him a sickle and he went off to the fields.  When he got there, he noticed how bright the sickle looked, and when he touched it, he found it quite hot from being carried in the sun.  “Dear, dear,” said he, “I cannot let this sickle reap the rice:  it is so hot that it must have very bad fever; I will let it rest in the shade until it gets better,” so he laid it down in a shady spot and began to stroll about.  Presently up came the farmer, and was very angry to find no work going on.  “Did I send you out to stroll about, or to start cutting the rice?” roared he.  “To cut the rice,” answered the merchant’s son, “but the sickle has fallen ill with high fever and is resting in the shade; come and feel how hot it is.”  “You are nothing but an idiot,” answered the farmer.  “You are no good here; go back home and start a fire in the big house and boil some water by the time I get back.”  The merchant’s son was only on the lookout for an excuse to annoy the farmer and the words used by the farmer were ambiguous; so he went straight back to the farm and set the biggest house on fire.  The farmer saw the conflagration and came rushing home and asked the merchant’s son what on earth he meant by doing such mischief.  “I am only doing exactly what you told me; nothing would induce me to disobey any order of yours, my worthy master.”  The farmer had nothing more to say; his words would bear the construction put upon them by the merchant’s son, and he was afraid to dismiss him lest he should have to lose his little finger; so he made up his mind to get rid of this inconvenient servant in another way, and the next day he called him and told him that he must send word to his father-in-law of the unfortunate burning of the house, and the merchant’s son must carry the letter.

The latter accordingly set off with the letter, but on the road he thought that it would be just as well to see what the letter was really about; so he opened it and found that it contained a request from the farmer to his father-in-law to kill the bearer of the letter immediately on his arrival.  The merchant’s son at once tore this up and wrote another letter in the farmer’s name:  saying that the bearer of the letter was a most excellent servant and he wished him to marry into the family; but that as he himself had no daughters he hoped that his father-in-law would give him one of his daughters to wife.  Armed with this he proceeded on his journey.  The father-in-law was rather surprised at the contents of the letter and asked the merchant’s son if he knew what it was about; he protested complete ignorance:  the farmer had told him nothing, and as he was only a poor cowherd, of course he could not read.  This set suspicion at rest; the wedding was at once arranged and duly took place, and the merchant’s son settled down to live with his wife’s family.

After a time the farmer got news of what had happened, and when he saw how the merchant’s son had always been sharp enough to get the better of him, he began to fear that in the end he would be made to cut off his finger; so he sought safety in flight.  He ran away from his house and home and was never heard of more.