In the village of Sopham, in Norfolk, there lived a peddler, John. His family was small: himself, his wife and three children.
They lived poorly, in a squalid house, and no matter how hard John tried, they still could not get rich. He did not turn out to be a real merchant - he was too simple for this business, too honest, did not know how to extort the last money from the poor people to whom he sold his goods at fairs and bazaars.
Day after day John walked along the roads with his bag on his back. He sold pins and lace, ribbons and scarves to anyone who wanted to buy them, and sang old songs and ballads at village fairs.
But one year spring turned out to be late, and when it finally came, such a wind blew and it rained so much that poor John was almost completely unable to wander along the roads with his goods.
It was a difficult time for John and his wife. They barely managed to feed and clothe their three children. My son had no shoes and nothing to go out in. And my daughters have grown out of their dresses, whether you like it or not, get new ones.
- I can’t imagine what we should do! - the peddler's wife said with a sigh one rainy morning. “And I can’t think of it... Apparently, you, John, will have to get hired as a farm worker.” You won't earn much from trading this year.
“There’s nothing to do on the farm in this weather either,” answered the peddler. - But I’ll tell you what, wife! I'll go to London as soon as it clears up.
- To London? - exclaimed the wife. - What should you do there? Do you want to get rich, or what? Yes, these London crooks will rob you completely! What got it into your head to go to London?
“So be it,” answered the peddler, “I’ll tell you everything.” Last night, when the rain was drumming on the roof, I couldn’t sleep and kept thinking and racking my brains about what we should do. I just couldn’t find a place for myself. And when I finally fell asleep, I had a wonderful dream. By God, wonderful wife!
“You probably saw in a dream that a closet full of new clothes fell from the sky into the fireplace!” And when I woke up, I saw that in the fireplace there was not a closet, but just an old rook’s nest, which had been sticking out on our roof for a whole year.
- No! - said John. - In a dream, I heard a voice, so gentle, but I don’t know whose. And this voice said to me: “John, go to London, stand on London Bridge, and you will hear amazing news.”
- What news? - asked John's wife.
- Well, he didn’t say that, or rather, I didn’t have time to listen to the end, and that’s when I woke up. And how gentle the voice was, how heartfelt!
“And you’re going to drag yourself to London just because you had this dream last night?!” It’s just that you ate moldy cheese the night before, and that’s why you dreamed about some nonsense!
- Eh, no, my dear, I don’t have dreams after your dinners! - said the peddler.
- And no wonder! What should I cook dinner from? Well, what is this amazing news you should hear on London Bridge? Maybe you're hoping to find out that your uncle left us an inheritance?
“Yes, something like that, although the old man has no fortune and nothing to leave.” However, all this is nonsense, and there is no point in talking about it anymore.
But that night the peddler had the same dream, and then the third. For three nights in a row the same voice spoke to him in a dream: “John, go to London, stand on London Bridge, and you will hear amazing news.”
No matter how simple John was, even if he got something into his head, nothing would get through him. And in the end his wife agreed to let him go to London. She blessed her husband for the journey and said that she didn’t need anything, as long as he returned alive. She made John dress warmer and gave him the last of the money. John kissed the whole family goodbye and set off on his way to London.
It was four days before London. Luckily for John, the weather cleared up, and he could spend the night on the threshing floor or under a haystack. So he got to London and easily found the famous bridge. In those distant times, there were houses and shops on this bridge, and a wide road ran across it. There was no other bridge across the Thames in London at that time.
When he reached the bridge, John stopped and waited. He looked at the water and saw boats passing by; I looked down the street and saw carriages, carts, horsemen and pedestrians. But no one spoke to him, no one even noticed him.
When night fell, John made himself comfortable against the wall of a house and fell asleep.
The next day he decided to try his luck at the other end of the bridge. But again no one paid any attention to him. When John got hungry, he bought himself some bread, some cheese and a glass of beer.
So he stood on the bridge day after day until all his money was gone.
“This is the end of my adventures,” John thought. “The money is all gone and there’s nowhere to take it from.” Not a single living soul spoke a word to me. And I didn’t hear any news here, neither simple nor outlandish. And now I have to turn home and ask for bread on the way, because it seems I don’t even have two pence left...”
And just as John wanted to take one last look at the Thames, and then turn home, the owner of the shop that stood opposite came up to him and spoke to him.
“I’m very curious to know who you are and what do you want here?” - said the shopkeeper. “I noticed that you stand here on the bridge every day.” Apparently you have nothing to sell, you are not asking for alms. So what are you doing here? Calm my curiosity if it's not a secret!
John hesitated. He didn’t want to tell the first person he met why he had been standing idle on London Bridge for so long. But he was a simple-minded man, not a master at inventing all sorts of tall tales and excuses, so he laid it all out.
“Eh, neighbor,” he began, “to tell the truth, I’m a simple village poor man.” For three nights in a row I dreamed that if I went and stood on this bridge, I would hear amazing news. But I didn’t receive any news and now I have to return home, because all my money has gone out.
The shopkeeper stared at John in amazement, then burst out laughing.
- What a smart head you are! - he finally said. “What, you dragged yourself from the village to London and stood on the bridge all this time just because of your stupid dream?” You won’t find such another simpleton in all of London! Ha ha ha! Now I will have something to tell my neighbors about and something to cheer up my old woman so that she will forget about her rheumatism in her legs.
And he burst out laughing again.
- Listen to me, you redneck! - continued the shopkeeper; he was a talker. “Last night, when I had already locked the shop and was getting ready to go home, some old man came up to me, all in rags, a tramp, probably, and said: “In the village of Sopham, in the county of Norfolk...” Yes, it seems, in Sopham, although I don’t remember exactly, I’ve never heard of this village. So, it means: “... in the village of Sofam behind the peddler’s house, under an old oak tree, a treasure is buried.” He said and walked away. Have you heard what news there is? And you're talking to me about a dream! So, maybe now you’ll run there, to what’s his name, Soffolk or Soham?
Before the shopkeeper had time to laugh at John to his heart’s content, he said “goodbye” and was off. And the shopkeeper decided that John had gone a little crazy, and stopped thinking about him any more.
John did not walk, but simply flew towards the house. The shopkeeper's words were ringing in his ears. All the way he thought about only one thing: about the old oak tree that grew behind his house. He knew him like the back of his hand. As a boy, he climbed it every day.
Finally, tired and hungry, he reached home. His wife was incredibly happy when she saw him safe and sound, and before she had time to greet him, she began to prepare his breakfast. But although John was dying to eat, he did not waste time eating.
- Bring me a shovel quickly, little wife! - he said. - The one we use to dig up the garden.
- Yes, here she is, John! - answered the wife. - Be grateful that I didn’t exchange it for bread. What do you need this shovel for now? Better eat! Although, to tell the truth, I have almost nothing to treat you with. As they say: Sip with a small spoon.
But John didn't hear her. He rushed out of the house and began digging the ground under the old oak tree.
- Poor thing! - the wife said to her two daughters (they had just entered the room to greet their father). - Poor guy... These London swindlers had nothing to take from him, so they took the last of his mind. Is there a lot of self-interest in it?
But what did she know?
Before John had time to dig a little, he immediately came across a large wooden chest, all stained with earth and almost rotten. John carried it into the house and opened it. Everyone was speechless with amazement when they looked into it. The chest contained silver bars, piles of gold coins, precious stones and rich jewelry made of pure gold.
Well, John didn’t think twice, bought himself a big house and lived happily ever after with his wife and children.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru