Farmer Broom, Farmer Leaves, and Farmer Iron

Once upon a time there were three peasants who lived in the same wood.

The first had a hut made of broom.

The second had a hut made of leaves.

The third had a hut made of iron.

That is why they were known as Farmer Broom, Farmer Leaves, and Farmer

Iron.

One cold winter afternoon a wolf came stealthily into the clearing where

the three farmers had built their huts. He hid himself behind a thick

bush and hungrily watched the skaters as they glided over the polished

surface of the ice. At twilight, just as Farmer Broom had returned home

from the forest with a faggot of wood, the wolf knocked at his door, and

cried, “Farmer Broom, Farmer Broom, open the door, my friend; my little

hands are so cold, and my little feet are frozen.”

“I will not open the door,” Farmer Broom replied gruffly.

“Then I shall break it open.” The wolf hurled himself with such force

against the door that he burst it open, went into the hut, and sat down

by the fire.

Farmer Broom was about to peel potatoes, and the wolf

began to repeat in a hoarse voice, “Warm in the stomach, as I shall have

fat pigs. Warm in the stomach, as I shall have fat pigs.”

“What are you muttering about?” Farmer Broom asked innocently.

“Well,” replied the wolf, “you will be the first! But give me a potato

at once; I am as hungry as can be.”

Farmer Broom put a potato on the point of his knife, and held it out at

arm’s length to the wolf, but the latter swallowed the potato, the

knife, and the farmer at a gulp.

The next day the wolf knocked at Farmer Leaves’ door, just after the

latter had returned with a basketful of dead leaves which he had

collected from beneath the snow.

“Farmer Leaves, Farmer Leaves, open the door, my dear friend; my little

feet are so cold, and my little hands are frozen.”

“I shall not open it,” replied Farmer Leaves.

“Then I shall burst it open,” said the wolf, and thereupon he threw his

weight against the door, forced it open, went in and sat down by the

fire.

Farmer Leaves was also about to peel potatoes, and the wolf said in a

deep voice, “Warm in the stomach, as I shall have fat pigs. Warm in the

stomach, as I shall have fat pigs.”

“What are you mumbling?” asked Farmer Leaves.

“Well,” said the wolf, “I was saying a little prayer for you, but,

quick, give me a potato, I am dying of hunger.”

Farmer Leaves held out his knife with a potato stuck on the end, but

again the wolf swallowed the potato, the knife, and the farmer at a

gulp.

The third day he went to Farmer Iron. The latter had seen him coming in

the distance, as he was entering his hut with a bucketful of water from

the well. He placed a large cauldron full of dried peas in the attic.

The wolf knocked, and cried, “Farmer Iron, Farmer Iron, open the door,

my friend; my little feet are so cold, and my little hands are frozen.”

“I shall not open it,” said Farmer Iron.

“Then I shall burst it open.”

“All right, burst it open,” said Farmer Iron.

The wolf made a spring and charged at the door, and dashed himself

against it until his paws were torn and bleeding. He lost so much blood

that Farmer Iron ended by taking pity on him, and opened the door.

The wolf went in and sat down by the fire with Farmer Iron. Very soon he

began to say in a sepulchral voice, “Warm in the stomach, as I shall

have fat pigs. Warm in the stomach, as I shall have fat pigs.”

“What nonsense are you repeating?” asked Farmer Iron in a derisive tone.

“Well,” said the wolf, “it is a little prayer for you, but give me a

potato, my stomach feels quite hollow and empty.”

Farmer Iron held out a potato. The wolf was about to swallow it when

Farmer Iron suddenly pulled a string and upset the cauldron of dried

peas, which made a great noise as they ran out on the attic floor.

“Whatever is it, whatever is it?” asked the frightened wolf.

“The police who are tracking you down,” answered Farmer Iron, laughing.

“They want to hang you for eating Farmer Broom and Farmer Leaves.”

“Good heavens, Farmer Iron, my friend, tell me where I can hide,” begged

the wolf.

“Quick, climb into the attic,” said Farmer Iron. “I will not betray

you.”

The wolf rushed to the ladder. Farmer Iron took a large saucepan of

boiling water off the fire and put it down at the foot of the ladder.

The wolf was in such a hurry that he slipped and fell into the saucepan,

and was terribly scalded. Farmer Iron pulled him out, cut him open, and,

oh, what joy! Farmer Broom and Farmer Leaves came out alive, each

carrying his knife with a potato on the end.

They all three lifted up the wolf and threw him outside, and each

returned to his own hut.

This is what happened in that wonderful country where after you are dead

you live happy ever after.