Part 3

The weather having turned wet, Owlglass thought it well to have his boots greased, that his feet might be kept dry during his frequent wanderings; so, going to a bootmaker of the name of Christopher, in the marketplace of Brunswick, he gave him the boots, and said, "Let these be well larded, and have them ready by to-morrow morning." When he had left the shop, the bootmaker's foreman said, "Master, that is Owlglass, who plays every one some ugly trick or another, so be very careful what you do, or your turn will have come." The Master asked, "What did he tell us to do?" "He told you to lard his boots, meaning to grease them," the Foreman answered; "and if I were you I would act up to the letter of what he said; I should not grease them, but lard them as one lards meat." "Well, we will do as he bids us," the Master said; and cutting up a piece of bacon into small strips, he larded the boots as if they were a joint of meat. Owlglass called the following morning to ask whether the boots were ready; and the bootmaker, pointing to them as they hung against the wall, answered, "Yes, there they are." Owlglass, seeing his boots thus larded, burst out laughing, and said, "Now you are the sort of tradesman I like, for you have conscientiously done as I ordered; how much do I owe you?" "A shilling," was the answer. As he paid the money, Owlglass said, "You are much too moderate in your charges, but I shall not consider that with one miserable shilling I have paid you. Rest assured, my good Friend, that I will not forget you." Then taking his boots he departed, the Master and his Foreman, looking after him, said, "He is the last man to whom such a thing should have happened." And as they talked it over they chuckled that the trickster, in his turn, had been tricked. Their merriment, however, was of but short duration, for suddenly Owlglass's head and shoulders appeared through the shop window, the glass flying in all directions about the place. "Pray, my Friend," he said, "have the goodness to tell me whether my boots are larded with sow's or boar's bacon." When the bootmaker had recovered a little from his surprise, he exclaimed, "Get out of that, you scoundrel, or you will have my last at your head." "Do not be angry, my good Sir," Owlglass said, "for I only wish to know what bacon that is with which you have larded my boots; whether it is from a boar or a sow?"

The bootmaker's rage increased, and he abused him in the vilest terms for breaking his window; but Owlglass said coolly, "If you will not tell me what bacon it is, I must go and ask some one else;" and drawing back his head and shoulders, contriving at the same time to break the windows still further, he disappeared. Then the bootmaker was in a rage with his man, and said, "You gave me advice before; now advise me what I am to do to make my window whole again. Pack yourself off at once, and the wages due to you I shall apply to repairing the mischief your wisdom has caused."

XIV.

_How Owlglass hires himself to a Tailor; and how well he executes his Master's Orders._

When Owlglass found his pockets empty, he hired himself to a Tailor, who said to him, "Sew neatly, so that no one can see it, as a good workman should do." So Owlglass took a needle and some pieces of cloth, and having crept under the cutting board, with his face turned to the wall, he laid the work across his knees and began to sew in the dark. When the Master beheld this proceeding, he said, "What are you doing there, my man? That is a most extraordinary way of working." Owlglass answered, "Master, you told me to work so that no one could see it, and as you yourself cannot see what I am doing, so can no one else see my work, and therefore I am strictly executing your orders." The Tailor, who was a quiet, easy man, then said, "That was not what I meant; come out there, and sew in such a manner that every one may see how fine your work is." Thus they went on for a matter of three days, when, one evening, the Tailor, feeling sleepy, threw a half-finished rough peasant's coat over to Owlglass, and said, "There, make up that wolf for me, and then you can go to bed, as I am now going to do." You must know, that that particular sort of coat was called a wolf. As soon as the Tailor had left the workshop, Owlglass cut up the coat, and with the pieces first made the head, and then the body and legs of a wolf. He stood it up by means of sticks, and then went to bed. When, on the following morning, the Master went into the shop, he started back in a fright, but Owlglass just then coming in, he saw how it was, and said, "What have you been doing here?" Owlglass answered, "I have made a wolf, as you bid me." And the Tailor saying that he did not mean a wolf of that sort, but the peasant's rough coat, he continued, "My dear Master, I wish I had understood your meaning, for I would rather have made a coat than a wolf." With this the Master was satisfied, and they went on comfortably together for three or four days more, when one evening he again felt sleepy; but thinking it too early for his man to go to bed, he gave him a coat which was finished all but putting in the sleeves, and said, "Whip the sleeves to this coat, and then you can go to rest." Owlglass hung the coat up on a hook, and having laid the sleeves near it, he lighted two candles, and, with a whip he then made, whipped the sleeves all through the night. When the Tailor came in, in the morning, he exclaimed, "What tomfoolery is this?" "It is no tomfoolery," Owlglass answered, "I have done as you told me; but though I have stood here all night whipping the sleeves, I could not get them to stick to the coat. It would have been better you had let me go to bed than make me waste my time in this way." "It is not my fault," the Tailor said, "how could I know you understood it this way, when I meant you to sew the sleeves into the coat?" Owlglass answered, "I wish you would not say one thing when you mean another; but now you may do the work, for I must go to bed." This the Tailor would no way agree to, so they quarrelled; and Owlglass leaving him, went his way.

XV.

_How Owlglass caused Three Tailors to fall from their Work-board, and persuaded the People that the Wind had blown them down._

Owlglass took a lodging at Bamberg, near to the market-place, where he remained about a fortnight, and next door to him there lived a tailor who had three workmen. These men sat on a board, supported by four posts, outside the window, and they laughed at Owlglass, and threw pieces of rag or cloth at him whenever he passed. Owlglass bore all in silence, biding his time to pay them back with interest; and this he determined should be on a fair day, when the market-place would be full of people. The night before the day of the fair he had sawed the posts nearly through which supported the board on which the three tailors sat, and in the morning they placed the board on them as usual, seated themselves on it and began their sewing. Now, when the swineherd blew his horn all the people let out their pigs, and the tailor's pigs also came out of his house, and went, as Owlglass well knew they would, under the board, rubbing themselves against the posts, which, giving way, the three journeymen tailors were thrown into the gutter. Owlglass, who had been on the watch, now cried out, "See how light three tailors are, for a gust of wind has blown them all at once into the street, as if they were but three feathers! How easily a tailor can fly!" And this he cried so loud that he could be heard all over the marketplace. All the people came running to the spot to see the fun, and mocked and laughed at the poor tailors, who knew not what to do for very shame. They could not tell how it was their board fell; but they found out at last, and guessed that it was Owlglass who had played them that trick. They put up fresh posts, but did not again venture to make game of Owlglass.

XVI.

_How Owlglass tells a Truth to a Smith, to his Wife, his Assistant, and his Maidservant, for which he gets his Horse shod._

Owlglass now being in funds, he rode about the country like a gentleman, and one day came to a small town, where he saw a very neat woman, with her servant maid, standing at the door of a smithy, and judged her to be the smith's wife. He put up at an inn just opposite, and during the night pulled the four shoes off his horse. On the following morning he led his horse to the smithy; and as soon as it was known that it was Owlglass, the wife and maidservant came out to see what had brought him there. Owlglass asked the Smith whether he would shoe his horse; to which he at once agreed, for he was glad of an opportunity to have some talk with a man of whom he had heard so much. After much talk on both sides, the Smith said, "If you will tell me a truth that is really true, I will put one shoe on your horse without any charge." To this Owlglass answered, "If you have iron and coals, and there is plenty of wind in the bellows, the fault will be yours if the forge does not go on well." "That is undoubtedly true," said the Smith; and he gave him the promised horseshoe. The assistant, as he was putting on the shoe, said that if he would tell him a truth that applied to him, he would put another shoe on his horse. In answer, Owlglass said, "A smith's assistant must work hard and not spare himself if he expects to please his master." "That is true enough," was the answer, and the horse had a second shoe. Then the wife and the servant wanted a truth told them, for which each promised his horse a shoe. Owlglass whispered his answer in the ear of each of these. To the mistress he said, "When a servant apes her mistress's dress, she would be mistress not only in dress alone." The Mistress marked his glances as well as his words, and said, "That is true enough;" so there was a third shoe for the horse. And to the maid he said, "When a servant is better looking than her mistress, she will find it difficult to please her in anything." The Maid said, "That I know to be true." So the horse got its fourth shoe, and Owlglass rode further on his way.

[Decoration]

XVII.

_How Owlglass hired himself to a Merchant as Cook and Coachman._

In the town of Windsheim there lived a rich merchant, who was walking one day outside the town, when he saw Owlglass lying on the grass, and stopping, he asked him what his calling was. Owlglass answered that he was a cook; whereupon the Merchant said, "You are just the man I want, that is, if you understand your business; for my wife is not at all satisfied with her present cook, and we have some of the first people of the town to dine with us to-morrow, to whom we would like to give a good dinner." Owlglass said that he would serve him faithfully, and that he felt confident of giving satisfaction; so the merchant engaged him, stipulating that he should also serve as coachman, and took him home with him at once. As soon as the merchant's wife saw Owlglass, she said, "Who is this fellow whom you have brought home with you, for I do not like the look of him at all?" Her husband answered, "Never mind his look, my Dear, for he is a first-rate cook, and we will serve up a dinner to-morrow that shall be the envy of the whole town." Early the next morning the Merchant gave Owlglass full instructions as to the dinner, telling him what soup, meat, and vegetables to get, and how he liked everything done. "As for game," he added, "Professor Guzzle is particularly fond of roast hare, so we cannot do better than let him have his favourite puss; but, mind, let it be the finest that can be got in the whole town." Owlglass promised that all his instructions should be strictly attended to; and the Merchant, having business of importance to attend to, went out in easy confidence in his new servant. The Merchant got home only just in time to receive his guests, so that he could not visit the kitchen before dinner, and his wife was too fine a lady to attend to such matters. However, the dinner went off very well, and the hare, in particular, was declared to be the finest that had been seen that year; so that all the company were in high spirits. At dessert the conversation turned upon cats; and one of the ladies, addressing the mistress of the house, said she had heard that she had the finest one in the whole town. The Merchant's wife was very proud of her cat, and gave orders that it should be brought into the room; but it could not be found anywhere; and now the servants remembered that they had not seen it since the morning, when one of them saw Owlglass carry it from the kitchen to an outhouse. Owlglass was now sent for into the dining-room, before all the guests, and questioned as to what had become of the cat. Without being in the slightest degree disconcerted, he said his master had told him that Professor Guzzle was very fond of roast hare, and that they could not do better than let him have his favourite puss, and therefore he, Owlglass, was to be sure and get the very finest in the town; that he had searched the whole town through, but there were none to compare to the one in the house, and he was sure his master would not begrudge it his guests; therefore he had killed and roasted it, and the company had just eaten it. Horror was depicted upon most of the countenances, whilst one or two of the guests tried to joke about it; but these the very first showed symptoms of distress, and one after another of the company had to leave the room pale as death, and not one returned. The mistress insisted upon Owlglass being at once sent away; but the Merchant said, "I want him to drive me and the priest to Goslar to-morrow, and when we get back I will immediately send him about his business." That evening he told Owlglass to get the carriage ready for the morrow, and to grease it well. As soon as all had gone to bed, Owlglass took some cart grease and greased the carriage outside and in, but particularly the seats. Early the next morning the Merchant ordered the horses to be put to the carriage, and he and the priest getting in, they drove off in high spirits. They had not gone far, however, when they found they were gradually slipping off the seats; and the Priest exclaimed, "What is all this grease? I held on with my hands to check the jolting, and I am all grease." They ordered Owlglass to stop, and they found they were covered with grease; so that they had to buy a bundle of straw from a farmer and rub themselves and the carriage well. The Merchant had now lost all patience, and he cried out to Owlglass, "I find out now that you are a professed wag, and of the most mischievous class; but you are in the right road, go on, my good Friend, straight to the gallows, and there your journey will be at an end." Owlglass did as he was bid, for, turning off the road, he drove straight to a gallows which stood at no great distance, and stopping there began to take the horses out of the carriage. "What are you doing now, you rascal?" the Merchant exclaimed. Owlglass answered, "You told me to go straight to the gallows, and that there my journey would be at an end, so I naturally thought that we were to stop here." The Merchant looked out of the carriage, and seeing that they were indeed under the gallows, could not help laughing. He said, "You have delayed us so long on the road with your foolery that I am afraid we shall not reach Goslar in time for our business, so now, my good Fellow, I pray you get on as fast as you can. Do not look behind you, but mind only the road before you." Owlglass now again mounted his horse, having first loosened the pin connecting the front wheels, and set off as fast as the horses could gallop. He had not gone far when the pin fell out; but, without looking behind him, he galloped on, carrying off the pole and front wheels, and leaving the body of the carriage far behind. In vain the Priest and Merchant shouted to him to stop. On he went; so they had to jump out of the carriage, and by scrambling through hedges and running across fields they were, fortunately, able to overtake him. Complaint was useless; and as they found they could not now reach Goslar in time, even if their coachman could be trusted to take them there, they determined upon returning home. The homeward journey was accomplished without any further accident; and when the Merchant found himself safe in his own house, he called Owlglass to him and said, "It is but too evident that all the mischief you have done since you have been with me has been done purposely. What have you to say to this?" Owlglass answered, "I do everything strictly to the letter, as I am told, and if I do wrong, the fault is therefore not mine, but the fault of those who give the orders. You do not seem satisfied, so, if you pay me my wages, I would rather look for justice elsewhere." The Merchant thinking it better to avoid further, and perhaps worse, mischief by getting rid of him at once, paid him, and they parted.

[Decoration]

XVIII.

_How Owlglass cheated a Horse-dealer at Wismar, and afterwards cheated the Public._

Owlglass next went to Wismar, a town much frequented by horse-dealers, and one of these had a habit of pulling the tail of any horse he thought of buying. This he did from a notion that, if the hair were firm in the tail, the horse was strong, and would live long; but if, on the contrary, the hair came out freely, that the animal would not last long, and he would therefore have nothing to do with it. Owlglass knew of this habit, and determined to make some profit of it, so he bought a horse without a tail, which he got very cheap on that account, and most artfully he fastened a beautifully flowing tail to the bare stump, by means of blood and gum. With this horse he went to Wismar, and asked so high a price that no one would bid for it, until the dealer came whose habit it was to pull the horses' tails, and him he asked a very low price. Before striking a bargain, the Horse-dealer, as usual, caught hold of the tail, and having formed a favourable opinion of the animal, gave it, perhaps, a harder tug than customary, when, lo and behold, the tail remained in his hands, and he measured his length upon the ground. A shout of laughter arose on all sides; but that was not enough for Owlglass, who cried out, at the highest pitch of his voice, "See here! the villain has ruined my horse, for, beautiful creature that it is, who would have it without a tail?" The people drew nearer and took part with Owlglass, so that the Horse-dealer had to pay him ten pounds for the damage done to his horse, and Owlglass laughed more heartily than any one, though only to himself.

He rode out of Wismar in high spirits, his trick having succeeded so well; and as soon as he was outside the town he fastened the tail on again, intending to sell the horse in the next town. As he rode along, however, he thought of some other way how to make money by his horse, before finally parting with it. In pursuance of the plan he had formed, he stopped at an inn two or three miles distant from the town, where he intended to put his plan into execution. Here he remained till it had grown dark, so that he might enter the town unseen; which having done, he hired a stable, and having put up his horse, and attended to it himself, he locked the stable-door, putting the key in his pocket.

The next morning he had it cried through the town that there was a horse to be shown with its tail where its head should be, stating a certain hour at which only it could be seen. Before the appointed time he made all necessary preparations in the stable, when he again locked the door and then stood before it, waiting the arrival of the curious. Now, as curiosity was pretty general in the town, there was a numerous attendance; and when Owlglass judged that all the company to be expected had arrived, he collected the admission price from each, and then threw the door open.

There was a general rush, followed by laughter from some, and indignant complaints from others, as they saw the horse, no different in itself to other horses, but fastened with its tail to the manger instead of its head.

XIX.

_How Owlglass sowed Rogues._

We next meet with Owlglass in a town where he remained so long that he knew all the secrets of the place. By turns he took up his abode in twelve different inns, so that what had escaped him in one he was sure to hear in another, and it was little good he heard in either. For a long while he puzzled his brain what he could best do to suit the good people among whom he had the honour of living, when, at length, he hit upon a novel fancy, and, going into the market-place, he began sowing, up and down, sideways and crossways, the seed being represented by small pebbles. The people came in crowds, and to their questions what he was sowing, answered that he was sowing rogues. The people cried out, "Those are not wanted here, for we have more than enough of them; and, pray, why do you not sow honest men as well?" He answered, "Those will not grow here." These words were reported to the Town Council, who had him called before them, and ordered him to pick up his seed again, and then leave the town. His seed he could not well pick up; but he left the town, and after travelling about ten miles, came to another. Here, however, the report of his wonderful seed had reached before him, so that he was not allowed to stop there, but had to pass through as quickly as possible. There was no help for it, so, escorted by the town authorities, he went down to the side of a river, which flowed through the town, and there hired a boat to carry him and his seed. He jumped into the boat, but when the boatman raised his bag to lift that in, it burst and all the seed fell out. Owlglass pushed off the boat, crying out to the astonished spectators that he left them his seed, for he was sure that in such a highly virtuous town a few rogues were required to keep up a proper balance; and when he reached the opposite side, leaving the boat to the mercy of the stream, he ran on his way. Whether the seed took root or not is not said; but to judge by the quantity of rogues in the world, it would seem it did, and that Owlglass sowed some of the same sort in other parts of the world.

XX.

_How Owlglass hired himself to a Barber, and entered his House through the Window._