LITMIR.BIZ

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must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an end. “Wait an instant, sir host,” said he, “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 immediately 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 hast thou made of thyself, my son?” asked the old man. “A miller,” dear father, he answered. “What hast thou brought back with thee from thy 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 hither, 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,” said he, 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,” said he, “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 thee why,” replied the master; “if any one has done anything to injure thee, 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 until thou sayest, ‘Into the sack, Cudgel!’” The apprentice thanked him, and put the sack on his back, and when any one came too near him, and wished to attack him, he said, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!” and instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until 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,” said he, “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 innkeeper 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 innkeeper 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 innkeeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried, “Out of the sack, Cudgel!” Instantly the little cudgel came forth, and fell on the innkeeper 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, until at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, “If thou dost 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,” said he, “I have become a turner.” “A skilled trade,” said the father. “What hast thou brought back with thee from thy travels?”

      “A precious thing, dear father,” replied the son, “a cudgel in the sack.”

      “What!” cried the father, “a cudgel! That’s worth thy trouble, indeed! From every tree thou can cut thyself one.” “But not one like this, dear father. If I say, ‘Out of the sack, Cudgel!’ the cudgel springs out and leads any one who means ill with me a weary dance, and never stops until 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 innkeeper 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 instantly the gold pieces fell down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see in thy face that thou also wouldst 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 thyself,” 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 thee. 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 thee, brother Fox, why dost thou 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, thou art really pulling a very pitiful face; what has become of all thy gaiety?” “It is all very well for thee 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 thee, I am a poor weak creature whom thou wouldst not turn aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help thee.” 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.)

37 Thumbling

      There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire,

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