Knave And Fool
by
A Fool and a Knave once set up house together; which shows what a fool the Fool was.
The Knave was delighted with the agreement; and the Fool thought himself most fortunate to have met with a companion who would supply his lack of mother-wit.
As neither of them liked work, the Knave proposed that they should live upon their joint savings as long as these should last; and, to avoid disputes, that they should use the Fool’s share till it came to an end, and then begin upon the Knave’s stocking.
So, for a short time, they lived in great comfort at the Fool’s expense, and were very good company; for easy times make easy tempers.
Just when the store was exhausted, the Knave came running to the Fool with an empty bag and a wry face, crying, “Dear friend, what shall we do? This bag, which I had safely buried under a gooseberry-bush, has been taken up by some thief, and all my money stolen. My savings were twice as large as yours; but now that they are gone, and I can no longer perform my share of the bargain, I fear our partnership must be dissolved.”
“Not so, dear friend,” said the Fool, who was very good-natured; “we have shared good luck together, and now we will share poverty. But as nothing is left, I fear we must seek work.”
“You speak very wisely,” said the Knave, “And what, for instance, can you do?”
“Very little,” said the Fool; “but that little I do well.”
“So do I,” said the Knave. “Now can you plough, or sow, or feed cattle, or plant crops?”
“Farming is not my business,” said the Fool.
“Nor mine,” said the Knave; “but no doubt you are a handicraftsman. Are you clever at carpentry, mason’s work, tailoring, or shoemaking?”
“I do not doubt that I should have been had I learned the trades,” said the Fool, “but I never was bound apprentice.”
“It is the same with myself,” said the Knave; “but you may have finer talents. Can you paint, or play the fiddle?”
“I never tried,” said the Fool; “so I don’t know.”
“Just my case,” said the Knave. “And now, since we can’t find work, I propose that we travel till work finds us.”
The two comrades accordingly set forth, and they went on and on, till they came to the foot of a hill, where a merchantman was standing by his wagon, which had broken down.
“You seem two strong men,” said he, as they advanced; “if you will carry this chest of valuables up to the top of the hill, and down to the bottom on the other side, where there is an inn, I will give you two gold pieces for your trouble.”
The Knave and the Fool consented to this, saying, “Work has found us at last;” and they lifted the box on to their shoulders.
“Turn, and turn about,” said the Knave; “but the best turn between friends is a good turn; so I will lead the way up-hill, which is the hardest kind of travelling, and you shall go first down-hill, the easy half of our journey.”
The Fool thought this proposal a very generous one, and, not knowing that the lower end of their burden was the heavy one, he carried it all the way. When they got to the inn, the merchant gave each of them a gold piece, and, as the accommodation was good, they remained where they were till their money was spent. After this, they lived there awhile on credit; and when that was exhausted, they rose one morning whilst the landlord was still in bed, and pursued their journey, leaving old scores behind them.
They had been a long time without work or food, when they came upon a man who sat by the roadside breaking stones, with a quart of porridge and a spoon in a tin pot beside him.