There was once a Father who had two sons. One was clever and sensible,
and always knew how to get on. But the younger one was stupid, and
could not learn anything, and he had no imagination.
When people saw him, they said: 'His Father will have plenty of
trouble with him.'
Whenever there was anything to be done, the eldest one always had to
do it. But if his Father sent him to fetch anything late in the
evening, or at night, and the way lay through the churchyard, or any
other dreary place, he would answer: 'Oh no, Father, not there; it
makes me shudder!' For he was afraid.
In the evening, when stories were being told round the fire which made
one's flesh creep, and the listeners said: 'Oh, you make me shudder!'
the youngest son, sitting in the corner listening, could not imagine
what they meant. 'They always say "It makes me shudder! It makes me
shudder!" And it doesn't make me shudder a bit. It must be some art
which I can't understand.'
Now it happened one day that his Father said to him: 'I say, you in
the corner there, you are growing big and strong. You must learn
something by which you can make a living. See what pains your brother
takes, but you are not worth your salt.'
'Well, Father,' he answered, 'I am quite ready to learn something;
nay, I should very much like to learn how to shudder, for I know
nothing about that.'
The elder son laughed when he heard him, and thought: 'Good heavens!
what a fool my brother is; he will never do any good as long as he
lives.'
But his Father sighed, and answered: 'You will easily enough learn how
to shudder, but you won't make your bread by it.'
Soon after, the Sexton came to the house on a visit, and the Father
confided his troubles about his son to him. He told him how stupid he
was, and how he never could learn anything. 'Would you believe that
when I asked him how he was going to make his living, he said he would
like to learn how to shudder?'
'If that's all,' said the Sexton, 'he may learn that from me. Just let
me have him, and I'll soon put the polish on him.'
The Father was pleased, for he thought: 'Anyhow, the Lad will gain
something by it.'
So the Sexton took him home with him, and he had to ring the church
bells.
A few days after, the Sexton woke him at midnight, and told him to get
up and ring the bells. 'You shall soon be taught how to shudder!' he
thought, as he crept stealthily up the stairs beforehand.
When the Lad got up into the tower, and turned round to catch hold of
the bell rope, he saw a white figure standing on the steps opposite
the belfry window.
'Who is there?' he cried; but the figure neither moved nor answered.
'Answer,' cried the Lad, 'or get out of the way. You have no business
here in the night.'
But so that the Lad should think he was a ghost, the Sexton did not
stir.
The Lad cried for the second time: 'What do you want here? Speak if
you are an honest fellow, or I'll throw you down the stairs.'
The Sexton did not think he would go to such lengths, so he made no
sound, and stood as still as if he were made of stone.
Then the Lad called to him the third time, and, as he had no answer,
he took a run and threw the ghost down the stairs. It fell down ten
steps, and remained lying in a corner.
Then he rang the bells, went home, and, without saying a word to
anybody, went to bed and was soon fast asleep.
The Sexton's wife waited a long time for her husband, but, as he never
came back, she got frightened, and woke up the Lad.
'Don't you know what has become of my husband?' she asked. 'He went up
into the church tower before you.'
'No,' answered the Lad. 'There was somebody standing on the stairs
opposite the belfry window, and, as he would neither answer me nor go
away, I took him to be a rogue and threw him downstairs. Go and see if
it was your husband; I should be sorry if it were.'
The woman hurried away and found her husband lying in the corner,
moaning, with a broken leg. She carried him down, and then hastened
with loud cries to the Lad's father.
'Your son has brought about a great misfortune; he has thrown my
husband downstairs and broken his leg. Take the good-for-nothing
fellow away, out of our house.'
The Father was horrified, and, going back with her, gave the Lad a
good scolding.
'What is the meaning of this inhuman prank? The evil one must have put
it into your head.'
'Father,' answered the Lad, 'just listen to me. I am quite innocent.
He stood there in the dark, like a man with some wicked design. I did
not know who it was, and I warned him three times to speak, or to go
away!'
'Alas!' said his Father, 'you bring me nothing but disaster. Go away
out of my sight. I will have nothing more to do with you.'
'Gladly, Father. Only wait till daylight; then I will go away, and
learn to shudder. Then, at least, I shall have one art to make my
living by.'
'Learn what you like,' said his Father. 'It's all the same to me. Here
are fifty thalers for you. Go out into the world, and don't tell a
creature where you come from, or who your Father is, for you will only
bring me to shame.'
'Just as you please, Father. If that is all you want, I can easily
fulfil your desire.'
At daybreak, the Lad put his fifty thalers into his pocket, and went
out along the high road, repeating over and over to himself as he
went: 'If only I could shudder, if only I could shudder.'
A Man came by and overheard the words the Lad was saying to himself,
and when they had gone a little further, and came within sight of the
gallows, he said: 'See, there is the tree where those seven have been
wedded to the ropemaker's daughter, and are now learning to fly. Sit
down below them, and when night comes you will soon learn to shudder.'
'If nothing more than that is needed,' said the Lad, 'it is easily
done. And if I learn to shudder as easily as that, you shall have my
fifty thalers. Come back to me early to-morrow morning.'
Then the Lad went up to the gallows, and sat down under them to wait
till night came.
As he was cold he lighted a fire, but at midnight the wind grew so
cold that he did not know how to keep himself warm.
The wind blew the men on the gallows backwards and forwards, and swung
them against each other, so he thought: 'Here am I freezing by the
fire, how much colder they must be up there.'
And as he was very compassionate, he mounted the ladder, undid them,
and brought all seven down one by one.
Then he blew up the fire, and placed them round it to warm themselves.
They sat there and never moved, even when the fire caught their
clothing.
'Take care, or I will hang you all up again.'
The dead men, of course, could not hear, and remained silent while
their few rags were burnt up.
Then he grew angry, and said: 'If you won't take care of yourselves,
I can't help you, and I won't be burnt with you.'
So he hung them all up again in a row, and sat down by the fire and
went to sleep again.
Next morning, the Man, wanting to get his fifty thalers, came to him
and said: 'Now do you know what shuddering means?'
'No,' he said; 'how should I have learnt it? Those fellows up there
never opened their mouths, and they were so stupid that they let the
few poor rags they had about them burn.'
Then the Man saw that no thalers would be his that day, and he went
away, saying: 'Never in my life have I seen such a fellow as this.'
The Lad also went on his way, and again began saying to himself: 'Oh,
if only I could learn to shudder, if only I could learn to shudder.'