There was once a poor shepherd-boy whose father and mother were dead. He was placed by the authorities in the house of a rich man, who was to feed him and bring him up. However, the man and his wife had bad hearts. They were greedy and anxious about their riches, and vexed whenever the boy ate a morsel of their bread. The poor boy got little to eat, but received many blows.
One day, he had to watch a hen and her chickens. The hen ran through a hedge, and a hawk darted down and carried her off. The boy shouted, but it was no use. The farmer heard the noise, saw his hen was gone, and in a rage beat the boy so severely that he could not stir for two days.
Then the boy had to care for the chickens alone. Thinking it wise, he tied them all together with a string so the hawk could not steal any. But after two days, worn out with running and hunger, he fell asleep. The bird of prey came, seized one chicken, and since the others were tied to it, carried them all off and devoured them. The farmer, seeing this, beat the boy unmercifully, forcing him to lie in bed for several days.
When the boy recovered, the farmer said, "You are too stupid to be a herdsman. You must go as an errand-boy." He sent the boy to the judge with a basket of grapes and a letter. Tormented by hunger and thirst on the way, the boy ate two bunches. The judge counted the grapes and said, "Two clusters are missing." The boy honestly confessed. The judge wrote to the farmer, asking for more grapes.
The boy had to make the delivery again. Again, he was extremely hungry and thirsty, and again ate two bunches. This time, he first took the letter out of the basket, put it under a stone, and sat on it, thinking the letter could not see and betray him. The judge, however, again asked about the missing grapes. "Ah," said the boy, "how did you know? The letter couldn't have seen, for I put it under a stone!" The judge laughed at the boy's simplicity and sent a letter cautioning the farmer to treat the boy better, feed him well, and teach him right from wrong.
"I will soon show you the difference," said the hard man. "If you want to eat, you must work. And if you do anything wrong, you shall be sufficiently taught by blows."
The next day, he set the boy a hard task: to chop two bundles of straw into chaff within five hours, threatening a severe beating if he failed. The farmer then left for the fair with his family, leaving the boy only a small bit of bread. The boy worked with all his might. As he grew warm, he took off his little coat and threw it on the straw. In his haste and terror, without noticing, he chopped his coat along with the straw. Realizing the misfortune too late, he cried, "Now all is over with me! The wicked man will kill me. Rather than that, I will take my own life."
The boy remembered the farmer's wife saying, "I have a pot with poison under my bed." (She had said this to keep away greedy people, for it actually contained honey.) The boy crept under the bed, brought out the pot, and ate all the honey. "Folks say death is bitter, but it tastes sweet to me," he said. He sat down, prepared to die, but instead felt strengthened. "It cannot have been poison," he thought. He then recalled the farmer mentioning a small bottle of fly poison in his clothes box. (It was actually Hungarian wine.) The boy found the bottle and emptied it. "This death tastes sweet too," he said. Soon, the wine went to his head. Feeling his end was near, he said, "I will go to the churchyard and seek a grave."
He staggered to the churchyard and laid himself in a newly dug grave. He lost his senses more and more. Hearing music from a nearby wedding at an inn, he fancied he was in Paradise, until he lost all consciousness. The poor boy never awoke again; the heat of the strong wine and the cold night-dew deprived him of life, and he remained in the grave.
When the farmer heard of the boy's death, he was terrified of being brought to justice. His distress was so powerful that he fell fainting to the ground. His wife, who was standing at the hearth with a pan of hot fat, ran to help him. But flames darted against the pan, the whole house caught fire, and in a few hours it lay in ashes. They spent the rest of their years in poverty and misery, tormented by the pangs of conscience.