“But I do mean it,” retorted the boy.
“Oh, very well. You will find out when you get to your journey’s end.” And she went on washing and singing her ditty that was all out of tune.
“She means something,” said the boy to himself, “that’s clear. But at all events my basket is safe. I haven’t even let her look at the fruit with her evil eye, so there’s no harm done.” But he felt uneasy, and as he could not rest, he got up and went on his way.
Soon he reached the palace, and on telling his errand was admitted.
“You have brought me some pears, have you, my boy?” said the Kaiser, well pleased; and his mouth began to water for the luscious fruit.
“Yes, your Majesty, some of the finest golden pears in your Majesty’s whole empire,” said the boy.
The Kaiser was delighted to hear this and he himself removed the covering of leaves. But what was his anger to find under it nothing but ill-smelling sweepings from the road! The attendants, who stood by, were equally indignant at the insult offered to the emperor, and barely waited for his order to hustle the boy off to prison.
“It is all due to that old hag by the fountain,” said he to himself; “I thought she meant mischief to me.” This was what he said the first day and the second, but the quiet and solitude of the prison led him to think more closely and to remember the answer he had made to the old wife’s question.
“I have often heard my father say,” he thought, “how strong truth makes the tongue. Alas, that I did not use it as a weapon to take care of my own.”