The old man then composed himself comfortably, and died a few years later, after a sharp attack of senile decay, leaving many regrets and unsettled accounts behind him.
When that happened the three sons were very sad all day and all night. The very next morning they called to mind his last wishes of a few years ago, and decided to ponder over them, give them the benefit of their doubt, and see if anything could be made out of them. And they stuck manfully to their resolution, especially as the creditors were hourly expected.
The eldest son looked up all the maps and geography books he could get hold of, and studied them until he came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he would certainly risk death by sea and cannibals many times before he could hope to reach the furthermost summit of the globe.
The second son sat and waited for the voice he was both to hear and trace, until at night he gave up in despair. So he decided that the only voice worth listening to was that of common-sense.
The favourite son, meanwhile, went for a long walk, bent on success, and, unlike the others, full of a new hope. Yet, search as he would, he could find no spot where the atmosphere changed into stars at his bidding, and he returned home long after dinner-time disconsolate to his supper of soup which had grown cold.
The next morning the three brothers arose in disappointment and vexation of mind. They murmured loud and long at having been sent on fairy-tale errands in a world where no clever talking animals really existed, or kind-hearted inanimate objects volunteered to befriend them on impossible quests.
As the first-born explained:—
"If I were to coax my parrot and ask him to help me in return for my many years of kindness, as they do successfully in fairy stories, he would bite me for my pains, as he always does whenever I feed him."
And the second-born said:—
"If I were to fondle a pin and said, 'Ah, pin! canst thou help me in my distress?' ten to one I would get pricked, and serve me right for being so imbecile."