The Poor Boy in the Grave
There was once a poor shepherd-boy whose father
and mother were dead, and he was placed by the authorities in the house of a rich man, who
was to feed him and bring him up. The man and his wife, however, had bad hearts, and were
greedy and jealous of their riches, and vexed whenever anyone put a morsel of their bread
in his mouth. The poor young fellow might do what he liked, he got little to eat, but only
so many blows the more. One day he had to watch a hen and her chickens, but she escaped
through a hedge with them, and a hawk darted down instantly, and carried her off through
the air. The boy called, thief, thief, rascal, with all the strength of his body. But what
good did that do. The hawk did not bring its prey back again. The man heard the noise, and
ran to the spot, and as soon as he saw that his hen was gone, he fell in a rage, and gave
the boy such a beating that he could not stir for two days. Then he had to take care of
the chickens without the hen, but now his difficulty was greater, for one ran here and the
other there. He thought he was doing a very wise thing when he tied them all together with
a string, because then the hawk would not be able to steal any of them away from him. But
he was very much mistaken. After two days, worn out with running about and hunger, he fell
asleep. The bird of prey came, and seized one of the chickens, and as the others were tied
fast to it, it carried them all off together, perched itself on a tree, and devoured them.
The farmer was just coming home, and when he saw the misfortune, he got angry and beat the
boy so unmercifully that he was forced to lie in bed for several days. When he was on his
legs again, the farmer said to him, you are too stupid for me, I cannot make a herdsman of
you, you must go as errand-boy. Then he sent him to the judge, to whom he was to carry a
basketful of grapes, and he gave him a letter as well. On the way hunger and thirst
tormented the unhappy boy so violently that he ate two grapes. He took the basket to the
judge, but when the judge had read the letter, and counted the grapes he said, two are
missing. The boy confessed quite honestly that, driven by hunger and thirst, he had
devoured the two which were missing. The judge wrote a letter to the farmer, and asked for
the same number of grapes again. These also the boy had to take to him with a letter. As
he again was so extremely hungry and thirsty, he could not help it, and again ate two
grapes. But first he took the letter out of the basket, put it under a stone and seated
himself thereon in order that the letter might not see and betray him. The judge, however,
again made him give an explanation about the missing grapes. Ah, said the boy, how have
you learnt that. The letter could not know about it, for I put it under a stone before I
did it. The judge could not help laughing at the boy's simplicity, and sent the man a
letter wherein he cautioned him to look after the poor boy better, and not let him want
for meat and drink, and also that he was to teach him what was right and what was wrong. I
will soon show you the difference, said the hard man, if you will eat, you must work, and
if you do anything wrong, you shall be quite sufficiently taught by blows. The next day he
set him a hard task. He was to chop two bundles of hay for food for the horses, and then
the man threatened, in five hours, said he, I shall be back again, and if the hay is not
chopped by that time, I will beat you until you can not move a limb. The farmer went with
his wife, the man-servant and the girl, to the yearly fair, and left nothing behind for
the boy but a small bit of bread. The boy seated himself on the bench, and began to work
with all his might. As he got warm over it he put his little coat off and threw it on the
hay. In his terror lest he should not get done in time he kept constantly cutting, and in
his haste, without noticing it, he chopped his little coat as well as the hay. He became
aware of the misfortune too late. There was no repairing it. Ah, cried he, now all is over
with me. The wicked man did not threaten me for nothing. If he comes back and sees what I
have done, he will kill me. Rather than that I will take my own life. The boy had once
heard the farmer's wife say, I have a pot with poison in it under my bed. She, however,
had only said that to keep away greedy people, for there was honey in it. The boy crept
under the bed, brought out the pot, and ate all that was in it. I do not know, said he,
folks say death is bitter, but it tastes very sweet to me. It is no wonder that the
farmer's wife has so often longed for death. He seated himself in a little chair, and was
prepared to die. But instead of becoming weaker he felt himself strengthened by the
nourishing food. It cannot have been poison, thought he, but the farmer once said there
was a small bottle of poison for flies in the closet in which he keeps his clothes. That,
no doubt, will be the true poison, and bring death to me. It was, however, no poison for
flies, but hungarian wine. The boy got out the bottle, and emptied it. This death tastes
sweet too, said he, but shortly after when the wine began to mount into his brain and
stupefy him, he thought his end was drawing near. I feel that I must die, said he, I will
go away to the churchyard, and seek a grave. He staggered out, reached the churchyard, and
laid himself in a newly dug grave. He lost his senses more and more. In the neighborhood
was an inn where a wedding was being held. When he heard the music, he fancied he was
already in paradise, until at length he lost all consciousness. The poor boy never awoke
again. The heat of the strong wine and the cold night-dew deprived him of life, and he
remained in the grave in which he had laid himself. When the farmer heard the news of the
boy's death he was terrified, and afraid of being brought to justice - indeed, his
distress took such a powerful hold of him that he fell fainting to the ground. His wife,
who was standing by the hearth with a pan of hot fat, ran to him to help him. But the
flames enveloped the pan, the whole house caught fire, in a few hours it lay in ashes, and
the rest of the years they had to live they passed in poverty and misery, tormented by the
pangs of conscience.
--The End-- |
