The contrast of this spark of imperial kindness against the gloom of
the background of the war that the Kaiser made is a pleasant thing to
see, even though it illuminates for only a moment the savage darkness
in which our days are plunged. It was a kindness that probably will
long be remembered to him. Even we, his enemies, will remember it. And
who knows but that when most he needs it his reward for the act will
be given him.
For Judas, they say, once in his youth, gave his cloak, out of
compassion, to a shivering beggar, who sat shaken with ague, in rags,
in bitter need. And the years went by and Judas forgot his deed. And
long after, in Hell, Judas they say was given one day's respite at the
end of every year because of this one kindness he had done so long
since in his youth. And every year he goes, they say, for a day and
cools himself among the Arctic bergs; once every year for century
after century.
Perhaps some sailor on watch on a misty evening blown far out of his
course away to the north saw something ghostly once on an iceberg
floating by, or heard some voice in the dimness that seemed like the
voice of man, and came home with this weird story.
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