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Children's Stories — The Magic Filddle. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.
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At QVC, shopping is more than just checking out. It's discovering something new every day. Start with today's special value. Then explore exciting finds across the brands and categories you love, from beauty and fashion to home, culinary, and outdoor living. Now at QVC.com A farmer once had a servant who worked for him three years without being paid any wages. The servant did his work well and faithfully, and was the first of the farmer's help to get up in the morning and the last to go to bed at night. If there was any hard work to be done, which no one else would do, he was always ready to undertake it. He never made any complaint and never failed to be good-natured and contented. But at last, it came into the man's head that he wouldn't continue without paying any
longer. So, he went to his master and said, I have worked hard for you a long time and now I think I should have some money for my labor. The farmer was miserly and not altogether honest. And as he knew that his man was very simple-hearted, he took out his purse and gave him three pants. The reservoir pan said, he, for each year you have served me. The servant thought three pants was a great deal of money to have and he said to himself, why should I work here in longer? I can now travel into the wide world and make myself married. Then, with his money jingling in his pocket, he set out roaming over hill and valley. As he tramped singing along the road, a little dwarf hopped out of the wayside bush and asked, what makes you so happy, sir? Why, what should make me don't heart it, sir, the man? I am some denelf and rich in purse, helped save up the pay for three years' work and
held it all safe in my pocket. How much may the counter-tune choir do the wolf? Full three pants replied the servant, listen, said the dwarf. I wish you would give the three pants to me, I am very poor. When the man heard this, he was so sorry for the wolf that he gave him the three pants and the little dwarf said, has he been so kind to me, I will grant any wish that you make care to make. So choose whatever you like. How, sir, the servant, you are a wonder worker, I see. And greatly rejoiced, as is good luck. He paused to think what he must want it. I like many things better than man he said he. Now if you could give me a fiddle that would set everyone dancing on here's me play on it, that would please me more than anything else I can think of. All right, sir, the dwarf, you can have what you ask for. And out of the bag he carried, he put a fiddle and bow and handed them to his companion.
Heart alive, put more on one desire, said the servant. Then the dwarf went his way and the hired man walked on singing as before. But he hadn't gone far when an old man called to him from a roadside field. The old man had an axe in his hands and was standing under a grey turk tree that he had begun to cut down. This work is too hard for me, sir, the old man, but a stout fellow like you would make nothing of it and if you will finish chopping through this three trunk, I will pay you five shillings. Give me the axe, sir, the servant, I'm quite willing to earn a little money for mine is all gone and if you office coat and went to work. Buying by the oak crashed to the ground. There, sir, the servant, now I'll take my five shillings and be stepping along. I did not think you could do the work so soon or I wouldn't have offered you so much, sir, the old man. Well, that is no fault of mine, the servant replied.
Five shillings is more than the work is worth, I'll give you three shillings and that is a great plenty. No, I will take nothing less than what you agreed to give me in the first place, the servant declared. Then you will not get anything, sir, the other. We will see about that, was the servant's response and he took up his fiddle and began playing and the old man began to dance. How is this, the old man cried, is that fiddle enchanted? Yes, sir, the servant. Then, for heaven's sake, my good fellow, plain or more, shouted the old man. I don't want to dance, my bones are too stiff for me to be springing about like this. Master, master, do let the fiddle alone. You don't like dancing, huh, laughter, servant? Well, it's good enough for you after treating me so mainly. And he played away more briskly than ever. A pity, a pity, bag the old man and I will give you your money.
So the servant stopped fiddling. Then the old man handed over the five shillings. But he was so angry that as soon as he had robbed his aching joints, he hurried to the town muttering as he went. The miserable fiddler just wait, I will get even with him. As soon as he reached the town, he complained to the constables that he had been robbed. You will know the rascal or roud me, easy enough, said the old man. For he's always singing and he carries a violin under his arm. The constables set off at once in search of the rogue, and presently decote him and brought him before the court to be tried. That is he, said the old man. That is the very fellow who stole my five shillings. No, sir, the servant. I did not steal. You gave me the money for playing a tune to you on my fiddle. What, as claim the judge, five shillings for a tune on a fiddle, that's not at all likely,
I fear you are a liar as well as a thief. I speak the truth, said the servant. Herb and defand us screamed the old man. His lies are as thick as flies on the wall. He stole my money, and you can't believe a word he says. The reason I said the judge, you deserve hanging. Then the judge turned to the officers and said, take the five shillings from him and give them to the old man, and after that you may conduct a culprit to the gallows. So the officers took away the servant's money and marched him off to the gallows, while the old man cried after him, you backbond, you dog of a fiddler. Now you will get your just desserts. A crowd followed the culprit to the place of execution, and your officers were about to put the rope around his neck. When he said to the judge, my lord grant me one last request. What is it, ask the judge? Only this replied the servant, that I may play on my fiddle once more.
Very well, reply the judge, play away. Oh, no, no, shout it, old man, for mercy say, don't let him play his fiddle. But the judge said. Not only for this once, he would soon have done. Then bang me fast, oh bang me fast, before he begins, cried the old man. The servant wasted no time in sawing a tune, and at the first crepe all the people began to wag their heads. He's accuser and the judge. The officers, the jailer, the hangman, and everyone else who was within hearing. They couldn't help themselves. At the second crepe, they all lifted their legs, and the hangman let go his hold of the honest servant to make ready to dance. At the first crepe, they, one and all, leaped into the air and began to paper about all the young fat and lean, dust as hard as they could. Even the dogs got up on their hind legs and pranced about with rest. The dancing was merry and pleasant enough at first, but when it had gone on for a while
and there seemed to be no end to the playing or leaping, the people began to cry out for the servant to stop fiddling. But that it would not do till the judge had promised he should not be hand, and the old man had given back to him his five shillings. So the judge promised, and the old man handed over the man, then the servant tucked the fiddle under his arm and storted off again on his travels, and the people who had been dancing around the gallows heard him singing as he walked down the street out of the town. And of the magic fiddle. It's Paul and America, make it count at the Ram Drive-In to Fall Sales event, make it powerful with our strongest Ram 1500 ever, make it move with the Ram Heavy Duty with an available Cummins diesel, and make it go to the distance with a 10 year or 100,000 mile power train limited warranty. Hurry and now for great deals during the Ram Drive-In to Fall Sales event, excludes fully electric vehicles applied to 2026 model year vehicles non-transferable, visit MoPAR.com
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