There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from morning till night. When he had saved some money, he said to his son, "You are my only child. I will spend my hard-earned money on your education. If you learn an honest trade, you can support me in my old age when I can no longer work."
The boy went to school and learned diligently, earning praise from his teachers. He studied for a long time, but after completing two grades, his father's small savings were exhausted, and the boy had to return home. "Alas," said the father sorrowfully, "I can give you no more. In these hard times, I can barely earn enough for our daily bread." "Dear father," replied the son, "do not trouble yourself. If it is God's will, it will turn to my advantage. I shall soon grow accustomed to it."
When the father planned to go into the forest to chop and stack wood for money, the son said, "I will go with you and help." "No, my son," said the father, "the work is too rough for you. You are not used to it and will not bear it. Besides, I have only one axe and no money to buy another." "Just borrow one from the neighbor," answered the son. "He will lend you his axe until I can earn one for myself."
The father borrowed an axe, and at dawn the next day, they went into the forest together. The son helped cheerfully and energetically. At noon, the father said, "Let us rest and have our dinner, then we can work again." The son took his bread and said, "You rest, father. I am not tired. I will walk in the forest a little and look for birds' nests." "Oh, you fool," said the father, "why run about? You'll tire yourself and be unable to work. Stay here and sit beside me."
Nevertheless, the son went into the forest, ate his bread, and happily peered into the green branches, searching for a nest. He wandered until he came upon a great, ancient oak tree, so massive that five men could not span it. He stopped and thought, "Many a bird must have nested here."
Suddenly, he seemed to hear a voice. Listening closely, he heard a muffled cry: "Let me out! Let me out!" He looked around but saw nothing. The voice seemed to come from the ground. "Where are you?" he called. The voice answered, "I am down here among the roots of the oak tree. Let me out! Let me out!"
The scholar began to dig under the tree and search among the roots until he found a glass bottle in a small hollow. He lifted it to the light and saw a frog-like creature jumping inside. "Let me out! Let me out!" it cried again. Suspecting no evil, the scholar drew the cork from the bottle.
Immediately, a spirit ascended from it and began to grow rapidly. In moments, he stood before the scholar—a terrible fellow, half as tall as the tree. "Do you know," he cried in an awful voice, "what your reward is for releasing me?" "No," replied the scholar fearlessly, "how should I know?" "Then I will tell you," cried the spirit. "I must strangle you for it."
"You should have told me that sooner," said the scholar. "I would have left you shut up. But my head shall stand firm despite you. More than one person must be consulted about this." "More persons here, more persons there," said the spirit. "You shall have the reward you've earned. Do you think I was shut up as a favor? No, it was my punishment. I am the mighty Mercurius. Whoever releases me, him I must strangle."
"Softly," answered the scholar. "Not so fast. I must first know that you were truly in that little bottle and that you are the right spirit. If you can get back in, I will believe you, and then you may do as you wish with me."
The spirit said haughtily, "That is a trifling feat." He drew himself together, made himself as small as before, and crept back through the bottle's neck. No sooner was he inside than the scholar thrust the cork back in and threw the bottle among the oak roots, trapping the spirit once more.
As the scholar turned to leave, the spirit cried piteously, "Ah, do let me out! Ah, do let me out!" "No," answered the scholar. "Not a second time! He who has once tried to take my life shall not be set free by me now that I have caught him again."
"If you set me free," said the spirit, "I will give you so much that you will have plenty all your life." "No," answered the boy. "You would cheat me as you did the first time." "You are throwing away your own good luck," said the spirit. "I will do you no harm but will reward you richly."
The scholar thought, "I will venture it. Perhaps he will keep his word, and anyway, he shall not get the better of me." He took out the cork, and the spirit rose as before, stretching into a giant. "Now you shall have your reward," he said, handing the scholar a small bag like a plaster. "If you spread one end of this on a wound, it will heal. If you rub steel or iron with the other end, it will turn to silver."
"I must try that," said the scholar. He went to a tree, tore off some bark with his axe, and rubbed it with one end of the plaster. The wound closed immediately. "Now it is all right," he said to the spirit. "We can part." The spirit thanked him for his release, and the boy thanked the spirit for his gift before returning to his father.
"Where have you been racing about?" said the father. "Why have you forgotten your work? I said you would never get on with anything." "Be easy, father. I will make it up." "Make it up indeed!" said the father angrily. "There's no art in that."
"Take care, father. I will soon hew that tree so it splits." He took his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and struck a mighty blow. But as the iron had turned to silver, the edge bent. "Look, father, what a bad axe you've given me! It has become quite crooked."
The father was shocked. "Ah, what have you done? Now I must pay for it, and I have no means. That is all the good I've gotten from your work." "Don't get angry," said the son. "I will pay for the axe." "Oh, you blockhead!" cried the father. "With what will you pay? You have nothing but what I give you. These are student tricks in your head, but you have no idea of woodcutting."
After a while, the scholar said, "Father, I can work no more. We had better take a holiday." "What!" answered he. "Do you think I will sit with my hands in my lap like you? I must work on, but you may go home." "Father, I am in this wood for the first time. I don't know my way alone. Please go with me."
His anger now abated, the father let himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the son, "Go and sell your damaged axe. See what you can get for it, and I must earn the difference to pay the neighbor."
The son took the axe to a goldsmith in town. The goldsmith tested it, weighed it, and said, "It is worth four hundred thalers. I do not have that much with me." The son said, "Give me what you have. I will lend you the rest." The goldsmith gave him three hundred thalers and owed him a hundred.
The son went home and said, "Father, I have the money. Go and ask the neighbor what he wants for the axe." "I already know," answered the old man. "One thaler, six groschen." "Then give him two thalers, twelve groschen—that is double and enough. See, I have plenty of money." He gave his father a hundred thalers and said, "You shall never know want. Live as comfortably as you like."
"Good heavens!" said the father. "How have you come by these riches?" The scholar then told him everything that had happened and how, trusting his luck, he had made such a good hit. With the remaining money, he returned to school and continued his studies. As he could heal all wounds with his plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world.