A WOODCUTTER’S WAGES

by

BRADLEY W. SIMPSON

     A long time ago, when fairies pranced in the bushes and goblins stole eggs from hencoops, there lived a woodcutter who had seven children.  He was very poor, and had not so much as a single farthing saved.  He could find no work except once a week, when a rich miser of the village had him over to cut logs and trim hedges.  But for all his trouble the miser did not give him even a stale corner of bread to take home for his children to eat, but the poor woodcutter went home with potato peelings that were thrown out by the cook.  The peelings he cooked in water and made into a bland soup, and this the children ate.  The soup was made to last a whole week until the woodcutter went again to the rich man’s house and returned, with more potato peelings, to make them soup again.

     The rich man, who was spiteful and cruel, was very angry when he learned that the woodcutter was taking scraps to his children.  And when the day came for the woodcutter’s services, he would not let him leave with the peelings, but made him feed them to the chickens so that the poor man went home empty handed for all his hard work.  When his children saw him, and saw that there was no food, they wept with hunger.

     It broke the woodcutter’s heart to see his children cry and he said, “Weep no more, my children, and I will find some food for you to eat.  Be brave and strong and go to bed, and I will soon return.”

     As night was falling, he went door to door throughout the village but found no one who would give him so much as a wedge of molded cheese to eat.

     The woodcutter was about to give up and go home, when he spotted a tiny house near the edge of a wood.  A light burned in the window, so he decided to knock and implore within.  All at once, the door opened and out hobbled a little, old, gray man leaning on a cane.

     “Oh, good evening, sir,” the little old man said.  “What brings you this way at this time of night?”

     The woodcutter was surprised at the sight of the little dwarf, but he remembered his plight and explained, “Dear sir, my children are weeping from hunger, and I cannot afford to give them a single piece of bread.  Can you help us so that we won’t starve?”

     “I will help you if you are in need,” said the dwarf, “but you must first cut and clear the edge of my forest so that wild animals will stay away from my cottage.”

     The woodcutter thought how late it was.  He thought how hard it would be to cut that many trees in the dark.  Then he thought about his poor, hungry children at home and so he agreed to the dwarf’s offer.

     The dwarf led the woodcutter through the darkness to an area of forest behind the little cottage.  “Cut down these trees and stack the logs so I can use them as firewood,” the dwarf said as he handed the woodcutter an axe.  With that, the dwarf clapped his hands and vanished.  The moon was full that night, and the woodcutter could see by its soft glow the vast growth of trees he would have to cut.  It seemed an impossible task.

     And so began a night of backbreaking work for the woodcutter.  All night long, he chopped and hacked as the moon rose high in the sky and finally sunk out of sight behind the hills.  Before dawn, he had cleared the trees, stacked every log neatly, and had separated the twigs into kindling piles.  There remained only one tree to cut down.

     Suddenly, the little gray dwarf reappeared.

     “You have worked very hard for me, good sir,” said the dwarf when he saw the good job the woodcutter had done.  “You shall now have your wages.  There stands one last tree: chop it down and you will find something in the roots.”  So saying, he disappeared again.

     The woodcutter cut down the tree and when it fell, he spotted a box wrapped in cloth sacking and bound with twine among the roots.  He picked it up, and headed home through the village.

     Just as the sun was rising, he arrived home and found his children still sleeping.  He placed the box on the table, cut the twine, and removed the sacking.  When he saw the box was full of gold pieces he could not contain his excitement, and ran about the small house leaping with joy.

     When the sun was higher, and the morning a little lighter, he went to market and bought several loaves of bread, a pound of goat cheese, and a measure of fruits and nuts.  At home, he woke his children, dressed them, had them say their prayers, and then fed them until they were all good and full.

     Then the woodcutter went to the tailor and cobbler and bought his children fine suits and shoes so that they would have decent clothes to wear for a change.  As he was heading home with his large bundle, the rich miser saw him and wondered how he had met such good fortune.  Curiosity got the best of him, and he went up to the woodcutter to learn about his good stroke of prosperity.  The woodcutter innocently told him all about his dealings with the dwarf.

     The greedy miser was envious, and made up his mind that he, as well, would visit the old dwarf.  Therefore, that night, he left his house and took the road that led through the village until he spotted the little house where the dwarf lived.  He knocked at the door and waited.

     The door opened, and out came the little gray man.  “Good evening, sir,” said the dwarf.  “What brings you around here so late?”

     “I am so hungry and poor,” lied the rich man, pretending to be desperate.  “Won’t you please help me?”

     “Very well,” answered the dwarf.  “But first, you must cut and clear the far corner of my forest so that I can till the land and grow a garden.”

     “Clear the forest at THIS time of night?”  When it is so dark?  You crazy…”  But the rich man quickly held his tongue when he remembered the gold.  And as he was driven by greedy desire for the rich reward, he was obliged to accept the dwarf’s offer.

     “This way,” said the dwarf, and he led the rich man out into the night to an area of forest, and handed him an axe.  “Clear these trees, and stack the wood to one side,” said the dwarf, and he vanished.

     “Stupid little man,” cursed the rich man.  “Clear the forest, indeed!  As dark as it is, I think NOT!”

     The rich man began his work.  But he idled about, hardly working, grumbling to himself about the silly dwarf, but all the time dreaming of the gold pieces he would receive.

     When dawn broke, he had hardly made a showing in the forest.  Only a few trees had he chopped, and he had not bothered to stack the logs at all.  Then the dwarf reappeared.

     “What’s this?  You have barely worked,” scolded the dwarf when he saw the pitiful job the rich man had done.

     “What do you expect, foolish little man,” answered the rich man.  “Should I break my back cutting down trees and falling over things in the dark?”

     “Very well,” said the dwarf angrily.  “You shall now have your wages.”  He pointed to an old tree standing nearby.  “Cut it down.  There is something for you in the roots.”  So saying, he disappeared.

     The rich man excitedly hacked at the tree until it fell.  In the roots, he found a box wrapped in sacking and tied with twine.  This he grabbed, and hurried home, joyfully.

     Once at home, he spread a cloth upon his table and set the box down.  He cut the twine and tore away the wrapping.  But what was in the box?  Not gold pieces as he had hoped, but enormous scorpions.  The scorpions quickly sprang upon him covering him from head to foot.  The rich man screamed in horror as they stung him to death.  This is what happens to the greedy. 

     But the woodcutter, who had an unselfish heart, became a wealthy proprietor, and his children grew healthy and lived happily all the days of their lives.