<h3><SPAN name="chap182"></SPAN>182 The Little Folks’ Presents</h3>
<p>A tailor and a goldsmith were travelling together, and one evening when the sun
had sunk behind the mountains, they heard the sound of distant music, which
became more and more distinct. It sounded strange, but so pleasant that they
forgot all their weariness and stepped quickly onwards. The moon had already
arisen when they reached a hill on which they saw a crowd of little men and
women, who had taken each other’s hands, and were whirling round in the
dance with the greatest pleasure and delight.</p>
<p>They sang to it most charmingly, and that was the music which the travellers
had heard. In the midst of them sat an old man who was rather taller than the
rest. He wore a parti-coloured coat, and his iron-grey beard hung down over his
breast. The two remained standing full of astonishment, and watched the dance.
The old man made a sign that they should enter, and the little folks willingly
opened their circle. The goldsmith, who had a hump, and like all hunchbacks was
brave enough, stepped in; the tailor felt a little afraid at first, and held
back, but when he saw how merrily all was going, he plucked up his courage, and
followed. The circle closed again directly, and the little folks went on
singing and dancing with the wildest leaps. The old man, however, took a large
knife which hung to his girdle, whetted it, and when it was sufficiently
sharpened, he looked round at the strangers. They were terrified, but they had
not much time for reflection, for the old man seized the goldsmith and with the
greatest speed, shaved the hair of his head clean off, and then the same thing
happened to the tailor. But their fear left them when, after he had finished
his work, the old man clapped them both on the shoulder in a friendly manner,
as much as to say, they had behaved well to let all that be done to them
willingly, and without any struggle. He pointed with his finger to a heap of
coals which lay at one side, and signified to the travellers by his gestures
that they were to fill their pockets with them. Both of them obeyed, although
they did not know of what use the coals would be to them, and then they went on
their way to seek a shelter for the night. When they had got into the valley,
the clock of the neighbouring monastery struck twelve, and the song ceased. In
a moment all had vanished, and the hill lay in solitude in the moonlight.</p>
<p>The two travellers found an inn, and covered themselves up on their straw-beds
with their coats, but in their weariness forgot to take the coals out of them
before doing so. A heavy weight on their limbs awakened them earlier than
usual. They felt in the pockets, and could not believe their eyes when they saw
that they were not filled with coals, but with pure gold; happily, too, the
hair of their heads and beards was there again as thick as ever.</p>
<p>They had now become rich folks, but the goldsmith, who, in accordance with his
greedy disposition, had filled his pockets better, was as rich again as the
tailor. A greedy man, even if he has much, still wishes to have more, so the
goldsmith proposed to the tailor that they should wait another day, and go out
again in the evening in order to bring back still greater treasures from the
old man on the hill. The tailor refused, and said, “I have enough and am
content; now I shall be a master, and marry my dear object (for so he called
his sweetheart), and I am a happy man.” But he stayed another day to
please him. In the evening the goldsmith hung a couple of bags over his
shoulders that he might be able to stow away a great deal, and took the road to
the hill. He found, as on the night before, the little folks at their singing
and dancing, and the old man again shaved him clean, and signed to him to take
some coal away with him. He was not slow about sticking as much into his bags
as would go, went back quite delighted, and covered himself over with his coat.
“Even if the gold does weigh heavily,” said he, “I will
gladly bear that,” and at last he fell asleep with the sweet anticipation
of waking in the morning an enormously rich man.</p>
<p>When he opened his eyes, he got up in haste to examine his pockets, but how
amazed he was when he drew nothing out of them but black coals, and that
howsoever often he put his hands in them. “The gold I got the night
before is still there for me,” thought he, and went and brought it out,
but how shocked he was when he saw that it likewise had again turned into coal.
He smote his forehead with his dusty black hand, and then he felt that his
whole head was bald and smooth, as was also the place where his beard should
have been. But his misfortunes were not yet over; he now remarked for the first
time that in addition to the hump on his back, a second, just as large, had
grown in front on his breast. Then he recognized the punishment of his
greediness, and began to weep aloud. The good tailor, who was wakened by this,
comforted the unhappy fellow as well as he could, and said, “Thou hast
been my comrade in my travelling time; thou shalt stay with me and share in my
wealth.” He kept his word, but the poor goldsmith was obliged to carry
the two humps as long as he lived, and to cover his bald head with a cap.</p>
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