“Ah! ah! ah!” laughed the old man, “trust a boy to make provision for that. There is, my boy, a wonderful secret connected with this house. When a certain magic word is pronounced, a table is lowered by invisible hands, and on the table you will find everything you wish to eat and drink. Now say it after me, ‘Corremurreplatyemurrepleuemurretimemurrejcherymurrepljeskuskiski.’”
Slowly the boy repeated the strange word after the old man, and, as he finished, there descended a table even as he had been told. On the table was a baked fowl, a duck, vegetables, puddings, tarts, cakes, sweets, and two or three kinds of drinks. Oh, these things were good! The boy soon knew that, and when he had eaten and drunk as much as he could, the man said he must get away as soon as possible, as he felt his brain could not stand the strain of even the backs of the books much longer.
“I know you can’t read and write, boy,” said the old man, “and yet I want you to promise me you won’t read a single word in these books, nor even open them.”
The boy promised readily enough, and then the old man went off. At first the boy worked at the dusting, never daring to open one of the books in case the old man should suddenly appear as he had done on the hill-top; but, as day after day passed, and there was no sign of him, he grew bold and began to read. What he read was very, very strange, stranger than anything he had ever heard of. Soon indeed he knew that his master must be the cleverest man in the world, for he learned from his books how to turn himself into any animal, and then to change back again into himself. How he longed to try it, but he dare not, because one condition was, that a person turning into an animal found a leather halter round his neck, and only a human being could undo it, so that he might turn back again to what he had been before.
Long before the six months were over, the boy was longing to go and try this wonderful unheard-of thing, but he dared not go until the old man came back, or he not only would have had to go penniless, but the old man might suspect him, and watch him and his actions.
At last, however, the little old man returned. “Have you kept your promise?” were his first words. “You have not read the books?” and the boy vowed and protested that he had not even opened the books. The old man examined his precious volumes, and, finding them in good order, paid the £50, and the boy then set out for his home. His father and mother could hardly believe he had earned so much money in such a short time.
“Easy come, easy go,” is a homely saying, and certainly “Boy’s” £50 went very easily indeed, and soon it was all spent. “You must go and earn some more money,” said his mother.
“THE SALE OF THE BULL.”