Prevod

There was once a man who had three sons and owned nothing but the house he lived in. Each of them wanted to have the house after his death, but their father loved them all equally and did not know how to arrange matters without wronging any of them. Nor did he wish to sell the house, for it had belonged to his forefathers; otherwise he would have divided the money among them. At last he thought of a way and said to his sons, ‘Go out into the world and try your fortunes, and let each of you learn a trade. When you return, whichever of you produces the finest masterpiece shall have the house.’

The sons were content with this, and the eldest decided to become a farrier, the second a barber, and the third a fencing master. They agreed on a time when they would all return home, and set off. As it happened, each found a skilled master from whom he learned his trade thoroughly. The farrier had to shoe the king’s horses and thought, ‘Now you cannot fail; the house will be yours.’ The barber shaved none but distinguished gentlemen and likewise believed the house was as good as his already. The fencing master took many a blow, but gritted his teeth and would not be discouraged, for he thought to himself, ‘If you are afraid of a blow, you will never get the house.’ When the appointed time had passed, they all met again at their father’s house. But they did not know how best to find an opportunity to show their skill, and sat together discussing it. As they sat there, a hare suddenly came running across the field. ‘Ah,’ said the barber, ‘he comes just when I need him.’ He took his basin and soap and worked up a lather until the hare drew near. Then he soaped him as he ran at full speed and, still without stopping him, shaved him a neat little beard, without cutting him or harming a single hair. ‘I like that,’ said the father. ‘Unless the others make a mighty effort, the house is yours.’ Before long, a gentleman came racing past in a carriage at full gallop. ‘Now, Father, you shall see what I can do,’ said the farrier. He sprang after the carriage, pulled all four shoes off one of the horses as it galloped on, and fitted it with four new ones without its breaking stride. ‘You are a fine fellow,’ said the father. ‘You do your work as well as your brother. I do not know which of you should have the house.’ Then the third son said, ‘Father, let me have my turn too.’ As it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword and swung it in crossing strokes above his head, so that not a drop fell on him. And as the rain grew heavier, until at last it seemed as though great troughs of water were being emptied from the sky, he swung his sword faster and faster and stayed as dry as if he were sitting safe under a roof. When the father saw this, he marvelled and said, ‘You have performed the finest masterpiece. The house is yours.’

The other two brothers accepted this, as they had promised beforehand, and because they loved one another so dearly, all three stayed together in the house and practised their trades. Since they had learned so thoroughly and were so skilful, they earned a great deal of money. So they lived happily together into old age, and when one of them fell ill and died, the other two grieved so deeply that they too fell ill and soon died. Then, because they had been so skilful and had loved one another so dearly, all three were laid together in one grave.