Part 25 (1/2)

_The Story of a Man Who Outfitted Another_

Once upon a time there was a laborer who said to his master:

”It is time to plant the fields.”

”Very well,” said his master. ”The part which grows above the ground shall be mine and you shall have in payment for your labor the part which grows below the ground.”

”Agreed,” said the laborer.

He planted the fields with potatoes. His master had nothing but the tops outside the earth. The laborer harvested many baskets of potatoes that year and sold them for a goodly sum. The master was angry because of this.

”Next harvest time,” said he, ”we'll see about things! You shall give me what grows below the ground and keep for yourself what grows above.”

”Agreed,” said the laborer. ”That is perfectly fair to me.”

The laborer planted the fields with wheat. His master had nothing but the roots, while he harvested a rich crop of wheat which he sold for much money.

”I'll settle with you,” said his master.

The laborer was frightened.

”Don't be afraid,” said his wife. ”When your master comes let me talk to him.”

The woman gashed her face and hands with the pruning knife.

The master came to the door and she opened it.

”Where is your husband?” he asked.

”He is sharpening his nails,” said she. ”See what ugly scratches I already have upon my hands and face.”

The master went away without punis.h.i.+ng the laborer.

'TIS FAITH WHICH SAVES

_The Story of a Maid Who Was Betrothed to One She Trusted_

There was once upon a time a fair maid who lived in the island of Fayal. She was betrothed to a young man of the same island. One day she fell ill with a disease which baffled the skill of all the physicians. Their arts, the mourning of her betrothed, the prayers and tears of her mother, all seemed of no avail. It appeared that the fair maid would die.

[Ill.u.s.tration: It appeared that the fair maid would die]

Now it happened that in one of the nearby islands, St. Michael, there was a miracle-working image called the Santo Christo. The fair maid begged of her betrothed that he would go to St. Michael and procure some of the mysterious miracle-working sweat of the Santo Christo or some of the miraculous parings of the nails of the image, which had the power to heal any disease.

The young man gladly set out on the quest. On the boat which conveyed him to St. Michael, however, he met a maid with beauty and charm, a maid whose bright eyes made him forget the sad eyes of his betrothed.

When he arrived at his destination he thought only of singing gay songs beneath the balcony of his new love. The days flew by, and soon it was time for the boat to return to Fayal. He had forgotten the mission on which he had come, and he returned to the boat with no relics of the miracle-working Santo Christo.