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土耳其

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Once upon a time in the old old days when the camel was only a spy, when
toads rose in the air on wings, and I myself rode in the air while I
walked on the ground, and went up hill and down dale at the same time,
in those days, I say, there were two brothers who dwelt together.

All that they had inherited from their father were some oxen and other
beasts, and a sick mother. One day the spirit of division seized upon
the younger brother (he was half-witted besides, Allah help him!), and
he went to his brother and said: “Look now, brother! at these two
stables! One of them is as new as new can be, while the other is old and
rotten. Let us drive our cattle hither, and whatever goes into the new
stable shall be mine, and all the rest shall be thine.”

“Not so, Mehmed,” said the elder brother; “let whatever goes into the
old stable be thine!” To this also the half-crazy Mehmed agreed. That
same day they went and drove up their cattle, and all the cattle went
into the new stable except a helpless old ox that was so blind that it
mistook its way and went into the old stable instead. Mehmed said never
a word, but took the blind old ox into the fields to graze; every
morning early he drove it thither, and late every evening he drove it
back again. One day when he was on the road, the wind began to shake a
big wayside tree so violently that its vast branches whined and
whimpered again. “Hi! whimpering old dad!” said the fool to the tree,
“hast thou seen my elder brother?” But the tree, as if it didn’t hear,
only went on whining. The fool flew into such a rage at this that he
caught up his chopper and struck at the tree, when out of it gushed a
whole stream of golden sequins. At this the fool rallied what little
wits he had, hastened home, and asked his brother to lend him another
ox, as he wanted to plough with a pair. He found a cart also, and some
empty sacks. These he filled with earth, and set out forthwith for his
tree. There he emptied his sacks of their earth, filled them with
sequins instead, and when he returned home in the evening, his brother
well-nigh dropped down for amazement at the sight of the monstrous
treasure.

They could think of nothing now but dividing it, so the younger brother
went to their neighbour for a three-peck measure to measure it with.
Now the neighbour was curious to know what such clodpoles could have to
measure. So he took and smeared the bottom of the measure with tar, and,
sure enough, when the fool brought the measure back a short time
afterwards, a sequin was sticking to the bottom of it. The neighbour
immediately went and told it to another, who went and told it to a
third, and so it was not long before everybody knew all about it.

Now the wiser brother knew not what might happen to them now that they
had all this money, and he began to feel frightened. So he snatched up
his pick and shovel, dug a trench, buried the treasure, and made off as
fast as his heels could carry him. On the way it occurred to the wise
brother that he had done foolishly in not shutting the door of the hut
behind him, so he sent off his younger brother to do it for him. So the
fool went back to the house, and he thought to himself: “Well, since I
am here, I ought not to forget my old mother either.” So he filled a
huge cauldron with water, boiled it, and soused his old mother in it so
thoroughly that her poor old head was never likely to speak again. After
that he propped the old woman against the wall with the broom, tore the
door off its hinges, threw it over his shoulders, and went and rejoined
his brother in the wood.

The elder brother looked at the door, and listened to the sad case of
his poor old mother, but scold and chide his younger brother as he might
the latter grew more cock-a-hoop than ever--he fancied he had done such
a clever thing. He had brought the door away with him, he said, in order
that no one might get into the house. The wise brother would have given
anything to have got rid of the fool, and began turning over in his mind
how he might best manage it. He looked before him and behind him, he
looked down the high-road, and there were three horsemen galloping
along. The thought instantly occurred to the pair of them that these
horsemen were on their track, so they scrambled up a tree forthwith,
door and all. They were scarcely comfortably settled when the three
horsemen drove up beneath the tree and encamped there. The dusk of
evening had come on at the very nick of time, so that they could not see
the two brothers.

Now the two brothers would have done very well indeed up in the tree had
not one of them been a fool. Mehmed the fool began to practise
pleasantries which disturbed the repose of the horsemen beneath the
tree. Presently, however, came a crash--bang!--and down on the heads of
the three sleepers fell the great heavy door from the top of the tree.
“The end of the world has come, the end of the world has come!” cried
they, and they rushed off in such a fright that no doubt they haven’t
ceased running to this very day. This finished the business so far as
the elder brother was concerned. In the morning he arose and went on his
way, and left the foolish younger brother by himself.

Thus poor silly Mehmed had to go forth into the wide world alone. He
went on and on till he came to a village, by which time he was very
hungry. There he stood in the gate of a mosque, and got one or two
paras[6] from those who went in and out till he had enough to buy
himself something to eat. At that moment a fat little man came out of
the mosque, and casting his eyes on Mehmed, asked him if he would like
to enter his service.

“I don’t mind if I do,” replied Mehmed, “but only on condition that
neither of us is to get angry with the other for any cause whatever. If
thou art wroth with me I’ll kill thee, and if I get wroth with thee thou
mayest kill me also.” The fat man agreed to these terms, for there was a
great lack of servants in that village.

In order to make short work of the fat little man the fool began by at
once chasing all the hens and sheep off his master’s premises. “Art
angry, master?” he then inquired of his lord. His master was amazed, but
he only answered: “Angry? Not I! Why should I be?” At the same time he
entrusted nothing more to him, but let him sit in the house without
anything to do.

His master had a wife and child, and Mehmed had to look after them. He
liked to dandle the child up and down, but he knocked it about and hurt
it, so clumsy was he; so he soon had to leave that off. But the wife
began to be afraid that her turn would come next, sooner or later, so
she persuaded her husband to run away from the fool one night. Mehmed
overheard what they said, hid himself in their storebox, and when they
opened it in the next village out he popped.

After a while his master and his wife agreed together that they would go
and sleep at night on the shores of a lake. They took Mehmed with them,
and put his bed right on the water’s edge, that he might tumble in when
he went to sleep. However, the fool was not such a fool but that he made
his master’s wife jump into the lake instead of himself. “Art angry,
master?” cried he.--“Angry indeed! How can I help being angry when I see
my property wasted, and my wife and child killed, and myself a
beggar--and all through thee!” Then the fool seized his master, put him
in mind of their compact, and pitched him into the water.

Mehmed now found himself all alone, so he went forth into the wide world
once more. He went on and on, did nothing but drink sweet coffee, smoke
chibooks, look about over his shoulder, and walk leisurely along at his
ease. As he was thus knocking about, he chanced to light upon a
five-para piece, which he speedily changed for some lebleb,[7] which he
immediately fell to chewing, and, as he chewed, part of it fell into a
wayside spring, whereupon the fool began roaring loud enough to split
his throat: “Give me back my lebleb, give me back my lebleb!” At this
frightful bawling a Jinn popped up his head, and he was so big that his
upper lip swept the sky, while his lower lip hid the earth. “What dost
thou require?” asked the Jinn.--“I want my lebleb, I want my lebleb!”
cried Mehmed.

The Jinn ducked down into the spring, and when he came up again, he held
a little table in his hand. This little table he gave to the fool and
said: “Whenever thou art hungry thou hast only to say: ‘Little table,
give me to eat;’ and when thou hast eaten thy fill, say: ‘Little table,
I have now had enough.’”

So Mehmed took the table and went with it into a village, and when he
felt hungry he said: “Little table, give me to eat!” and immediately
there stood before him so many beautiful, nice dishes that he couldn’t
make up his mind which to begin with. “Well,” thought he, “I must let
the poor people of the village see this wonder also,” so he went and
invited them all to a great banquet.

The villagers came one after another, they looked to the right, they
looked to the left, but there was no sign of a fire, or any preparations
for a meal. “Nay, but he would needs make fools of us!” thought they.
But the young man brought out his table, set it in the midst, and cried:
“Little table, give me to eat!” and there before them stood all manner
of delicious meats and drinks, and so much thereof that when the guests
had stuffed themselves to the very throat, there was enough left over to
fill the servants. Then the villagers laid their heads together as to
how they might manage to have a meal like this every day. “Come now!”
said some of them, “let us steal a march upon Mehmed one day and lay
hands upon his table, and then there will be an end to the fool’s
glory.” And they did so.

What could the poor, empty-bellied fool do then? Why he went to the
wayside spring and asked again: “I want my lebleb, I want my lebleb!”
And he asked and asked so long that at last the Jinn popped up his head
again out of the spring and inquired what was the matter. “I want my
lebleb, I want my lebleb!” cried the fool.--“But where’s thy little
table?”--“They stole it.”

The big-lipped Jinn again popped down, and when he rose out of the
spring again he had a little mill in his hand. This he gave to the fool
and said to him: “Grind it to the right and gold will flow out of it,
grind it to the left and it will give thee silver.” So the youth took
the mill home and ground it first to the right and then to the left, and
huge treasures of gold and silver lay heaped about him on the floor. So
he grew such a rich man that his equal was not to be found in the
village, nay, nor in the town either.

But no sooner had the people of the village got to know all about the
little mill than they laid their heads together and schemed and schemed
till the mill also disappeared[8] one fine morning from Mehmed’s
cottage. Then Mehmed ran off to the spring once more and cried: “I want
my lebleb, I want my lebleb!”

“But where is thy little table? Where is thy little mill?” asked the
big-lipped Jinn.

“They have stolen them both from me,” lamented the witless one, and he
wept bitterly.

Again the Jinn bobbed down, and this time he brought up two sticks with
him. He gave them to the fool, and impressed upon him very strongly on
no account to say: “Strike, strike, my little sticks!”

Mehmed took the sticks, and first he turned them to the right and then
to the left, but could make nothing of them. Then he thought he would
just try the effect of saying: “Strike, strike, my little sticks!” and
no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the sticks fell upon him
unmercifully, and belaboured him on every part of the body that can
feel--the head, the foot, the arm, the back--till he was nothing but one
big ache. “Stop, stop, my little sticks!” cried he, and lo! the two
sticks were still. Then, for all his aches and pains, Mehmed rejoiced
greatly that he had found out the mystery.

He had no sooner got home with the two sticks than he called together
all the villagers, but said not a word about what he meant to do. In
less than a couple of hours everybody had assembled there, and awaited
the new show with great curiosity. Then Mehmed came with his two sticks
and cried: “Strike, strike, my little sticks, strike, strike!” whereupon
the two sticks gave the whole lot of them such a rub-a-dub-dubbing that
it was as much as they could do to howl for mercy. “Now,” said Mehmed,
who was getting his wits back again, “I’ll have no mercy till you have
given back to me my little table and my little mill.”

The people of the village, all bruised and bleeding as they were,
consented to everything, and hurried off for the little table and the
little mill. Then Mehmed cried: “Stand still, my little sticks!” and
there was peace and quiet as before.

Then the man took away the three gifts to his own village, and as he now
had money he grew more sensible, and there also he found his brother. He
gave all the buried treasure to his brother, and each of them sought out
a damsel meet to be a wife, and married, and lived each in a world of
his own. And there was not a wiser man in that village than Mad Mehmed
now that he had grown rich.

[6] Farthings.
[7] Roasted pepper.
[8] _Lit._ the place of the mill was cold one morning.