There was once on a time a tailor who had three sons, and only one goat. But as the goat supported the whole of them with her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken every day to pasture. The sons, therefore, did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found, and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time to go home he asked, "Goat, have you had enough?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and took hold of the cord round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely.
"Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had as much food as she ought?"
"Oh," answered the son, "she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch."
But the father wished to satisfy himself, and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal and asked, "Goat, are you satisfied?" The goat answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"What do I hear?" cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the youth, "Hollo, you liar: you saidest the goat had had enough, and have let her hunger!" and in his anger he took the yard-measure from the wall, and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked out for a place in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and the goat cleared them all off. At night when he wanted to go home, he asked, "Goat, are you satisfied?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her home, and tied her up in the stable.
"Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had as much food as she ought?"
"Oh," answered the son, "she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch." The tailor would not rely on this, but went down to the stable and said, "Goat, have you had enough?" The goat answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"
"The godless wretch!" cried the tailor, "to let such a good animal hunger," and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do the thing well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he asked, "Goat, have you had enough?" The goat answered,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the youth, and led her into the stable, and tied her up.
"Well," said the old tailor, "has the goat had a proper amount of food?"
"She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch."
The tailor did not trust to that, but went down and asked, "Goat, have you had enough?" The wicked beast answered,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
"Oh, the brood of liars!" cried the tailor, "each as wicked and forgetful of his duty as the other! You shall no longer make a fool of me," and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs and belabored the poor young fellow so vigorously with the yard-measure that he sprang out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he went down into the stable, caressed the goat and said, "Come, my dear little animal, I will take you to feed myself."
He took her by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil, and whatever else goats like to eat.
"There you may for once eat to your heart's content," he said to her, and let her browse till evening. Then he asked, "Goat, are you satisfied?" She replied,
"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"
"Come home, then," said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and tied her fast.
When he was going away, he turned round again and said, "Well, are you satisfied for once?"
But the goat did not behave the better to him, and cried,
"Wherewithal should I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh! meh!"
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that he had driven away his three sons without cause.
"Wait, you ungrateful creature," cried he, "it is not enough to drive you forth, I will mark you so that you will no more dare to show yourself amongst honest tailors."
In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm of his hand. And as the yard-measure would have been too good for her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that she ran away in violent haste.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no one knew where they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed himself to a joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably, and when the time came for him to go travelling, his master presented him with a little table which had no particular appearance, and was made of common wood, but it had one good property; if anyone set it out, and said, "Little table, spread yourself," the good little table was at once covered with a clean little cloth, and a plate was there, and a knife and fork beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a great glass of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad. The young journeyman thought,
"With this you have enough for your whole life," and went joyously about the world and never troubled himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it down before him, and said, "Cover yourself," and then everything appeared that his heart desired.
At length he took it into his head to go back to his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and who would now willingly receive him with his wishing-table. It came to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in getting anything.
"No," answered the joiner, "I will not take the few bites out of your mouths; rather than that, you shall be my guests."
They laughed, and thought he was jesting with them; he, however, placed his wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, "Little table, cover yourself."
At once it was covered with food, so good that the host could never have procured it, and the smell of it ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests.
"Fall to, dear friends," said the joiner; and the guests when they saw that he meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out their knives and attacked it
valiantly. And what surprised them the most was that when a dish became empty, a full one at once took its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and watched the affair; he did not at all know what to say, but thought, "You could easily find a use for such a cook as that in your kitchen."
The joiner and his comrades made merry till late into the night; at length they lay down to sleep, and the young apprentice also went to bed, and set his magic table against the wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest; it occurred to him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room which looked just like the apprentice's and he brought it out quite softly, and exchanged it for the wishing-table. Next morning, the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never thinking that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he reached his father, who received him with great joy.
"Well, my dear son, what have you learnt?" he said to him.
"Father, I have become a joiner."
"A good trade," replied the old man; "but what have you brought back with you from your apprenticeship?"
"Father, the best thing which I have brought back with me is this little table."
The tailor inspected it on all sides and said, "You did not make a masterpiece when you mad'st that; it is a bad old table."
"But it is a table which furnishes itself," replied the son.
"When I set it out, and tell it to cover itself, the most beautiful dishes stand on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just invite all our relations and friends, they shall refresh and enjoy themselves for once, for the table will give them all they require."
When the company was assembled, he put his table in the middle of the room and said,
"Little table, cover yourself," but the little table did not bestir itself, and remained just as bare as any other table which did not understand language. Then the poor apprentice became aware that his table had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and were forced to go home without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his patches again, and went on tailoring, but the son went to a master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself to him. When his years were over, the master said, "As you have conducted yourself so well, I give you an ass of a peculiar kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack."
"To what use is he put, then?" asked the young apprentice.
"He lets gold drop from his mouth," answered the miller.
"If you set him on a cloth and say 'Bricklebrit,' the good animal will drop gold pieces for you."
"That is a fine thing," said the apprentice, and thanked the master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say "Bricklebrit" to his ass, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground. Wherever he went, the best of everything was good enough for him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a full purse. When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, "You must seek out your father; if you go to him with the gold-ass he will forget his anger, and receive you well."
It came to pass that he came to the same public-house in which his brother's table had been exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was about to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young apprentice said, "Don't trouble yourself, I will take my grey horse into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he stands."
This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a man who was forced to look after his ass himself, could not have much to spend; but when the stranger put his hand in his pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and he said was to provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he could muster. After dinner the guest asked what he owed. The host did not see why he should not double the reckoning, and said the apprentice must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an end.
"Wait an instant, sir host," he said, "I will go and fetch some money;" but he took the table-cloth with him. The host could not imagine what this could mean, and being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted the stable-door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under the animal and cried,
"Bricklebrit," and at once the beast began to let gold pieces fall, so that it fairly rained down money on the ground.
"Eh, my word," said the host, "ducats are quickly coined there! A purse like that is not amiss."
The guest paid his score, and went to bed, but in the night the host stole down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and tied up another ass in his place. Early next morning the apprentice travelled away with his ass, and thought that he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in.
"What have you made of yourself, my son?" asked the old man.
"A miller," dear father, he answered.
"What have you brought back with you from your travels?"
"Nothing else but an ass."
"There are asses enough here," said the father, "I would rather have had a good goat."
"Yes," replied the son, "but it is no common ass, but a gold-ass, when I say
'Bricklebrit,' the good beast opens its mouth and drops a whole sheetful of gold pieces.
Just summon all our relations here, and I will make them rich folks."
"That suits me well," said the tailor, "for then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer with the needle," and ran out himself and called the relations together.
As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room.
"Now watch," he said, and cried, "Bricklebrit," but no gold pieces fell, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the art, for every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor miller pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There was no help for it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once more, and the youth hired himself to a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that is skilled labour, he was the longest in learning. His brothers, however, told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them, and how the innkeeper had cheated them of their beautiful wishing-gifts on the last evening before they reached home. When the turner had served his time, and had to set out on his travels, as he had conducted himself so well, his master presented him with a sack and said, "There is a cudgel in it."
"I can put on the sack," he said, "and it may be of good service to me, but why should the cudgel be in it? It only makes it heavy."
"I will tell you why," replied the master; "if anyone has done anything to injure you, do but say, 'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' and the cudgel will leap forth among the people, and play such a dance on their backs that they will not be able to stir or move for a week, and it will not leave off till you sayest, "Into the sack, Cudgel!" The apprentice thanked him, and put the sack on his back, and when anyone came too near him, and wished to attack him, he said, "Out of the sack, Cudgel!" and at once the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of one after the other on their backs, and never stopped till it had stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated. He laid his sack on the table before him, and began to talk of all the wonderful things which he had seen in the world.
"Yes," he said, "people may easily find a table which will cover itself, a gold-ass, and things of that kind – extremely good things which I by no means despise – but these are nothing in comparison with the treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying about with me in my sack there."
The inn-keeper pricked up his ears, "What in the world can that be?" thought he;
"the sack must be filled with nothing but jewels; I ought to get them cheap too, for all good things go in threes."
When it was time for sleep, the guest stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for a pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly draw it away and lay another in its place. The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a long time, and now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried, "Out of the sack, Cudgel!" At once the little cudgel came forth, and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing.
The host cried for mercy; but the louder he cried, so much more heavily the cudgel beat the time on his back, till at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, "If you do not give back the table which covers itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall begin afresh."
"Oh, no," cried the host, quite humbly, "I will gladly produce everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into the sack."
Then said the apprentice, "I will let mercy take the place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again!" So he cried, "Into the sack, Cudgel!" and let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign parts.
"Dear father," he said, "I have become a turner."
"A skilled trade," said the father. "What have you brought back with you from your travels?"
"A precious thing, dear father," replied the son, "a cudgel in the sack."
"What!" cried the father, "a cudgel! That's worth your trouble, indeed! From every tree you can cut yourself one."
"But not one like this, dear father. If I say, 'Out of the sack, Cudgel!' the cudgel springs out and leads anyone who means ill with me a weary dance, and never stops till he lies on the ground and prays for fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I got back the wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish inn-keeper took away from my brothers.
Now let them both be sent for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the bargain."
The old tailor would not quite believe, but nevertheless got the relatives together.
Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the gold-ass, and said to his brother,
"Now, dear brother, speak to him."
The miller said, "Bricklebrit," and at once the gold pieces fell down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop till every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see in your face that you also would like to be there.)
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, "Now dear brother, speak to it."
And scarcely had the carpenter said, "Table, cover yourself," than it was spread and amply covered with the most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole party of kinsmen stayed together till far in the night, and were all merry and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-measure and goose, in a press, and lived with his three sons in joy and splendour.
What, however, has become of the goat who was to blame for the tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell you. She was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away. A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said, "What is the matter with you, brother Fox, why do you look like that?"
"Ah," answered Redskin, "a fierce beast is in my cave and stared at me with its fiery eyes."
"We will soon drive him out," said the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in, but when he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise; he would have nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she said, "Bear, you are really pulling a very pitiful face; what has become of all your gaiety?"
"It is all very well for you to talk," replied the bear, "a furious beast with staring eyes is in Redskin's house, and we can't drive him out."
The bee said, "Bear I pity you, I am a poor weak creature whom you would not turn aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help you."
She flew into the fox's cave, lighted on the goat's smoothly-shorn head, and stung her so violently, that she sprang up, crying "Meh, meh," and ran forth into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she has gone.
~ೞ⬯ೞ~
Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill. [Buddha]
There was one on a time a great war, and when it came to an end, many soldiers were discharged. Then Brother Lustig also received his dismissal, and besides that, nothing but a small loaf of contract-bread, and four kreuzers in money, with which he departed. St. Peter had, however, placed himself in his way in the shape of a poor beggar, and when Brother
Lustig came up, he begged alms of him. Brother Lustig replied, "Dear beggar-man, what am I to give you? I have been a soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing but this little loaf of contract-bread, and four kreuzers of money; when that is gone, I shall have to beg as well as you. Still I will give you something." Thereupon he divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the apostle one of them, and a kreuzer likewise. St. Peter thanked him, went onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier's way as a beggar, but in another shape; and when he came up begged a gift of him as before. Brother Lustig spoke as he had done before, and again gave him a quarter of the loaf and one kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and went onwards, but for the third time placed himself in another shape as a beggar on the road, and spoke to Brother Lustig. Brother Lustig gave him also the third quarter of bread and the third kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and Brother Lustig went onwards, and had but a quarter of the loaf, and one kreuzer. With that he went into an inn, ate the bread, and ordered one kreuzer's worth of beer. When he had had it, he journeyed onwards, and then
St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance of a discharged soldier, met and spoke to him thus: "Good day, comrade, can you not give me a bit of bread, and a kreuzer to get a drink?"
"Where am I to procure it?" answered Brother Lustig; "I have been discharged, and I got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four kreuzers in money. I met three beggars on the road, and I gave each of them a quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer. The last quarter I ate in the inn, and had a drink with the last kreuzer. Now my pockets are empty, and if you also have nothing we can go a-begging together."
"No," answered St. Peter, "we need not quite do that. I know a little about medicine, and I will soon earn as much as I require by that."
"Indeed," said Brother Lustig, "I know nothing of that, so I must go and beg alone."
"Just come with me," said St. Peter, "and if I earn anything, you shall have half of it."
"All right," said Brother Lustig, so they went away together.
Then they came to a peasant's house inside which they heard loud lamentations and cries; so they went in, and there the husband was lying sick to death, and very near his end, and his wife was crying and weeping quite loudly.
"Stop that howling and crying," said St. Peter, "I will make the man well again," and he took a salve out of his pocket, and healed the sick man in a moment, so that he could get up, and was in perfect health. In great delight the man and his wife said, "How can we reward you? What shall we give you?" But St. Peter would take nothing, and the more the peasant folks offered him, the more he refused. Brother Lustig, however, nudged St. Peter, and said, "Take something; sure enough we are in need of it."
At length the woman brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he really must take that, but he would not. Then Brother Lustig gave him a poke in the side, and said, "Do take it, you stupid fool; we are in great want of it!" Then St. Peter said at last, "Well, I will take the lamb, but I won't carry it; if you will insist on having it, you must carry it."
"That is nothing," said Brother Lustig. "I will easily carry it," and took it on his shoulder. Then they departed and came to a wood, but Brother Lustig had begun to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to St. Peter, "Look, that's a good place, we might cook the lamb there, and eat it."
"As you like," answered St. Peter, "but I can't have anything to do with the cooking; if you will cook, there is a kettle for you, and in the meantime I will walk about a little till it is ready. You must, however, not begin to eat till I have come back, I will come at the right time."
"Well, go, then," said Brother Lustig, "I understand cookery, I will manage it."
Then St. Peter went away, and Brother Lustig killed the lamb, lighted a fire, threw the meat into the kettle, and boiled it. The lamb was, however, quite ready, and the apostle
Peter had not come back, so Brother Lustig took it out of the kettle, cut it up, and found the heart.
"That is said to be the best part," he said, and tasted it, but at last he ate it all up. At length St. Peter returned and said, "You may eat the whole of the lamb yourself, I will only have the heart, give me that."
Then Brother Lustig took a knife and fork, and pretended to look anxiously about amongst the lamb's flesh, but not to be able to find the heart, and at last he said abruptly, "There is none here."
"But where can it be?" said the apostle.
"I don't know," replied Brother Lustig, "but look, what fools we both are, to seek for the lamb's heart, and neither of us to remember that a lamb has no heart!"
"Oh," said St. Peter, "that is something quite new! Every animal has a heart, why is a lamb to have none?"
"No, be assured, my brother," said Brother Lustig, "that a lamb has no heart; just consider it seriously, and then you will see that it really has none."
"Well, it is all right," said St. Peter, "if there is no heart, then I want none of the lamb; you may eat it alone."
"What I can't eat now, I will carry away in my knapsack," said Brother Lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and put the rest in his knapsack.
They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great stream of water to flow right across their path, and they were obliged to pass through it. Said St. Peter, "Do you go first."
"No," answered Brother Lustig, "you must go first," and he thought, "if the water is too deep I will stay behind."
Then St. Peter strode through it, and the water just reached to his knee. So Brother
Lustig began to go through also, but the water grew deeper and reached to his throat. Then he cried, "Brother, help me!" St. Peter said, "Then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb's heart?"
"No," he said, "I have not eaten it."
Then the water grew deeper still and rose to his mouth.
"Help me, brother," cried the soldier. St. Peter said, "Then will you confess that you have eaten the lamb's heart?"
"No," he replied, "I have not eaten it."
St. Peter, however, would not let him be drowned, but made the water sink and helped him through it.
Then they journeyed onwards, and came to a kingdom where they heard that the king's daughter lay sick to death.
"Hollo, brother!" said the soldier to St. Peter, "this is a chance for us; if we can heal her we shall be provided for, for life!" But St. Peter was not half quick enough for him, "Come, lift your legs, my dear brother," he said, "that we may get there in time."
But St. Peter walked slower and slower, though Brother Lustig did all he could to drive and push him on, and at last they heard that the princess was dead.
"Now we are done for!" said Brother Lustig; "that comes of your sleepy way of walking!"
"Just be quiet," answered St. Peter, "I can do more than cure sick people; I can bring dead ones to life again."
"Well, if you can do that," said Brother Lustig, "it's all right, but you should earn at least half the kingdom for us by that."
Then they went to the royal palace, where every one was in great grief, but St.
Peter told the king that he would restore his daughter to life. He was taken to her, and said, "Bring me a kettle and some water," and when that was brought, he bade everyone go out, and allowed no one to remain with him but Brother Lustig. Then he cut off all the dead girl's limbs, and threw them in the water, lighted a fire beneath the kettle, and boiled them. And when the flesh had fallen away from the bones, he took out the beautiful white bones, and laid them on a table, and arranged them together in their natural order. When he had done that, he stepped forward and said three times, "In the name of the holy Trinity, dead woman, arise."
And at the third time, the princess arose, living, healthy and beautiful. Then the king was in the greatest joy, and said to St. Peter, "Ask for your reward; even if it were half my kingdom, I would give it you."
But St. Peter said, "I want nothing for it."
"Oh, you tomfool!" thought Brother Lustig to himself, and nudged his comrade's side, and said, "Don't be so stupid! If you have no need of anything, I have."
St. Peter, however, would have nothing, but as the king saw that the other would
very much like to have something, he ordered his treasurer to fill Brother Lustig's knapsack with gold. Then they went on their way, and when they came to a forest, St. Peter said to
Brother Lustig, "Now, we will divide the gold."
"Yes," he replied, "we will."
So St. Peter divided the gold, and divided it into three heaps. Brother Lustig thought to himself, "What craze has he got in his head now? He is making three shares, and there are only two of us!" But St. Peter said, "I have divided it exactly; there is one share for me, one for you, and one for him who ate the lamb's heart."
"Oh, I ate that!" replied Brother Lustig, and hastily swept up the gold. "You may trust what I say."
"But how can that be true," said St. Peter, "when a lamb has no heart?"
"Eh, what, brother, what can you be thinking of? Lambs have hearts like other animals, why should only they have none?"
"Well, so be it," said St. Peter, "keep the gold to yourself, but I will stay with you no longer; I will go my way alone."
"As you like, dear brother," answered Brother Lustig. "Farewell."
Then St. Peter went a different road, but Brother Lustig thought, "It is a good thing that he has taken himself off, he is certainly a strange saint, after all."
Then he had money enough, but did not know how to manage it, squandered it, gave it away, and and when some time had gone by, once more had nothing. Then he arrived in a certain country where he heard that a king's daughter was dead. "Oh, ho!" thought he, "that may be a good thing for me; I will bring her to life again, and see that I am paid as I ought to be."
So he went to the king, and offered to raise the dead girl to life again. Now the king had heard that a discharged soldier was traveling about and bringing dead persons to life again, and thought that Brother Lustig was the man; but as he had no confidence in him, he consulted his councillors first, who said that he might give it a trial as his daughter was dead. Then Brother Lustig ordered water to be brought to him in a kettle, bade every one go out, cut the limbs off, threw them in the water and lighted a fire beneath, just as he had seen St. Peter do. The water began to boil, the flesh fell off, and then he took the bones out and laid them on the table, but he did not know the order in which to lay them, and placed them all wrong and in confusion. Then he stood before them and said, "In the name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, I bid you arise," and he said this thrice, but the bones did not stir. So he said it thrice more, but also in vain: "Confounded girl that you are, get up!" cried he, "Get up, or it shall be worse for you!" When he had said that, St.
Peter suddenly appeared in his former shape as a discharged soldier; he entered by the window and said, "Godless man, what are you doing? How can the dead maiden arise, when you have thrown about her bones in such confusion?"
"Dear brother, I have done everything to the best of my ability," he answered.
"This once, I will help you out of your difficulty, but one thing I tell you, and that is that if ever you undertakest anything of the kind again, it will be the worse for you, and also that you must neither demand nor accept the smallest thing from the king for this!" Thereupon St. Peter laid the bones in their right order, said to the maiden three times, "In the name of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, arise," and the king's daughter arose, healthy and beautiful as before. Then St. Peter went away again by the window, and
Brother Lustig was rejoiced to find that all had passed off so well, but was very much vexed to think that after all he was not to take anything for it.
"I should just like to know," thought he, "what fancy that fellow has got in his head, for what he gives with one hand he takes away with the other there is no sense whatever in it!" Then the king offered Brother Lustig whatever he wished to have, but he did not dare to take anything; however, by hints and cunning, he contrived to make the king order his knapsack to be filled with gold for him, and with that he departed. When he got out, St. Peter was standing by the door, and said, "Just look what a man you are; did I not forbid you to take anything, and there you have your knapsack full of gold!"
"How can I help that," answered Brother Lustig, "if people will put it in for me?"
"Well, I tell you this, that if ever you settest about anything of this kind again you shall suffer for it!"
"Eh, brother, have no fear, now I have money, why should I trouble myself with washing bones?"
"Faith," said St. Peter, "the gold will last a long time! In order that after this you may never tread in forbidden paths, I will bestow on your knapsack this property, namely, that whatever you wish to have inside it, shall be there. Farewell, you will now never see me more."
"Good-bye," said Brother Lustig, and thought to himself, "I am very glad that you have taken yourself off, you strange fellow; I shall certainly not follow you."
But of the magical power which had been bestowed on his knapsack, he thought no more.
Brother Lustig travelled about with his money, and squandered and wasted what he had as before. When at last he had no more than four kreuzers, he passed by an inn and thought,
"The money must go," and ordered three kreuzers' worth of wine and one kreuzer's worth of bread for himself. As he was sitting there drinking, the smell of roast goose made its way to his nose. Brother Lustig looked about and peeped, and saw that the host had two geese standing in the oven. Then he remembered that his comrade had said that whatever he wished to have in his knapsack should be there, so he said, "Oh, ho! I must try that with the geese."
So he went out, and when he was outside the door, he said, "I wish those two roasted geese out of the oven and in my knapsack," and when he had said that, he unbuckled it and looked in, and there they were inside it.
"Ah, that's right!" he said, "now I am a made man!" and went away to a meadow and took out the roast meat. When he was in the midst of his meal, two journeymen came up and looked at the second goose, which was not yet touched, with hungry eyes. Brother Lustig thought to himself, "One is enough for me," and called the two men up and said, "Take the goose, and eat it to my health."
They thanked him, and went with it to the inn, ordered themselves a half bottle of wine and a loaf, took out the goose which had been given them, and began to eat. The hostess saw them and said to her husband, "Those two are eating a goose; just look and see if it is not one of ours, out of the oven."
The landlord ran there, and behold the oven was empty! "What!" cried he, "you thievish crew, you want to eat goose as cheap as that? Pay for it this moment; or I will wash you well with green hazel-sap."
The two said, "We are no thieves, a discharged soldier gave us the goose, outside there in the meadow."
"You shall not throw dust in my eyes that way! the soldier was here but he went out by the door, like an honest fellow. I looked after him myself; you are the thieves and shall pay!" But as they could not pay, he took a stick, and cudgeled them out of the house.
Brother Lustig went his way and came to a place where there was a magnificent castle, and not far from it a wretched inn. He went to the inn and asked for a night's lodging, but the landlord turned him away, and said, "There is no more room here, the house is full of noble guests."
"It surprises me that they should come to you and not go to that splendid castle," said Brother Lustig.
"Ah, indeed," replied the host, "but it is no slight matter to sleep there for a night; no one who has tried it so far, has ever come out of it alive."
"If others have tried it," said Brother Lustig, "I will try it too."
"Leave it alone," said the host, "it will cost you your neck."
"It won't kill me at once," said Brother Lustig, "just give me the key, and some good food and wine."
So the host gave him the key, and food and wine, and with this Brother Lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on the ground, for there was no bed. He soon fell asleep, but during the night was disturbed by a great noise, and when he awoke, he saw nine ugly devils in the room, who had made a circle, and were dancing around him. Brother Lustig said, "Well, dance as long as you like, but none of you must come too close."
But the devils pressed continually nearer to him, and almost stepped on his face with their hideous feet.
"Stop, you devils' ghosts," he said, but they behaved still worse. Then Brother
Lustig grew angry, and cried, "Hola! but I will soon make it quiet," and got the leg of a chair and struck out into the midst of them with it. But nine devils against one soldier were still too many, and when he struck those in front of him, the others seized him behind by the hair, and tore it unmercifully.
"Devils' crew," cried he, "it is getting too bad, but wait. Into my knapsack, all nine of you!" In an instant they were in it, and then he buckled it up and threw it into a corner. After this all was suddenly quiet, and Brother Lustig lay down again, and slept till it was bright day. Then came the inn-keeper, and the nobleman to whom the castle belonged, to see how he had fared; but when they perceived that he was merry and well they were astonished, and asked, "Have the spirits done you no harm, then?"
"The reason why they have not," answered Brother Lustig, "is because I have got the whole nine of them in my knapsack! You may once more inhabit your castle quite tranquilly, none of them will ever haunt it again."
The nobleman thanked him, made him rich presents, and begged him to remain in his service, and he would provide for him as long as he lived.
"No," replied Brother Lustig, "I am used to wandering about, I will travel farther."
Then he went away, and entered into a smithy, laid the knapsack, which contained the nine devils on the anvil, and asked the smith and his apprentices to strike it. So they smote with their great hammers with all their strength, and the devils uttered howls which were quite pitiable. When he opened the knapsack after this, eight of them were dead, but one which had been lying in a fold of it, was still alive, slipped out, and went back again to hell. Thereupon Brother Lustig travelled a long time about the world, and those who know them can tell many a story about him, but at last he grew old, and thought of his end, so he went to a hermit who was known to be a pious man, and said to him, "I am tired of wandering about, and want now to behave in such a manner that I shall enter into the kingdom of
Heaven."
The hermit replied, "There are two roads, one is broad and pleasant, and leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough, and leads to heaven."
"I should be a fool," thought Brother Lustig, "if I were to take the narrow, rough road."
So he set out and took the broad and pleasant road, and at length came to a great black door, which was the door of Hell. Brother Lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out to see who was there. But when he saw Brother Lustig, he was terrified, for he was the very same ninth devil who had been shut up in the knapsack, and had escaped from it with a black eye. So he pushed the bolt in again as quickly as he could, ran to the devil's lieutenant, and said, "There is a fellow outside with a knapsack, who wants to come in, but as you value your lives don't allow him to enter, or he will wish the whole of hell into his knapsack. He once gave me a frightful hammering when I was inside it." So they called out to
Brother Lustig that he was to go away again, for he should not get in there! "If they won't have me here," thought he, "I will see if I can find a place for myself in heaven, for I must be somewhere."
So he turned about and went onwards till he came to the door of Heaven, where he knocked. St. Peter was sitting hard by as door-keeper. Brother Lustig recognised him at once, and thought, "Here I find an old friend, I shall get on better."
But St. Peter said, "I really believe that you wantest to come into
Heaven."
"Let me in, brother; I must get in somewhere; if they would have taken me into Hell, I should not have come here."
"No," said St. Peter, "you shall not enter."
"Then if you will not let me in, take your knapsack back, for I will have nothing at all from you."
"Give it here, then," said St. Peter. Then Brother Lustig gave him the knapsack into
Heaven through the bars, and St. Peter took it, and hung it beside his seat. Then said
Brother Lustig, "And now I wish myself inside my knapsack," and in a second he was in it, and in Heaven, and St. Peter was forced to let him stay there.
