Chapter XI - Temptations

In Vinding, near Veile, lived once a poor cottager, who went out as day labourer; his son was employed by the priest at Skjærup to run on errands, for which he received his board and lodging. One day the boy was sent with a letter for the priest at Veile. It was in the middle of summer, and the weather was very hot; when he had walked some distance he became tired and drowsy, and lay down to sleep. On awaking he saw a willow, from the roots of which the water had washed away all the earth, whereby the tree was on the point of perishing. “I am but little, it is true,” said John, for such was the boy’s name, “and can do but little, still I can help thee.” He then began to throw mould on the bare roots, and ceased not till they were quite covered and protected. When he had finished, he heard a soft voice proceeding from the tree, which said to him: “Thou shalt not have rendered me this good service for nothing; cut a pipe from my branches, and everything for which thou blow-est shall befall thee.”

Although the boy did not give much credit to this, he, nevertheless, cut off a twig for a pipe. “As such a fine promise has been made me,” thought he to himself, “I will wish that I could blow myself into a good situation by Michaelmas, that I might be of some use to my poor old father.” He blew, but saw nothing, and then, putting his pipe in his pocket, hurried on to make up for the time he had loitered away at the willow-tree. Not long after he found a pocket-book full of money lying in the road. Now John by keeping it, could at once have relieved both his own and his father’s necessities, but such a thought never entered his mind; on the contrary, he ran back to the town, inquired of all that he met, whether they had not lost a pocket-book. At length there came a horseman galloping along the road, and when John also asked him, the stranger replied that he had that morning dropped his pocket-book on his way from home, at the same time giving a description of it.

John delivered the pocket-book to him, and the horseman, who was a proprietor from Ostedgaard, near Fred-ericia, was so gratified, that he immediately gave the boy a handsome reward, and asked him if he would like to enter his service. “Yes, I should indeed,” answered John, quite pleased at the thought. He then parted from the gentleman with many thanks for his kindness, after having agreed between them that John should come down to Osted at Michaelmas. He then executed his errand for the priest, and felt convinced, that it was alone owing to the pipe that he had met with such a lucky adventure; he therefore concealed it carefully, and let no one know anything of the matter.

Now this gentleman was an adept in the black art, and had only offered to take the lad into his service that he might see how far his honesty would be proof against the temptations into which he purposed to lead him.

At the appointed time John went to Ostedgaard, and was summoned by the master, who inquired of him what he could do. “I am not fit for much,” said John, “as I am so little; but I will do my best at all times to perform whatever my good master requires of me.” “That is well, with that I am contented,” answered the master; “I have twelve hares, these thou must, take to the wood every morning, and if thou bringest back the full number every evening I will give thee house and home in remuneration; but if thou allowest them to run away, thou wilt have a reckoning to settle with me.” “I will do my best,” answered John.

The next morning his master came down to the inclosure, and counted the hares. As soon as he opened the door and gave the animals their liberty, away they all ran, one to the east, another to the west, and John remained standing alone; he was not, however, so disheartened as might be imagined; for he had his willow pipe in his pocket. As soon, therefore, as he came into a lonely part of the wood, he took out his pipe and began to blow, and no sooner had he put it to his mouth, than all the twelve hares came running and assembled round him. As John now felt he could rely on the virtues of his pipe, he let them all go again, and passed his time in amusing himself. In the evening he took out his pipe again, and as he walked up to the manor continued blowing it. All the hares then came forth and followed him one by one. The master was standing at the gate, to see what would take place. He could not recover from his astonishment, when he saw the little herd-boy blowing his pipe as he approached the house, and all the hares following him as gently and quietly as if it were a flock of sheep he was driving home. “Thou art more clever than thou appearest,” said the master; “the number is right, go in and get some food; for to-day thou hast done a good piece of work: we shall now see whether thou art as fortunate to-morrow.”

The next day everything passed in exactly the same manner. As soon as the inclosure was opened, all the hares ran out in different directions, and the boy let them enjoy their liberty, as he now felt certain that he could bring them back whenever he wished. But this time his master had prepared a harder trial for him.

At noon he desired his daughter to disguise herself in a peasant’s dress, and to go and ask the boy to give her a hare. The young maiden was so beautiful that he did not think John could refuse her request.

When the daughter had thus disguised herself, she went into the field and began talking to John, asking him what he was doing there. “I am taking care of hares,” answered the boy.

“What has become of thy hares?” said the maiden, “I see nothing of them.” “Oh, they are only gone a little way into the wood,” said he; “but as soon as I call them they will all come back again.” When the young girl pretended to doubt this, he blew on his pipe, and instantly all the twelve came running towards him. She now begged and prayed him to give her one of them. The boy at first refused, but as she was very importunate, he at length told her that she should have a hare for a kiss. In short, the maiden got the hare, and carried it up to the manor; but when John thought she must be near home, he blew on his pipe, and immediately the hare came bounding back to him, and so he brought all the twelve home that evening.

On the third day, the lord of Osted was determined to try whether he could not trick the boy. He therefore dressed himself like a peasant and went in search of John. When they had conversed some time, he requested him to call his hares together, and when they came, he wished to purchase one of them, but the boy answered, that he did not dare to sell what did not belong to him. As the lord continued to entreat him most urgently, John promised him a hare, if he would give him the ring that was on his finger. The lord, it must be observed, had forgotten to take off his ring when he put on the peasant’s dress, and now found that he was known. He, nevertheless, gave the boy the ring and got one of the hares. When he had nearly reached Osted, John blew on his pipe, and, although the master held the hare as firmly as he could, it got away and ran back, just as on the preceding day. When the master found he could not get the better of the boy by fair means, he had recourse to the black art, and ascertained that the willow pipe was the cause of the hares always obeying John.

When the boy returned on the fourth evening, his master gave him plenty of food and strong drink, and being unaccustomed to such things, he soon fell asleep, so that it was no difficult matter to steal his pipe from him. The next day the hares were turned out as usual; but this time John could not bring them back; he, consequently, durst not show himself at Osted, but continued wandering about the wood, crying and sobbing. His master had now gained his point. When it began to grow dark, he went to seek for John, and asked him why he remained away so long that evening. John scarcely ventured to confess his misfortune; but as his master continued urging him to tell him, he at length acknowledged that the hares had run away, and that it was not in his power to get them back again.

The lord took pity on him and told him to return home, for the loss was not very great. “A house and home I see thou wilt not get at present,” said he as they walked back, “unless thou canst fulfil a condition, which I will propose to-morrow.” John was glad to hear these words; for his sorrow was less at losing what his master had promised him than at forfeiting his benefactor’s favour, and being turned out of the house. The next day there were guests at Ostedgaard, and when they were all assembled, the lord of the manor, calling John, told him he should have what had been promised him, if he could relate a bagful of untruths. “No,” replied John, “to untruths I have never been addicted; but, if my good master pleases, I can, perhaps, tell him a bagful of truths.”

“Well then,” said his master, “here is a bag, and now begin thy story.”

John began to recite about his lot as a little boy, how he had passed all his life in indigence and misery. Then he recited about his adventure with the willow-tree, how he had obtained his pipe, and had afterwards found the pocket-book, which was the cause of his master taking him into his service. Lastly, he recited how a maiden had come to him and given him a kiss for a hare. As he was continuing his master called out (as he did not wish his own fruitless attempt should be known): “Stop, John, thou hast kept thy word—the bag is full.” He then let the boy go out of the room, and told his guests how faithfully and honourably John had always conducted himself, adding, that it was not possible to seduce him to deceive or to tell an untruth.”

“Still I think it is to be done,” said the proprietor of Nebbegaard. “I will answer for it that he will not be able to withstand, if he is seriously tempted.”

His host felt offended by this doubting, and immediately offered to lay as large a wager as his neighbour pleased, that he could not get John either to deceive him or to tell an untruth. The challenge was accepted, and their estates were pledged for and against the boy.

The proprietor of Nebbegaard wrote a letter to his daughter, in which he explained to her what had taken place, and how important it was for him to win the wager. He desired her, therefore, to entertain John in the best manner possible, and to appear as affable and friendly towards him as she could, with the view of prevailing on him to give her the horse on which he rode.

The lad was then sent to Nebbegaard with this letter. His master lent him a horse, that he might the more expeditiously perform his errand; but warned him not to ride too fast, or by any means to lose the horse, which was the finest and most valuable animal he had in his stable. John promised to follow his instructions, and rode away. When he had ridden a short way from home, he dismounted, and led the horse, in order to comply, as much as possible, with his master’s wish. In this manner he proceeded but slowly, and it was evening before he reached Nebbegaard.

When the young lady had read her father's letter, she sent for John, and behaved in the kindest and most friendly manner towards him. The maiden was very handsome, and treated the young lad as her equal in condition and rank. She entertained him sumptuously, and said not a word about the horse till he had drunk much more than he could bear. Without knowing what he did, John promised (after she had long entreated him in vain) that he would give her the horse, and the young girl behaved yet more friendly towards him; so the next morning John finding he had no longer a horse, took the saddle and bridle and wandered back to Ostedgaard. As he walked along it struck him how wrongly he had acted, and he began to repent bitterly of what he had done. “What shall I now say when I reach home, and my master finds that the horse is gone?” said he to himself, as he hung the saddle and bridle on the hedge. “‘Well, John,’ master will say, ‘hast thou executed my errand?’ Then I shall answer, ‘Yes/ ‘But what then is become of my horse, with which I entrusted thee?’ Then I will say, ‘that I met a band of robbers on the way, and they took the horse from me’ No, that will never do,” continued he, “never have I told a lie yet, and I will not do it now.” Not long after another thought rose to his mind: “I can say that the horse fell, and that I buried it in a ditch. That won’t do either—Lord knows what I, poor fellow, had best do.” When he had gone on a little further, he resolved within himself that he would say that the horse had run away, and had shaken off his saddle and bridle.

Long before he reached Ostedgaard, the guests saw him approaching with the saddle on his head and the bridle on his arm.

“Here comes our truthful boy,” exclaimed the proprietor of Nebbegaard, “look only how slowly he approaches. who do you now think has won the wager?” The lord of Osted had already recognised John, and was highly incensed at seeing him return without the horse. As soon as the boy entered the house, he was called up where all the guests were assembled, and his master said: “Well, John, hast thou executed my errand?” “Yes, I have, gracious master,” answered the boy, trembling with fear. “What then is become of my good horse, which I ordered thee to take such care of?” John did not dare to meet the look of his master, but cast his eyes on the ground and said, in a whimpering voice:—

“Dainty the fare, sweet was the mead.
The lady’s arm was soft and round.
The sparkling cup my senses drown’d,
And thus I lost my master’s steed.”

When he had recited this, his master embraced him in his joy, and exclaimed: “See now! I knew well enough that he would speak the truth. Which of us two has won the wager?”

John did not comprehend the meaning of these words, and continued sorrowful, till his master said to him:

“Be of good heart, my boy! as thou hast always kept to truth and right, I will give thee both house and land, and when thou art old enough, I will give thee my daughter to wife.”

The following day John was allowed to fetch his old father to live with him, and some years after he was married to his master’s daughter.