Many and many a year ago there was a cottage by the sea, and in this
cottage lived a fisherman who caught fish in the sea. By the king's
command he was allowed to take fish, not when he liked, but only once
a week, and that on Mondays. He was anxious, therefore, to catch many
on that day. Fish, of course, are not so crafty as men, but still they
know enough to see that there is no fun in being caught. What is to be
done with them afterwards they don't know; still, they must suspect
that it can hardly be for their amusement. It is no wonder then that
they did not crowd into the fisherman's net.
The fisherman worked every Monday till the sweat streamed down his
face; and this all the more, since, come what might, he was obliged to
bring fish to the king's kitchen each Monday. Once he worked the whole
forenoon without catching even a white fish. "I will try once more,"
thought the tired fisherman; "I will throw everything into the water,
and jump around to frighten the fish, they are so stubborn."
He threw the net deeply, and when he pulled it was very heavy. "Now
there will be fish," thought he, joyfully; but what was his
astonishment when, instead of fish, he drew out a great copper kettle.
The kettle was so well fastened that the fisherman had to work long
before he could take off the cover. But how he was frightened!
Scarcely had he removed the cover when out of the kettle rushed black
smoke, which grew thicker and thicker, till at last it changed to a
fiery man.
"Thou hast helped me, and I will help thee," said he to the terrified
fisherman; "but in my own way I will destroy thee."
The fisherman lost his head, but soon recovering said: "Oh, I don't
care, I am already tired of this world; still thou must do something
for me, since I freed thee. I can't understand how thou wert able to
live in such a small place, and under the water too, and then change
so quickly."
"I'll show thee in a moment," said the fiery man; and he began to turn
into black smoke, and in no long time he was packed into the kettle
again.
"Dost see me?" inquired he of the fisherman.
"I see thee," answered the fisherman, laughing; "I see thee, but
thou'lt not see me any more."
The cover was already on the kettle and fastened firmly. The fiery man
by no means expected to find such cunning among people, and
considering his condition in the kettle, began to beg of the
fisherman: "Let me out and I will reward thee."
"Swear that thou wilt never destroy me," said the fisherman.