A tailor and a goldsmith were travelling together, and one evening when
the sun had sunk behind the mountains, they heard the sound of distant
music, which became more and more distinct. It sounded strange, but so
pleasant that they forgot all their weariness and stepped quickly
onwards. The moon had already arisen when they reached a hill on which
they saw a crowd of little men and women, who had taken each other’s
hands, and were whirling round in the dance with the greatest pleasure
and delight.
They sang to it most charmingly, and that was the music which the
travellers had heard. In the midst of them sat an old man who was
rather taller than the rest. He wore a parti-coloured coat, and his
iron-grey beard hung down over his breast. The two remained standing
full of astonishment, and watched the dance. The old man made a sign
that they should enter, and the little folks willingly opened their
circle. The goldsmith, who had a hump, and like all hunchbacks was
brave enough, stepped in; the tailor felt a little afraid at first, and
held back, but when he saw how merrily all was going, he plucked up his
courage, and followed. The circle closed again directly, and the little
folks went on singing and dancing with the wildest leaps. The old man,
however, took a large knife which hung to his girdle, whetted it, and
when it was sufficiently sharpened, he looked round at the strangers.
They were terrified, but they had not much time for reflection, for the
old man seized the goldsmith and with the greatest speed, shaved the
hair of his head clean off, and then the same thing happened to the
tailor. But their fear left them when, after he had finished his work,
the old man clapped them both on the shoulder in a friendly manner, as
much as to say, they had behaved well to let all that be done to them
willingly, and without any struggle. He pointed with his finger to a
heap of coals which lay at one side, and signified to the travellers by
his gestures that they were to fill their pockets with them. Both of
them obeyed, although they did not know of what use the coals would be
to them, and then they went on their way to seek a shelter for the
night. When they had got into the valley, the clock of the neighbouring
monastery struck twelve, and the song ceased. In a moment all had
vanished, and the hill lay in solitude in the moonlight.
The two travellers found an inn, and covered themselves up on their
straw-beds with their coats, but in their weariness forgot to take the
coals out of them before doing so. A heavy weight on their limbs
awakened them earlier than usual. They felt in the pockets, and could
not believe their eyes when they saw that they were not filled with
coals, but with pure gold; happily, too, the hair of their heads and
beards was there again as thick as ever.
They had now become rich folks, but the goldsmith, who, in accordance
with his greedy disposition, had filled his pockets better, was as rich
again as the tailor. A greedy man, even if he has much, still wishes to
have more, so the goldsmith proposed to the tailor that they should
wait another day, and go out again in the evening in order to bring
back still greater treasures from the old man on the hill. The tailor
refused, and said, “I have enough and am content; now I shall be a
master, and marry my dear object (for so he called his sweetheart), and
I am a happy man.” But he stayed another day to please him. In the
evening the goldsmith hung a couple of bags over his shoulders that he
might be able to stow away a great deal, and took the road to the hill.
He found, as on the night before, the little folks at their singing and
dancing, and the old man again shaved him clean, and signed to him to
take some coal away with him. He was not slow about sticking as much
into his bags as would go, went back quite delighted, and covered
himself over with his coat. “Even if the gold does weigh heavily,” said
he, “I will gladly bear that,” and at last he fell asleep with the
sweet anticipation of waking in the morning an enormously rich man.
When he opened his eyes, he got up in haste to examine his pockets, but
how amazed he was when he drew nothing out of them but black coals, and
that howsoever often he put his hands in them. “The gold I got the
night before is still there for me,” thought he, and went and brought
it out, but how shocked he was when he saw that it likewise had again
turned into coal. He smote his forehead with his dusty black hand, and
then he felt that his whole head was bald and smooth, as was also the
place where his beard should have been. But his misfortunes were not
yet over; he now remarked for the first time that in addition to the
hump on his back, a second, just as large, had grown in front on his
breast. Then he recognized the punishment of his greediness, and began
to weep aloud. The good tailor, who was wakened by this, comforted the
unhappy fellow as well as he could, and said, “Thou hast been my
comrade in my travelling time; thou shalt stay with me and share in my
wealth.” He kept his word, but the poor goldsmith was obliged to carry
the two humps as long as he lived, and to cover his bald head with a
cap.