“Silver and gold, and precious stones, and all such glittering fine things, will I none,” said the farmer.  “They have turned the heart and broken the neck of many a one before now, and few are they whose lives they make happy.  I know that you are handy smiths, and have many a strange thing with you that other smiths know nothing about.  So, come now, swear to me that you will make me an iron plough, such that the smallest foal may be able to draw it without being tired, and then run off with you as fast as your legs will carry you.”  So the black swore, and then the farmer cried out—­

“Now, in the name of God.  There you are at liberty,” and the little one vanished like lightning.

Next morning, before the sun was up, there stood in the farmer’s yard a new iron plough, and he yoked his dog, Water, to it; and though it was of the size of an ordinary plough, Water drew it with ease through the heaviest clayland, and it tore up prodigious furrows.  The farmer used this plough for many years, and the smallest foal or the leanest little horse could draw it through the ground, to the amazement of every one who beheld it, without turning a single hair.

This plough made a rich man of the farmer, for it cost him no horse-flesh, and he led a cheerful and contented life by means of it.

Hereby we may see that moderation holds out the longest, and that it is not good to covet too much.

HOW A LAD STOLE THE GIANT’S TREASURE.

Once upon a time there lived a peasant who had three sons.  The two elder ones used to go with him to the field and to the forest, and helped him in his work, but the youngest remained at home with his mother, to help her in the house.  His brothers despised him for doing this, and whenever they had a chance they used him badly.

At length the father and mother died, and the sons divided the property among them.  As might have been looked for, the elder brothers took all that was of any value for themselves, leaving nothing to the youngest but an old cracked kneading-trough, which neither of them thought worth the having.

“The old trough,” said one of the brothers, “will do very well for our young brother, for he is always baking and scrubbing.”

The boy thought this, as was only natural, a poor thing to inherit, but he could do nothing, and he now recognised that it would be no use his remaining at home, so he wished his brothers good-bye, and went off to seek his fortune.  On coming to the side of a lake he made his trough water-tight with oakum, and converted it into a little boat.  Then he found two sticks, and using these as oars rowed away.

When he had crossed the water, he saw a large palace, and entering it, he asked to speak with the king.  The king questioned him respecting his family and the purpose of his visit.

“I,” said the boy, “am the son of a poor peasant, and all I have in the world is an old kneading-trough.  I have come here to seek work.”