Waltey

Prevod

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there were two brothers, one rich and the other poor. When Christmas Eve came, the poor brother had not a scrap of meat or bread in the house, so he went to his brother and begged him, in God’s name, for a little something for Christmas. It was hardly the first time his brother had had to give him something, and he was none too pleased to see him now, either. “If you’ll do what I ask, you shall have a whole ham,” he said. The poor man promised at once and thanked him. “There you are, then. Now go straight to Hell!” said the rich man, tossing him the ham. “Well, I must keep my promise,” said the other. He took the ham and set off;

he walked and walked all day, and at dusk he came to a place where a bright light shone. This must be it, thought the man with the ham. Outside in the woodshed stood an old man with a long white beard, chopping firewood for Christmas. “Good evening!” said the man with the ham. “Good evening to you! Where are you going so late?” said the old man. “I’m bound for Hell, if I’m on the right road,” answered the poor man. “Yes, you’ve come the right way. This is the place,” said the old man. “When you go inside, they’ll all want to buy your ham, for pork is a rare treat in Hell. But don’t sell it unless they give you the hand-mill standing behind the door in exchange.

“When you come out again, I’ll teach you how to stop the mill. It’s useful for all manner of things.” The man with the ham thanked him for his good advice and knocked at the Devil’s door.

Once he was inside, everything happened just as the old man had said: all the devils, great and small, swarmed round him like ants round a worm, each outbidding the next for the ham.

“Well, my wife and I were to have had it for our Christmas Eve supper, but since you’re so set on it, I suppose I must let you have it,” said the man. “But if I sell it, I want that hand-mill standing behind the door over there.” The Devil was loath to part with it, and bargained and haggled with the man, but he stood firm, and at last the Devil had to hand it over. When the man came out into the yard, he asked the old woodcutter how to stop the mill. Once he had learned, he thanked him and set off home as fast as he could; even so, he did not reach home until the clock struck twelve on Christmas night.

“Where in the world have you been?” said his wife. “Here I’ve sat hour after hour, longing and waiting, without so much as two sticks to lay crosswise beneath the Christmas porridge pot.” “Oh, I couldn’t get here any sooner. I had all sorts of things to see to, and a long way to go besides.

“But now, just you watch,” said the man. He set the mill on the table and told it to grind first candles, then a tablecloth, then food and ale and everything good for a Christmas Eve feast; and whatever he commanded, the mill ground out. His wife crossed herself again and again and wanted to know where he had got the mill, but he would not tell her. “Never mind where I got it. You can see it’s a good mill, and its millstream never freezes,” said the man. Then he ground out food and drink and all good things for the whole Christmas season, and on the third day of Christmas he invited his friends over, for he meant to give a feast.

When the rich brother saw all there was in the house where the feast was held, he was beside himself with anger, for he begrudged his brother every good thing. “On Christmas Eve he was so hard up that he came begging me for a little something in God’s name, and now he gives a feast as though he were a count or a king,” he said to the others. “But where in blazing Hell did you get all your riches?” he asked his brother. “Behind the door,” said the owner of the mill, for he had no wish to give him an account of it. But later that evening, when he had had a little too much to drink, he could no longer keep it to himself and brought out the mill. “There you see what has brought me all my riches,” he said, and he made the mill grind out one thing after another. When his brother saw this, he was determined to have the mill, and at long last the man agreed to let him have it, but he must pay three hundred dollars, and the man was to keep it until haymaking time; for, he thought, if I have it that long, I can grind enough food to last for years. You may be sure the mill did not stand idle all that time, and when haymaking came, his brother got it; but the other had taken good care not to teach him how to stop it.

It was in the evening that the rich man brought the mill home, and next morning he told his wife to go out and spread the hay behind the mowers. He would prepare the midday meal himself that day, he said.

When it was nearly mealtime, he set the mill on the kitchen table. “Grind herrings and gruel, and be quick and good about it!” said the man, and the mill began grinding herrings and gruel, filling all the dishes and troughs first, then spilling out over the whole kitchen floor.

The man fiddled and fumbled, trying to stop the mill, but however he turned and tinkered with it, the mill kept grinding, and before long the gruel rose so high that he was in danger of drowning. Then he flung open the door to the living room, but it was not long before the mill had filled that room too, and he only just managed to find the door latch beneath the flood of gruel.

Once he got the door open, he did not linger indoors. Out he dashed, with herrings and gruel pouring after him, flooding the yard and fields.

Meanwhile his wife, who was out spreading hay, thought the meal was taking far too long. “Even if my husband doesn’t call us home, we’d better go all the same. He can’t be much of a hand at making gruel. I suppose I’ll have to help him,” she said to the haymakers. So they began straggling home, but when they had come some way up the hills, they met herrings and gruel and bread rushing and tumbling over one another, with the man himself running ahead of the flood. “God grant you had a hundred bellies apiece, but take care you don’t drown in your dinner!” he shouted, racing past them as though the Evil One were at his heels, and down towards his brother’s house. He begged him, for God’s sake, to take the mill back, and that very instant;

“If it grinds for another hour, the whole district will perish in herrings and gruel,” he said. But his brother would not take it back until he paid him another three hundred dollars, and so he had to pay. Now the poor man had both the money and the mill, and before long he built himself a house far finer than the one his brother lived in. With the mill he ground out so much gold that he covered the house entirely in gold plates, and it stood so close to the shore that it shone and glittered far out across the sea. Everyone who sailed past had to put in and visit the rich man in the golden house, and they all wanted to see the marvellous mill, for word of it had spread far and wide, and there was no one who had not heard tell of it.

At last a sea captain came who also wanted to see the mill. He asked whether it could grind salt. “Oh yes, it can grind salt!” said its owner, and when the captain heard that, he was determined to have the mill, whatever it might cost; for if he had it, he thought, he would no longer have to sail far away across dangerous seas for a cargo of salt.

At first the man would not part with it, but the captain begged and pleaded, and in the end he sold it for many, many thousands of dollars. Once the captain had the mill on his back, he did not linger, for he was afraid the man might change his mind. As for asking how to stop it, he had no time for that at all. He hurried down to his ship as fast as he could, and when he was some way out to sea, he brought out the mill. “Grind salt, and be quick and good about it!” said the captain. And the mill began grinding salt till it flew in all directions. When the captain had filled the ship, he wanted to stop the mill, but whatever he did, however he tinkered with it, the mill ground on just as fast, and the heap of salt grew higher and higher, until at last the ship sank. There the mill stands on the bottom of the sea, grinding to this very day, and that is why the sea is salt.

Izvirnik

Engang i gamle, gamle Dage var der to Brødre, den Ene var rig og den Anden fattig. Da Julekvelden kom, havde den Fattige ikke en Smule i Huset hverken af Suul eller Brød, og saa gik han til Broder sin og bad ham om Lidt til Juul i Guds Navn. Det var vel ikke første Gangen, Broderen havde maattet give ham, og ikke blev han synderlig glad i ham nu heller. „Vil du gjøre det, jeg beder dig, skal du faae en heel Fleskeskinke,“ sagde han. Det lovede den Fattige strax og takkede til. „Der har du den, gaa saa lige til Helvede!“ sagde den Rige og kastede Fleskeskinken bort til ham. „Ja det, jeg har lovet, faaer jeg holde,“ sagde den Anden, han tog Skinken og lagde afsted; han gik og han gik hele Dagen, og i Mørkningen kom han et

Sted, hvor det lyste saa gjildt. Her skal du see, det er, tænkte Manden med Skinken. Ude i Vedskjulet stod en gammel Mand med et langt, hvidt Skjæg, og hug Juleved. „God Kveld!“ sagde han med Fleskeskinken. „God Kveld igjen! Hvor skal du hen saa seent?“ sagde Manden. „Jeg skal nok til Helvede, dersom jeg er paa ret Vei,“ svarede den Fattige. „Jo, du er gaaet rigtigt nok, det er her,“ sagde den gamle Manden. „Naar du nu kommer ind, vil de Alle kjøbe Fleskeskinken din, for Flesk er en sjelden Mad i Helvede; men du skal ikke sælge den, med mindre du faaer den Haandkværn, som staaer bag Døren, for den.

Naar du saa kommer ud igjen, skal jeg lære dig at stille Kværnen, den er nyttig til Noget af Hvert den.“ Ja, han med Skinken takkede for god Underretning og bankede paa hos Fanden. Da han kom ind, gik det som den gamle Mand havde sagt: alle Djævlene, baade store og smaa, stimlede om ham som Myrer om en Mark, og den Ene bød den Anden over paa Fleskeskinken. „Rigtignok skulde Kjærringen og jeg havt den til Julekveldsmad, men siden I ere saa forhipne paa den, faaer jeg vel sagtens overlade den,“ sagde Manden. „Men skal jeg sælge den, vil jeg have den Haandkværnen, som staaer bag Døren derborte.“ Den vilde Fanden nødig være af med, og tingede og prutede med Manden, men han blev ved Sit, og saa maatte Fanden ud med den. Da Manden kom ud i Gaarden, spurgte

han den gamle Vedhuggeren, hvorledes han skulde stille Kværnen, og da han havde lært det, sagde han Tak for sig og lagde hjemover, det forteste han kunde; men alligevel kom han ikke hjem, før Klokken slog Tolv om Julenatten. „Men hvor i al Verden bliver der af dig da?“ sagde Kjærringen. „Her har jeg siddet Time ud og Time ind og hipet og ventet, og har ikke saa Meget som to Pinder at lægge i Kors under Julegrødsgryden.“ „Aa jeg kunde ikke før komme, jeg havde Noget af Hvert at gaae efter, og lang Vei havde jeg ogsaa.

Men nu skal du see,“ sagde Manden, han satte Kværnen paa Bordet og bad den først male Lys, saa Dug, og saa Mad og Øl og Alt som godt var til Julekveldskost, og efter som han befalede den, saa malte Kværnen. Kjærringen forkorsede sig den ene Gang efter den anden og vilde vide, hvor Manden havde faaet Kværnen fra, men det vilde han ikke ud med; „det faaer være det samme, hvor jeg har faaet den, du seer, Kværnen er god og Kværnvandet ikke fryser,“ sagde Manden. Saa malte han Mad og Drikke og alle gode Ting til hele Julen, og Trediedag bad han til sig sine Venner, da vilde han have Gjestebud.

Da den rige Broderen saa alt det, der var i Gjestebudsgaarden, blev han baade harm og vild, for han kunde ikke unde Broder sin Noget. „Om Julekvelden var han saa nødig, at han kom til mig og bad om Lidt i Guds Navn, og nu gjør han et Lag som han skulde være baade Greve og Konge,“ sagde han til de Andre. — „Men hvor i hede Helvede har du faaet al Rigdommen din fra, du?" sagde han til Broderen. „Bag Døren,“ sagde han som eiede Kværnen, han brød sig ikke om at gjøre ham noget Regnskab for det, han; men ud paa Kvelden, da han havde faaet lidt i Hovedet, kunde han ikke bare sig, da kom han frem med Kværnen. „Der seer du den, som har skaffet mig al Rigdommen,“ sagde han, og saa lod han Kværnen male baade det Ene og det Andet. Da Broderen saa det, vilde

han endelig have Kværnen, og langt om længe skulde han da ogsaa faae den, men tre hundrede Daler maatte han give for den, og saa skulde Manden beholde den til Slaataannen; for har jeg havt den saa længe, kan jeg have malet op Mad for mange Aar, tænkte han. I den Tid kan En nok vide, Kværnen ikke blev rusten, og da Slaataannen kom, fik Broderen den; men den Anden havde vel vogtet sig for at lære ham at stille den.

Det var om Kvelden at den Rige, fik Kværnen hjem til sig, og om Morgenen bad han Kjærringen gaae ud og brede efter Slaattekarlene, han skulde selv lave til Dagverden idag, sagde han. Da det saa led mod Dagverdstid, satte han Kværnen paa Kjøkkenbordet. „Mal Sild og Velling, og det baade fort og vel!“ sagde Manden, og Kværnen til at male Sild og Velling, først alle Fade og Truge fulde og siden ud over hele Kjøkkengulvet.

Manden fiklede og stelte og skulde faae Kværnen til at standse, men hvordan han dreiede og fingrede paa den, saa holdt Kværnen paa, og om Lidt naaede Vellingen saa høit, at Manden var paa at drukne. Saa rev han op Stuedøren, men det varede ikke længe, før Kværnen havde malet fuld Stuen ogsaa, og det var med Nød og Neppe at Manden fik fat i Dørklinken nede i Vellingflommen.

Da han nu fik Døren op, blev han ikke længe i Stuen; han satte ud, og Sild og Velling efter ham, saa det fossede udover baade Gaard og Jorder. Nu syntes Kjærringen, som var ude og bredte Hø, det tog for lang Tid, førend Dagverden blev færdig. „Om ikke Manden raaber hjem, faaer vi gaae ligevel; han kan vel ikke stort med at koge Vellingen, jeg faaer vel hjælpe ham,“ sagde Konen til Slaattefolkene. Ja, de begyndte at rangle hjemefter, men da de kom opover Bakkerne et Stykke, mødte de Sild og Velling og Brød, foer og slang om hverandre, og Manden selv fore Flommen. „Gud give der var hundrede Vomme paa Hver af Jer, men pas Jer at I ikke drukne i Dagverdsvellingen,“ skreg Manden, han satte forbi dem, som den Slemme var i Hælene

paa ham og nedover did hvor Broderen boede. Ham bad han for Guds Skyld tage igjen Kværnen, og det paa Øieblikket; „maler den en Time til, saa forgaaer hele Bygden af Sild og Velling,“ sagde han. Men Broderen vilde slet ikke tage den, før den Anden betalte ham tre hundrede Daler til, og det maatte han da. Nu havde den Fattige baade Penge og Kværn, og saa varede det ikke længe for han fik sig op en Gaard, meget gjildere end den, Broderen boede i; med Kværnen malte han op saa meget Guld, at han klædte den med bare Guldplader, og den Gaarden laa tæt ved Havkanten, saa det lyste og glindsede i den langt ud over Søen. Alle de som seilede der forbi, skulde nu indom og besøge den rige Mand i Guldgaarden, og Alle saa

vilde de see den forunderlige Kværnen, for den gik der Ord af baade vidt og bredt, og der var Ingen, uden han havde hørt tale om den. Langt om længe kom der ogsaa en Skipper, som vilde see Kværnen; han spurgte, om den kunde male Salt. „Jo, den kan male Salt da!“ sagde han, som eiede den, og da Skipperen hørte det, vilde han med Nød og Magt have Kværnen, den maatte koste hvad den vilde; for havde han den, tænkte han, saa slap han at seile langt bort over farlige Vande efter Saltladningen.

I Førstningen vilde Manden ikke være af med den, men Skipperen baade tiggede og bad, og tilsidst solgte han den og fik mange, mange tusend Daler for den. Da Skipperen havde faaet Kværnen paa Ryggen, standsede han ikke længe der, for han var ræd, Manden skulde betænke sig; at spørge hvorledes han skulde stille den, havde han nu slet ikke Tid til, han satte ned paa Skibet det forteste han kunde, og da han kom et Stykke ud paa Søen, fik han Kværnen op. „Mal Salt, og det baade fort og vel!“ sagde Skipperen. Ja, Kværnen til at male Salt, og det saa det sprutede; da Skipperen havde faaet Skibet fuldt, vilde han standse Kværnen, men hvordan han bar sig ad, og hvorledes han stelte paa den, saa malte Kværnen lige fort, og Salthaugen

voxte høiere og høiere, og tilsidst saa sank Skibet. Der staaer Kværnen paa Havsens Bund og maler den Dag i Dag er, og derfor er det, at Søen er salt.

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