Speaker 1: There were, in very ancient times two brothers, one of
whom was rich and the other poor. Christmas was approaching,
but the poor man had nothing in the house for
a Christmas dinner, so he went to his brother and
asked him for a trifling gift. The rich man was
ill natured, and when he heard his brother's request, he
looked very surly. But as Christmas is a time when
even the worst people give gifts, he took a fine
ham down from the chimney where it was hanging to smoke,
threw it at his brother, and bade him begone and
never show his face again. The poor man thanked his
brother for the ham, put it under his arm, and
went his way. He had to pass through a great
forest on his way home, and when he reached the
thickest part of it, he saw an old man with
a long white beard, hewing timber. Good evening, said the
poor man. Good evening returned the old man, raising himself
from his work, and looking at him. That is a
fine ham you are carrying. On. Hearing this, the poor
man told him all about the ham and how it
was obtained. It is lucky for you, says the old man,
that you have met with me. If you will take
that ham into the land of the Dwarfs, the entrance
to which lies just under the roots of this tree,
you can make a capital bargain with it, for the
dwarfs are very fond of ham and rarely get any.
But mind what I say. You must not sell it
for money, but demand for it the old hand mill,
which stands behind the door. When you come back, I'll
show you how to use it. The poor man thanked
his new friend, who showed him a door under the
stone below the roots of the tree. And by this
door he entered the land of the Dwarfs. No sooner
had he set foot in it than the dwarfs swarmed
about him, attracted by the smell of the ham. They
offered him queer old fashioned money and gold and silver
off for it, but he refused all their tempting offers
and said that he would sell it only for the
old hand mill behind the door. At this the dwarfs
held up their little old hands and looked quite perplexed.
We cannot make a bargain, it seems, said the poor man,
So I'll bid you all good day. The fragrance of
the ham had by this time reached the remote parts
of the land. The dwarfs came flocking around in little troops,
leaving their work of digging out precious oars. Eager for
the ham. Let him have the old mill, said some
of the newcomers. It is quite out of order, and
he does not know how to use it. Let him
have it, and we will have the ham. So the
bargain was made. The poor man took the old hand mill,
which was a little thing, not half so large as
the ham, and went back to the woods. Here the
old man showed him how to use it. All this
had taken up a great deal of time, and it
was midnight before he reached home. Where in the world
have you been, said his wife. Here I have been
waiting and waiting, and we have no wood to make
a fire, nor anything to put in the porridge pop
for a Christmas supper. The house was dark and cold,
but the poor man bade his wife wait and see
what would happen. He placed the little handmill on the
table and began to turn the crank. First out there
came some grand lighted wax candles, and a fire on
the hearth, and a porridge pot boiling over it. Because
in his mind, he said they should come first. Then
he ground out a tablecloth and dishes, and spoons, and knives,
and forks and napkins. He was himself astonished at his
good luck, as you may believe, and his wife was
almost beside herself with joy and astonishment. Well, they had
a capital supper, and after it was eaten, they ground
out of the mill every possible thing to make their
house and themselves warm and comfortable. So they had a
merry Christmas even morning, made merrier by the thought that
they need never want again. When the people went by
the house to the church the next day, they could
hardly believe their eyes. There was glass in the windows,
in seas of wooden shutters, and the poor man and
his wife, dressed in new clothes, were seen devoutly kneeling
in the church. There's something very strange in all this,
said everyone. Something very strange. Indeed, said the rich man
when three days afterwards he received an invitation from his
once poor brother to a grand feast. And what a
feast it was. The table was covered with a cloth
as white as snow, and the dishes were all of
silver or gold. The rich man could not in his
great house, and with all his wealth, set out such
a table or serve such food. Where did you get
all these things? Exclaimed he His brother told him all
about the bargain he had made with the dwarfs, and,
putting the mill on the table, ground out boots and shoes,
coats and cloaks, stockings, gowns and blankets, and bade his
wife give them to the poor people that had gathered
about the house to get a sight of the grand
feast the poor brother had made for the rich one,
and to sniff the delightful odors that came from the
The rich man was very envious of his brother's good
fortune and wanted to borrow the mill, intending for he
was not an honest man, never to return it again.
His brother would not lend it, for the old man
with the white beard had told him never to sell
or lend it to any one, no matter what inducements
might be offered. Some years went by, and at last
the possessor of the mill built himself a grand castle
on a rock by the sea, facing west. Its windows,
reflecting the golden sunset, could be seen far out from
the shore, and it became a noted landmark for sailors
strangers from foreign parts often came to see this castle
and the wonderful mill, of which the most extraordinary tales
were told. At length. A great foreign merchant came, and,
when he had seen the mill, inquired whether it would
grind salt. Being told that it would, he wanted to
buy it, for he traded in salt, and thought that
if he owned the mill, he could to bly all
his customers without taking long and dangerous voyages. The man
would not sell it, of course. He was so rich
now that he did not want to use it for himself.
But every Christmas he ground out food and clothes and
coal for the poor, and nice presents for the little children.
So he rejected all the offers of the rich merchant, who, however,
determined to have it. He bribed one of the man's
servants to let him go into the castle at night,
and he stole the mill and sailed away in triumph,
feeling certain that his fortune was made. He had scarcely
got out to sea before he determined to set the
mill to work. Now, mill grind salt, said, he grind salt.
With all your might, salt salt, and nothing but salt.
The mill began to grind, and the sailors to fill
the sax, but these were soon full, and in spite
of all that could be done, it began to fill
the ship. The dishonest merchant was now very much frightened
what was to be done. The mill would not stop grinding,
and at last the ship was overloaded, and down it went,
making a great whirlpool where it sank. The ship went
to pieces. But the mill stands on the bottom of
the sea and keeps grinding out salt, salt, nothing but salt.
That is the reason, say the peasants of Denmark and Norway,
why the sea is salt.