When it was time for sleep, the guest stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for a pillow. When the innkeeper thought his guest was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly draw it away and lay another in its place. The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a long time; and now, just as the innkeeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried: “_Cudgel! Out of the sack!_” Instantly the little Cudgel came forth, and fell on the innkeeper, and gave him a sound thrashing. The host cried for mercy. But the louder he cried, so much the more heavily the Cudgel beat time on his back, until at length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, “If you do not give back the Little Table that sets itself, and the Gold-Ass, the dance shall begin afresh.” “Oh, no,” cried the host, quite humbly, “I will gladly bring out everything, only make the accursed Kobold creep back into the sack!” Then said the apprentice, “I will let mercy take the place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again!” So he cried: “_Cudgel! Into the sack!_” and let him have rest. Next morning, the turner went home to his father with the Wishing-Table, and the Gold-Ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign parts. “Dear Father,” said he, “I have become a turner.” “A skilled trade,” said the father. “What have you brought back with you from your travels?” “A precious thing, dear Father,” replied the son, “a Cudgel in the sack.” “What!” cried the father, “a Cudgel! That’s worth your trouble, indeed! From every tree you can cut one for yourself.” “But not one like this, dear Father. If I say: “‘_Cudgel! Out of the sack!_’ the Cudgel springs out and leads any one, who means ill by me, a weary dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for fair weather. Look you, with this Cudgel have I got back the Wishing-Table and the Gold-Ass, which the thievish innkeeper took away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the bargain.” The old tailor would not quite believe, but nevertheless got the relatives together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room, and led in the Gold-Ass, and said to his brother, “Now, dear Brother, speak to him.” The miller said: “_Bricklebrit!_” and instantly the gold pieces fell down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the Ass did not stop until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more. (I can see in your face that you also would have liked to be there!) Then the turner brought the Little Table, and said, “Now, dear Brother, speak to it.” And scarcely had the carpenter said: “_Little Table! Set thyself!_”