The Cowherd and the Goblin

When Saemund was priest of Oddi, he once had a cowherd who was a good servant, but greatly addicted to swearing. Saemund often reproved him for this, but it was of no avail. At last he told his servant that he really ought to leave off his bad habit. It could be for his own good.

"Is that what you say?" said the cowherd. "Well, I would not say a bad word any more if I knew for sure that evil beings would lose in power by it." There and then he made up his mind to mend his ways and see if any changes that he got aware of, might follow.

"I'll soon find out whether you are in earnest or not," said Saemund, and lodged a goblin in the cowhouse. The cowherd did not like this guest, and no wonder: for he was up to every kind of mischief, and almost worried the life out of him with his wicked pranks. The poor cowherd bore up bravely for a time, and never let slip an oath or angry word. And the goblin got leaner day by day, to the intense delight of the cowherd, who hoped, bye and bye, to see an end of him.

One morning, on opening the byre door, the poor cowherd found everything turned topsy-turvy. The milk pails and stools were broken in pieces and scattered about the floor; and all the cows were tied tail to tail and straggling about without halters, goring each other.

Shrunk and haggard, the wretched goblin lay crouched up in a corner of a stall. In a rage the cowherd turned round to the goblin and cursed him for the mischief as seemed fit at the time. But the goblin at once began to revive; his skin became smooth and plump; his eyes brightened up, and more life flowed through his veins.

"O, oh!" said the cowherd and suddenly checked himself when he saw the effect his swearing had on the goblin: "I should say Saemund had a point!"

From that day forward the cowherd was never known to utter an oath, and the goblin soon pined away again and has not been known to trouble anybody at Oddi since.