Translation:Collection of Slavic Folk Tales/XIV

XIV

POVERTY

(POLISH TALE)

A very poor farmer had a very pretty daughter; the village landlord, a rich bachelor, fell in love with her and wanted to marry her at all costs. But the girl couldn't stand him; and her parents wouldn't consent to the marriage in any way. The master, to take revenge, tormented them in every way, demanded all sorts of chores from them, and had them beaten at the slightest occasion. The farmer finally lost patience and resolved to leave the village with his entire family. In the cottage they had lived in until then, they constantly heard something squeaking behind the stove; they had often searched to see what it could be; they had turned the hearth upside down but found nothing. On the day of their departure, as they were removing their poor furniture, they heard a louder noise behind the stove. As they listened, crack! crack! out came a thin, pale figure from the hearth, in sum a rather pretty girl.

"What devil could this be?" cried the father.

"Good heavens!" cried the mother and all the children.

"I'm not a devil," cried the frail creature, "I'm your poverty: I've learned you're moving, you must take me with you."

The farmer wasn't foolish; he thought for a moment; instead of trying to strangle his poverty—she was so thin and nimble he surely wouldn't have succeeded—he bowed deeply before her.

"Madam," he said, "since you enjoy our company so much, come with us; but, as you see, we're handling our own move, be kind enough to help us a bit."

The lady agreed and wanted to take some light utensils; but the farmer gave those to the children and told her he had forgotten a log in the yard that needed to be carried; he ran to the yard, split the log with an axe, and politely asked poverty to help lift this heavy object. She didn't know how to manage; the farmer showed her the split, and she put her long, thin fingers in it. The other, pretending to help, quickly pulled out his axe; the long, thin fingers were trapped in the wood. She cried, moaned, and struggled in vain; nothing worked.

The farmer quickly gathered all his belongings, left, and was careful never to return to that place. From then on, he was very happy and soon became the richest peasant in the village where he settled; his daughter married the son of an honest neighbor, a handsome and brave boy; they all lived in joy.

The lord of the old village, the oppressor of the poor, had a very different fate. Wanting to distribute the empty houses to new residents, he came to visit the one our farmer had lived in. Whom did he find? A pale girl struggling in vain, her fingers caught in a log. He took pity on her, drove a wedge into the wood, and freed her. From that day, pale poverty never left her liberator; despite his age, he fell in love with her. For her, he squandered all his fortune so thoroughly that he became poor in turn.