THE TWO LITTLE PEPPER CORN OXEN

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8612, 24 December 1913, Page 9

THE TWO LITTLE PEPPER CORN OXEN

ONCE there was, I do not know where, one side of the Operenz Sea a large lake, and in the middle a large island; in the midde of the island there was a high mountain and on top of it a high tree that was a thousand and one years old.- This tree had ninetynine branches; on the ninety-ninth branch was dangling a knapsack, with ninety-nine secret drawers, where, in .the ninety-ninth drawer, was kept the ninety-nine leaved diary of my Uncle Saint Louis, and upon the ninety-ninth leaf were written the following words: “Who won’t’listen to me will never see heaven, but who will listen, to him the nose shall bend like the key’s nose of the door.” Well, now, once upon a time there was a very, very poor man; in his neighbourhood was living one who was poorer still than himself. He had a son and the other a daughter. So the poor people made up their minds to bring tho two young people together, and so they were married and were very happy. The young woman- said once to her husband: —“Listen to mol. It is true that you are no Catholic, but just once do fast of a Friday.’? ■ The young man followed her advice and ato not a single bite on Friday, but got nothing for it. “Well,” he thought, “it may be after several fasting days I” and so he went on fasting the second Friday, and then the third, and all at once he became so used to it that ho did not eat a thing for seven Fridays. Tho young man pondered awhile, and then ho said to his wife:—-“Listen, wife. Bake mo an ash cake. I am going away.” Tho woman baked tho ash cake and tho poor man started out. Towards noon ho arrived in the Herccz wood. There ho found at the edge of tho forest an old man tilling tho ground with two oxen that were as largo as a pepper corn. They greeted each other and the old man asked what brought the poor man hero.

“l am going to the priest,” replied the poor man. “I was fasting seven Fridays and ho gave me nothing for it.” . “Don’t bother with that,” said the old man, “I give you these two little pepper corn oxen; with these you can make a living; only.do not sell them to anybody, no matter how much you may be offered for them 1” The poor man drove the presented animals home and tho nest day early in the morning he went with them back in tho wood. Tho waggon ho picked up here and there, somebody gave tho wheels, another the thill, someone else again tho axle, and so ho patched it together. Ho dared not load up more than two stems, though, for he trusted his little oxen not at all. But they were Taltoshes (magic animals) and when about to drive them on, one commenced to talk:—• “What do you think, sir, to load up only these two poles? Pack up thoroughly so that the waggon will creak, for we are ashamed to drive into the village with these two pioles only.” The poor man only shook his head, but he determined to pack the waggon up as much as he could. When they wore coming out of the forest they met the Count and the bailiff. They almost fell on their backs when they saw that such tiny little bits ■ of oxen drew that heavy wood waggon. The Count asked, “For how much do you sell those oxen, you poor man?” “They are not for sale, noble Count,” replied tho man. And now the Count got awfully angry. He told the poor man that if he wouldn’t plough up) tho large Herecz wood and sow and harrow it in one day he would lose his oxen. Ah! How the poor man worried! What could ho do? “Don’t worry a bit, sir,” said one of tho little oxen, entering into the conversation; “only get us ploughing utensils; the rest will be our care.” Well, ho got the utensils all right. Someone gave the cart wheels, another again a pickaxe' and a third one a ploughshare, short irons, long irons, and in a minute tho plough was to-

gether. They marched out in tho Herecz wood, and then said one ox: — “Just lie down yonder and sleep, sir; we are going to do all tho rest.” The man did as they told him; ho lay down and went to sleep. When ho woke up tho field was already beautifully harrowed. Then they returned home. He sent a message to the bailiff that the worli was all done. The bailiff and the Count went to see whether it was true; they walked over the whole place until the end. Now a hair is not much, but not even that much fault, could they discover with the work. “Now, you poor man,” said the Count then, “if you don’t get in my whole fodder all and everything, in one day your oxen will be taken away from you, lot mo tell you that.” Tho poor man was extremely sad again, but tho little pepper corn oxen comforted him:—“Don’t you worry about it, sir! Just lie down in yonder furrow and go to sleep; tho rest will bo our care.” And really they got in the immense quantity of fodder in one day. They packed up the whole on a waggon so high that the poor man could not see the topmost at all. When they reached the castle the poor man went in to the Count and said: — “Noble Sir Count, I brought the fodder here, but if you don’t remove the castle from its place we will have no room for tho waggon in the courtyard.” “Now listen, you poor man!” said the Count. “If you don’t drive mo together with tho bailiff to the evil place you will remain without the oxen. I want to see tho evil place and what is going on there!” Ah! tho poor man gave way to his grief. How could he drive there when he had never been near it ? So one little ox began to talk: — “Don’t grieve about that, sir! They are longing just for the right place; that’s where they both belong.” The poor man drove before tho door with tho high laden waggon; the Count and the bailiff mounted, and the two little oxen started for the evil province. Towards evening they arrived at the evil place. The little pep-

A HUNGARIAN FAIRY TALE «■ = - - ' B

per corn oxen rushed against the door, and knocked it in with their horns; then the Count walked in very elegantly and the bailiff, too. “And now, sir, close the door quickly,” cried one of the little oxen. The poor man did it really, and neither the Count nor the bailiff could ever return to the outer world. But the poor man lived happily until nowadays, if ho hasn’t died. MIXED METAPHORS Tho good wine needs no bush, yet I sow My wild oats under tho rose; And 1 pluck sour grapes from a thorn in the flesh Where the crumpled rose-leaf grows. I show the white feather that flocks toEe t ber. I picK the crow as it flies; There's a flash in the pan of my Parthian host And the green-eyed monster dies. I eat the leek with a grain of salt. Though my salad days are o’er; I give the hay straw to the golden calf. To keep the wolf from the door. I mounted my hobby to go to the dogs. And I won my spurs as I passed. For I scotched the earliest worm as it turned Down tho long lane at last. I have crossed tho Rubicon, burned my boats. As I fled from chimaerae dire; And tbo oil on the waters smelt of tho lamp. When I set the Thames on fire. My geese are all swans, and their golden eggs In a mare’s nest mostly are laid; And I fear I have let the cat out of tho bag, The ugh I meant to have belled her instead. —Frank Ritchie.