There was once a rich man who had a servant. The servant worked diligently and honestly: he was the first up in the morning and the last to bed at night. He willingly took on the hardest tasks, never complained, and was always content and merry.
After a year, the master gave him no wages, thinking, "This is clever; I save money, and he won't leave." The servant said nothing and worked a second year, again receiving no pay. He remained happy and stayed on.
When the third year ended, the master reached into his pocket but gave nothing. The servant finally said, "Master, I have served you honestly for three years. Please give me my due, as I wish to leave and see more of the world."
"Yes, my good fellow," answered the old miser. "You have served me industriously and shall be cheerfully rewarded." He put his hand in his pocket and counted out only three farthings. "Here is a farthing for each year—a large and liberal pay from a master."
The honest servant, who knew little of money, pocketed his fortune. "Ah! Now my purse is full. Why should I trouble myself with hard work?" he thought. He went on his way, singing and jumping happily.
As he passed a thicket, a little man stepped out. "Where are you going, merry brother? You seem carefree," said the dwarf.
"Why be sad?" replied the servant. "I have enough; three years' wages are jingling in my pocket."
"How much is your treasure?" asked the dwarf.
"Three farthings sterling," said the servant.
"Look here," said the dwarf. "I am poor and needy. Give me your three farthings. I can no longer work, but you are young and can earn your bread."
The servant, having a good heart, pitied the old man and gave him the three farthings. "Take them in Heaven's name. It will do me no harm."
Then the little man said, "Since you have a good heart, I grant you three wishes—one for each farthing. They shall all be fulfilled."
"Aha! You are one who works wonders!" said the servant. "Well then, I wish first for a gun that hits everything I aim at; secondly, for a fiddle that compels all who hear it to dance; and thirdly, that if I ask a favor of anyone, they cannot refuse."
"All that you shall have," said the dwarf. He reached into the bush and pulled out a fiddle and a gun, ready as if ordered. He gave them to the servant and said, "Whatever you ask, no man in the world shall deny you."
"Heart alive! What more could one desire?" said the servant to himself, and went merrily on.
Soon he met a Jew with a long goat's beard, standing and listening to a bird singing at the top of a tree. "Good heavens!" exclaimed the Jew. "Such a small creature with such a loud voice! If only it were mine! If only someone would sprinkle salt on its tail!"
"If that's all," said the servant, "the bird shall soon be down here." He took aim, pulled the trigger, and down fell the bird into the thorn-bushes. "Go, you rogue, and fetch the bird yourself!"
"Oh!" said the Jew. "Leave out 'rogue,' my master. I will fetch it at once, since you hit it." He lay down and began to crawl into the thicket.
When the Jew was stuck among the thorns, the servant was tempted by humor. He took up his fiddle and began to play. Immediately, the Jew's legs began to move and jump into the air. The more the servant fiddled, the better the dance. But the thorns tore his shabby coat, combed his beard, and pricked him all over.
"Oh dear!" cried the Jew. "What do I want with your fiddling? Leave the fiddle alone, master; I do not want to dance."
The servant did not listen. He thought, "You have fleeced people often enough; now the thorn-bushes shall do the same to you." He began to play again, making the Jew jump higher than ever, leaving scraps of his coat on the thorns.
"Oh, woe's me!" cried the Jew. "I will give the gentleman whatsoever he asks if only he leaves off fiddling—a purse full of gold!"
"If you are so liberal," said the servant, "I will stop my music. But I must say, you dance to it so well it's quite an art." He took the purse and went on his way.
The Jew stood still, watching until the servant was out of sight. Then he screamed with all his might, "You miserable musician, you beer-house fiddler! Wait till I catch you alone! I will hunt you till the soles of your shoes fall off! You ragamuffin!" After abusing him, he caught his breath and ran to town to see the justice.
"My lord judge," he said, "I come to make a complaint. See how a rascal has robbed and ill-treated me on the highway! A stone might pity me. My clothes are torn, my body pricked and scratched, and my little all is gone with my purse—good ducats, each better than the last. For God's sake, throw the man into prison!"
"Was it a soldier who cut you with his sabre?" asked the judge.
"Nothing of the sort!" said the Jew. "He had no sword, but a gun on his back and a fiddle at his neck. The wretch is easily known."
The judge sent his men after the servant. They found him walking slowly, with the purse of money. Brought before the judge, the servant said, "I did not touch the Jew nor take his money. He gave it to me of his own free will so I would stop fiddling, because he could not bear my music."
"Heaven defend us!" cried the Jew. "His lies are as thick as flies on the wall!"
The judge did not believe the servant's tale. "This is a bad defense; no Jew would do that," he said. Because the servant was accused of robbery on the highway, the judge sentenced him to be hanged.
As he was led away, the Jew screamed after him, "You vagabond! You dog of a fiddler! Now you will receive your well-earned reward!"
The servant walked quietly with the hangman up the ladder. On the last step, he turned and said to the judge, "Grant me just one request before I die."
"Yes, if you do not ask for your life," said the judge.
"I do not ask for life," answered the servant. "But as a last favor, let me play once more upon my fiddle."
The Jew cried out, "Murder! Murder! For goodness' sake, do not allow it!"
But the judge said, "Why should I not let him have this short pleasure? It has been granted to him, and he shall have it." He could not have refused because of the gift bestowed on the servant.
Then the Jew cried, "Oh! Woe's me! Tie me, tie me fast!"
The good servant took his fiddle from his neck and made ready. At the first scrape, they all began to quiver and shake—the judge, his clerk, the hangman, and his men. The cord fell from the hand of the one who was to tie the Jew.
At the second scrape, all raised their legs. The hangman let go of the servant and made ready to dance.
At the third scrape, they all leaped up and began to dance. The judge and the Jew jumped the best. Soon, all who had gathered in the marketplace out of curiosity joined them—old and young, fat and lean. Even the dogs got up on their hind legs and capered about. The longer he played, the higher the dancers sprang, knocking their heads and shrieking terribly.
At length, the judge cried, quite out of breath, "I will give you your life if you will only stop fiddling!"
The good servant had compassion. He took his fiddle, hung it round his neck again, and stepped down the ladder. He went to the Jew, who was lying on the ground panting for breath, and said, "You rascal, now confess where you got the money, or I will take my fiddle and begin to play again."
"I stole it, I stole it!" cried the Jew. "But you have honestly earned it."
So the judge had the Jew taken to the gallows and hanged as a thief.