before had predestined his daughter to the son of the woodcutter. He pondered and pondered, and then he says: “What has happened cannot be changed, but for all that, thou canst not be my son-in-law for nothing; if thou wishest to have my daughter thou must bring her for dowry three golden hairs of Grandfather Know-All. He thought that in this way he would be quite certain to get rid of his unwelcome son-in-law.
Plavachek bade farewell to his wife, and went whither and where? I know not; but, having a Fate for his godmother, it was easy for him to find the right way. He went long and far, over hill and dale, over broad and ford, until he came to a black sea. There he sees a boat and a ferryman upon it. “Hail to thee, in the Lord’s name, old ferryman!” “The same to you, young wayfarer! Whither away, then, by this road?” “To Grandfather Know-All for three golden hairs.” “Ho, ho! for such a messenger I have long been waiting. These twenty years have I been ferrying here and no one comes to set me free. Promise me to ask Grandfather Know-All when will be the end of my serfdom, and I will ferry thee over.” Plavachek promised, and the ferryman ferried him over.
After this he came to a certain great city, but it was all gone to rack and ruin. Before the city he meets a little old man, who held a staff in his hand, and scarcely crawled along. “Hail to thee, in the Lord’s name, oh! grey-haired old grandfather.” “The same to thee, my fine young fellow! And whither away by this road?” To Grandfather Know-All for three golden hairs.” *Ay! ay! for such a messenger we have long been waiting here; so I must conduct thee at once to our lord the king.” When they came there, said the king: “I hear thou art on a message to Grandfather Know-All. We had here an apple tree; it bore apples that made one young again; if any man ate one, though he were on the verge of the grave, he grew young again, and was like a stripling. But now for the last twenty years the apple tree has borne no fruit. Wilt thou promise me to ask Grandfather Know-All if there is any help? I will reward thee royally.” Plavachek promised, and the king graciously let him go forward.
After this he again came to another great city, but it was half overthrown. Not far from the city a son was burying his dead father, and tears like peas kept rolling down his cheeks. “Hail to thee, in God’s name, melancholy gravedigger!” said Plavachek. “The same to you, worthy wayfarer. Whither away, then, by this road?” “I go
