(1838)
There was once a merchant who was so rich that he could have paved the
whole street with gold, and would even then have had enough for a small
alley. But he did not do so; he knew the value of money better than to use it
in this way. So clever was he, that every shilling he put out brought him a
crown; and so he continued till he died. His son inherited his wealth, and he
lived a merry life with it; he went to a masquerade every night, made kites
out of five pound notes, and threw pieces of gold into the sea instead of
stones, making ducks and drakes of them. In this manner he soon lost all his
money. At last he had nothing left but a pair of slippers, an old dressing-
gown, and four shillings. And now all his friends deserted him, they could
not walk with him in the streets; but one of them, who was very good-
natured, sent him an old trunk with this message, “Pack up!” “Yes,” he said,
“it is all very well to say ‘pack up,’” but he had nothing left to pack up,
therefore he seated himself in the trunk. It was a very wonderful trunk; no
sooner did any one press on the lock than the trunk could fly. He shut the lid
and pressed the lock, when away flew the trunk up the chimney with the
merchant’s son in it, right up into the clouds. Whenever the bottom of the
trunk cracked, he was in a great fright, for if the trunk fell to pieces he
would have made a tremendous somerset over the trees. However, he got
safely in his trunk to the land of Turkey. He hid the trunk in the wood under
some dry leaves, and then went into the town: he could so this very well, for
the Turks always go about dressed in dressing-gowns and slippers, as he
was himself. He happened to meet a nurse with a little child. “I say, you
Turkish nurse,” cried he, “what castle is that near the town, with the
windows placed so high?”
