Yiddish Folktales

by Beatrice Weinreich

  The first two leaseholders—the one who had the forest and the one who had the mill—didn’t take long to think the questions through. Both concluded that the fastest thing in the world was the nobleman’s horse; the fattest thing in the world was his pig; and the dearest thing in the world would undoubtedly be the woman he marries. And they were satisfied with their answers. But the poor innkeeper returned home in great perplexity because he had no idea what to say.

  Now, the innkeeper had a beautiful and talented daughter who asked, “What makes you look so worried, Father?” He told her about the nobleman’s questions and said, “How can I help looking worried? I have no idea what the answers are.” “There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “They’re simple enough: Thought is the fastest thing in the world; the earth is the fattest; and sleep is the dearest thing of all.”

  At the end of the third day, all three leaseholders appeared before the nobleman. He immediately dismissed the first two from his estate because their answers were wrong. Turning to the innkeeper, he said, “I like your answers very much, but I know they didn’t come out of your own head. Tell me the truth: who told you what to say?”

  The innkeeper confessed that his daughter had given him the answers.

  The nobleman said, “If you have a daughter that clever, I want to see her. Let her come to me three days from now. But I want her to come neither walking nor riding, neither dressed nor naked. And I want her to bring a gift that is not a gift.”

  The innkeeper returned home more downcast than before. His daughter said, “Now what’s wrong, Father? What makes you look so worried?” So he told her what conditions the nobleman had imposed. “Never mind,” said she. “There’s nothing to worry about. Now, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to buy a fisherman’s net, a goat, a pair of doves, and a couple of pounds of meat.”

  And he bought all the things she asked for.

  Then she stripped and wrapped herself in the net, so that she was neither dressed nor naked; she mounted the goat and of course her feet dragged, so that as she went along, she was neither riding nor walking. She carried the doves in one hand and the meat in the other, and in that fashion she made her way into the nobleman’s courtyard.

  When the nobleman, who was watching from his window, saw her enter, he unleashed his dogs. But she threw them the meat and walked calmly past them into the house, where she said to the nobleman, “I’ve brought you a gift that is not a gift.” And she released the doves, who immediately flew out of the open window.

  “I want to marry you because you’re so clever,” said the nobleman.

  “But we can be married only on one condition: that you won’t meddle in the decisions I make when lawsuits are brought before me.” She promised not to meddle, and so they were married.

  Some while later as she was standing beside an open window, she saw a weeping peasant pass by. “Why are you crying?” she asked. He said, “Listen. One of my neighbors and I own a stable in partnership. I own a mare, and my neighbor owns a wagon. Now, the mare gave birth to her foal under the wagon, and my neighbor claimed that the foal was his. So we asked the nobleman to decide between us, and the nobleman said the foal belongs to my neighbor. That’s why I’m weeping.”

  She said, “Let me tell you what to do. Get yourself a fishing rod and line and stand in the sandy place just below the nobleman’s window. Pretend that you’re catching fish in the sand. When the nobleman asks, ‘How can you possibly catch fish in the sand?’ you must say, ‘If a wagon can give birth to a foal, then I can catch fish in the sand.’ ”

  The peasant did as she said, and when the nobleman heard his reply, he understood at once that his wife was involved. Turning to her, he said, “Since you haven’t kept your part of our agreement, I want you to take the finest and dearest thing that you can find in the house and go back to your father.”

  “All right,” she said. “But before I go, I want us to have one last meal together.” Well, he agreed to that. There was plenty of wine at the table, and she saw to it that he got good and drunk. When he passed out, she ordered the servants to put him into a carriage. Then she stepped into it herself, and they were driven off together to her father’s house.

  The nobleman woke up sober and saw where he was. “How did I get here?” he asked.

  She said, “You told me to take the finest and dearest thing I could find in your house. I could find nothing finer or dearer to me than you.”

  “In that case,” said he, fondly, “let’s make up and go back home.”

  And from that time on, they grew old together in wealth and honor.

  72

  Then Where’s the Cat?

  The cat in Khaim the melamed’s house was a rotten pest. One day Khaim’s wife bought a kilo of butter and left it on the table, and the cat ate it up. The wife made a terrible racket and threatened to kill the cat.

  The melamed said in the cat’s defense, “But you didn’t actually see what happened, so how do you know it was the cat that ate it?”

  Then he had an idea. “I’ll weigh the cat,” he said, “and we’ll see if it ate the butter.” So they weighed the cat and it weighed precisely one kilo.

  “Then it’s true,” said Khaim’s wife. “The damn thing ate the butter.”

  “Hmm,” said Khaim. “It’s true, the butter’s there all right. But then where’s the cat?”

  73

  The Best for My Wife

  A melamed went to the butcher shop to buy some meat for his wife, who was in childbed. He asked the butcher to cut him a nice piece. “The best you have,” he said. The butcher showed him some meat, saying, “See how nice and fat it is.”

  “If fat is so desirable,” thought the melamed, “I’ll buy some fat instead.”

  The butcher handed him some fat, saying, “It’s like pure olive oil.”

  The melamed handed the fat back and went off to buy olive oil. The grocer, as he handed it to him, said “This olive oil is as pure and clear as water.”

  “In that case,” said his customer, “let me have some water.”

  74

  The Coat of Patches

  Once there was a man so poor that he couldn’t support his wife and six children. They were hungry and cold. The man thought, “What good is a life like this? I’ll have to do something about it.” He decided to go out into the wide world to beg for alms. So he said farewell to his family and started off.

  He wandered through woods and forests, from villages to towns, and collected a great sum of money in coins, which he then changed into banknotes. But how could he carry them safely? Well, he hid them inside his coat, beneath patches that he sewed over each bundle of bills.

  Eventually he had so much money that his entire coat was covered with patches. Of course it didn’t all happen at once. Years went by before the body of the coat was covered with patches. Then he had to sew patches on the sleeves, on the collar, and inside, on the lining.

  So the years passed. He didn’t write letters and his wife and children, long convinced that he was dead, stopped mourning for him. They grew poorer every year. The mother took in laundry and scrubbed floors, while the children did what they could to earn something for the family. And thus thirty years went by.

  The husband had a real stock of capital by now. And he thought, “How much longer must I wander? I’ll go back to my wife.” So he bought an expensive coat with a fur collar and dressed himself up like a rich man. He made a parcel of the patched coat and took it with him. When he arrived at his shtetl, nobody recognized him. He went into his house and asked his grown children, “Where is your father?” They said, “Our father went wandering in the wide world. Probably he’s dead.”

  He said, “No, he’s not. Children, I am your father,” and embraced them. Immediately the house was filled with a joyful commotion. “Khaim Yankl is back! He’s a millionaire!” The whole town was in an uproar.

  When his wife, who was not at home, heard the news, she refused to believe it.
Still, she started back to the house. Meanwhile her husband put the patched coat into a kitchen corner and went off to the synagogue to recite his prayers. The wife came in and saw the prayer shawl he had forgotten, and recognized it at once. So she started in to prepare the midday meal. As she was working in the kitchen she came upon the patched coat. Picking it up, she said, “Ugh. What an ugly thing,” and threw it aside.

  Just then a poor man came in and asked for alms. She had nothing to give him, yet she was unwilling to send him off empty-handed. Then she remembered the patched coat and said, “Perhaps you could use this coat. It’s not much, I know.” But the poor man snatched it up and put it on, saying that it would do very well to keep him warm, and went on his way.

  When her husband came back from the synagogue—ah, what joy and happiness! They embraced; they talked. When they had finished eating, the husband took out a knife and a sharpening stone and began to sharpen the blade.

  This terrified the family. How could they be sure he was not a robber in disguise? They had heard of stranger things. And so they crouched in various corners of the room while one of them stood near the door so that he could go for help if necessary.

  When the man had sharpened his knife, he went to the kitchen and looked in the corner where he had put the coat. Not there. He asked his wife if she had seen it. “Yes, and I gave it to a poor man,” she said. When he heard that, he fainted dead away.

  They brought him to, and he said, “My whole fortune—all the money I collected over thirty years—is in that coat.” His wife fainted dead away.

  Her husband put on his new coat and went to a store where he bought a fiddle, which he carried to the town square, where he played it as he sang, “I’m a fool, I’m a fool.” A crowd gathered and somebody said, “Khaim Yankl, what’s the matter with you? Playing the fiddle in the middle of the day!” But he kept on playing and repeating, “I’m a fool, I’m a fool.” People came running from all sides crying, “Khaim Yankl has gone mad.” The whole town gathered to watch.

  The poor man who had taken the coat saw that a crowd had gathered and also came to watch. Recognizing his coat, Khaim Yankl cried even more loudly, “I’m a fool, I’m a fool, I’m a fool.” Turning to the poor man, he said, “Let’s exchange coats.” Everyone laughed. Just think what a crazy man will do! A fine coat with a fur collar for a patched rag!

  The poor man was delighted by Khaim Yankl’s offer, and the two of them traded coats on the spot. Fearful that Khaim Yankl might change his mind, the poor man ran off as fast as he could. Khaim Yankl meanwhile walked along, wearing his tattered coat, playing the fiddle, and singing, “You’re a fool, you’re a fool, you’re a fool.”

  When Khaim Yankl got home, he unstitched the patches on the coat and took the money out. And from that time on he lived like a rich man.

  75

  The Bishop Moshke: Another Riddle Tale

  A bishop was once very angry at a Jew named Moshke. So he went to the king and complained about him. He insisted that Moshke be given a good thrashing.

  “All right,” said the king. “But first I want to put three questions to you. If you give me the right answers, you can do what you like with Moshke. And you can have three days to think about the answers. The first question is: Where is the middle of the earth? The second is: How many stars are there in the sky? And the third: What will I be thinking when you come back to see me?”

  The bishop agreed to this test and went home. He thought and thought, but he couldn’t light on the answers. Then it occurred to him that he would ask Moshke. “It’s true,” he thought, “I’m planning to do him harm, but he doesn’t know it. I have a feeling that he can guess the answers, and that I can get him to tell me what they are.”

  So the bishop called Moshke to his house and told him what the questions were. Moshke said, “Give me a little time to think.” He thought and thought and thought. Then he said, “Take off your clothes and hang them in the next room. Then run naked around the room seven times. After that I’ll be ready to tell you the answers.”

  The bishop did as he was told. And Moshke went into the room where the bishop’s clothes were and put them on. Then he left to see the king. The king stared and stared at him.

  “What are you thinking?” Moshke said. “I know what you’re thinking. You think that I’m the bishop, but I’m not. I’m Moshke the Jew.”

  The king was amazed that he had answered one of his questions right. He said, “Very well, I’ll ask you the other questions now. If you answer them correctly, you’ll discover what you have earned.”

  Moshke said, “Very well, ask me.”

  The king said, “Where is the middle of the world?”

  Moshke thought for a while, then tapped his foot and said, “It’s right here.”

  “How do you know?” asked the king.

  “If you don’t believe me, be good enough to measure it for yourself.” When the king heard that, he decided it was the better part of wisdom to believe him.

  “And now,” said the king, “here is the last question. How many stars are there in the sky?”

  Moshke thought for a while. He reckoned and reckoned. Then he said, “There are ninety-eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty stars.”

  The astonished king asked, “How is it that you know the number so precisely?”

  Moshke replied, “Count them for yourself and see whether I’m right.”

  “Your cleverness has just saved your hide,” said the king. “And because you were able to answer all of my questions, I’m going to make you my chief counselor. And now we’ll take a droshky to the bishop’s house. We can let him know that I’ve given you the right to do to him what he was going to do to you.”

  The king and Moshke drove to the bishop’s house, where they found that worthy running naked round and round a table. At the sight of him the king burst out laughing.

  The end of the matter was that the bishop was given a good thrashing and Moshke lived on in the king’s favor.

  76

  Good Manners and Foolish Khushim

  Until he was sixteen, Khushim the Fool lolled about on top of the oven and never went anywhere. His mother said, “Khushim, why don’t you get out of the house? It’ll do you good to rub shoulders with other people.”

  “All right, Mother,” he said. So he left the house and went out into the street, and there he saw a crowd. He pressed his way into the middle of it and started to rub against the people, for which they beat him soundly. When he came home weeping, his mother said, “My son, when you mingle with people you have to greet them. If it’s morning, you say ‘Good morning.’ If it’s afternoon, you say ‘God be with you.’ If it’s evening, you say ‘Good evening.’ When you take your leave in the afternoon, you say ‘Good day,’ and if it’s night you say ‘Good night’.”

  “Good, Mother,” said Khushim. “I’ll do as you say.”

  He went out into the street, and there he saw a funeral procession. He ran up to the mourners and cried, “Good morning. God be with you. Good evening. Good day. Good night,” for which they beat him soundly.

  When he came home weeping, his mother said, “My son, if you come upon a funeral procession, you’re supposed to weep. And if the deceased is a young man, you say, ‘Woe, woe. Such a young tree to be felled in its prime.’ And if he’s old, you say, ‘May he rest in paradise’.”

  “Good, Mother,” said Khushim. “I’ll do as you say.”

  He went out into the street, where he saw a wedding procession going by. The musicians were playing, the relatives of the bride and groom were dancing. Khushim, seeing them, cried out, “Woe, woe. Such a young tree to be felled in its prime. May he rest in paradise,” for which they beat him soundly.

  When he came home weeping, his mother said, “My son, if you see a wedding procession, you cry ‘Congratulations!’ and you sing and dance.”

  Khushim said, “Good, Mother. I’ll do as you say.”

  He went out into the street and came to a
house on fire. People were standing around it weeping and wailing. Khushim called out “Congratulations!” and began to sing and dance, for which they beat him soundly.

  When he came home weeping, his mother said. “My son, if you see a house on fire you’re supposed to grab a bucket of water and put out the flames.”

  Khushim said, “Good, Mother. I’ll do as you say.”

  He went out into the street, and there he saw a house with smoke coming out of its chimney. So he grabbed a bucket of water, climbed up on the roof, and poured the water down the chimney, for which they beat him soundly.

  When he came home weeping, his mother said, “My son, you may as well loll about on top of the oven. There’s no point in your rubbing shoulders with the rest of the world.”

  77

  Khushim and His Bride

  When Khushim started off to see his prospective bride, his mother said, “My son, cast an eye on the girl to make sure there’s nothing wrong with her.”

  At the bride’s home when Khushim was seated at the table, he took an eye out of his pocket and cast it at her, for which they beat him soundly.

  When Khushim’s mother came home, she found the house in an uproar, filled with neighbors complaining that Khushim had cut the eyes out of a kid, a calf, and a sheep, for which they beat him soundly.

  His mother said, “My son, when you talk in the home of a possible bride, try to make your conversation well-rounded.”

  When Khushim returned to the prospective bride’s house, he shouted, “A plate, a bowl, a barrel, a basin, a frying pan,” for which they beat him soundly.