Little Claus and Big Claus
Look! There's a big hole in her forehead."
"Oh, what a calamity!" The innkeeper wrung his hands. "And all because of my fiery temper. Dear Little Claus, I'll give you a bushel of money, and I'll bury your grandmother as if she were my very own. But you must hush this thing up for me, or they'll chop off my head-how I'd hate it."
So it came about that Little Claus got another bushel of money, and the landlord buried the old grandmother as if she'd been his own.
Just as soon as Little Claus got home, he sent a boy to borrow a bushel measure from Big Claus.
"Little Claus wants to borrow it?" Big Claus asked. "Didn't I kill him? I'll go and see about that." So he himself took the measure over to Little Claus.
"Where did you get all that money?" he asked when he saw the height of the money pile.
"When you killed my grandmother instead of me," Little Claus told him, "I sold her for a bushel of money,"
"Heavens above! That was indeed a good price," said Big Claus. He hurried home, took an ax, and knocked his old grandmother on the head. Then he put her in a cart, drove off to town, and asked the apothecary if he wanted to buy a dead body.
"Whose dead body?" asked the apothecary. "Where'd you get it?"
"It's my grandmother's dead body. I killed her for a bushel of money," Big Claus told him.
"Lord," said the apothecary. "Man, you must be crazy. Don't talk like that or they'll chop off your head." Then he told him straight he had done a wicked deed, that he was a terrible fellow, and that the worst of punishments was much too good for him. Big Claus got frightened. He jumped in his cart, whipped up the horses, and drove home as fast as they would take him. The apothecary and everyone else thought he must be a madman, so they didn't stand in his way.
"I'll see that you pay for this," said Big Claus when he reached the highroad. "Oh, won't I make you pay for this, Little Claus!" The moment he got home he took the biggest sack he could find, went to see Little Claus, and said:
"You've deceived me again.
The Story of the Three Calenders, Sons of Kings, and of Five Ladies of Bagdad
Category: Arabic folktales
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