The Treasure Chest Page 4

  ‘You’re an utter villain,’ said the landlord, ‘and don’t deserve this. But you can have the meal for nothing and take this twenty-four kreuzer bit as well. Just keep quiet about it and go over to my neighbour who keeps the Bear and try the same trick on him!’ He said this because he had had a quarrel with his neighbour and resented his success and each was keen to do the other down.

  But the artful customer smiled as he took the money he was offered in his one hand and reached carefully for the door with the other, wished the innkeeper good afternoon, and said, ‘I went to the Bear first, it was the landlord there who sent me over here!’

  So really both of the innkeepers had been tricked; the cunning customer took advantage of their quarrel. Yet he might have also earned a further reward, grateful thanks from both of them, if they had learnt the right lesson from it and had made things up between them. For peace pays, whereas quarrels have to be paid for.

  Dinner Outside

  We often complain how difficult or impossible it is to get on with certain people. That may of course be true. But many such people are not bad but only strange, and if you got to know them well with all their ins and outs and learnt to deal with them properly, neither too wilfully nor too indulgently, then many of them might easily be brought to their senses. After all, one servant did manage to do that with his master. Sometimes he could do nothing right by him and, as often happens in such situations, was blamed for many things that were not his fault.

  Thus one day his master came home in a very bad mood and sat down to dinner. The soup was too hot or too cold for him, or neither; no matter, he was in a bad mood! So he picked up the dish and threw it and its contents out of the open window into the yard below. So what do you think the servant did? He didn’t hesitate, he threw the meat he was bringing to table down into the yard after the soup, then the bread, the wine, and finally the tablecloth and everything on it, all down into the yard too. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ said his master angrily and rose threateningly to his feet. But the servant replied quietly and calmly, ‘Pardon me if I misunderstood your wishes. I thought you wanted to eat outside today. The air’s warm, the sky’s blue, and look how lovely the apple blossom is and how happy the bees are sipping at the flowers!’ Never again would the soup go out through the window! His master saw he was wrong, cheered up at the sight of the beautiful spring day, smiled to himself at his man’s quick thinking, and in his heart he was grateful to him for teaching him a lesson.

  The Clever Judge

  Not everything that happens in the East is so wrong. We are told the following event took place there. A rich man had been careless and lost a large sum of money sewn up in a cloth. He made his loss known, and in the usual way offered a reward for its return, in this case a hundred thalers. Soon a good honest man came to see him. ‘I have found your money,’ he said. ‘This must be yours.’ He had the open look of an upright fellow with a clear conscience, and that was good. The rich man looked happy too, but only at seeing his precious money again. As for his honesty,

  that we shall see! He counted the money and worked out quickly how he could cheat this man of the promised reward. ‘My friend,’ he said, ‘there were in fact eight hundred thalers sewn up in this cloth. But I can find only seven hundred. So I take it you must have cut open a corner and taken your one hundred thalers’ reward. You acted quite properly. I thank you!’ That was not good. But we haven’t got to the end yet. Honesty is the best policy, and wrongdoing never proves right. The honest man who had found the money and who was less concerned for his reward than for his blameless name protested that he had found the packet just as he handed it over, and had handed over exactly what he had found. In the end they appeared in court. Both of

  them stuck to their stories, one that eight hundred thalers were sewn up in the cloth, the other that he had left the packet just as he found it and had taken nothing from it. It was hard to know what to do. But the clever judge, who seemed from the outset to recognize the honesty of the one and the bad faith of the other, approached the problem as follows. He had both swear their statements on solemn oath, and then passed the following judgement: ‘Since one of you lost eight hundred thalers and the other found a packet containing only seven hundred, the package found by that second party cannot be the one to which the first party has just claim. You, my honest friend, take back the money you found and put it into safe keeping until the person who lost only seven hundred thalers makes himself known. And you I can only advise to be patient until someone says he has found your eight hundred thalers.’ That was his judgement, and that was final.

  The Artful Hussar

  A hussar in the last war knew that the farmer he met on the road had just sold his hay for a hundred guilders and was on his way home with the money. So he asked him for something to buy tobacco and brandy. Who knows, he might have been happy with a few coppers. But the farmer swore black and blue he had spent his last kreuzer in the nearby village and had nothing left. ‘If we weren’t so far from my quarters,’ said the hussar, ‘we could both be helped out of this difficulty; but you have nothing, and neither have I; so we’ll just have to go to Saint Alphonsus! We’ll share what he gives us like brothers.’ This Saint Alphonsus stood carved from stone in an old, little frequented chapel in the fields. At first the farmer was not too keen to make the pilgrimage. But the hussar allowed no objection, and on the way he was so vigorous in his assurances that Saint Alphonsus had never let him down when

  in need that the farmer began to cherish hopes himself. So you think the hussar’s comrade and accomplice was hiding in the deserted chapel, do you? Not a bit of it! No one was there, only the stone figure of Alphonsus, and they knelt before him, and the hussar appeared to be praying fervently. ‘This is it!’ he whispered to the farmer, ‘the saint has just beckoned to me.’ He got to his feet and went to put his ear to the lips of stone and came back delighted. ‘He’s given me a guilder, he says it’s in my purse!’ And indeed to the other’s amazement the hussar took out a guilder, but one that he had had there all the time, and shared it like a brother as promised. That made sense to the farmer and he agreed that the hussar should try again. All went just as before. This time the hussar was even happier when he came back to the farmer. ‘Now Saint Alphonsus has given us a hundred guilders all in one go! They’re in your purse.’ The farmer turned deadly white when he heard this and repeated his protests that he had no money at all. But the hussar persuaded him he must trust Saint Alphonsus and just take a look; Alfonsus had never deceived him! So whether he liked it or not he had to turn his pockets inside out and empty them. Then the hundred guilders appeared all right, and since he had taken half of the hussar’s guilder it was no use pleading and imploring, he had to share his hundred.

  That was all very artful and cunning, but that doesn’t make it right, especially in a chapel.

  The Mole

  Of all the animals that suckle their young the mole is the only one that searches for its food alone in dark tunnels underground.

  And that one fact is more than enough, some of you will say, and you’re thinking of your fields and meadows, and how they are covered with molehills and the earth disturbed and riddled with holes, and how the plants above die off when that dastardly animal eats their roots down below!

  So let’s now bring the culprit to trial!

  It’s true and can’t be denied that in certain places it disturbs and loosens the soil as it burrows its runs underground.

  It is also true that the mounds it throws up cover much fertile ground, hinder the growth of the shoots underneath and can even smother them. Yet that can be put right by a diligent hand with a rake.

  But which of you has seen a mole eating the roots? Who can say it does that?

  Well, this is what people say: Wherever the roots are eaten and the plants die off, there you’ll find moles; and where there are no moles it doesn’t happen. So it must be the moles! Those who say that are presumably the same people
who used to say: If the frogs croak early in spring the leaves will open early too; but if the frogs stay quiet the buds won’t open; therefore the frogs’ croaking opens the leaves! See how people can be wrong!

  But we have now in this court a lawyer to speak in defence of moles, he’s an experienced farmer and a naturalist, and he says:

  ‘It’s not the mole that eats the roots, but the grubs or white worms under ground which later change into cockchafers or other insects. The mole eats the grubs and rids the soil of these pests.’

  So now we can see why moles are found wherever the grass and the plants are sickly and dying off: it is because they are after the grubs there. And then the mole is blamed for the damage done by the grubs and is rewarded with a curse and a death sentence for helping the farmer!

  ‘That’s another of those stories dreamt up indoors or read in books,’ you’ll be saying, ‘by someone who has never set eyes on a mole!’

  But wait a moment! The man we’ve just heard knows the mole better than any of you, better than your expert molecatchers, as you will see. For you can make two tests to check if he is telling the truth.

  First, you can look at the mole’s mouth. For all four-legged creatures or mammals made by nature to nibble at roots have in each jaw, upper and lower, just two sharp front teeth, and no eyeteeth at all, but a gap in front of the grinders. Whereas all beasts of prey that catch and eat other animals have six or more pointed front teeth, with eyeteeth on each side, and a row of grinders behind them. Now, if you inspect a mole’s jaws you will find this: it has six sharp front teeth in the upper jaw and eight in the lower, and eyeteeth behind them on each side, top and bottom. That means it is not an animal that gnaws at roots but a small animal of prey that eats other animals.

  Second, you can cut open the belly of a dead mole and see what is inside. What it eats must go into its belly, it must have eaten what’s in its stomach! Now, if you make this test you’ll never find anything like root fibres in the mole’s stomach, but you will always find the skins of white worms, earthworms and other pests that live in the ground.

  How does the case look now?

  If you put yourself out to make life hard for moles and try to get rid of them then you are doing yourself great harm and the white worms a big favour. Then they can safely ravage your meadows and fields, they’ll grow big and fat, and in spring the cockchafers will appear, eat your trees as bare as birch-brooms, and you’ll have the devil to pay.

  That’s how the case stands!

  The Dentist

  Two loafers who had been roaming around the country together for some time because they were too lazy to work or had learnt no trade finally got into a tight corner because they had no money left, and they saw no quick way of getting any. Then they had this idea: they went begging at doors for bread which they intended to use, not to fill their stomachs, but to stage a trick. For they kneaded and rolled it into little balls and coated them with the dust from old, rotten worm-eaten wood so that they looked just like yellow pills from the chemist. Then for a couple of pence they bought some sheets of red paper at the bookbinder’s (for a pretty colour often helps take people in). Next they cut up the paper and wrapped the pills in it, six or eight to a little packet. Then one of them went on ahead to a village where there was a fair and into the Red Lion where he hoped to find a good crowd. He ordered a glass of wine, but he didn’t drink it but sat sadly in a corner holding his face in his hand, moaning under his breath and fidgeting and turning this way and that. The good farmers and townsfolk in the inn thought the poor fellow must have terrible toothache. Yet what could they do? They pitied him, they consoled him, saying it would soon go away, then went back to their drinks and their market-day affairs. Meanwhile the other idler came in. The two scoundrels pretended they had never seen each other in their lives before. They didn’t look at each other until the one seemed to react to the other’s moans in the corner.

  ‘My friend,’ he said, ‘have you got toothache?’ and he strode slowly over to him. ‘I am Dr Schnauzius Rapunzius from Trafalgar,’ he continued. Such resounding foreign names help take people in too, you know, like pretty colours. ‘If you take my tooth pills,’ he went on, ‘I can easily get rid of the pain, one of them will do the trick, at most two.’ ‘Please God you’re right!’ said the other rogue. So now the fine doctor Rapunzius took one of the red packets from his pocket and prescribed one pill, to be placed on the tongue and bitten on firmly. The customers at the other tables now craned their necks and one by one they came over to observe the miracle cure. You can imagine what happened! But no, the first bite seemed to do the patient no good at all, he gave a terrible scream. The doctor was pleased! They had, he said, got the better of the pain, and quickly he gave him the second pill to be taken likewise. Now suddenly the pain had all gone. The patient jumped for joy, wiped the sweat from his brow, though there was none there, and pretended to show his thanks by pressing more than a trifling sum into his saviour’s hand. The trick was artfully done and had its desired effect. For all those present now wanted some of these excellent pills too. The doctor offered them at twenty-four kreuzers a packet, and they were all sold in a few minutes. Of course the two scoundrels now left separately one after the other, met up to laugh at the people’s stupidity, and had a good time on their money.

  The fools had paid dear for a few crumbs of bread! Even in times of famine you never got so little for twenty-four kreuzers. But the waste of money was not the worst part of it. For in time the pellets of breadcrumbs naturally became as hard as stone. So when a year later a poor dupe had toothache and confidently bit on a pill with the offending tooth, once and then again, just imagine the awful pain that he had got himself for twenty-four kreuzers instead of a cure!

  From this we can learn how easy it is to be tricked if you believe what is told you by any vagrant whom you meet for the first time in your life, have never seen before and will never see again. Some of you who read this will perhaps be thinking: ‘I was once silly like that too and brought suffering on myself!’

  Remember: Those who can, earn their money elsewhere and don’t go around villages and fairs with holes in their stockings, or a white buckle on one shoe and a yellow one on the other.

  Two Stories

  How easily some people can be annoyed and lose their tempers over trifles, and how easily these same people can be brought to their senses by an unexpected quick-thinking reaction. That we saw in the example of the quick-witted servant whose master threw the soup out of the window. The following two stories teach a similar lesson.

  A street urchin asked an elegantly dressed passer-by for a penny, and when he turned a deaf ear he promised to show him for a penny how you can get angry and abusive and violent. As you read this many of you will be saying to yourselves that’s not worth a farthing let alone a penny, for abuse and violence are bad, not good at all! But it’s worth more than you think! For if you know how something bad can come about you also know how to stop it happening. This man must have thought that too, for he gave the boy a penny. But the urchin now demanded another penny, and when he got that, a third and fourth, and finally a sixth. And when he wouldn’t even then do his piece the man lost patience. He called the boy a shameless beggar, threatened to chase him off with his stick, and in the end he did indeed strike him more than once. ‘You ill-mannered brute you,’ cried the boy, ‘you’re old enough to know better! Didn’t I promise to teach you how you get abusive and violent? Haven’t you given me sixpence to do just that? Now you are violent, and you can see how that came about! So why are you hitting me?’ Much as the good man disliked this turn of events he saw that the cunning lad was right and he was wrong. He calmed down, took it as a warning never to flare up like that again and thought the lesson he had been given was indeed worth sixpence.

  A citizen in another town was hurrying down the street, looking very serious. You could tell he had something important to attend to. The town magistrate, who must have been a prying and quick-tem
pered man, was passing that way, the bailiff at his heels. where are you off to in such a hurry?’ he said to the citizen, who answered very calmly, ‘Your Honour, I don’t know that myself.’ ‘But you don’t look as if you’re just out for a stroll! You must have something important to attend to!’ ‘That may be,’ the citizen continued, ‘but I swear I don’t know where I’m going.’ The magistrate was now greatly annoyed. Perhaps he also suspected that the man was up to no good and couldn’t admit it. Anyway, in all seriousness he threatened to take him straight off the street into prison if he wouldn’t say where he was going. But that got him nowhere, and in the end the magistrate really did order the bailiff to take this obstinate fellow away. But then the man, who had his wits about him, said, ‘Now, Your Honour, you can see that I was telling the truth! How could I have known a minute ago that I was on the way to jail? And can I be certain even now that that’s where I’m going?’ ‘No, you can’t’ said the magistrate, ‘and you shan’t go to jail!’ The citizen’s quick-thinking response brought the magistrate to his senses. He secretly reproached himself for being so testy, and let the man go on his way.

  It is after all worth remembering that a person who seems quite ordinary can still now and again teach a lesson to someone who thinks himself marvellously wise and sensible.

  Settling Accounts with a Ghost