The story of the little muck - good night stories

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This is how you raise strong children

In Nicea, my dear hometown, there lived a man called the little Muck. I can still imagine him, even if I was very young at the time, especially because my father once beat me because of his half-dead. Little Muck was an old fellow when I knew him; but he was only three or four shoes high, and he had a strange shape, for his body, small and delicate, had to carry a head much larger and thicker than other people’s heads; he lived all alone in a large house and even cooked himself, nor would you have known in the city whether he was alive or dead, for he only went out once every four weeks, if not at noon a powerful steam from the Would have climbed home, but you could often see him walking up and down his roof in the evening, but from the street you believed that only his big head was walking around on the roof. I and my comrades were bad boys who liked to tease and laugh at everyone, so it was always a festive day for us when the little bugger went out; we gathered in front of his house that particular day and waited for him to come out; when the door opened and the large head with the even larger turban peeked out first, when the rest of the body followed, done with a shaved coat, wide trousers and a wide belt with a long dagger on it, so long that you didn’t know Whether Muck on the dagger or the dagger on Muck, when he came out like that, the air sounded from our cries of joy, we threw our hats up and danced around like mad. Little Muck greeted us with a serious nod and walked slowly down the street. We boys ran after him and always shouted: "Little muck, little muck! "We also had a funny little verse, which we sang here and there in honor of him; it said:

"Little Muck, little Muck, you live in a big house, you only go out every four weeks, you are a good little dwarf, you have a little head like a mountain, take a look around and have a look, run and catch us, little Muck!"

So we had often had a short time, and to my shame I have to admit it, I did it the worst; for I often plucked him by the coat, and once I stepped on his large slippers from behind so that he fell. This seemed extremely ridiculous to me, but the laughter faded when I saw little Muck walking towards my father’s house. He really went in and stayed there for a while. I hid at the front door and saw the muck come out, accompanied by my father, who held him respectfully by the hand and said goodbye to him at the door under many stoops. I didn’t feel well at all; I therefore stayed in hiding for a long time; but at last the hunger, which I feared worse than blows, drove me out, and humbly and with my head bowed I stepped before my father. "I hear you insulted the good muck?" He said in a very serious tone. "I want to tell you the story of this muck, and you certainly won’t laugh at it anymore; before and after you get the ordinary. ”But the ordinary was twenty-five blows, which he used to list all too well. So he took his long pipe, unscrewed the amber tip and worked me harder than ever.

When the twenty-five were full, he ordered me to pay attention and told me about the little bugger:

Little Muck’s father, who is actually called Muckrah, was a respected but poor man here in Nicea. He lived almost as hermit as his son now. He did not like this because he was ashamed of his dwarf form, and therefore let him grow up in ignorance. Little Muck was still a funny child in his sixteenth year, and his father, a serious man, always rebuked him for being so stupid and foolish that he should have long since trodden on children’s shoes.

But the old man once did an evil case, from which he also died, leaving the little Muck poor and ignorant. The hard relatives, to whom the deceased owed more than he could pay, chased the poor little boy out of the house and advised him to go out into the world and seek his luck. Little Muck replied that he was ready to travel, but only asked for his father’s suit, and he was given permission to do so. His father had been a tall, strong man, so the clothes didn’t fit. Muck soon got advice; he cut off what was too long and then put on the clothes. But he seemed to have forgotten that he also had to cut in the distance, hence his strange elevator, as can still be seen today; the big turban, the wide belt, the wide trousers, the blue coat, all these are heirlooms of his father that he has worn since then; but he stuck his father’s long Damascus dagger in his belt, took a stick and wandered out of the gate.

He walked happily all day; for he had gone out to look for his luck; when he saw a shard shining on the earth in the sunshine, he certainly put it to himself, believing that it would turn into the most beautiful diamond will; when he saw the dome of a mosque shining like fire in the distance, when he saw a lake flashing like a mirror, he hurried towards it with joy; because he thought he had arrived in a magical land. But oh! Those illusions disappeared nearby, and all too soon his tiredness and hunger-pounding stomach reminded him that he was still in the land of mortals. So he had traveled for two days in hunger and grief and desperate to find his happiness; the fruits of the field were his only food, the hard earth his bed for the night. On the morning of the third day he saw a big city from a hill.

The crescent moon shone brightly on her battlements, colorful flags shimmered on the roofs and seemed to wave the little muck towards them. Surprised, he stood silent and contemplated the city and region. "Yes, Klein-Muck will find his happiness there," he said to himself, and despite his tiredness made an air jump, "there or nowhere." He gathered all his strength and strode toward the city. But although it seemed very close, he could not reach her until noon; for his small limbs almost completely stopped working, and he often had to sit in the shade of a palm tree to rest. At last he had reached the city gate. He put on his coat, put on the turban more beautifully, tightened his belt even more, and stuck the long dagger slate; then he wiped the dust off his shoes, grabbed his stick and bravely went in to the gate.

He had already walked a few streets; but nowhere did the door open to him, nowhere was one called as he had imagined: "Little muck, come in and eat and drink and let your little feet rest!"

He was looking up again longingly at a large, beautiful house; a window opened, an old woman looked out and called in a singing voice:

“Come on, come on! The porridge is cooked, I had the table laid, so you can enjoy it; Your neighbors, the porridge is cooked. ”

The door to the house opened and Muck saw many dogs and cats enter. For a few moments he doubted whether to accept the invitation; but finally he took heart and went into the house. A few young kittens were walking in front of him, and he decided to follow them because they might know the kitchen better than he did.

When Muck had climbed the stairs, he met the old woman who had looked out the window. She looked at him grumpily and asked about his desire. "You invited everyone to your porridge," replied Little Muck, "and because I am so hungry, I came too."

The old woman laughed and said: "Where are you from, whimsical companion? The whole city know that I cook for no one but my dear cats, and here and there I invite them from the neighborhood, as you can see. ”

Little Muck told the old woman how he had fared so hard after his father’s death and asked her to let him feed him with her cats today. The woman, who liked the child’s good-natured tale, allowed him to be her guest and gave him plenty to eat and drink. When he was satisfied and strengthened, the woman looked at him for a long time and then said: "Little muck, stay with me in my service! You have little trouble and should be kept well. «

The little Muck, who had enjoyed the porridge, agreed and became the servant of Mrs. Ahavzi. He had an easy but strange service. Ms. Ahavzi had two cats and four cats. Little Muck had to comb their fur every morning and rub them with delicious ointments; when the woman went out he had to pay attention to the cats, when they ate he had to present them with the bowls, and at night he had to put them on silk cushions and cover them with velvet blankets. There were also a few small dogs left in the house that he had to serve, but they did not cause as much trouble as the cats, which Mrs. Ahavzi kept like her own children. Incidentally, Muck lived a life as lonely as in his father’s house, because apart from the woman he saw only dogs and cats all day. Little Muck was fine for a while; he always had food and little work, and the old woman seemed to be quite happy with him, but little by little the cats became naughty, when the old woman went out they jumped around the room obsessively, messing everything up and broke many beautiful dishes that stood in their way. But when they heard the woman coming up the stairs, they crawled on their cushions and wagged their tails at them as if nothing had happened. The woman Ahavzi then got angry when she saw her rooms so devastated and blamed everything on Muck, he might assert his innocence as he wanted, she believed her cats, who looked so innocent, more than their servant.

Little Muck was very sad that he hadn’t found his luck here either, and decided to leave Frau Ahavzi’s service. But since he had learned on his first trip how badly one lived without money, he decided to get the wages that his mistress had always promised but never gave him in any way. There was a room in Ms. Ahavzi’s house that was always locked and the interior of which he had never seen. But he had often heard the woman rumble in it, and he would often have liked to know what she had hidden there for his life. When he thought of his travel money, he remembered that the woman’s treasures might be hidden there. But the door was always tightly locked, so he could never get the treasures.

One morning when the woman Ahavzi had gone out, one of the little dogs, who was always treated very neglectfully by the woman, but whose favor he had gained to a great extent through all sorts of love services, plucked him on his wide trousers and behaved like that if Muck should follow him. Muck, who liked to play with the dogs, followed him, and lo and behold, the little dog led him into Ms. Ahavzi’s bedroom, in front of a small door he had never noticed before. The door was half open. The little dog went in and Muck followed him, and how pleasantly surprised he was when he saw that he was in the room that had long been the target of his wishes. He looked around everywhere to find no money, but found nothing. Only old clothes and wonderfully shaped harnesses stood around. One of these harnesses caught his special attention. It was made of crystal and beautiful figures were cut out on it. He picked it up and turned it to all sides. But, oh horror! He hadn’t noticed that it had a lid that was only slightly placed on it. The lid fell off and broke into a thousand pieces.

For a long time little Muck was lifeless from terror. Now his fate was decided, now he had to escape, otherwise the old woman would kill him. His trip was immediately over, and he only wanted to look again to see if he could use any of the Ahavzi belongings for his march. Then a pair of huge slippers caught his eye; they weren’t beautiful; but his own could no longer go on a trip; also those attracted him because of their size; because if he had them on his feet, then hopefully everyone would have to see that he had represented the children’s shoes. So he quickly took off his spoon and drove into the big ones. A walking stick with a nicely cut lion’s head seemed too idle in the corner here too; so he took it with him and hurried out of the room. Now he quickly went to his chamber, put on his coat, put on his father’s turban, put the dagger in his belt and ran as fast as his feet carried out of the house and the city. He ran away from the city, afraid of the old woman, until he was almost unable to get tired. He hadn’t gone that fast in his life; yes, it seemed to him that he couldn’t stop running; because an invisible force seemed to tear him away. At last he noticed that the slippers had to be related; because these always shot away and carried him with him. He tried to stand still in all sorts of ways; but it didn’t want to succeed; Then, in dire need, he called out to himself how to call the horses: "Oh – oh, stop, oh!" Then the slippers stopped and Muck threw himself down on the ground, exhausted.

The slippers made him extremely happy. So he had earned something through his merits that could help him find happiness in the world on his way. Despite his joy, he fell asleep from exhaustion; for the little Muck’s body, which had to carry such a heavy head, could not endure much. In a dream the little dog that had helped him get his slippers in Ms. Ahavzi’s house appeared to him and said to him: "Dear Muck, you still don’t understand the use of the slippers; You know, if you turn around on the heel three times, you can fly wherever you want, and with the little stick you can find treasures, because where gold is buried, it will hit the earth three times, twice with silver So little Muck dreamed. But when he woke up, he thought about the wonderful dream and decided to give it a try. He put on his slippers, lifted a foot and started to turn on his heel. But anyone who has ever tried to do this feat three times in a row in a tremendously wide slipper will not be surprised if little Muck was not immediately happy, especially when you consider that his heavy head will soon be on him, now on pulled that side over.

The poor little boy fell hard on the nose; but he was not deterred from trying again and finally succeeded. He rode around on his heel like a bicycle, wished for the next big city, and – his slippers rowed up into the air, ran through the clouds at lightning speed, before the little Muck could remember what was happening to him he was already in a large market place, where many booths had been opened and countless people were running back and forth. He went back and forth among the people, but thought it better to go to a lonely street; because at the market someone soon kicked him in the slippers, that he almost fell over, now he bumped one or the other with his far-reaching dagger, so that he escaped the blows with difficulty.

Little Muck was now seriously considering what he could do to make some money; he had a staff to show him hidden treasures, but where should he find a place where gold or silver would be buried? He could also have shown himself for money if necessary; but he was too proud for that. At last he remembered the speed of his feet, "maybe," he thought, "my slippers can give me maintenance," and decided to go fast. But since he could hope that the king of this city would best pay for such services, he asked the palace. A guard stood under the gate of the palace and asked him what he was doing here. When he answered that he was looking for a job, he was referred to the slave supervisor. He presented his request to him and asked him to provide him with service under the royal messengers. The warden measured him from head to toe with his eyes and said: "How, with your little feet, which are barely as long as a span, do you want to become a royal high-speed runner? Lift yourself away, I’m not there to be entertaining with every fool. ”Little Muck, however, assured him that he was completely serious about his proposal and that he wanted to make a bet as quickly as possible. It seemed ridiculous to the supervisor; he ordered him to be ready for a race until the evening, led him into the kitchen and made sure that he was properly given food and drink; but he himself went to the king and told him about little Muck and his offer. The king was a jolly gentleman, so he liked the fact that the slave overseer had kept the little man for fun, and ordered him to make arrangements on a large lawn behind the castle so that the race could be done comfortably by everyone The royal household could be seen and again recommended that he take great care of the dwarf. The king told his princes and princesses what a spectacle they would have this evening, they told their servants again, and when evening came there was anticipation and everything that had feet poured out onto the meadow, where scaffolding had been opened to see the great-talking dwarf running.

When the king and his sons and daughters had taken a seat on the scaffolding, Little Muck stepped out onto the meadow and made a very delicate bow to the high rulers. There was a general cry of joy when the little one was seen; one had never seen such a figure there. The little body with the mighty head, the coat and the wide trousers, the long dagger in the wide belt, the little feet in the wide slippers – no! it was too funny to look at as not to laugh out loud. Little laughter could not be misled by the laughter. He stood proudly, leaning on his stick, and awaited his opponent. The overseer of the slaves had chosen the best runner according to Muck’s wishes. The latter came out and stood next to the little ones, and both waited for the sign. Then Princess Amarza waved her veil, as was agreed, and like two arrows shot at the same target, the two runners flew across the meadow.

From the beginning, Muck’s opponent had a significant lead, but this chased him on his slipper, caught up with him, overpowered him and was long at the goal when he was still gasping for breath. The spectators were amazed and amazed for a few moments, but when the king clapped his hands first, the crowd cheered and everyone shouted: "Long live little Muck, the winner in the race!"

Little Muck had been brought in; he prostrated himself before the king and said: "Most powerful king, I have given you only a small sample of my art here; I just want to allow me to be given a job among your runners! ”

But the king replied to him: "No, you should be my beloved and always around me, dear Muck, every year you should receive a hundred pieces of gold as wages, and you should dine at the table of my first servants."

So Muck thought he had finally found the happiness he had been looking for and was happy and cheerful in his heart. He also enjoyed the special grace of the king, because he used it for his fastest and most secret programs, which he then got with the greatest accuracy and with incredible speed.

But the king’s other servants were not at all fond of him, because they were reluctant to see themselves put back in their master’s favor by a dwarf who understood nothing but to run fast. They therefore conspired against him to overthrow him; but all failed in the great confidence that the king put in his secret abdomen (for he had achieved this dignity in such a short time).

Muck, who did not miss these movements against him, did not seek revenge, he had one too good for that heart, no, on medium he thought to make himself necessary and popular with his enemies. Then he remembered his staff, which he had luckily disregarded; if he found treasures, he thought, the gentlemen would be more inclined to him. He had heard many times that the father of the current king had buried many of his treasures when the enemy attacked his country; it was also said that he died about it without being able to tell his son his secret. From then on, Muck always took his little stick with him, hoping to pass somewhere where the old king’s money was buried. One evening coincidence led him to a remote part of the castle garden, which he visited little, and suddenly he felt the little stick twitch in his hand and hit the ground three times. Now he already knew what that meant. So he pulled out his dagger, made signs in the surrounding trees, and sneaked back into the castle; there he got a spade and waited for his company the night.

Incidentally, the trench itself was more difficult for little Muck than he thought.

His arms were too weak, but his spade was big and heavy; and he must have worked two hours before digging a few feet. Finally he came across something hard that sounded like iron. He was digging harder now, and soon he had uncovered a large iron lid; he climbed down into the pit himself to see what the lid might have covered and found a large pot filled with gold pieces. But his weak strength was not enough to lift the pot, so he put his trousers and belt in as much as he could carry, and he filled his coats with it, covered the rest carefully, and loaded it onto his back. But truly, if he hadn’t had his slippers on his feet, he would not have got off the spot, the burden of gold pulled him down. But unnoticed he came to his room and kept his gold under the cushions of his sofa.

When little Muck saw himself in possession of so much gold, he believed that the tide would now turn and that he would acquire many patrons and warm followers among his enemies in the court. But one could already see from this that the good muck did not have to have had a thorough upbringing, otherwise he probably could not have imagined that gold would make real friends. Oh, that he would have lubricated his slippers at that time and made off with his coat of gold!

The gold that little Muck was handing out from now on filled the envy of the rest of the court staff. The kitchen master Ahuli said: "He is a counterfeiter."

The slave overseer Achmet said: "He chatted it off to the king."

Archaz, the treasurer, but, his worst enemy, who here and there tried to get a handle on the king’s till, almost said: "He stole it."

In order to be certain of their cause, they made an appointment, and one day the upper-arm giver Korchuz stood before the eyes of the king quite sad and depressed. He made his sad gestures so striking that the king asked him what was wrong with him .

"Ah," he replied, "I am sorry that I have lost my Lord’s mercy."

"What are you fooling, friend Korchuz?" Replied the king. "Since when have I not allowed the sun of my grace to shine on you?" The waiter replied that he was loading the secret torso with gold, but giving nothing to his poor, loyal servants.

The king was amazed at the news, had Little Muck’s gold handouts told him, and the conspirators easily taught him to suspect that Muck had somehow stolen the money from the treasury. This turn of events was very dear to the treasurer, who did not like to pay the bill anyway. The king therefore gave the order to secretly watch over every step of little Muck in order to possibly catch him in action. When, on the night following this unfortunate day, little Muck, because he was exhausted by his generosity, took the spade and sneaked into the castle garden to get new supplies from his secret treasure, followed him the guards, headed by the kitchen master Ahuli and Archaz, the treasurer, and at the moment when he wanted to put the gold out of the pot into his coat, they fell upon him, tied him and immediately led him before the king. The latter, who had already been made grumpy by the interruption of his sleep, received his poor abdomen very ungraciously and immediately interrogated him. The pot had been dug out of the ground and placed at the king’s feet with a spade and a coat of gold. The treasurer testified that he had surprised the muck with his guards as he had just dug this pot of gold into the earth.

The king then asked the accused whether it was true and where he got the gold he buried.

Little Muck, feeling innocent, testified that he had discovered this pot in the garden, that he did not want to dig it in, but dig it out.

Everyone present laughed loudly at this apology, but the king, furious at the supposed insolence of the little one, exclaimed: "How, miserable! You want to lie to your king so stupidly and shamefully after you rob him? Treasurer Archaz! I ask you to say whether you recognize this sum of gold for the same that is missing in my treasure. ”

But the treasurer replied that he was quite certain of his cause, that there had been a lack of the royal treasure for some time and more, and that he could take an oath that this was the stolen.

Then the king ordered that the little Muck be put in tight chains and led into the tower; but he handed the gold over to the treasurer to carry it back to the treasure. Happy with the happy outcome of the matter, he pulled it off and counted the flashing gold pieces at home; but this bad man never indicated that there was a note in the bottom of the pot that said: "The enemy has flooded my country, so I am hiding part of my treasures here; whoever finds it will be hit by the curse of his king if he does not immediately deliver it to my son! King Sadi. ”

Little Muck contemplated sadly in his dungeon; he knew that death was stolen from royal things, and yet he did not want to reveal the secret to the king with the stick because he was right to fear that he and his slippers would be robbed. Unfortunately, his slippers could not help him either; for since he was tied to the wall in tight chains, he could not turn around on his heel, as much as he tortured himself. But when his death was announced the next day, when he thought it was better to live without the wand than to die with him, he had the king ask for his secret hearing and discovered the secret. The king did not believe in his confession from the start; but Little Muck promised a trial if the king allowed him not to be killed.

The king gave him his word on it and, unseen by Muck, had some gold dug into the earth and ordered him to search with his stick. In a few moments he had found it; because the stick hit the earth three times. Then the king noticed that his treasurer had cheated on him and, as is customary in the East, sent him a silk cord to strangle himself. To the little muck he said: "I have promised you your life; but it seems to me that you do not have this secret with the stick alone; that is why you will remain in captivity forever if you do not confess what your fast-moving situation is. ”Little Muck, who had been dizzy from the long night in the tower, confessed that all his art was in his slippers lying, but he did not teach the king the secret of turning the heel three times. The king slipped on his slippers to test himself and hunted around the garden like nonsense; he often wanted to stop; but he did not know how to stop the slippers, and the little muck who could not refuse this little revenge let him go until he passed out.

When the king returned to his senses, he was terrified at the little muck that had made him run out of breath. »I have given you my word to give you freedom and life; but you have to leave my country within twelve hours, or I’ll let you unbutton! ”But he had the slippers and the chopsticks put in his treasury.

Little Muck wandered out of the country as poor as ever, cursing his folly, which had pretended that he could play an important role in the court. Fortunately, the country from which he was hunted was not large, so he was already on the border after eight hours, although walking, because he was used to his lovely slippers, made him very angry.

When he was over the border, he left the ordinary road to seek out the densest wasteland in the woods and only live there; because he was grieved for all people. In a dense forest he found a place that seemed quite suitable to the decision he had made. A clear brook, surrounded by large, shady fig trees, a soft lawn invited him; here he prostrated himself with the decision not to eat any more, but to expect death here. He fell asleep over the sad contemplation of death; but when he woke up again and hunger began to torment him, he considered that starvation was a dangerous thing and looked around to see if he could get anything to eat.

Delicious ripe figs hung from the tree under which he had slept; he climbed up to pick some, tasted it well, and then went down to the stream to quench his thirst. But how terrified he was when the water showed him his head adorned with two huge ears and a thick, long nose! He gripped his ears in dismay, and really, they were over half a cubit long.

"I deserve donkey ears!" He exclaimed; "For I trod my luck like a donkey." He wandered among the trees, and when he felt hungry again he had to take refuge in the figs; otherwise he found nothing edible on the trees. When he thought about the second portion of figs whether his ears would not have space under his big turban so that he didn’t look too ridiculous, he felt that his ears had disappeared. He immediately ran back to the creek to see for himself, and really, it was, his ears were in their previous shape, his long, misshapen nose was no longer. Now he noticed how this had come about; he had got his long nose and ears from the first fig tree, the second had healed him; he was glad to see that his kindness once again gave him the means to be happy. He therefore picked as much of each tree as he could carry and went back to the country he had recently left. There he made himself unrecognizable with other clothes in the first town and then went on to the town that the king lived in and soon arrived there.

It was just at a time of year when ripe fruit was still quite rare; the little muck therefore sat under the gate of the palace; because it was well known from earlier times that such rarities were bought here by the master chef for the royal table. Muck hadn’t been sitting long when he saw the chef walking across the yard. He examined the goods of the vendors who had gathered at the palace gate; finally he caught sight of Muck’s basket. "Ah, a rare bite," he said, "that will surely please Her Majesty. What do you want for the whole basket? ”Little Muck set a moderate price, and they soon agreed to trade. The kitchen master gave the basket to a slave and went on; Little Muck, meanwhile, is leaving the dust because he was afraid that if the misfortune showed on the heads of the courtyard, one would like to seek him out and punish him as a seller.

The king was very cheerful about the table and once said to his kitchen master about the other praises for his good cuisine and the care with which he always selected the rarest for him; but the kitchen master, who knew well what delicacies he still had in the background, smiled evenly and dropped only a few words as: "It is not yet evening every day," or "All is well that ends well," so that Princesses became very curious about what he would bring. But when he had the beautiful, inviting figs put on, a general Ah escaped. the mouth of those present.

"How ripe, how appetizing!" Cried the king. "Master chef, you’re a whole guy and deserve our special grace!" So speaking, the king, who used to be very economical with such delicacies, handed out the figs on his table with his own hand. Each prince and princess was given two, the court ladies and the viziers and agas one, the others he placed in front of him and began to devour them with great comfort.

"But, dear God, how do you look so strange, father?" Suddenly called the princess Amarza. Everyone looked at the king in astonishment; tremendous ears hung from his head, a long nose pulled down his chin; they also looked at each other with astonishment and terror; everyone was tasted more or less with the strange headdress.

Imagine the horrors of the yard! They immediately sent for all the doctors in the city; they came in heaps of prescribed pills and mixtures; but the ears and noses remained. One of the princes was operated on; but the ears grew back.

Muck had heard the whole story in his hiding place, where he had retreated, and realized that it was time to act. He had previously obtained a suit from the money released from the figs, which could portray him as a scholar; a long beard of goat hair completed the deception. With a sack full of figs, he wandered into the king’s palace and offered to help as a foreign doctor. You were very incredulous from the start; but when Little Muck gave a fig to one of the princes and brought his ears and nose back to their old state, everything wanted to be healed by the strange doctor. But the king silently took him by the hand and led him into his room; there he unlocked a door that led to the treasury and beckoned Muck to follow him. "Here are my treasures," said the king, "choose whatever it is, you shall be granted if you free me from this disgraceful evil."

That was sweet music in Little Muck’s ears; he had seen his slippers on the floor as soon as he entered, and his chopstick was also right next to it. He now walked around the room as if to admire the king’s treasures; but no sooner had he got hold of his slippers than he hurriedly slipped inside, took his chopstick, tore off his false beard, and showed the astonished king the well-known face of his rejected muck. "Unfaithful King," said he, "for you who deserve faithful service with ingratitude, take the deformity you bear as a well-deserved punishment. I’ll leave your ears to remind you of Little Muck every day. ”When he had said this, he quickly turned on his heel, wished far away, and before the king could call for help, he was little muck escaped. Since then little Muck has lived here in great prosperity, but lonely; because he despises people. Through experience he has become a wise man who, although his appearance may have something striking, deserves your admiration more than your ridicule.

“So my father told me; I testified to him of my remorse for my rough behavior against the good little man, and my father gave me the other half of the punishment he had given me. I told my comrades the wonderful fate of the little one and we loved him so much that no one scolded him anymore. On the contrary, we honored him as long as he was alive and always bent over him as deeply as before Kadi and Mufti. «

The travelers decided to take a rest day in this caravanserai to strengthen themselves and the animals for the further journey. Yesterday’s cheerfulness also passed to this day and they enjoyed themselves in all kinds of games. After dinner, however, they called on the fifth merchant, Ali Sizah, to do his duty as well as the others and tell a story. He replied that his life was too poor in striking events to tell them something about it, so he wanted to tell them something else, namely: The Fairy Tale of the False Prince.

The story of the little muck – good night stories

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