Once upon a time there was a very powerful Goblin, who haunted a
little house just outside the gates of a city. Nobody else lived in
this house. There was a big black beam that ran across from one side
to the other, up in the roof; and there this Goblin perched. For
twelve years he had served the King of the Goblins faithfully, and
as a reward he was now permitted to gobble up any man who sneezed
inside that house; and, indeed, that is why these creatures are called
Goblins. But if, when a man sneezed, some one else said, "God bless
you!" as people do say, or "May you live a hundred years!" then the
man who said it was free; and if the other answered, "The same to
you!" he was free too. Everybody but these the Goblin might gobble
up for a single sneeze.
Now it fell out that one day a father and son were travelling along
the road, and they came to the city gates just as the sun went down. I
must tell you that in those days the people used to shut the city
gates fast at sunset, and nothing would make them open again till the
morning--they were horribly afraid of robbers or wild soldiers, who
might come and damage them in the night. So when these two wayfarers
came up to the gates, and wanted to go in, the porter said no.
"Now, do we look like robbers?" asked the father. Certainly they
did not, dusty and grimy with their trudge, and a bag of tools over
the shoulder.
"Robbers or no robbers, orders are orders," said the porter, "and
this gate doesn't open for the King himself."
"Well, what are we to do?" The poor fellow was in despair.
"Oh, there's an empty house outside; there it is among the trees. It
is haunted, they say; but I daresay the Goblin won't hurt you."
"Goblin!--well, we must take our chance, I suppose." Indeed, there was
nothing for it; so to the house they went. They rested, and cooked
a meal for themselves on a fire of sticks, and then prepared to go
to sleep.
The Goblin, however, was not going to let them off so easily;
he wanted his dinner too. After waiting a long time, with never a
sneeze from one or the other, he raised a cloud of fine dust; that
was rather mean of him, but still he was very hungry, and did not
stick at trifles. Sure enough, the father nearly sneezed his head off.
The Goblin chuckled, and made ready to pounce from his perch and
devour the pair of them. But the son happened to see him, and, being
a sharp lad, he guessed the truth. "God bless you, father!" says he;
"may you live a hundred years!"
How the Goblin gnashed his teeth! However, if his pudding was lost,
his meat was left; so he stretched out a great claw to clutch the
father and tear him to pieces.