“Oh, my sweet wife, something is better than nothing; if we have no grain to grind for ourselves, we can grind for other people, if not in streams at least in drops.”
“May a cancer eat thy mill! I haven’t a thing to put between my teeth, and still—”
“Well, my sweet wife, if thou hast nothing to put between thy teeth thou’lt soon have. Grind, my dear mill.”
At these words, so much meat and drink appeared on the poor man’s table that half of it would have been enough. It was only then that the woman regretted her tongue rattling. But a woman is a woman; beat her with a stone, only let her talk.
The poor man, his wife, and two sons sat down at the table, looking at the food like an army of locusts. They ate and drank to their hearts’ content. Whether from wine or some other cause, a desire to dance came to the two sons; and they jumped up and danced, so it was pure delight to look at them. “Oh,” said the elder one, “if we only had a gypsy!” That moment a band of gypsies by the chimney struck up their music, and played away with such variations that the poor man too wished to dance, and so whirled his wife around that better could not be asked for. The neighbors knew not what to think of the affair. How was it that music was sounding in the poor man’s house?
“What is this?” said they one to another, coming nearer and nearer, till they came up to the door and the windows. Only then did they see that a band of gypsies were fiddling away with might and main, and the old man, his wife, and their two sons were dancing, while the table was bending under loads of rich meat and drink.
“Come in cousin! come in friend! come in brother-in-law, bring thy wife! come in brother!” and there was no end to the invitations of the poor man. Guests collected unceasingly, and still the table was spread. “’Pon my soul,” said the poor man, “it’s a pity my house isn’t larger; for all these guests could scarcely find room in a palace.” At these words, instead of the poor man’s cabin such a magnificent palace appeared, with chambers, twelve in a row, that the king himself hadn’t the like of it.
A multitude of grand people with the king in the midst of them were out walking just at that time. “What’s this? what’s this?” asked they of one another. “There has always been a poor man’s cabin here, now there’s a king’s palace, and besides, music is sounding, and gypsies are fiddling. Let’s go and have a look.”
The king went in front, and after him all the grand people,—counts, dukes, barons, and so on. The poor man came out and received the king with the great personages very kindly, and conducted them all to the head of the table as their fitting place. They ate, drank, and caroused, so that it was like a small wedding.
While they were enjoying themselves at the best, a great sealed letter came to the king. When he had read it, he turned yellow and blue, because it was written therein that the Turk-Tartar was nearing his kingdom with a great army, destroying everything with fire and sword, and sparing not the property of innocent, weeping people, whom he puts to the point of the sword; that the earth is drinking their blood; their flesh is devoured by dogs.