“Oh, you simpleton!” said the clever brothers.
On the next day, early in the morning, the fool got up, made himself ready, and went to the birch tree for his money. He arrived at the wood; the birch tree was there, swaying in the wind, but the ox was not there any more,—the wolves had eaten him in the night.
“Now, countryman,” said the fool to the birch tree, “pay me the money. You promised you would pay it to-day.”
The wind blew, the birch tree groaned, and the fool said:
“Well, you are an untrustworthy fellow! Yesterday you said, ‘I will pay the money to-morrow,’ and to-day you are trying to get out of it. If this is so I will wait yet another day, but after that I shall wait no longer, for I shall need the money myself.”
The fool went home, and his clever brothers again asked him: “Well, have you received your money?”
“No, brothers,” he answered, “I shall have to wait still another little day.”
“Whom did you sell it to?”
“A dried old birch tree in the wood.”
“See what a fool!” said the brothers.