Yiddish Folktales Page 10

  The king, seeing what had happened, said, “I confess myself beaten. Whoever the thief is, he’s cleverer than any of my counselors.” The king described all the thefts to his guests. “And it’s clear,” said the king, “that the thief has not stolen anything for the sake of the theft but rather as a demonstration of his cleverness. I therefore decree that if he will reveal himself to us, he can marry my daughter without having to guess her name.”

  The young thief said, “How can one be sure you’re not just saying that?” So the king issued a decree in which he promised that whoever had stolen the objects could marry his daughter. At that the young thief handed the king his wine cup, the gold coins, and the princess’s earrings.

  The king kissed him and said, “You are the man, and you will be my son-in-law.”

  Some time later, after the thief had been betrothed to the king’s daughter, he and the king were talking. The king said, “You know, I really don’t know who you are. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “Well,” said the thief, “I’m the son of King So-and-So.”

  “Oh,” said the king, “in that case, your two brothers are sitting in my prison.” And the king promptly ordered that the two brothers be freed. Then he sent a messenger to the father of the prince inviting him to come to the wedding. The father came, though of course he thought it was one of his clever sons who was about to be married. Yet when he found out that it was his foolish son, he was very happy just the same.

  After the wedding all the other imprisoned princes were freed too, and sent home.

  The princess’s father gave the thief a considerable portion of his kingdom. From then on, the young man was known as the Clever King, and his brothers were subject to his rule. And they all lived happily ever after.

  34

  The Orphan Boys

  This happened a long time ago in a small town, a shtetl, where two orphan boys lived. They were named Berele and Shmerele and they had no home, no relatives, no parents. They were entirely on their own and grew up in the streets.

  Well, there are do-gooders in every town. The do-gooders in this one couldn’t stand to see two hungry children, abandoned by God and man and roaming about in their ragged clothes like blind lambs. And so the boys were put to work chopping wood, carrying water, and doing other such tasks, for which they were occasionally tossed food from the back door of a kitchen, like dogs. They slept in the hegdesh, the poorhouse, on bundles of shredded straw and covered themselves with ragged quilts.

  The town sent them to kheyder, where the do-gooders decreed that they would sit apart from the other pupils. Even when the children played together, Berele and Shmerele were excluded from the games because they were orphans.

  One day Berele and Shmerele decided that there was no future for them in the village, so off they went. As they traveled, people gave them a bit of bread here, a sip of milk there. A potato. A morsel of cheese. And somehow they managed to keep body and soul together.

  “Best not to stay in one place,” thought the boys. “Better to keep going.”

  One day Berele and Shmerele came to a forest and walked through it until they reached a fork in the trail. Standing there was an old man with radiant features, clearly possessed by the Divine Presence. “Good morning to you, children,” he said. “What brings you into this forest?”

  As if they were talking to their own father or grandfather, the boys told him of their suffering in the village and the griefs they had endured. The old man listened, his face glowing like the sun.

  He stood musing after they had finished. Then, taking out his snuffbox, he put a couple of pinches into his nostrils, sneezed three times in a row, and then, taking a slim twig out of his breast pocket, broke it in two. Giving one piece to Berele, he said, “Take care of it. And carry it with you as you follow the road to the right. Keep going until the path is barred by a high fence that no one can climb. You’ll find neither gate nor door that will let you in. Then take the twig out of your pocket, sit on it, and repeat three times:

  Little stick, little stick, small as a tail,

  Do what I bid you now without fail.

  “Then the stick will rise into the air and carry you over the fence into a palace. You’ll find a princess inside … and you’ll find happiness there.”

  When he finished talking to Berele, he pulled a head of garlic out of another pocket and gave it to Shmerele. He said, “Carry this with you, my son, as you follow the left-hand path. Stay on it until you come to the capital city. When you arrive, everyone will be in mourning, for the king’s only daughter is dangerously ill. Announce that you can heal her, but insist that they leave you alone with the patient. Then take out the garlic head and repeat three times:

  Garlic, garlic, I know well,

  Like an apple is your smell.

  One and two and three and four,

  Make her healthy as before.

  “After that she will recover. And there, my child, you will find happiness. But remember,” the old man said, addressing them both, “when you find happiness, you must not let it go to your head. Remember what your proper place is in the world. You must lead honorable and decent lives.” Having said his say, the old man bade them both farewell and disappeared into the dense forest.

  Berele and Shmerele looked around. They ate their last meal together, and embraced tearfully. Then Berele went off to the right and Shmerele to the left.

  Berele traveled three days and three nights until he came to the high fence no one could climb. He pulled out the twig the old man had given him, sat on it, and said three times:

  “Little stick, little stick, small as a tail,

  Do what I bid you now without fail.”

  The twig rose into the air and Berele found himself standing inside a palace. He came to a room that gleamed and sparkled with gold, silver, and crystal, but there was no one in it. Berele went to a second room, which also gleamed and glistened with costly objects. A third room and a fourth were the same, shimmering with treasures but unoccupied. Finally he came to the last room and, with fast-beating heart, opened the door.

  Like the others, this room was glittering and ornate, but there was also a woman dressed in the finest clothing standing in the doorway. She ran to him, embraced him, and kissed him as if she were his own sister. And she was so lovely. She clung to him and squeezed his hand and praised him for being brave. Berele thought he was in a delicious dream in which it seemed to him that his mother came from the other world to see her orphaned son. She hugged him and pressed him close to her heart. Then he snapped out of that fantasy and saw that there was a woman clinging joyfully to him. So he asked her why the palace was surrounded by such a high fence, and how it happened that she was there alone, and why she was so happy to see him.

  She said, “You should know that I am the only daughter of a king. My father wanted to learn whether there really is such a thing as destiny. So he built this palace, and put the fence around it so that no man born of woman might enter. He stocked the palace with the best of everything. Food is handed in every day through a narrow opening. And my father has decreed that the man who can find his way in here will marry me. And that, my darling, is why I’m so happy to see you. You are my liberator, my destined groom.”

  The servant who brought her food that day saw that there were now two people inside and carried the news at once to the king, who came at once to the palace. He kissed his daughter and Berele, and the two were betrothed right on the spot. And when they were brought to the king’s court, a truly regal wedding was performed. And Berele and his bride stayed in the royal palace.

  Now let us return to Shmerele. He also traveled three days and three nights, until he came to the capital city. The entire town was in mourning, for the king’s only daughter was dangerously ill. The finest doctors and professors of medicine had done all they could to save her, but without success. The princess lay unconscious and her death was expected at any moment.

  Shmerele hurried
to the king’s palace and announced that he would cure the princess. The professors laughed, but Shmerele insisted that he could succeed where they had failed. So they quarreled fiercely until the sounds of the quarrel reached the king. “What harm can it do?” the king asked. “If she dies, it will have made no difference; and perhaps he might save her.”

  And so the king commanded that the young man be admitted to the princess’s bedside. Shmerele said, “Thank you, my lord king. I undertake to heal your daughter, but on the condition that everyone must leave the sickroom.” The king was a little irritated by this but since he was a father, after all, and wanted his daughter healed, he yielded.

  When Shmerele was alone in the sickroom with the princess, he took out his head of garlic and held it under her nose. Then three times he said:

  “Garlic, garlic, I know well,

  Like an apple is your smell.

  One and two and three and four,

  Make her healthy as before.”

  The princess opened her eyes, but she was still unable to move. So Shmerele held the garlic under her nose and repeated the spell once more. And he did this three times, until the princess had completely recovered.

  On her cure the princess became so fond of Shmerele that she could not bear to let him out of her sight. And to show their gratitude, the king and queen betrothed him to her, and in a little while the marriage was celebrated in the royal court. And Shmerele and his bride lived on in the king’s court.

  From then on Berele and Shmerele lived happily and contentedly, honorably and decently, as the old man had urged.

  35

  Two Brothers Who Went to the Devil

  Once upon a time there were two brothers, one rich and the other poor. The poor brother came to the rich one and asked for help, but the rich brother said, “You can go to the devil.” So that’s where the poor brother went.

  As he traveled, he came to a river. There he found a man who carried people across but who couldn’t get out of the water himself. “Where are you going?” the man in the water asked.

  “To the devil,” replied the poor brother.

  “When you get there,” said the man, “tell him how it is with me: I can carry everyone across the river, but I can’t get out myself. Ask him what I must do to be able to climb out.”

  “Very well,” said the poor man. Then he traveled on until he came to a large house full of young unmarried women. They asked him where he was going.

  “To the devil,” he replied.

  “In that case,” they said, “ask him why it is that there are no husbands for us.”

  “I will,” said the poor man and went on his way.

  Then he came to a young tree on which there were no leaves. “Where are you going?” asked the tree.

  “To the devil,” replied the poor man.

  “Then do me a favor,” said the tree. “Ask him why it is that I can’t grow leaves.”

  “I will,” said the poor man and went on his way.

  He walked and walked until he came to a little house that was set upon chicken legs. An old woman sat on the doorstep spinning. “Hey, where are you going?” she said.

  “I’m going to the devil,” he replied.

  “Ha,” she cried, “you’ve come to the right place. He’ll be back soon, and then he’ll eat you up.”

  “Oh please, please hide me,” begged the poor man.

  “All right,” said the woman. “I’ll turn you into a needle and stick you into the window curtain.” And that’s what she did.

  Around midnight came a noise, and the devil flew down the chimney.

  He sniffed and sniffed and then he said,

  “I smell something, something good.

  I know what it is, it’s human blood!”

  With that, he searched everywhere in the house. But he didn’t notice the needle in the window curtain.

  The next morning the devil told the old woman about the adventures he had had the day before. “Not far from here,” he said, “there’s a leafless tree with a rich treasure buried under it. If the treasure were dug up, the tree would sprout leaves again.

  “Another thing: I passed a house full of young women. If they swept the place and gave it a good cleaning, they would all find husbands.

  “Oh yes, and I passed a man who carries people across a river but can’t get out of the water himself. If he were to dip one of the people he carries into the river, he would be able to leave the water at last.”

  The poor man, just a needle stuck in the curtain, heard all this. In the morning, when the devil flew up the chimney again, the old woman returned him to his original shape. “Thank you for your help,” he said, and away he went.

  He went first to the tree, where he dug up the box of treasure buried at its roots. No sooner was the treasure in his hands than the tree sprouted leaves on all its branches.

  With the chest of treasure under his arm, the poor man went to the house where the young unmarried women lived. “If you’ll get me something to eat,” he said, “I’ll tell you what the devil advised you to do.”

  So they fed him, and when he was done eating, he said, “The devil’s advice is for you to sweep the house clean. If you do that, you’ll all find husbands.” And it turned out to be true. They cleaned the house thoroughly and soon afterward they were all married.

  The poor man, his treasure under his arm, went on until he came to the river. There he said to the man who carried people across: “The devil says that you should dip one of your passengers in the water. Then you’ll be able to climb out.”

  The man in the river followed his advice. And when he dipped one of his passengers in the river, he was able to get out easily.

  The poor man, carrying his treasure, went on home. There he built himself a new house and bought clothes for his wife and children. And from then on, he and his family were no longer poor.

  But when his rich brother heard what had happened, he was very curious. He hurried over to his brother’s new house and asked, “How did all this come about?”

  “Simple,” said the formerly poor man. “You told me to go to the devil and I went. When I got there, I followed his advice.”

  Hearing this, the rich brother was consumed with envy and decided to follow in his brother’s footsteps. But in his case, when he came to the no longer leafless tree, the tree struck him with its branches. When he came to the house where the formerly unmarried women lived, they struck him with their kneading troughs. And when he got to the river, the man who formerly carried people across pushed him in. And from that day to this, the envious rich brother has had to carry people back and forth across the river.

  36

  The Snake Bridegroom

  Once upon a time there was a very rich man who had no children. He went to a Hasidic rebbe and said, “Rebbe, pray to the Lord and ask him to bless me with children.”

  The rebbe said, “I will, but you must promise to hire twenty servants to care for the child that may be born to you.”

  “Certainly,” said the rich man.

  Not long afterward the man’s wife conceived, and nine months later she bore a son. Promptly she sent to town for twenty servants. But when the boy was two years old she thought, “Why do I still need so many servants? I’ll dismiss a few.” And so she did. She let first one, then another go, until finally only one was left.

  One day the rich woman stood at the stove warming milk when it occurred to her that she had sent the servant on an errand and no one was watching her boy. She hurried to his room just in time to see him falling out of bed. When he touched the ground, he turned into a snake and disappeared.

  One year followed another, until eleven years had passed and the time came when the lost boy would have begun to use tfiln, phylacteries. Then one night he appeared outside his parents’ window and cried, “Father, Mother. Get me tfiln, because it will soon be time for my barmitsve.”

  “Certainly,” said his father. “I’ll get you the best tfiln in the wo
rld. Just come into the house and let me see you.”

  The boy said, “No, Father. That cannot be.” And he went away.

  In the morning the father went to the holy rebbe and told him all that had happened. The rebbe said, “When the boy comes again, set out a pair of tfiln on a chair.”

  Two nights later the boy came again and knocked on the wall. At once his father put out a chair on which he set a pair of tfiln. Just then a strong wind blew up and the tfiln disappeared; but when the father searched, no one was there.

  On the boy’s eighteenth birthday he came back again and said, “Father, I am grown now. It’s time for me to marry. Get me a bride.”

  His father said, “Of course, my son. I’ll get you a rich young bride. But won’t you come into the house? I want to see you.”

  “That cannot be,” replied the son, and he went away.

  The next morning the rich man told the rebbe all that had happened. The rebbe said, “Today is Thursday. Harness your wagon and drive off in any direction you please. Travel until midnight and then stop wherever you happen to be, even if you are driving through water, even if you find yourself in the heart of a forest. Wherever it is, stop there.”

  The rich man did as he had been told, and at midnight when he stopped, it was in the middle of a forest. Two old people who lived in a hut not far away allowed him to spend the Sabbath with them. At his insistence they accepted the money he offered, and the old woman bought all sorts of food for the dinner table on Friday night. Yet the rich man saw that she put aside portions of everything and that she later carried them out of the house.

  He watched her do the same thing on Saturday morning and again on Saturday night. Finally he said, “Mumenyu, auntie, why is it that you take away portions of every meal?”