The Story of the Brother Who Knew That Good Was Stronger Than EvilThe Story of the Brother Who Knew That Good Was Stronger Than Evil
There was once a rich man who had two sons. The older son was overbearing, greedy, and covetous. He was dishonest, too, and thought nothing of taking things that belonged to others. The younger brother was gentle and kind. He was always ready to share what he had and he was never known to cheat or to steal.
"He's little better than a fool!" the older brother used to say of him scornfully.
When the brothers grew to manhood the old father died leaving directions that they divide his wealth between them, share and share alike.
"Nonsense!" the older brother said. "That fool would only squander his inheritance! To every poor beggar that comes along he'd give an alms until soon my poor father's savings would be all gone! No! I'll give him three golden ducats and a horse and tell him to get out and if he makes a fuss I won't give him that much!"
So he said to his younger brother:
"You're a fool and you oughtn't to have a penny from our father's estate. However, I'll give you three golden ducats and a horse on condition that you clear out and never come back."
"Brother," the younger one said quietly, "you are doing me a wrong."
"What if I am?" sneered the older. "Wrong is stronger than Right just as I am stronger than you. Be off with you now or I'll take from you even these three golden ducats and the horse!"
Without another word the younger brother mounted the horse and rode away.
Time went by and at last the brothers chanced to meet on the highway.
"God bless you, brother!" the younger one said.
"Don't you go God-blessing me, you fool!" the older one shouted. "It isn't God who is powerful in this world but the Devil!"
"No, brother," the other said, "you are wrong. God is stronger than the Devil just as Good is stronger than Evil."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Yes, brother, I'm sure."
"Well, then, let us make a wager. I'll wager you a golden ducat that Evil is stronger than Good and we'lllet the first man we meet on this road decide which of us is right. Do you agree?"
"Yes, brother, I agree."
They rode a short distance and overtook a man who seemed to be a monk. He wasn't really a monk but the Devil himself disguised in the habit of a monk. The older brother put the case to him and the false monk at once answered:
"That's an easy question to decide. Of course Evil is stronger than Good in this world."
Without a word the younger brother took out one of his golden ducats and handed it over.
"Now," sneered the older one, "are you convinced?"
"No, brother, I am not. No matter what this monk says I know that Good is stronger than Evil."
"You do, do you? Then suppose we repeat the wager and ask the next man we meet to decide between us."
"Very well, brother, I'm willing."
The next man they overtook looked like an old farmer, but in reality he was the Devil again who had taken the guise of a farmer. They put the question to him and of course the Devil made the same answer:
"Evil is stronger than Good in this world."
So again the younger brother paid his wager but insisted that he still believed Good to be stronger than Evil.
"Then we'll make a third wager," the other said.
With the Devil's help the older brother won the third golden ducat which was all the money the younger one had. Then the older brother suggested that they wager their horses and the Devil, disguised in another form, again acted as umpire and the younger one of course lost his horse.
"Now I have nothing more to lose," he said, "but I am still so sure that Good is stronger than Evil that I am willing to wager the very eyes out of my head!"
"The more fool you!" the other one cried brutally.
Without another word he knocked his younger brother down and gouged out his eyes.
"Now let God take care of you if He can! As for me I put my trust in the Devil!"
"May God forgive you for speaking so!" the younger one said.
"I don't care whether He does or not! Nothing can harm me! I'm strong and I'm rich and I know how to take care of myself. As for you, you poor blind beggar, is there anything you would like me to do for you before I ride away?"
Vilas at PlayVilas at Play
"All I ask of you, brother, is that you lead me tothe spring that is under the fir tree not far from here. There I can bathe my wounds and sit in the shade."
"I'll do that much for you," the older one said, taking the blinded man by the hand. "For the rest, God will have to take care of you."
With that he led him over to the fir tree and left him. The blinded man groped his way to the spring and bathed his wounds, then sat down under the tree and prayed God for help and protection.
When night came he fell asleep and he slept until midnight when he was awakened by the sound of voices at the spring. A company of Vilas were bathing and playing as they bathed. He was blind, as you remember, so he couldn't see their beautiful forms but he knew that they must be Vilas from their voices which were as sweet as gurgling waters and murmuring treetops. Human voices are never half so lovely. Yes, they must be Vilas from the mountains and the woods.
"Ho, sisters!" cried one of them, "if only men knew that we bathed in this spring, they could come to-morrow and be healed in its water—the maimed and the halt and blind! To-morrow this water would heal even the king's daughter who is afflicted with leprosy!"
When they were gone the blind man crept down to the spring and bathed his face. At the first touch of the healing water his wounds closed and his sight was restored. With a heart full of gratitude he knelt down and thanked God for the miracle. Then when morning came he filled a vessel with the precious water and hurried to the king's palace.
"Tell the king," he said to the guards, "that I have come to heal his daughter."
The king admitted him at once to the princess's chamber and said to him:
"If you succeed in healing the princess you shall have her in marriage and in addition I shall make you heir to my kingdom."
The moment the princess was bathed in the healing water she, too, was restored to health and at once the proclamation was sent forth that the princess was recovered and was soon to marry the man who had cured her.
Now when the evil older brother heard who this fortunate man was, he could scarcely contain himself for rage and envy.
"How did that fool get back his sight?" he asked himself. "What magic secret did he discover that enabled him to heal the princess of leprosy? Whatever itwas he got it under the fir tree for where else could he have got it? I've a good mind to go to the fir tree myself to-night and see what happens."
The more he thought about it the surer he became that if he went to the fir tree in exactly the same condition as his brother he, too, would have some wonderful good fortune. So when night came he seated himself under the tree, gouged out his eyes with a knife, and then waited to see what would happen. At midnight he heard the Vilas at the spring but their voices were not sweet but shrill and angry.
"Sisters," they cried to each other, "have you heard? The princess is healed of leprosy and it was with the water of this, our spring! Who has spied on us?"
"While we were talking last night," said one, "some man may have been hiding under the fir tree."
"Let us see if there is any one there to-night!" cried another.
With that they all rushed to the fir tree and took the man they found sitting there and in a fury tore him to pieces as though he were a bit of old cloth. So that was the end of the wicked older brother. And you will notice that in his hour of need his friend, the Devil, was not on hand to help him.
So after all it was the younger brother who finally inherited all his father's wealth. In addition he married the princess and was made heir to the kingdom. So you see Good is stronger than Evil in this world.
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The Story of the Man Who Understood the Language of the AnimalsThe Story of the Man Who Understood the Language of the Animals
There was once a young shepherd, an honest industrious fellow, who passed most of his time in the hills looking after his master's flocks. One afternoon he happened upon a bush which some gipsies had set a-fire. As he stopped to watch it he heard a strange hissing, whistling sound. He went as close as he could and in the center of the bush which the flames had not yet reached he saw a snake. It was writhing and trembling in fear.
"Help me, brother!" the snake said. "Help me and I will reward you richly! I swear I will!"
The shepherd put the end of his crook over the flames and the snake crawled up the crook, up the shepherd's arm, and wound itself about his neck.
It was now the shepherd's turn to be frightened.
"What! Will you kill me as a reward for my kindness?"
"Nay," the snake said. "Do not be afraid. I will not injure you. Do as I tell you and you will have nothing to regret. My father is the Tsar of the Snakes.Take me to him and he will reward you for rescuing me."
"But I can't leave my flocks," the shepherd said.
"Have no fear about your flocks. Nothing will happen to them in your absence."
"But I don't know where your father, the Tsar of the Snakes, lives," the shepherd protested.
"I'll show you," the snake said. "I'll point out the direction with my tail."
So in spite of his misgivings the shepherd at last agreed to the snake's suggestion and, leaving his sheep in God's care, started up the mountainside in the direction which the snake pointed out with his tail.
They reached finally a sort of pocket in the hills which was sandy and rocky and exposed to the full force of the sun. The snake directed the shepherd to the entrance of a cave which had a huge door composed entirely of living snakes closely wound together. The shepherd's snake said something in his breathy whistling voice and the door pulled itself apart and allowed the shepherd to enter the cave.
"Now," whispered the snake, "when my father asks you what you want, tell him you want the gift of understanding the language of the animals. He will try togive you something else but don't you accept anything else."
The Tsar of the Snakes was a huge creature clothed in a gorgeous skin of red and yellow and black. They found him reclining on a golden table with a crown of precious jewels on his head.
"My son!" he cried, when he saw the snake that was still wound about the shepherd's neck, "where have you been? We have been grieving for you thinking you had met some misfortune."
"But for this shepherd, my father," the snake said, "I should have been burned to death. He rescued me."
Then he told the Tsar of the Snakes the whole story. The Tsar of the Snakes listened carefully and when the Snake Prince was finished he turned to the shepherd and said:
"Sir, I am deeply indebted to you for saving my son's life. Ask of me anything I can grant and it is yours."
"Give me then," the shepherd said, "the gift of understanding the language of the animals."
"Not that!" the Tsar of the Snakes cried. "It is too dangerous a gift! If ever you confessed to some other human being that you had this gift and repeatedwhat some animal said you would die that instant. Ask something else—anything else!"
"No," the shepherd insisted. "Give me that or nothing!"
When the Tsar of the Snakes saw that the shepherd was not to be dissuaded, he said:
"Very well, then. What must be, must be. Come now very close to me and put your mouth against my mouth. Do you breathe three times into my mouth and I shall breathe three times into your mouth. Then you will understand the language of the animals."
So the shepherd put his mouth close to the mouth of the Tsar of the Snakes and breathed into it three times. Then the Tsar of the Snakes breathed into the shepherd's mouth three times.
"Now you will understand the language of all animals," the Tsar of the Snakes said. "It is a dangerous gift but if you remember my warning it may bring you great prosperity. Farewell."
So the shepherd went back to his flocks and lay down under a fir tree to rest. Presently he wondered whether he hadn't been asleep and dreamed about the burning bush and the snake and the Tsar of the Snakes.
"It can't be real!" he said to himself. "How can I or any man understand the language of the animals!"
The Tsar of the Snakes Listened CarefullyThe Tsar of the Snakes Listened Carefully
Just then two ravens alighted on the tree above his head.
"Caw! Caw!" said one of them. "Wouldn't that shepherd be surprised if he knew he was lying on some buried treasure!"
"Caw! Caw!" laughed the other. "He'll never know for he's only one of those poor stupid human beings who can't understand a word we say!"
The ravens flew off and the shepherd sat up and rubbed his eyes to make sure he was awake.
"Am I dreaming again?" he asked himself, "or did I really understand them? Well, I'll soon find out. To-morrow I'll bring a spade and then if there's any treasure buried under this tree I won't be long in digging it up."
He marked the spot where he had been lying when the ravens spoke and the next day came back and dug. Three feet below the surface his spade hit something that proved to be a big iron pot chock-full of golden ducats.
He carried the treasure to his master and his master was so pleased at his honesty that he gave him half of it.
So now the shepherd was able to set up in life for himself. He bought a farm and married and "settleddown" as the saying is. The years went by and he grew prosperous and rich.
One Christmas Eve he said to his wife:
"I'm thinking, wife, of my youth when I was a shepherd and how lonely it was at times like this when other folk were at home seated about the fire and making merry. Let us give our shepherds out on the hills a surprise to-night. We can take them meats and wine and other food and then I'll go out and guard the sheep while you serve them a fine Christmas supper."
His wife agreed and they mounted their horses and rode out to the hills taking with them great hampers of food and wine. The wife entertained the shepherds in their hut with a big jolly supper and the master stayed outside all night with the dogs guarding the sheep.
At midnight some wolves came prowling around the flocks.
"See here," they said to the dogs, "if you let us in we'll kill the sheep and then we'll divide the carcasses with you."
The dogs for the most part were young and thoughtless and ready enough to fall in with the wolves' suggestion. But there was one old sheepdog that nothing could tempt.
"I've only a few teeth left!" he growled, "but thosefew are still sound and let any wolf come a step nearer and I'll tear him to pieces!"
All night long that one old sheepdog stood on guard faithful to duty.
In the morning the master ordered the shepherds to kill the young dogs and train in new ones.
The shepherds were surprised.
"The master's a clever one!" they told each other. "Just one night and he found out how worthless those young dogs were!"
As the farmer and his wife were riding home, the farmer's horse ran on ahead.
"Not so fast!" begged the mare that the wife was riding. "Have pity on me and go more slowly. You have only the master to carry while I'm all laden down with hampers and empty jugs and I don't know what and with a mistress that's twice as big as she was a few months ago!"
The farmer when he heard the mare's complaint burst out laughing.
"What are you laughing at?" his wife asked sharply.
"Nothing," the farmer said.
"You're laughing at me!" the wife declared, "I know you are, just because I'm so big that I'm awkward in the saddle!"
"No, my dear, I'm not laughing at you, truly I'm not."
"You are! I know you are and I don't think it's kind of you, either!" And the wife burst into tears.
"Now, my dear," the husband said, soothingly, "be sensible and believe me when I tell you I was not laughing at you."
"Then what were you laughing at?"
"I can't tell you because if I did tell you then I should die the next moment."
"Die the next moment!" the wife said. "Stuff and nonsense! It must be a strange thing indeed if a man can't tell his own wife for fear he'll die the next moment!"
The more she thought about it the more enraged she became and also the more curious.
"If you really loved me, you'd tell me!" she wept.
All the way home she kept on worrying her husband and nagging at him until at last in utter exhaustion he said:
"Peace, woman, peace, and I'll tell you! But first let me have my coffin made for as I've warned you I shall die the moment I've spoken."
So he had the village carpenter build him a coffinand when it was ready he stood it up on end against the house and got inside of it.
The news of what was about to happen spread among the animals and the faithful old sheepdog hurried down from the hills to be with his master at the end. He lay down at the foot of the coffin and howled.
"I've one faithful friend!" the farmer said. "Wife, give the poor dog some bread before I tell you my secret and die."
The woman threw the old dog a hunk of bread but the dog refused it and kept on howling.
The rooster from the barnyard came running up and began gobbling down the bread with great gusto.
"You shameless animal!" the dog said sternly. "Here's the poor master about to die on account of that foolish inquisitive wife of his and yet you have so little feeling that you're delighted at the chance to gorge yourself with food!"
The rooster clucked scornfully.
"See here, old dog, I can't waste any sympathy on that master of ours! Any man who allows his wife to bully him deserves whatever he gets! Look at me!" The rooster puffed out his chest and gave a loud: "Cock-a-doodle-do! I've got fifty wives but do they bully me? They do not! Whenever I find a nice fatworm or a grain of corn I set up an awful noise and gather them all around me. Then I eat it while they stand there and admire me! No, no, old dog, I have no patience with the master! He has only one wife and he doesn't know how to rule her!"
"The rooster's right!" thought the farmer.
With that he jumped out of the coffin, picked up a stick, and gave his wife a sound beating.
"So you'd kill your husband just to satisfy your curiosity, would you?" he shouted angrily. "Very well, then! Take this and this and this! And if your curiosity is still unsatisfied I'll give you some more!"
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" cried the wife. "Do you want to injure me!"
But the farmer did not stop until he had given her such a whipping that she never forgot it. When it was over she begged his pardon humbly and promised never again to ask him anything that he didn't want to tell her.
"You just mustn't let me be so foolish again!" she said.
"I won't!" the farmer declared.
Then he puffed out his chest and strutted about until you'd have laughed to see him—he looked so much like the rooster!
The Story of the Poor Man Who Befriended a BeggarThe Story of the Poor Man Who Befriended a Beggar
There were once three brothers who lived in the same village. One of them was very rich. He had houses and fields and barns. He had nothing to spend his money on for he had no children and his wife was as saving and hardworking as himself. The second brother was not so rich but he, too, was prosperous. He had one son and all his thought was to accumulate money and property in order to leave his son rich. He schemed and worked and slaved and made his wife do the same.
The third brother was industrious but very poor. He worked early and late and never took a holiday. He couldn't afford to for he had a wife and ten children and only by working every hour of the day and often far into the night could he earn enough to buy food for so large a family. He was a simple man and a good man and he taught his children that the most important thing for them to do in life was to love God and be kind to their fellowmen.
Now it happened that once, when our Lord Christ was on earth testing out the hearts of men, he came inthe guise of a beggar to the village where the three brothers lived. He came in a brokendown cart driving a wheezy old horse. It was cold and raining and night was falling.
The Beggar knocked at the door of the richest brother and said:
"I pray you in God's name give shelter for the night to me and my horse."
"What!" cried the rich man, "do you suppose I have nothing better to do than give shelter to such as you! Be off with you or I'll call my men and have them give you the beating you deserve!"
The Beggar left without another word and went to the house of the next brother. He was civil at least to the Beggar and pretended that he was sorry to refuse him.
"I'd accommodate you if I could," he said, "but the truth is I can't. My house isn't as big as it looks and I have many people dependent on me. Just go on a little farther and I'm sure you'll find some one who will take you in."
The Beggar turned his horse's head and went to the tiny little house where the poor brother lived with his big family. He knocked on the door and begged for shelter.
"Come in, brother," said the Poor Man. "We're pretty crowded here but we'll find a place for you."
"And my horse," the Beggar said; "I'm afraid to leave him out in the rain and cold."
"We'll stable him with my donkey," the Poor Man said. "Do you come in here by the fire and dry off and I'll see to the horse."
The Poor Man pulled out his own cart until it was exposed to the rain in order to make a dry place in the shed for the Beggar's cart. Then he led the Beggar's gaunt horse into his tiny stable and fed him for the night out of his own slender store of oats and hay.
He and his family shared their evening meal with the Beggar and then made up for him a bed of straw near the fire where he was able to pass the night comfortably and warmly.
The next morning as he was leaving he said to the Poor Man:
"You must come sometime to my house and visit me and let me return the hospitality you have shown me."
"Where do you live?" the Poor Man asked.
"You can always find me," the Beggar said, "by following the tracks of my cart. You will know them because they are broader than the tracks of any other cart. You will come, won't you?"
"Yes," the Poor Man promised, "I will if ever I have time."
They bade each other good-by and the Beggar drove slowly off. Then the Poor Man went to the shed to get his own cart and the first thing he saw were two large silver bolts lying on the ground.
"They must have fallen from the Beggar's cart!" he thought to himself and he ran out to the road to see whether the Beggar were still in sight. But he and the cart had disappeared.
"I hope he has no accident on account of those bolts!" the Poor Man said.
When he went to the stable to get his donkey he found four golden horse-shoes where the Beggar's horse had been standing.
"Four golden horse-shoes!" he exclaimed. "I ought to return them and the silver bolts at once! But I can't to-day, I'm too busy. Well, I'll hide them safely away and some afternoon when I have a few hours to spare I'll follow the tracks of the cart to the Beggar's house."
That afternoon he met his two rich brothers and told them about the Beggar.
"Silver bolts!" cried one.
"Golden horse-shoes!" cried the other. "Take us home with you and let us see them!"
So they went home with the Poor Man and saw for themselves the silver bolts and the golden horse-shoes.
"Brothers," the Poor Man said, "if either of you have time I wish you'd take these things and return them to the Beggar."
They both said, no, no, they hadn't time, but they would like to know where the Beggar lived.
"He said I could always find him," the Poor Man said, "by following the tracks of his cart."
"The tracks of his cart!" echoed the other two. "Show us the tracks of his cart!"
They went to the shed where the cart had been and followed the tracks out to the road. Even on the road they were easy to see for besides being wider than any other cart tracks they shone white like glistening silver.
"H'm! H'm!" murmured the two rich brothers.
"You don't think either of you have time to follow them to the Beggar's house?" the Poor Man said.
"No! Of course not! Of course not!" they both answered.
But in his heart each had already decided to go at once and see for himself what kind of a Beggar this waswho had silver bolts in his cart and golden shoes on his horse.
The oldest brother went the very next day driving a new wagon and a fine horse. The silver tracks led through woods and fields and over hills. They came at last to a river which was spanned by a wooden bridge. It was cunningly constructed of timbers beautifully hewn. The rich man had never seen such wood used on a bridge.
By the roadside beyond the bridge there was a pigsty with one trough full of corn and another full of water. There were two sows in the sty and they were fighting each other and tearing at each other and paying no attention whatever to all the good food in the trough.
A little farther on there was another river and over it another wonderful bridge, this one made entirely of stone.
Beyond it the rich man came to a meadow where there was a hayrick around which two angry bulls were chasing each other and goring each other until the blood spurted.
"I wonder some one doesn't stop them!" the rich man thought to himself.
The next river had an iron bridge, more beautiful thanthe rich man had ever supposed an iron bridge could be.
Beyond the iron bridge there was a field and a bush and two angry rams that were chasing each other around the bush and fighting. Their horns cracked as they met and their hides were torn and bleeding where they had gored each other.
"I never saw so many angry fighting animals!" the rich man thought to himself.
The next bridge glowed in the sun like the embers of a fire for it was built entirely of shining copper—copper rivets, copper plates, copper beams, nothing but copper.
The silver tracks led over the copper bridge into a broad valley. By the roadside there was a high crossbar from which depended heavy cuts of meat—lamb and pork and veal. Two large bitch dogs were jumping at the meat and then snarling and snapping at each other.
The next bridge was the loveliest of them all for it was built of white gleaming silver.
The rich man climbed down from his wagon and examined it closely.
"It would be worth a man's while to carry home a piece of this bridge!" he muttered to himself.
He tried the rivets, he shook the railing. At last he found four loose bolts which he was able to pull out.The four together were so heavy that he was scarcely able to lift them. He looked cautiously about and when he saw that no one was looking, he slipped them one by one into the bottom of his wagon and covered them with straw. Then he turned his horse's head and drove home as fast as he could. It was midnight when he got there and nobody about to spy on him as he hid the silver bolts in the hay.
The next day when he went out alone to gloat over his treasure he found instead of four heavy silver bolts four pieces of wood!
So that's what the rich brother got for following the silver tracks.
A day or two later without saying a word to any one, the second brother decided that he would follow the silver tracks and have a look at the strange Beggar whose cart had silver bolts and whose wheezy horse had golden shoes.
"Perhaps if I keep my wits about me I'll be able to pick up a few golden horse-shoes. Not many boys inherit golden horse-shoes from their fathers!"
The Beggar's GardenThe Beggar's Garden
Well, the second brother went over exactly the same route and sawexactly the same things. He crossed all those wonderful bridges that his brother had crossed—the woodenbridge, the stone bridge, the iron bridge, the copper bridge, the silver bridge, and he saw all those angry animals still trying to gore each other to death.
He didn't stop at the silver bridge for he thought to himself:
"Perhaps the next bridge will be golden and if it is I may be able to break off a piece of it!"
Beyond the silver bridge was another broad valley and the second brother saw many strange sights as he drove through. There was a man standing alone in a field and trying to beat off a flock of ravens that were swooping down and pecking at his eyes. Near him was an old man with snow-white hair who was making loud outcries to heaven praying to be delivered from the two oxen who were munching at his white hair as though it were so much hay. They ate great wisps of it and the more they ate the more grew out.
There was an apple-tree heavily laden with ripe fruit and a hungry man forever reaching up and plucking an apple. The apples were apples of Sodom and always as the hungry man raised each new one to his mouth it turned to ashes.
In another place a thirsty man was reaching with a dipper into a well and always, just as he was about to scoop up some water, the well moved away from under the dipper.
"What a strange country this is!" thought the second brother as he drove on.
At last he reached the next bridge and sure enough it was shining gold! Every part of it—bolts and beams and pillars, all were gold. In great excitement the second brother climbed down from his wagon and began pulling and wrenching at various parts of the bridge hoping to find some loose pieces which he could break off. At last he succeeded in pulling out four long bolts which were so heavy he could scarcely lift them. After looking about in all directions to make sure that no one saw him, he put them into his wagon and covered them up with straw. Then he drove homewards as fast as he could.
"Ha! Ha!" he chuckled as he hid the golden bolts in the barn. "My son will now be a richer man than my brother!"
He could scarcely sleep with thinking of his golden treasure and at the first light of morning he slipped out to the barn. Imagine his rage when he found in the straw four bolts of wood!
So that was all the second brother got for following the silver tracks.
Well, years went by and the Poor Man worked day after day and all day and often far into the night. Someof his children died and the rest grew up and went out into the world and married and made homes of their own. Then at last his good wife died and the time came when the Poor Man was old and all alone in the world.
One night as he sat on his doorstep thinking of his wife and of his children when they were little and of all the years he had worked for them to keep them fed and clothed, he happened to remember the Beggar and the promise he had made to visit him sometime.
"And to think of all the years I've kept his golden horse-shoes and his silver bolts! Well, he'll forgive me, I know," thought the Poor Man, "for he'll understand that I've always been too busy up to this time ever to follow the tracks of his cart. I wonder are they still there."
He went out to the roadside and peered down and how it happened I don't know, but to his dim eyes at least there were the silver tracks as clear as ever.
"Good!" cried the Poor Man. "To-morrow morning bright and early I'll hitch up the donkey and visit my old friend, the Beggar!"
So the next day he took out the silver bolts and the goldenhorse-shoesfrom the place where he had kept them hidden all these years and he put them in a bag. Then he hitched his old donkey to his old cart andstarted out to follow the silver tracks to the Beggar's home.
Well, he saw just exactly the same things that his brothers had seen those many years before: all those terrible fighting animals and all those unfortunate men.
"I'll have to remember and ask the Beggar what ails all these creatures," he thought to himself.
Like his brothers he passed over the wooden bridge and the stone bridge and the iron bridge and the copper bridge and the silver bridge and even the golden bridge. Beyond the golden bridge he came to a Garden that was surrounded by a high wall of diamonds and rubies and sapphires and all kinds of precious stones that blazed as brightly as the sun itself. The silver tracks turned in at the garden gate which was locked.
The poor man climbed down from his cart, unhitched the donkey, and set him out to graze on the tender grass that grew by the wayside.
Then he took the bag that held the golden horse-shoes and the silver bolts and he went to the garden gate. It was a very wonderful gate of beaten gold set with precious stones. For a moment the Poor Man wondered if he dare knock at so rich a gate, then he remembered that his friend the Beggar was inside and he knew that he would be made welcome.
It was the Beggar himself who opened the gate. When he saw the Poor Man he smiled and held out his hands and said:
"Welcome, dear friend! I have been waiting for you all these years! Come in and I will show you my Garden."
So the Poor Man went inside. And first of all he gave the Beggar his golden horse-shoes and his silver bolts.
"Forgive me," he said, "for keeping them so long, but I've never had time until now to return them."
The Beggar smiled.
"I knew, dear friend, that they were safe with you and that you would bring them some day."
Then the Beggar put his arm over the Poor Man's shoulder and led him through the Garden showing him the wonderful golden fruits and beautiful flowers. They sat them down beside a fountain of crystal water and while they listened to the songs of glorious birds they talked together and the Poor Man asked about the strange things he had seen along the road.
"All those animals," the Beggar said, "were once human beings who instead of fearing God and being kind to their fellowmen passed all their time fighting and cheating and cursing. The two sows were two sisters-in-law who hated each other bitterly. The two bulls and the two rams were neighbors who fought for years and years over the boundary lines of their farms and now they keep on fighting through eternity. The two bitches were two sisters who fought until they died over the inheritance left them by their father. The old man whose hair the oxen eat was a farmer who always pastured his cattle on his neighbors' fields. Now he has his reward. The man at whose eyes the ravens peck was an ungrateful son who mistreated his parents. The man with the awful thirst that can never be quenched was a drunkard, and the one at whose lips the apples turn to ashes was a glutton."
So they talked on together, the Poor Man and the Beggar, until it was late afternoon and the Beggar said:
"And now, dear friend, you will sup with me as I once supped with you."
"Thank you," the Poor Man said, "I will. But let me first go out and see how my donkey is."
"Very well," the Beggar said, "go. But be sure to come back for I shall be waiting for you."
So the Poor Man went out the garden gate and looked for his donkey. But the donkey was gone.
"He must have started home," the Poor Man thought. "I'll hurry and overtake him."
So he started back afoot the way he had come. He went on and on but saw no donkey. He crossed the golden bridge and the silver bridge and the copper bridge and the iron bridge and the stone bridge and last of all the wooden bridge, but still there was no donkey.
"He must have got all the way home," he thought.
When the Poor Man reached his native village things looked different. Houses that he remembered had disappeared and others had taken their places. He couldn't find his own little house at all. He asked the people he met and they knew nothing about it. And they knew nothing about him, either, not even his name. And nobody even knew about his sons. At last he did meet one old man who remembered the family name and who told him that many years before the last of the sons had gone to another village to live.
"There's no place here for me," the Poor Man thought. "I better go back to my friend the Beggar and stay with him. No one else wants me."
So once again he followed the silver tracks all that long way over all those bridges and when at last he reached the garden gate he was very tired, for he was old and feeble now. It was all he could do to give one faint little knock. But the Beggar heard him and camerunning to let him in. And when he saw him, how tired he was and how feeble, he put his arm around him and helped him into the Garden and he said:
"You shall stay with me now forever and we shall be very happy together."
And the Poor Man when he looked in the Beggar's face to thank him saw that he was not a beggar at all but the Blessed Christ Himself. And then he knew that he was in the Garden of Paradise.