They would then
have given thee meat and drink." Again he went to the village, and met a
marriage procession. So he took off his bonnet, and cried with all his
might, "God grant peace to his soul!" and then burst into tears. "What
brute is this?" said the wedding company. "We laugh and amuse ourselves,
and he laments as if he were at a funeral." So they leaped out of the
carriages, and beat him soundly on the ribs. Home he returned, crying,
"They've beaten me, thrashed me, and torn my beard and hair!" and
related what had happened. "My son," said his mother, "thou shouldst
have leaped and danced with them." The next time he went to the village
he took his bagpipe under his arm. At the end of the street a cart-shed
was on fire. The noodle ran to the spot, and began to play on his
bagpipe and to dance and caper about, for which he was abused as before.
Going back to his mother in tears, he told her how he had fared. "My
son," said she, "thou shouldst have carried water and thrown it on the
fire, like the other folks." Three days later, when his ribs were well
again, the noodle went through the village once more, and seeing a man
roasting a little pig, he seized a vessel of water, ran up with it, and
threw the water on the fire. This time also he was beaten, and when he
got home, and told his mother of his ill-luck, she resolved never again
to allow him to go abroad; so he remains by the fireside, as great a
fool as ever.
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