The host cried for mercy. But the louder he cried, the harder the cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, if you do not give back the table which spreads 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 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 certainly worth your trouble. 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 ill-disposed toward 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 rescued 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 had not much confidence. Nevertheless he summoned 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 pices rained 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 by your face that you also would have liked 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, spread 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 closet, and lived with his three sons in joy and splendor.
What, however, happened to 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.
There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and spun. Then said he, how sad it is that we have no children. With us all is so quiet, and in other houses it is noisy and lively.
Yes, replied the wife, and sighed, even if we had only one, and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.
Now it so happened that the woman fell ill, and after seven months gave birth to a child, that was perfect in all its limbs, but no longer than a thumb. Then said they, it is as we wished it to be, and it shall be our dear child. And because of its size, they called it thumbling. Though they did not let it want for food, the child did not grow taller, but remained as it had been at the first. Nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its eyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature, for everything it did turned out well.
One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut wood, when he said as if to himself, how I wish that there was someone who would bring the cart to me. Oh father, cried thumbling, I will soon bring the cart, rely on that. It shall be in the forest at the appointed time. The man smiled and said, how can that be done, you are far too small to lead the horse by the reins. That's of no consequence, father, if my mother will only harness it, I shall sit in the horse's ear and call out to him how he is to go. Well, answered the man, for once we will try it.
When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed thumbling in its ear, and then the little creature cried, gee up, gee up.