“Why,” cried his wife in surprise, “what are you saying, husband? Are you not a doctor, and is it not your business to cure people? And when you succeed ought you not to be glad?”
“I wish I were not a doctor,” said the husband, sighing. “It would be much better if there were no doctors at all;” and he sat and lamented, and nothing his wife could say, could cheer him.
In a pretty little cottage near the doctor’s house lived a young couple, who were newly married, and were as happy as the day was long. Their cottage was covered with roses, and filled with pretty things, and they had everything their hearts could desire. This morning they both came down smiling and happy, and the young wife kissed her husband, and sang for joy. So they sat down to breakfast, chattering like two birds in a nest; but no sooner had the husband tasted the bread than his face fell, and he was silent for a time; then he said,
“It is a very terrible thing to think how happy we are, for it cannot last. Something melancholy is sure to happen to us, and till it comes we shall live in dread of it; for we know happiness never lasts, and this is a thought that makes me very sad.”
The wife had now also taken some bread.
“What is this you are saying?” she said. “How can you think such dreadful things? I do not like you when you talk like that; and I think it is very hard for me to be married to a man who wants to be unhappy.”
“The best thing we can hope for,” said the husband, sighing, “is for some great misfortune to befall us; then we should be all right, for we should know then, that we knew the worst that could come. As it is we shall live in suspense all our days.”
“Now,” cried his wife, “I am indeed unfortunate. What could be worse than to have a husband who does not like being happy? I wish I had married someone else; or indeed had no husband at all.”
So both began to grumble, and at last to quarrel, and finally both were crying with anger.
Not far out of the village was a large pleasant farmhouse, standing amongst fields, and the farmer was a hale, bright man, with a good wife and pretty children. He was very busy just now getting in the corn, for it was autumn, and he stood among his men, directing them as they worked in the fields. He had not had time to have a proper breakfast before going to work, but his wife sent some out to him with some of the baker’s new bread, and he sat down under a tree to eat it. As he did so he looked up at the farmhouse, and thought, with pride, that it was the largest farm in all the country round, and that it had belonged to his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, before him.
“ ’Tis a fine old house, for sure,” thought he, as he took a large piece of bread, “ ’Tis so well built and strong;” but no sooner had he swallowed a mouthful than his thoughts changed.
“What should I do if it were to fall down and crush me some day,” he said to himself. “After all, ’tis only built of brick, and might tumble any day. How much stronger it would have been if it had been built of stone. Then it would not have been nearly so likely to give way. Really when my great-grandfather built it he should have thought of this. How selfish all men are;” and he became quite unhappy lest his house should fall, and lamented while he ate.
In the kitchen the farmer’s wife was very busy cooking and cleaning, and scarcely stopped to eat till near midday. Then she took up a piece of bread and cheese, and leant against the window as she ate it, that she might watch for her eldest girl and boy, Janey and Jimmy, who would now be returning from school.
“Our baker really bakes very decent bread,” said she; “ ’tis almost as good as my own;” and she went on eating till she saw her two children coming through the fields together.
“Here they come,” said she; “How bonny they look. Really I ought to be very proud of them. I don’t know which is the prettier, Janey or Jimmy, but ’tis a pity, for sure, that Janey is the eldest. It would be much better if Jimmy were older than she. ’Tis a bad thing for the sister to be older than the brother. Now, if he were her age, and she were his, that would be really nice, for then he could take care of her and see after her; but, as it is, she will try to direct him, and boys never like to obey their sisters; I really almost think I had better not have had any children at all,” and the tears filled her eyes, and when her girl and boy ran in to her, her face was very sad, and she seemed to be scarcely glad to see them.
So things went on all over the village. Each one as he tasted the bread grew discontented and angry, till at last all the people went about grumbling and complaining, or else shedding tears outright. Only the baker himself was cheerful and merry, and sang as he kneaded his dough, and sold it to his customers with a light heart, for his trade had never been so good. Every atom of bread he made was sold at once, so he cared not one whit for the trouble of the other people, and laughed to himself when he heard them complaining, and thought of the words of the dark little elf.
One day as he stood kneading at the
