to the charcoal-burner’s son twenty years before.
He looked at Plavachek thoughtfully and at last he said:
“What’s done can’t be undone. However, young man, you can’t expect to be my son-in-law for nothing. If you want my daughter you must bring me for dowry three of the golden hairs of old Grandfather Knowitall.”
He thought to himself that this would be an impossible task and so would be a good way to get rid of an undesirable son-in-law.
Plavachek took leave of his bride and started off. He didn’t know which way to go. Who would know? Everybody talked about old Grandfather Knowitall, but nobody seemed to know where to find him. Yet Plavachek had a Fate for a godmother, so it wasn’t likely that he would miss the right road.
He traveled long and far, going over wooded hills and desert plains and crossing deep rivers. He came at last to a black sea.
There he saw a boat and an old ferryman.
“God bless you, old ferryman!” he said.
“May God grant that prayer, young traveler! Where are you going?”
“I’m going to old Grandfather Knowitall to get three of his golden hairs.”
“Oho! I have long been hunting for just such a messenger as you! For twenty years I have been ferrying people across this black sea and nobody has come to relieve me. If you promise to ask Grandfather Knowitall when my work will end, I’ll ferry you over.”
Plavachek promised and the boatman took him across.
Plavachek traveled on until he came to a great city that was in a state of decay. Before the city he met an old man who had a staff in his hand, but even with the staff he could scarcely crawl along.
“God bless you, old grandfather!” Plavachek said.
“May God grant that prayer, handsome youth! Where are you going?”
“I am going to old Grandfather Knowitall to get three of his golden hairs.”
“Indeed! We have been waiting a long time for just such a messenger as you! I must lead you at once to the king.”
So he took him to the king and the king said: “Ah, so you are going on an errand to Grandfather Knowitall! We have an apple-tree here that used to bear apples of youth. If any one ate one of those apples, no matter how aged he was, he’d become young again. But, alas, for twenty years now our tree has borne no fruit. If you promise to ask Grandfather Knowitall if there is any help for us, I will reward you handsomely.”
Plavachek gave the king his promise and the king bid him godspeed.
Plavachek traveled on until he reached another great city that was half in ruins. Not far from the city a man was burying his father, and tears as big as peas were rolling down his cheek.
“God bless you, mournful grave-digger!” Plavachek said.
“May God grant that prayer, kind traveler! Where are you going?”
“I’m going to old Grandfather Knowitall to get three of his golden hairs.”
“To Grandfather Knowitall! What a pity you didn’t come sooner! Our king has long been waiting for just such a messenger as you! I must lead you to him.”
So he took Plavachek to the king and the king said to him: “So you’re going on an errand to Grandfather Knowitall. We have a well here that used to flow with the water of life. If any one drank of it, no matter how sick he was, he would get well. Nay, if he were already dead, this water, sprinkled upon him, would bring him back to life. But, alas, for twenty years now the well has gone dry. If you promise to ask Grandfather Knowitall if there is help for us, I will reward you handsomely.”
Plavachek gave the king his promise and the king bid him godspeed.
After that Plavachek traveled long and far into a black forest. Deep in the forest he came upon a broad green meadow full of beautiful flowers and in its midst a golden palace glittering as though it were on fire. This was the palace of Grandfather Knowitall.
Plavachek entered and found nobody there but an old woman who sat spinning in a corner.
“Welcome, Plavachek,” she said. “I am delighted to see you again.”
He looked at the old woman and saw that she was his godmother with whom he had spent the night when he was carrying the letter to the palace.
“What has brought you here, Plavachek?” she asked.
“The king, godmother. He says I can’t be his son-in-law for nothing. I have to give a dowry. So he has sent me to old Grandfather Knowitall to get three of his golden hairs.”
The old woman smiled and said: “Do you know who Grandfather Knowitall is? Why, he’s the bright Sun who goes everywhere and sees everything. I am his mother. In the morning he’s a little lad, at noon he’s a grown man, and in the evening an old grandfather. I will get you three of the golden hairs from his golden head, for I must not be a godmother for nothing! But, my lad, you mustn’t remain where you are. My son is kind, but if he comes home hungry he might want to roast you and eat you for his supper. There’s an empty tub over there and I’ll just cover you with it.”
Plavachek begged his godmother to get from Grandfather Knowitall the answers for the three questions he had promised to ask.
“I will,” said the old woman, “and do you listen carefully to what he says.”
Suddenly there was the rushing sound of a mighty wind outside and the Sun, an old grandfather with a golden head, flew in by the western window. He sniffed the air suspiciously.
“Phew! Phew!” he cried. “I smell human flesh! Have you any one here, mother?”
“Star of the day, whom could I have here without your seeing him? The truth is you’ve been flying all day long over God’s world and your nose is filled with the smell of human flesh. That’s why you still smell it when you come home in the evening.”
The old man said nothing more and sat down to his supper.
After supper he laid his head on the old woman’s lap and fell sound asleep. The old woman pulled out a golden hair and threw it on the floor. It twanged like the string of a violin.
“What is it, mother?” the old man said. “What is it?”
“Nothing, my boy, nothing. I was asleep and had a wonderful dream.”
“What did you dream about, mother?”
“I dreamt about a city where they had a well of living water. If any one drank of it, no matter how sick he was, he would get well. Nay, if he were already dead, this water, sprinkled on him, would bring him back to life. For the last twenty years the well has gone dry. Is there anything to be done to make it flow again?”
“Yes. There’s a frog sitting on the spring that feeds the well. Let them kill the frog and clean out the well and the water will flow as before.”
When he fell asleep again the old woman pulled out another golden hair and threw it on the floor.
“What is it, mother?”
“Nothing,
