The Pobratim Part 70

"Once a farmer's only son married a very young girl----"

"How old was she?" interrupted the child.

"She was sixteen."

"Last time you told me she was fifteen."

"So she was, but that was a year ago. They had a very grand wedding, to which all the people of the village were invited----"

"Not the village, the town," said the child.

"You are right," added Milena, correcting herself.

"For eight days they danced the _Kolo_ every night, and had grand dinners and suppers."

"What had they for dinner?"

"They had roast lambs, _castradina_, chickens, geese----"

"And also sausages?"

"Yes; and ever so many other good things."

"But what had they for supper?"

"They had huge loaves of milk-bread and cakes with raisins----"

"Had they also peaches?" asked the boy, with his mouth full, whilst the juice of his own luscious peach was trickling down his chin.

"Yes; they had also grapes, melons and pomegranates; so when every guest had eaten till he could hardly stand, all squatted on the floor and sucked sticks of sugar-candy. When the eight days' feasting was over, the bridegroom weighed himself and, to his dismay, found that he was eight pounds lighter than on the eve of his marriage."

"Why?" asked the child, with widely-opened eyes.

"Because," answered Milena, with a slight smile and the faintest of blushes, "because, I suppose, he had danced too much."

"But if he ate till he couldn't stand?"

"Anyhow," continued Milena, "he was so frightened when he saw how much he had lost in weight that he made up his mind to run away and leave his wife at home."

"But why?" quoth the urchin.

"Because he thought that if he kept getting thin at that rate, nothing would soon be left of him. He, therefore, made a bundle of his clothes and went off in the middle of the night. He walked and walked, and after a few days, at early dawn, he got to a bleak and desolate country, where there was nothing but huge rocks, sharp flints, and sandy tracts of ground. Far off he saw a large castle, with high stone walls and big iron gates. Being very tired and not seeing either a tree or a bush as far as eye could reach, he went and knocked at one of the gates. An elderly gentleman, dressed in black, came to open, and asked him what he wanted.

"'I come,' said the bridegroom, 'to see if you are, perhaps, in want of a serving-man.'

"'You come in the nick of time,' said the old man, grinning. 'I'll take you as my cook; you'll not have much to do.'

"'But,' answered the young man, 'I'm not very clever as a cook.'

"'It doesn't matter; you'll only have to keep a pot boiling and be ever stirring what's in it.'

"He then led the young man into a kind of underground kitchen, where there was an immense pot hanging on a hook, and underneath a roaring fire was burning. Then the old gentleman gave the youth a ladle as big as a shovel, and bade him stir continually, and every now and then add more fuel to the fire.

"The youth stirred on and on for twenty-five years, and then he grew tired and stopped for a while. When he was about to begin again he heard a voice coming out of the cauldron, which said:

"'You've been mixing us up for a good long while; couldn't you let us have a little rest?'

"The cook--who was no more a youth, but an elderly man--got frightened. He left the kitchen and went to find his master.

"'Well,' said the elderly gentleman, who was not a day older than he had been twenty-five years before, 'what is it you want?'

"'I'm rather tired of always stirring that pot, and I'd like to go home.'

"'Quite right,' replied the master. 'I suppose you want your wages?'

"He then went to an iron box and took out two big sacks of gold coins.

"'You have served me faithfully, and I'll pay you accordingly. This money is yours.'

"The man took the money and thanked his master.

"'I'll give you, moreover, some advice, which is, perhaps, worth more than the money itself. Listen to my words, and remember them. Upon leaving me, always take the high road; on no account go through lanes and byways. Never put up for the night at little hostelries, but always stop at the largest inns. Whenever you are about to commit some rash act, defer your purpose till the morrow. Lastly, when people speak badly of the devil, tell them that he is less black than he is painted.'

"The man thanked his master and went off. He walked for some time on the highway, and then he met another traveller, who was walking in the same direction. After a few hours they came to a crossway.

"'Let us take this path, for we'll get to the next town two hours sooner,' said the traveller.

"The devil's cook was about to follow the stranger's advice, when he heard his master's words ringing in his ears: 'Always take the high road, and on no account go through lanes and byways.'

"He, therefore, told his fellow-traveller how he had pledged his word to his master to follow his advice. As neither could persuade the other, they parted company, promising each other to meet again at nightfall, at the neighbouring town.

"As soon as the devil's cook reached the inn where he was to spend the night, he asked for his new friend, and, on the morrow, he was grieved to hear that a wayfarer, answering to the traveller's description, had been murdered the day before, when crossing the lonely byway leading to the town.

"The devil's cook set out once more on his way, and he was soon overtaken by a party of merry pedlars, all journeying towards his native town, where, a few days afterwards, there was to be a fair held in honour of a patron saint. He made friends with all of them, especially as he bought silk kerchiefs, dresses and trinkets, as presents for his wife. They trudged along the high road, avoiding all short cuts, lanes and byways. In the evening they came to a large village, where they were to pa.s.s the night.

"'Let us stop here,' said one of the party, pointing to a tavern by the roadside; 'I know the landlord; the cooking is very good, nowhere can you get a better gla.s.s of wine; and besides, it is much cheaper than at the large inn farther down.'

"The devil's cook was already on the threshold, when he again remembered his master's words:

"'Never put up at little hostelries, but always stop at the larger inns.'

"He, therefore, parted from his company, and went off by himself to the next inn.

"He had his supper by himself, and then, being very tired, he went off to bed. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a very loud noise and a great bustle. He got out of bed, and, going to the window, he saw the sky all red, and the village seemed to be in flames. He went downstairs, and he was told that the little tavern by the roadside was burning. It appears that the travellers who had stopped there had all got drunk. Somehow or other they had set fire to the house, and, in their sleep, had all got burnt.

"The devil's cook was again grateful to his master for his good advice, and on the morrow he once more set out on his way alone.

"In the evening he at last reached his native town. He was surprised at the many changes that had taken place since he had left it twenty-five years before. On the square, just in front of his own house, a large inn had been built; therefore, instead of going at once to his wife's, he went to pa.s.s the night at the inn, and see what was taking place at home.