garret where the student lived. He had a candle burning still,
and the goblin peeped through the keyhole and saw that he was
reading in the torn book, which he had brought out of the
shop. But how light the room was! From the book shot forth a
ray of light which grew broad and full, like the stem of a
tree, from which bright rays spread upward and over the
student's head. Each leaf was fresh, and each flower was like
a beautiful female head; some with dark and sparkling eyes,
and others with eyes that were wonderfully blue and clear. The
fruit gleamed like stars, and the room was filled with sounds
of beautiful music. The little goblin had never imagined, much
less seen or heard of, any sight so glorious as this. He stood
still on tiptoe, peeping in, till the light went out in the
garret. The student no doubt had blown out his candle and gone
to bed; but the little goblin remained standing there
nevertheless, and listening to the music which still sounded
on, soft and beautiful, a sweet cradle-song for the student,
who had lain down to rest."

"This is a wonderful place," said the goblin; "I never
expected such a thing. I should like to stay here with the
student;" and the little man thought it over, for he was a
sensible little spirit. At last he sighed, "but the student
has no jam!" So he went down stairs again into the huckster's
shop, and it was a good thing he got back when he did, for the
cask had almost worn out the lady's tongue; he had given a
description of all that he contained on one side, and was just
about to turn himself over to the other side to describe what
was there, when the goblin entered and restored the tongue to
the lady. , the whole shop, from the
cash box down to the pinewood logs, formed their opinions from
that of the cask; and they all had such confidence in him, and
treated him with so much respect, that when the huckster read
the criticisms on theatricals and art of an evening, they
fancied it must all come from the cask.