# Tales from the Fjeld/This is the Lad who Sold the Pig

This is the Lad who sold the Pig
ONCE on a time there was a widow who had a son, and he had set his heart on being nothing else than a tradesman. But you must know they were so poor, that they had nothing that he could begin his trading with. The only thing his mother owned in the world was a sow pig, and he begged and prayed so long and so prettily for it, that at last she was forced to let him have it.
When he had got it, he was to set off to sell it, that he might have some money to begin his trading. So he offered it to this man and that, good and bad alike; but there was no one who just then cared to buy a pig. At last he came to a rich old hunks; but you know much will always have more, and that man was one of the sort that never can have enough.
"Will you buy a pig to-day?" said the lad; "a good pig, and a long pig, and a fine fat pig." That was what he said.
The old hunks asked what he would have for it. It was at least worth six dollars, even between brothers, said the lad; but the times were so hard, and money so scarce, he didn't mind selling it for four dollars; and that was as good as giving it away.
​No, that the old hunks would not do—he wouldn't give so much as a dollar even; he had more pigs already than he wanted, and was well off for pigs of that sort. But as the lad was so eager to sell, he would be willing to do him a turn and deal with him; but the most he could give for the whole pig, every inch of it, was fourpence. If he would take that, he might turn his pig into the sty with the rest. That was what the old hunks said.
The lad thought it shameful that he should not get more for his pig; but then he thought that something was better than nothing, and so he took the fourpence and turned in the pig. And then he fingered the money, and went about his business. But when he got out into the road, he could not get it out of his head that he had been cheated out of his pig, and that he was not much better off with fourpence than with nothing. The longer he went and thought of this, the angrier he got, and at last he thought to himself—
"If I could only play him a pretty trick, I wouldn't care either for the pig or the pence."
So he went away and got him a pair of stout thongs and a cat-o'-nine-tails, and then he threw over him a big cloak, and put on a billygoat's beard; and so he went back to the skinflint, and said he was from outlandish parts, where he had learnt to be a master-builder for you must know he had heard the old hunks was going to build a house.
Yes, he would gladly take him as master-builder, he said; for thereabouts there were none but hometaught carpenters. So off they went to look at the ​timber, and it was the finest heart of pine that any one would wish to have in the wall of his house; and even the lad said it was brave timber—he couldn't say otherwise; but in outlandish parts they had got a new fashion, which was far better than the old. They did not take long beams and fit them into the wall, but they cut the beams up into nice small logs, and then they baked them in the sun and fastened them together again; and so they were both stronger and prettier than an old-fashioned timber building.
"That's how they build all the houses nowadays in outlandish parts," said the lad.
"If it must be so, it must," said the hunks. With that he set all the carpenters and woodmen who were to be found round about to chop and hew all his beams up into small logs.
"But," said the lad, "we still want some big trees—some of the real mast firs—for our sill-beams; maybe there are no such big trees in your wood."
"Well," said the man, "if they're not to be found in my wood, it will be hard to find them anywhere else."
And so they strode off to the wood, both of them; and a little way up the hill they came to a big tree.
"I should think that's big enough," said the man.
"No, it isn't big enough," said the lad. "If you haven't bigger trees, we shan't make much way with our building after the new fashion."
"Yes, I have bigger ones," said the man. "You shall soon see; but we must go farther on."
So they went a long way over the hill, and at last they came to a big tree, one of the finest trees for a mast in all the wood.
​"Do you think this is big enough?" said the man.
"I almost think it is," said the lad. "We will fathom it, and then we shall soon see. You go on the other side of the fir, and I will stand here. If we are not good enough to make our hands meet, it will be big enough; but mind you stretch out well. Stretch out well, do you hear?" said the lad, as he took out his thongs. As for the man, he did all the lad told him.
"Yes," said the lad, "we shall meet nicely, I can see. But stop a bit, and I'll stretch your hands better," he said, as he slipped a running knot over his wrists and drew it tight, and bound him fast to the tree; then out came the cat-o'-nine-tails, and he fell to flogging the old hunks as fast as he could, and all the while he cried out—
"This is the lad who sold the pig! and this is the lad who sold the pig!"
Nor did he leave off till he thought the old hunks had enough, and that he had got his rights for the pig; and then he loosed him, and left him lying under the tree.
Now, when the man did not come home, they made ​a hue and cry for him over the neighbourhood, and searched the country round; and at last they found him under the fir-tree, more dead than alive.
So when they had got him home, the lad came, and had dressed himself up as a doctor, and said he had come from foreign parts, and knew a cure for all kinds of hurt. And when the man heard that, he was all for having him to doctor him, and the lad said he would not be long in curing him; but he must have him all alone in a room by himself, and no one must be by.
"If you hear him screech and cry out," he said, "you must not mind it; for the more he screeches, the sooner he will be well again."
So when they were alone, he said—
"First of all I must bleed you." And so he threw the man roughly down on a bench, and bound him fast with the thongs; and then out came the cat-o'-nine-tails, and he fell to flogging him as fast as he could. The man screeched and screamed, for his back was sore, and every lash went into the bare flesh; and the lad flogged and flogged as though there were no end to it, and all the while he bawled out—
"This is the lad who sold the pig! this is the lad who sold the pig!"
The old hunks bellowed as though a knife were being stuck into him; but there was not a soul that ​cared about it, for the more he screeched the sooner he would be well, they thought.
So when the lad had done his doctoring, he set off from the farm as fast as he could; but they followed fast on his heels, and overtook him, and threw him into prison, and the end was, he was doomed to be hanged.
And the old hunks was so angry with him, even then, that he would not have him hanged till he was quite well, so that he might hang him with his own hands.
So while the lad sat there in prison waiting to be hanged, one of the serving-men came out by night and stole kail in the garden of the old hunks, and the lad saw him.
"So, so," said he to himself, "master thief, it will be odd if I don't play off a trick or two with you before I am hanged."
And so when time went on, and the man was so well he thought he had strength enough to hang him, he made them set up a gallows down by the way to the mill, so that he might see the body hanging every time he went to the mill. So they set out to hang the lad; and when they had gone a bit of a way, the lad said—
"You will not refuse to let me talk alone with your servant who grinds down yonder at the mill? I did him a bad turn once, and I wish now to confess it, and beg him for forgiveness before I die."
Yes, he might have leave to do that.
"Heaven help you!" he said to the miller's man.
"Now your master is coming to hang you because you stole kail in his garden."
​As soon as the miller's man heard that, he was so taken aback he did not know which way to turn, and so he asked the lad what he should do.
"Take and change clothes with me, and hide yourself behind the door," said the lad, "and then he will not know that it isn't me. And if he lays hands on any one, then it will not be you, but me."
It was some time before they had changed clothes and dressed again, and the old hunks began to be afraid lest the lad should have run away. So he posted down to the mill door.
"Where is he?" he said to the lad, who stood there as white as a miller.
"Oh, he was here just now," said the lad. "I think he went and hid himself behind the door."
"I'll teach you to hide behind the door, you rogue," said the old hunks, as he seized the man in a great rage, and hurried him off to the gallows, and hanged him in a breath; and all the while he never knew it was not the lad that he hanged.
After that was done, he wanted to go into the mill to talk to his man, who was busy grinding. Meantime the lad had wedged up the upper millstone, and was feeling under it with his hands.
"Come here, come here," he called out as soon as he saw the old hunks, "and you shall feel what a wonderful millstone this is."
So the man went and felt the millstone with one hand.
"Nay, nay," said the lad, "you'll never feel it unless you take hold of it with both hands."
Well, he did so; and just then the lad snatched out ​the wedge and let the upper millstone down on him, so that he was caught fast by the hands between the stones. Then out came the cat-o'-nine-tails again, and he fell to flogging him as fast as he could.
"This is the lad who sold the pig!" he cried out till he was hoarse.
And when he had flogged him as much as he could, he went home to his mother; and as time went on, and he thought the man had come to himself again, he said to her—
"Yes, now I dare say that man will be coming to whom I sold the pig; and now I know no other trick to screen me any longer from him, unless I dig a hole here south of the house, and there I will lie all day; and you must mind and say to him just what I tell you."
So the lad told his mother all she was to say and do.
Then he dug such a hole as he had said, and took with him a long butcher's knife, and lay down in it; and his mother covered him over with boughs and leaves and moss, so that he was quite hidden. There he lay by day; and after a while the man came travelling along and asked for the lad.
"Ay, ay!" said his mother, "he was a man, that he was; though he never got from me more than one sow pig. For he became both a doctor and a master-builder, and he was hanged after that, and rose again from the dead; and yet I never heard anything but ill of him. Here he came flying home the other day, and then he gave me the greatest joy I ever had of him, for he laid him down and died. As for me, I did not care enough for him to spend money on a priest and Christian ​earth; but I just buried him yonder, south of the house, and raked over him boughs and leaves."
"See now," said the old hunks, "if he hasn't cheated me after all, and slipped through my ringers. But though I have not been avenged on him living, I will do him a dishonour in his grave."
As he said this he strode away south to the grave, and stooped down to spit into it; but at that very moment the lad stuck the knife into him up to the handle, and bawled out—
"This is the lad who sold the pig! this is the lad who sold the pig!"
Away flew the man with the knife sticking in him, and he was so scared and afraid, that nothing has ever been heard or seen of him since.