In mountain caves and in the depths of the earth there lives a tribe of little people called dwarfs or gnomes.
Dwarves are no more than a foot tall. They have long hair and long beards, they wear shaggy caps, red suits and silver shoes, and are armed with sabers and spears. These little men are not Christians. They will live until the end of the world, and then they will die, but will not be resurrected on the Day of Judgment.
Dwarves are not evil people and even provide services to people. But if you want to see them turn purple with anger, all you have to do is shout like a goose: “Ha! Ha! Ha!” Gnomes don’t like geese, because as soon as the geese see a gnome, they begin to pinch him with all their might. If you want to see the gnomes as cheerful as finches, just say: “Today there will be money.”
In the old days, gnomes sometimes showed themselves to people. Now we don't hear anything about them. Maybe they left our country. Or maybe they don’t dare to go out during the day for fear of evil people and geese that offend them.
Dwarves drink and eat like us. Now I’ll tell you how they get everything they need.
The earth gives us something new in every month of the year: in June - hay, in July - bread, in September - grapes and corn. It produces different fruits, which each ripen in its own time, and also produces livestock, large and small. All this is for us Christians. We can see and touch these gifts of the earth whenever we want.
But there are other crops, other fruits and other livestock, large and small. Christians do not have to see or touch these gifts of the earth: the earth will give birth to them for little people in just one evening, on New Year’s Eve, from sunset to midnight. And before sunrise, all this must be collected and stored underground.
Therefore, for seven hours the dwarves have to work tirelessly. They still have exactly one hour left to take out and air their gold in the light of day - piles of louis and Spanish gold, which they store inside the rocks. If this yellow gold is not exposed to the light once a year, it deteriorates and turns red. Then the gnomes no longer value them and throw them away.
I'm only telling you what I know - it's as sure as the fact that we're all going to die. Finally, I can easily prove to you that I am telling the truth. Listen here.
Once upon a time there lived a weaver in Saint-Avi, burdened with a large family and poor as a church rat. His real name was Cluzet. But when he later became rich, people, out of envy, gave him the nickname Dung Gold. My grandfather (God rest his soul!) often told me how this weaver became a rich man. And now you will hear his story.
Cluzet was hunting rabbits. No one could compare with him in his ability to catch them at any time of the year with a snare, or hunt them with a ferret, or shoot from ambush even on the darkest nights.
In his lifetime, he killed more than a thousand of these animals, and his wife and daughter took them to the market and fairs in Lektur and Astafor to sell.
Noble gentlemen and rich townspeople who love to hunt rabbits were angry with Clusey. They called him a fraudster, a poacher and set the gendarmes against him. But Cluzet only laughed at this, because thanks to him, the Lecturian judges often ate delicious rabbit stew, which cost them little. And, of course, these gentlemen were not inclined to judge such an obliging person as Cluzet.
One winter evening, on New Year’s Eve, Cluzet dined, as always, with soup with his family. After eating, he said to his wife:
- That's it, little wife! Tomorrow is New Year's Day. I want to give some rabbits to the authorities at Lectoure. Put the children to bed and go to bed yourself. And I'll go hunting.
Cluzet took his gun and bag and went out. It was freezing outside, and the stars sparkled in the black, moonless sky.
Our weaver had just hidden himself in ambush between the Zhersky rocks when he heard someone shouting under his feet:
- Hey you lazy people, hurry up! Everything must be ready at exactly midnight!
- We know, we know, lord! After all, we are given only this one night on New Year’s Eve!
Cluzet realized that the dwarves were preparing for their work, and remained in ambush: he wanted to hear and see what would happen.
The oldest dwarf appeared at the entrance to the cave with a whip in his hand, looked at the sky and shouted:
- Midnight! Live up, lazy people! Hurry up! Before the sun rises, we need to take all our supplies underground for the whole year.
- It will be done, lord! After all, we only have one night a year.
From the cave, under the crack of the elder gnome's whip, a countless number of little men poured out with scythes, sickles, flails, garden knives and baskets for harvesting grapes, with rockers, driving sticks - in a word, with everything that was needed for harvesting and for driving cattle to one place.
When the little men ran away, their master called out to the weaver:
- Cluzet, do you want to earn a six-livre coin?
- How could you not want to, Mr. Dwarf!
- So, Cluzet, help my people. An hour later, some of the gnomes had already returned.
Some carried carts the size of half a pumpkin, loaded with hay, grapes, corn, and various fruits. Others drove in front of them bulls and cows the size of dogs, herds of sheep that were no bigger than weasels.
Cluzet worked hard to help the dwarfs, who were now coming in hundreds from all directions. And the lord of the dwarves all the time cracked his whip and shouted:
- Hurry up, lazy people! Hurry up! All supplies must be underground before sunrise!
- We're in a hurry, master. We know that we only have one night on New Year's Eve.
By sunrise, all the dwarves' supplies were already underground.
Then the lord of the dwarves said to the weaver:
- Cluzet, here are your six livres. You earned them honestly. Do you want to earn some more ECU?
- How could you not want to, Mr. Dwarf!
- Well, help my people!
Little people were already emerging from the depths of the cave, bending under the weight of bags full of yellow gold, louis d'or, Spanish gold. And their ruler kept cracking his whip and shouting:
- Hurry up, lazy people! Hurry up! We have exactly one hour left to air out the yellow gold. If this gold is not exposed to daylight once a year, it deteriorates, turns red, and has to be thrown away.
“We’re working, master, we’re working as hard as we can.”
Cluzet worked hard, pouring the gold out of the bags, stirring it so that it all aired and saw the light of day.
As soon as an hour passed, the dwarves picked up their bags of gold and quickly carried them into the depths of the cave. And their ruler, cracking his whip, said:
- Well, Cluzet, get the second crown. You earned it honestly! But my people don't work well! Because of their mediocrity, ten pounds of yellow gold have not seen the light of day for more than a year. It was left over, spoiled and turned red. Hey you slackers! Throw this crap out so it doesn't lie underground.
The dwarves obeyed. They threw ten pounds of red gold out of the cave. Then they disappeared with their master into the depths of the cave.
Cluzet took one louis d'ore and one Spanish gold coin, buried the rest of the gold and went home.
- Well, hubby, was your hunt successful today?
- Lucky, little wife.
- Show me what you brought.
- No, not now. I need to leave on business.
Without even eating, Cluzet went to the city of Agen and entered the goldsmith's shop.
- Hello, master! Look at this red gold! Here is the louis d'or and the Spanish gold. Are they as valuable as yellow gold?
- Yes, my friend. If you want, I will exchange them for you for an ecus.
Having counted the money, Cluzet immediately, without eating or drinking, went to Saint-Avy. When he came home, he was barely able to say:
- Hurry up, wife, hurry up and give me some soup. And bread and wine! I'm dying of hunger and thirst.
After dinner, the weaver went to bed and snored for fifteen hours straight. But the next night, without telling anyone, he went to the Zhersky rocks and returned with three pounds of red gold. He went there two more times at night and took the rest. When all the gold was brought, Cluzet called his wife.
- Look! Wasn't I right when I told you that the hunt on New Year's Eve was successful? Now we are rich. Let's leave here and live a glorious life!
No sooner said than done. Cluzet and his family left Saint-Avy and went far, far away, further than Moissac, to the land of Quercy. With his ten pounds of gold, Cluzet bought a large forest there, a water mill with four millstones, twenty manors and a magnificent castle, where he lived happily ever after with his wife and children. He was a good man, always ready to serve his neighbor, and no one helped the poor more generously than him. But that didn't stop people from envying him. That's why they gave him the nickname Dung Gold.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru