This is an old,old story which my grandmother told me when I was a little girl.When she was a little girl her grandfather had told it to her,and when he was a little peasant boy in Bohemia,his mother had told it to him.And where she heard it,I don't know,but you can see it is an old old story,and here it is,the way my grandmother used to tell it.
It is called―
This man,his name was Fritzl—his wife,her name was Liesi.They had a little baby,Kinndli by name,and Spitz who was a dog.
They had one cow,two goats,three pigs,and of geese they had a dozen.That's what they had.
They lived on a patch of land,and that's where they worked.
Fritzl had to plow the ground,sow the seeds and hoe the weeds.He had to cut the hay and rake it too,and stack it up in bunches in the sun.The man worked hard,you see,from day to day.
Liesi had the house to clean,the soup to cook,the butter to churn,the barn yard and the baby to care for.She,too,worked hard each day as you can plainly see.
They both worked hard,but Fritzl always thought that he worked harder.Evenings when he came home from the field,he sat down,mopped his face with his big red handkerchief,and said:"Hu!How hot it was in the sun today,and how hard I did work.Little do you know,Liesi,what a man's work is like,little do you know!Your work now,'tis nothing at all."
"'Tis none too easy,"said Liesi.
"None too easy!"cried Fritzl."All you do is to putter and potter around the house a bit—surely there's nothing hard about such things."
"Nay,if you think so,"said Liesi,"we'll take it turn and turn about tomorrow.I will do your work,you can do mine.I will go out in the fields and cut the hay,you can stay here at home and putter and potter around.You wish to try it—yes?"
Fritzl thought he would like that well enough—to lie on the grass and keep an eye on his Kinndli-girl,to sit in the cool shade and churn,to fry a bit of sausage and cook a little soup.Ho!That would be easy!Yes,yes,he'd try it.
Well,Liesi lost no time the next morning.There she was at peep of day,striding out across the fields with a jug of water in her hand and the scythe over her shoulder.
And Fritzl,where was he?He was in the kitchen,frying a string of juicy sausages for his breakfast.There he sat,holding the pan over the fire,and as the sausage was sizzling and frizzling in the pan,Fritzl was lost in pleasant thoughts.
"A mug of cider now,"that's what he was thinking."A mug of apple cider with my sausage—that would be just the thing."
No sooner thought than done.
Fritzl set the pan on the edge of the fire place,and went down into the cellar where there was a big barrel full of cider.He pulled the bung from the barrel and watched the cider spurt into his mug,sparkling and foaming so that it was a joy to see.
But Hulla!What was that noise up in the kitchen—such a scuffle and clatter!Could it be that Spitz-dog after the sausages?Yes,that's what it was,and when Fritzl reached the top of the stairs,there he was,that dog,dashing out of the kitchen door with the string of juicy sausages flying after him.
Fritzl made for him,crying,"Hulla!Hulla!Hey,hi,ho,hulla!"
But the dog wouldn't stop.Fritzl ran,Spitz ran too.Fritzl ran fast,Spitz ran faster,and the end of it was that the dog got away and our Fritzl had to give up the chase.
"Na,na!What's gone is gone."said Fritzl,shrugging his shoulders.And so he turned back,puffing and panting,and mopping his face with his big red handkerchief.
But the cider,now!Had he put the bung back in the barrel?No,that he hadn't,for here he was still holding the bung in his fist.
With big fast steps Fritzl hurried home,but it was too late,for look!the cider had filled the mug and had run all over the cellar besides.
Fritzl looked at the cellar full of cider.Then he scratched his head and said,"Na,na!What's gone is gone."
Well,now it was high time to churn the butter.Fritzl filled the churn with good rich cream,took it under a tree and began to churn with all his might.His little Kinndli was out there too,playing Moo-cow among the daisies.The sky was blue,the sun right gay and golden,and the flowers,they were like angels'eyes blinking in the grass.
"This is pleasant now,"thought Fritzl,as he churned away."At last I can rest my weary legs.But wait!What about the cow?I've forgotten all about her and she hasn't had a drop of water all morning,poor thing."
With big fast steps Fritzl ran to the barn,carrying a bucket of cool fresh water for the cow.And high time it was,I can tell you,for the poor creature's tongue was hanging out of her mouth with the long thirst that was in her.
She was hungry too,as a man could well see by the looks of her,so Fritzl took her from the barn and started off with her to the green grassy meadow.
