The following is an old but good story. The Rev. Joseph Wilkins died, an aged man, in 1800. He left this narrative, often printed; the date of the adventure is 1754, when Mr. Wilkins, aged twenty-three, was a schoolmaster in Devonshire. The ... Read more of The Dream That Knocked At The Door at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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What The Goodman Does Is Always Right

from Hans Andersens Fairy Tales





I WILL tell you a story that was told to me when I was a little boy.
Every time I think of this story it seems to me more and more charming;
for it is with stories as it is with many people--they become better as
they grow older.

I have no doubt that you have been in the country and seen a very old
farmhouse, with thatched roof, and mosses and small plants growing wild
upon it. There is a stork's nest on the ridge of the gable, for we
cannot do without the stork. The walls of the house are sloping, and the
windows are low, and only one of the latter is made to open. The baking
oven sticks out of the wall like a great knob. An elder tree hangs over
the palings, and beneath its branches, at the foot of the paling, is a
pool of water in which a few ducks are sporting. There is a yard dog,
too, that barks at all comers.

Just such a farmhouse as this stood in a country lane, and in it dwelt
an old couple, a peasant and his wife. Small as their possessions were,
they had one thing they could not do without, and that was a horse,
which contrived to live upon the grass found by the side of the
highroad. The old peasant rode into the town upon this horse, and his
neighbors often borrowed it of him and paid for the loan of it by
rendering some service to the old couple. Yet after a time the old
people thought it would be as well to sell the horse or exchange it for
something which might be more useful to them. But what should this
something be?

"You will know best, old man," said the wife. "It is fair day to-day; so
ride into town and get rid of the horse for money or make a good
exchange. Whichever you do will please me; so ride to the fair."

She fastened his neckerchief for him, for she could do that better than
he could and she could also tie it very prettily in a double bow. She
also smoothed his hat round and round with the palm of her hand and gave
him a kiss. Then he rode away upon the horse that was to be sold, or
bartered for something else. Yes, the goodman knew what he was about.
The sun shone with great heat, and not a cloud was to be seen in the
sky. The road was very dusty, for many people, all going to the fair,
were driving, riding, or walking upon it. There was no shelter anywhere
from the hot sun. Among the crowd a man came trudging along, driving a
cow to the fair. The cow was as beautiful a creature as any cow could
be.

"She gives good milk, I am certain," said the peasant to himself. "That
would be a very good exchange: the cow for the horse. Halloo there! you
with the cow," he said. "I tell you what, I dare say a horse is of more
value than a cow; but I don't care for that. A cow will be more useful
to me, so if you like we'll exchange."

"To be sure I will," said the man.



Accordingly the exchange was made. When the matter was settled the
peasant might have turned back, for he had done the business he came
to do. But having made up his mind to go to the fair, he determined to
do so, if only to have a look at it. So on he went to the town with his
cow. Leading the animal, he strode on sturdily, and, after a short time,
overtook a man who was driving a sheep. It was a good fat sheep, with a
fine fleece on its back.

"I should like to have that fellow," said the peasant to himself. "There
is plenty of grass for him by our palings, and in the winter we could
keep him in the room with us. Perhaps it would be more profitable to
have a sheep than a cow. Shall I exchange?"

The man with the sheep was quite ready, and the bargain was quickly
made. And then our peasant continued his way on the highroad with his
sheep. Soon after this, he overtook another man, who had come into the
road from a field, and was carrying a large goose under his arm.

"What a heavy creature you have there!" said the peasant. "It has plenty
of feathers and plenty of fat, and would look well tied to a string, or
paddling in the water at our place. That would be very useful to my old
woman; she could make all sorts of profit out of it. How often she has
said, 'If we only had a goose!' Now here is an opportunity, and, if
possible, I will get it for her. Shall we exchange? I will give you my
sheep for your goose, and thanks into the bargain."

The other had not the least objection, and accordingly the exchange was
made, and our peasant became possessor of the goose. By this time he had
arrived very near the town. The crowd on the highroad had been gradually
increasing, and there was quite a rush of men and cattle. The cattle
walked on the path and by the palings, and at the turnpike gate they
even walked into the toll keeper's potato field, where one fowl was
strutting about with a string tied to its leg, lest it should take
fright at the crowd and run away and get lost. The tail feathers of this
fowl were very short, and it winked with both its eyes, and looked very
cunning as it said, "Cluck, cluck." What were the thoughts of the fowl
as it said this I cannot tell you, but as soon as our good man saw it,
he thought, "Why, that's the finest fowl I ever saw in my life; it's
finer than our parson's brood hen, upon my word. I should like to have
that fowl. Fowls can always pick up a few grains that lie about, and
almost keep themselves. I think it would be a good exchange if I could
get it for my goose. Shall we exchange?" he asked the toll keeper.

"Exchange?" repeated the man. "Well, it would not be a bad thing."

So they made an exchange; the toll keeper at the turnpike gate kept the
goose, and the peasant carried off the fowl. Now he really had done a
great deal of business on his way to the fair, and he was hot and tired.
He wanted something to eat, and a glass of ale to refresh himself; so he
turned his steps to an inn. He was just about to enter, when the ostler
came out, and they met at the door. The ostler was carrying a sack.
"What have you in that sack?" asked the peasant.

"Rotten apples," answered the ostler; "a whole sackful of them. They
will do to feed the pigs with."

"Why, that will be terrible waste," the peasant replied. "I should like
to take them home to my old woman. Last year the old apple tree by the
grassplot bore only one apple, and we kept it in the cupboard till it
was quite withered and rotten. It was property, my old woman said. Here
she would see a great deal of property--a whole sackful. I should like
to show them to her."

"What will you give me for the sackful?" asked the ostler.

"What will I give? Well, I will give you my fowl in exchange."

So he gave up the fowl and received the apples, which he carried into
the inn parlor. He leaned the sack carefully against the stove, and then
went to the table. But the stove was hot, and he had not thought of
that. Many guests were present--horse-dealers, cattle-drovers, and two
Englishmen. The Englishmen were so rich that their pockets bulged and
seemed ready to burst; and they could bet too, as you shall hear.
Hiss--s--s, hiss--s--s. What could that be by the stove? The apples were
beginning to roast. "What is that?" asked one.

"Why, do you know--" said our peasant, and then he told them the whole
story of the horse, which he had exchanged for a cow, and all the rest
of it, down to the apples.

"Well, your old woman will give it to you when you get home," said one
of the Englishmen. "Won't there be a noise?"

"What! Give me what?" said the peasant. "Why, she will kiss me, and say,
'What the goodman does is always right.'"

"Let us lay a wager on it," said the Englishman. "We'll wager you a ton
of coined gold, a hundred pounds to the hundredweight."

"No, a bushel will be enough," replied the peasant. "I can only set a
bushel of apples against it, and I'll throw myself and my old woman into
the bargain. That will pile up the measure, I fancy."

"Done! taken!" and so the bet was made.

Then the landlord's coach came to the door, and the two Englishmen and
the peasant got in, and away they drove. Soon they had stopped at the
peasant's hut. "Good evening, old woman."

"Good evening, old man."

"I've made the exchange."

"Ah, well, you understand what you're about," said the woman. Then she
embraced him, and paid no attention to the strangers, nor did she notice
the sack.

"I got a cow in exchange for the horse."

"Oh, how delightful!" said she. "Now we shall have plenty of milk, and
butter, and cheese on the table. That was a capital exchange."

"Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep."

"Ah, better still!" cried the wife. "You always think of everything; we
have just enough pasture for a sheep. Ewe's milk and cheese, woolen
jackets and stockings! The cow could not give all these, and her hairs
only fall off. How you think of everything!"

"But I changed away the sheep for a goose."

"Then we shall have roast goose to eat this year. You dear old man, you
are always thinking of something to please me. This is delightful. We
can let the goose walk about with a string tied to her leg, so that she
will get fatter still before we roast her."

"But I gave away the goose for a fowl."

"A fowl! Well, that was a good exchange," replied the woman. "The fowl
will lay eggs and hatch them, and we shall have chickens. We shall soon
have a poultry yard. Oh, this is just what I was wishing for!"

"Yes, but I exchanged the fowl for a sack of shriveled apples."

"What! I must really give you a kiss for that!" exclaimed the wife. "My
dear, good husband, now I'll tell you something. Do you know, almost as
soon as you left me this morning, I began thinking of what I could give
you nice for supper this evening, and then I thought of fried eggs and
bacon, with sweet herbs. I had eggs and bacon but lacked the herbs, so I
went over to the schoolmaster's. I knew they had plenty of herbs, but
the schoolmistress is very mean, although she can smile so sweetly. I
begged her to lend me a handful of herbs. 'Lend!' she exclaimed, 'I have
nothing to lend. I could not even lend you a shriveled apple, my dear
woman.' But now I can lend her ten, or a whole sackful, for which I'm
very glad. It makes me laugh to think of it." Then she gave him a hearty
kiss.

"Well, I like all this," said both the Englishmen; "always going down
the hill and yet always merry. It's worth the money to see it." So they
paid a hundredweight of gold to the peasant who, whatever he did, was
not scolded but kissed.

Yes, it always pays best when the wife sees and maintains that her
husband knows best and that whatever he does is right.

This is a story which I heard when I was a child. And now you have heard
it, too, and know that "What the goodman does is always right."





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