The Jew among the Thorns

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THERE was once a rich Man, and he had a Servant who served him well and faithfully. He was first up in the morning, and last to go to bed at night. If there was any hard work to be done which no one else would do, he was always ready to undertake it. He never made any complaint, but was always merry and content.

When his year of service was over, his Master did not give him any wages, thinking: ‘This is my wisest plan. I save by it, and he is not likely to run away.’

The Servant said nothing, and served the second year like the first. And when at the end of the second he again received no wages, he still appeared contented, and stayed on. When the third year had passed, the Master bethought himself, and put his hand into his pocket, but he brought it out empty.

At last the Servant said: ‘Master, I have served you well and truly for three years; please pay me my wages. I want to go away and look about the world a bit.’

The Miser answered: ‘Yes, my good fellow, you have served me honestly, and you shall be liberally rewarded.’

Again he put his hand into his pocket, and counted three farthings, one by one, into the Servant’s hand, and said: ‘There, you have a farthing for every year; that is better wages than you would get from most masters.’

The good Servant, who knew little about money, put away his fortune, and thought: ‘Now my pocket is well filled, I need no longer trouble myself about work.’ Then he left and went singing down the hill, and dancing, in the lightness of his heart. Now it so happened that as he was passing a thicket, that a little Mannikin came out and cried: ‘Whither away, my merry fellow? I see your troubles are not too heavy to be borne.’

‘Why should I be sad?’ answered the Servant. ‘I have three years’ wages in my pocket.’

‘And how much is your treasure?’ asked the Mannikin.

‘How much? Why, three good farthings.’

‘Listen!’ said the Mannikin. ‘I am a poor needy fellow; give me your three farthings. I can’t work any more; but you are young, and can easily earn your bread.’

Now the Servant had a good heart, and he was sorry for the poor little man, so he gave him his three farthings, and said:

‘Take them, in the name of heaven! I shall not miss them.’

‘Then,’ said the Mannikin, ‘I see what a good heart you have. I will give you three wishes, one for each farthing; and every wish shall be fulfilled.’

‘Aha!’ said the Servant, ‘you are a wonder-worker I see. Very well, then. First, I wish for a gun which will hit everything I aim at; secondly, for a fiddle which will make every one dance when I play; and, thirdly, if I ask anything of any one, that he shall not be able to refuse my request.’

‘You shall have them all,’ said the Mannikin, diving into the bushes, where, wonderful to relate, lay the gun and the fiddle ready, just as if they had been ordered beforehand. He gave them to the Servant, and said: ‘No one will be able to refuse anything you ask.’

‘Heart alive! what more can one desire,’ said the Servant to himself, as he went merrily on.

Soon after, he met a Jew with a long goat’s beard, who was standing still listening to the song of a bird sitting on the top of a tree. ‘Good heavens!’ he was saying, ‘what a tremendous noise such a tiny creature makes. If only it were mine! If one could but put some salt upon its tail!’

‘If that is all,’ said the Servant, ‘the bird shall soon come down.’ He took aim, and down fell the bird into a quickset hedge.

‘Go, you rogue,’ he said to the Jew, ‘and pick up the bird.’

‘Leave out the “rogue,” young man. I will get the bird sure enough, as you have killed it for me,’ said the Jew.

He lay down on the ground and began to creep into the hedge.

The Jew is tangled in the thorns

The Jew was forced to spring up and begin to dance.

When he had got well among the thorns, a spirit of mischief seized the Servant, and he began to play his fiddle with all his might. The Jew was forced to spring up and begin to dance, and the more the Servant played, the faster he had to dance. The thorns tore his shabby coat, combed his goat’s beard, and scratched him all over.

‘Merciful Heavens!’ cried the Jew. ‘Leave off that fiddling! I don’t want to dance, my good fellow.’

But the Servant paid no attention to him, but thought: ‘You have fleeced plenty of people in your time, my man, and the thorns shan’t spare you now!’ And he played on and on, so that the Jew had to jump higher and higher, till his coat hung in ribbons about him.

‘I cry “enough!”’ screamed the Jew. ‘I will give you anything you like if you will only stop. Take the purse, it is full of gold.’

‘Oh, well, if you are so open-handed,’ said the Servant, ‘I am quite ready to stop my music, but I must say in praise of your dancing, that it has quite a style of its own.’ Then he took the purse and went on his way.

The Jew stood still looking after him till he was a good way off, then he screamed with all his might: ‘You miserable fiddler! Just you wait till I find you alone! I will chase you till the soles of your shoes drop off—you rascal!’ And he went on pouring out a stream of abuse. Having relieved himself by so doing, he hurried off to the Judge in the nearest town.

‘Just look here, your worship,’ he said, ‘look how I have been attacked, and ill-treated, and robbed on the high road by a wretch. My condition might melt the heart of a stone; my clothes and my body torn and scratched, and my purse with all my poor little savings taken away from me. All my beautiful ducats, each one prettier than the other. Oh dear! Oh dear! For heaven’s sake, put the wretch in prison.’

The Judge said: ‘Was it a soldier who punished you so with his sword?’

‘Heaven preserve us!’ cried the Jew, ‘he had no sword, but he had a gun on his shoulder and a fiddle round his neck. The villain is easily to be recognised.’

So the Judge sent out men in pursuit of the honest Servant, who had walked on slowly. They soon overtook him, and the purse of gold was found on him. When he was brought before the Judge, he said—

‘I never touched the Jew, nor did I take his money away; he offered it to me of his own free will if I would only stop playing, because he could not bear my music.’ ‘Heaven defend us!’ screamed the Jew, ‘his lies are as thick as flies on the wall.’

And the Judge did not believe him either, and said:

‘That is a very lame excuse; no Jew ever did such a thing.’ So he sentenced the honest Servant to the gallows for having committed a robbery upon the king’s highway.

When he was being led away, the Jew screamed after him; ‘You vagabond, you dog of a fiddler, now you will get your deserts!’

The Servant mounted the ladder to the gallows quite quietly, with the halter round his neck; but at the last rung he turned round and said to the Judge: ‘Grant me one favour before I die.’

‘Certainly,’ said the Judge, ‘as long as you don’t ask for your life.’

‘Not my life,’ answered the Servant. ‘I only ask to play my fiddle once more.’

A man's shoe flies off as he kicks his leg

Dancing as hard as he could.

The Jew raised a tremendous cry. ‘Don’t allow it, your worship, for heaven’s sake, don’t allow it!’

But the Judge said: ‘Why should I deny him that short pleasure? His wish is granted, and there’s an end of the matter!’

He could not have refused even if he had wished, because of the Mannikin’s gift to the Servant.

The Jew screamed, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! Tie me tight, tie me tight!’

The good Servant took his fiddle from his neck, and put it into position, and at the first chord everybody began to wag their heads, the Judge, his Clerk, and all the Officers of Justice, and the rope fell out of the hand of the man about to bind the Jew.

At the second scrape, they all lifted their legs, and the Hangman let go his hold of the honest Servant, to make ready to dance.

At the third scrape they one and all leapt into the air, and began to caper about, the Judge and the Jew at the head, and they all leapt their best.

Soon, every one who had come to the market-place out of curiosity, old and young, fat and lean, were dancing as hard as they could; even the dogs got upon their hind legs, and pranced about with the rest. The longer he played, the higher they jumped, till they knocked their heads together, and made each other cry out.

At last the Judge, quite out of breath, cried: ‘I will give you your life, if only you will stop playing.’

The honest Servant allowed himself to be prevailed upon, laid his fiddle aside, and came down the ladder. Then he went up to the Jew, who lay upon the ground gasping, and said to him:

‘You rascal, confess where you got the money, or I will begin to play again.’

‘I stole it! I stole it!’ he screamed; ‘but you have honestly earned it.’

The Judge then ordered the Jew to the gallows to be hanged as a thief.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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