there was once a shilling; it came out bright and shiny from the mint, and sprang up, shouting, "hurrah! now i'm going out into the wide world!" and into the wide world he went. the child held it with soft, tender hands; the miser clutched it with cold, clammy fingers; the old man turned it over many times before letting it go; while the youth immediately passed it along. the shilling was of silver, with very little copper in it; already it had been in the world for a whole year now-that is, in the country where it was made. but one day it started to travel to foreign lands; it was the last native coin in the purse that the traveling gentleman had with him. he himself didn't know he had this coin until it happened to come between his fingers.
"why, here's a shilling from home i still have," he said. "it can make the trip with me."
and the shilling rattled and jumped for joy as it was put back into the purse. so here it lay among foreign companions, who came and went, each making a place for the next one. only the shilling from home always stayed in the purse, which was a mark of distinction.
several weeks passed, and the shilling was far out in the world, without knowing exactly where it was, although it did hear that the other coins were french or italian. one said they were in a certain town, another reported that they had reached another place, but the shilling hadn't any idea about it. anyone who keeps his head in a bag can't see a thing; and that was the case with the shilling.
