mud/content/library/grimm/164_lazy_harry.txt

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Lazy Harry
Harry was lazy, and although he had nothing else to do but drive his
goat daily to pasture, he nevertheless groaned when he went home after
his days work was done. “It is indeed a heavy burden,” said he, “and a
wearisome employment to drive a goat into the field this way year after
year, till late into the autumn! If one could but lie down and sleep,
but no, one must have ones eyes open lest it hurts the young trees, or
squeezes itself through the hedge into a garden, or runs away
altogether. How can one have any rest, or peace of ones life?” He
seated himself, collected his thoughts, and considered how he could set
his shoulders free from this burden. For a long time all thinking was
to no purpose, but suddenly it was as if scales fell from his eyes. “I
know what I will do,” he cried, “I will marry fat Trina who has also a
goat, and can take mine out with hers, and then I shall have no more
need to trouble myself.”
So Harry got up, set his weary legs in motion, and went right across
the street, for it was no farther, to where the parents of fat Trina
lived, and asked for their industrious and virtuous daughter in
marriage. The parents did not reflect long. “Birds of a feather, flock
together,” they thought, and consented.
So fat Trina became Harrys wife, and led out both the goats. Harry had
a good time of it, and had no work that he required to rest from but
his own idleness. He only went out with her now and then, and said, “I
merely do it that I may afterwards enjoy rest more, otherwise one loses
all feeling for it.”
But fat Trina was no less idle. “Dear Harry,” said she one day, “why
should we make our lives so toilsome when there is no need for it, and
thus ruin the best days of our youth? Would it not be better for us to
give the two goats which disturb us every morning in our sweetest sleep
with their bleating, to our neighbor, and he will give us a beehive for
them. We will put the beehive in a sunny place behind the house, and
trouble ourselves no more about it. Bees do not require to be taken
care of, or driven into the field; they fly out and find the way home
again for themselves, and collect honey without giving the very least
trouble.” “Thou hast spoken like a sensible woman,” replied Harry. “We
will carry out thy proposal without delay, and besides all that, honey
tastes better and nourishes one better than goats milk, and it can be
kept longer too.”
The neighbor willingly gave a beehive for the two goats. The bees flew
in and out from early morning till late evening without ever tiring,
and filled the hive with the most beautiful honey, so that in autumn
Harry was able to take a whole pitcherful out of it.
They placed the jug on a board which was fixed to the wall of their
bed-room, and as they were afraid that it might be stolen from them, or
that the mice might find it, Trina brought in a stout hazel-stick and
put it beside her bed, so that without unnecessary getting up she might
reach it with her hand, and drive away the uninvited guests. Lazy Harry
did not like to leave his bed before noon. “He who rises early,” said
he, “wastes his substance.”
One morning when he was still lying amongst the feathers in broad
daylight, resting after his long sleep, he said to his wife, “Women are
fond of sweet things, and thou art always tasting the honey in private;
it will be better for us to exchange it for a goose with a young
gosling, before thou eatest up the whole of it.” “But,” answered Trina,
“not before we have a child to take care of them! Am I to worry myself
with the little geese, and spend all my strength on them to no
purpose.” “Dost thou think,” said Harry, “that the youngster will look
after geese? Now-a-days children no longer obey, they do according to
their own fancy, because they consider themselves cleverer than their
parents, just like that lad who was sent to seek the cow and chased
three blackbirds.” “Oh,” replied Trina, “this one shall fare badly if
he does not do what I say! I will take a stick and belabour his skin
for him with more blows than I can count. Look, Harry,” cried she in
her zeal, and seized the stick which she had to drive the mice away
with, “Look, this is the way I will fall on him!” She reached her arm
out to strike, but unhappily hit the honey-pitcher above the bed. The
pitcher struck against the wall and fell down in fragments, and the
fine honey streamed down on the ground. “There lie the goose and the
young gosling,” said Harry, “and want no looking after. But it is lucky
that the pitcher did not fall on my head. We have all reason to be
satisfied with our lot.” And then as he saw that there was still some
honey in one of the fragments he stretched out his hand for it, and
said quite gaily, “The remains, my wife, we will still eat with a
relish, and we will rest a little after the fright we have had. What
matters if we do get up a little later the day is always long enough.”
“Yes,” answered Trina, “we shall always get to the end of it at the
proper time. Dost thou know that the snail was once asked to a wedding
and set out to go, but arrived at the christening. In front of the
house it fell over the fence, and said, Speed does no good.’”