Next morning off went the lad, and when he got home to his mother, he said,—
"After all, the North Wind is a jolly fellow, for now he has given me a ram, which will coin golden ducats if I only say, 'Ram, ram! make money!'"
"All very true, I dare say," said his mother, "but I shan't believe it until I see the ducats made."
"Ram, ram! make money!" said the lad; but not even a penny did the ram coin.
So the lad went back to the North Wind and scolded him, and said the ram was worth nothing, and he must have his rights for the meal.
"Well!" said the North Wind, "I've nothing else to give you but that old stick in the corner yonder; but it's a stick of such a kind that if you say, 'Stick, stick! lay on! it lays on till you say,—'Stick, stick! now stop!'"
So the lad thanked the North Wind and went his way, and as the road was long, he turned in this night also to the landlord; but as he could guess pretty well how things stood as to the cloth and the ram, he lay down at once on the bench and began to snore, as if he were asleep. Now the landlord who thought surely the stick must be worth something, hunted up one which was like it, and when he heard the lad snore he was going to exchange the two; but, just as the landlord was about to take it, the lad called out,—
"Stick, stick! lay on!"
So the stick began to beat the landlord, till he jumped over chairs and tables and benches, and yelled and roared,—
"Oh my, oh my! bid the stick be still, else it will beat me to death. You shall have back both your cloth and your ram."