The Two Brothers
Once upon a time there were two brothers. One of them was very poor and lived in a small house with his wife and son. The other, who was unmarried, was very rich and lived in a large house.
The rich brother never did anything to help his less fortunate brother. He was much too busy showing off to his rich friends to have any time for his poor brother and his family. In fact, he was rather ashamed of him.
Naturally, the poor brother was very surprised when one day he received an invitation to a banquet to be given by his rich brother in his luxurious house. He couldn’t understand why his brother had bothered to invite him after such a long time, but he was delighted all the same. He had never set foot inside his brother’s house before.
He didn’t know that rich brother had recently been invited to an enormous banquet and wanted to show off to his host by giving an even bigger one in return.
This meant inviting as many people as possible, and he thought he might as well include his brother to swell the numbers.
On the day of the banquet the poor brother turned up half an hour early, because he was so anxious not to miss any of the fun. A footman took his coat at the door, holding it disdainfully between his finger and thumb as though it wasn’t very clean. Then he showed him into the banqueting hall.
The poor brother gasped in astonishment. There before him stretched an enormous table which ran the whole length of the vast room. And there, standing by the beautiful marble fireplace at the far end of the room was the other brother.
“Oh, so it’s only you,” he called. “I thought the real guests had begun to arrive.”
The poor brother wasn’t offended by this rudeness, because he knew that it was very kind of his rich brother to invite him at all. He took his knife and fork from his pocket ( he didn’t know that knives and forks were provided ), tucked his handkerchief into the neck of his blouse, and began the long walk up the room.
They shook hands, “So glad you could come,” said the rich brother, staring coldly at the knife and fork. And then he yawned.
The poor brother took a seat at the very top of the table, holding his knife and fork at the ready and licking his lips. He was hoping that the guests would arrive soon, as he hadn’t eat all day.
And sure enough after a few minutes the door at the far end opened and the first visitors walked in. They were dressed in fine clothes and made the poor brother feel quite shabby.
The rich brother shook their hands warmly, asked them about this and that, and then, smiling broadly, invited them to sit down.
“Do move down the table a bit,” he said to his brother, without introducing him, “and make room for my friends.”
Obligingly, the poor brother moved down a few places. He was thinking of the wonderful meal he was going to have and so he didn’t really mind the fact that the other guests ignored him.
Soon the door opened again and more expensively dressed people came in. Once more the rich brother turned to his poor brother and said,” Look, do move down the table a bit and let my friends sit down.” And once more he did.
Little by little the guests were arriving, and with each new arrival the poor brother had to move farther down. Finally the last guest arrived and the poor brother got up to find that he had reached the end of the table. He found himself standing by the door, without nowhere to sit.
Rather nervously he put up his hand to draw his brother’s attention. He knew it was rude to interrupt his conversation with his important friends, but he felt that he ought to be told that there weren’t enough places.
At last the rich brother looked up and saw his poor brother standing at the end or the crowded room with his hand up.
“Well ?” he snapped irritably. “What is it now ?”
“I’m very sorry to trouble you,” said the poor brother meekly,” but I have no place now. Where shall I go ?”
“Oh, go to the devil!” said the rich brother in a fit of exasperation. And for some reason all the guests burst into laughter.
Very sadly the poor brother left brightly lit room. In the hall he found his own coat, put his knife and fork back in his pocket, and removed his handkerchief. He gave his nose a blow and walked slowly down the drive.
He had no idea where he might find the devil but he thought that someone might able to tell him.
Presently he heard the roar and splash of a water-wheel and found himself standing by a mill. There on the low wall next to the mill-pool sat the miller, gazing gloomily into the water. The poor brother went up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said politely. “Could you tell me where I might find the devil ?”
“Down there, in the mill-pool, under the wheel,” came the miserable answer.” There are dozens of them down there. Curse them,” and the miller sighed.
“Thank you very much,” replied the poor brother. And then, to the miller’s utter amazement, he held his nose with his left hand and jumped into the water fully clothed.
The poor brother wasn’t’ quite sure what he expected to find in the pool but he certainly hadn’t expected to find that he could breathe down there. He floated down into an empty space which was like a corridor of fresh air with walls of water on either side. And, what’s more, it was perfectly light.
“The devils probably live along here,” he thought as he strolled along the dry path. Presently he found himself in front of a small hut and, looking up, he saw that it was built immediately below the mill-wheel.
He summoned up enough courage to knock on the door. No reply. He knocked again and waited. Still no reply. Very quietly he tried the handle of the door. It was unlocked and the door opened.
“Anyone at home ?” he called, putting his head inside. But there was only a kind of damped silence.
He crept into the room and was about to explore it when he heard a gibbering and chattering in the distance. It grew louder and louder and nearer and suitable hiding place and spotted a large table covered by a crimson velvet cloth with tassels on. Quick as a flash he dived under the table. And not a moment to soon, because a horde of little devils came pouring in through the open door.
From his position under the table the poor brother could hear them grabbling away to each other and chuckling evilly. Then he heard the scraping noise of chairs being drawn up to the table and found himself surrounded by smelly little feet and twitching tails.
He could hear everything they were saying.
“Who’s been the wickedest today ?” shrieked one little devil.
“I have,” sniggered another, “I crept inside an oven an burnt a whole batch of cakes!”
At this their legs started kicking about with glee.
“No, I have,” squalled another voice. “I nibbled through a washing-line and made all the clean clothes fall into the mud!”
“He ,” they all cried bouncing up and down in their seats.
“No, I have,” said another. “I’ve done something much more wicked than that. I have loosened the foundations of the mill and very soon the whole building
will collapse and tumble to the ground!”
The little devils were silent with admiration. “How beautifully evil,” said one at last.
But the devil who had burnt the cakes felt rather jealous and said, “That’s all very well. But what if the miller uses the magic remedy ? What if he takes a branch of hawthorn and a branch of dog-rose and buries them in the ground next to the mill, eh ?”
“He won’t,” shouted the others. “Because he doesn’t know about that.” And they all laughed wildly.
“Break’s over,” one of them called at last. “Time to go out and do some more nasty things.”
The poor brother heard the chairs scrape again and then open the door banged and the chattering noise disappeared into the distance.
When the hut was silent once more, he crept from his hiding place, opened the door quietly and peered out. There was no one in sight. So he ran down the air corridor and when he came to the end, he jumped upwards.
The next moment he found himself swimming to the side of the pool where the miller was still sitting.
“Are you worried about your mill?” asked the poor brother as he climbed out.
“Yes, I am.” said the miller. “Once of the little devils must be undermining the foundations. Soon it will crash to the ground and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“But there’s something I can do about it,” said the poor brother. “What will you give me if I save your mill ?”
“I’m a very rich man,” said the miller, “and I will give you a cart-load of gold.”
“Done !” shouted the poor brother and darted off into the bushes. Soon he returned with a branch of hawthorn and a branch of dog-rose and borrowing a spade from the miller, buried them in the ground next to the tumble-down mill.
Almost immediately there was a creaking sound and the mill pulled itself into an upright position. It looked as good as a new.
The miller was overjoyed. Seizing the poor brother by the hand he dragged him round to the stable behind the mill and heaped up a cart brim-full of golden coins. Then he harnessed his horse and drove the bewildered man home.
“Where do you want it ?” he asked, when they arrived.
“I think it ought to go indoors,” said the poor brother. And the astonishment of the poor brother’s wife and son, the grateful miler had soon pilled the little house knee-deep in golden coins. With that, he wished them goodbye and drove off.
The poor man and his wife agreed that although the coins were very nice they couldn’t really have them cluttering up the house like that. And so they decided to send their son to the rich brother and ask him for the loan of his horse and cart. The boy soon returned.
“He told me to tell you that you’ve got a nerve,” he said.
“Perhaps we should explain why we need a cart,” his mother suggested. “Run back and tell uncle about the money!”
This time the rich brother came himself, in his horse and cart, and he had obviously been driving very fast. He gaped in astonishment at the piles of gold which were spilling out of the windows and doors, and a greedy little gleam came into his eyes as he listened to his brother’s story.
“My dear brother,” he said at last. “Do make use of the cart. You know that I would never deny you anything of mine. Meanwhile, I have some urgent business to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.”
And without more ado he rushed out of the house and into the woods. When he reached the mill-pool he plunged straight into the water, eager to get some money like his brother.
Sure enough, he found that he could breath under the water in the air passage. And he, too, discovered the empty hut and went inside. His heart was beating loudly with excitement as he crouched under the table, ready to overhear the little devil’s plans.
He didn’t have to wait long. Soon they came streaming in and took up their places round the table.
“I have been betrayed!” scream one voice. “My plans to destroy the mill came to nothing, because someone knew about the hawthorn and dog-rose.”
“No one here would have let out the secret,” said another excited voice. “It must have been a stranger.”
“Do you remember that the door was open when we came in ?” piped another. “Perhaps there was an eavesdropper in the room.”
“Perhaps he’s here now!” they all screamed. And they rushed about the room frantically, looking in every nook and cranny until they found the rich brother, pale and trembling, beneath the table.
“We’ll teach you to spy on us,” they cried, biting and pinching and scratching him. And, lifting him above their heads, they rushed outside and threw him into the real water, where he drowned.
The poor brother, no longer poor, lived happily ever after with his wife and son.
