They came in crowds, and the kettle was passed from hand to hand, and
they were allowed to examine it all over, and even to look inside. Then
Jimmu took it back, and setting it on the platform, commanded it to
become a tanuki. In an instant the handle began to change into a head,
and the spout into a tail, while the four paws appeared at the sides.
“Dance,” said Jimmu, and the tanuki did his steps, and moved first on
one side and then on the other, till the people could not stand still
any longer, and began to dance too. Gracefully he led the fan dance,
and glided without a pause into the shadow dance and the umbrella
dance, and it seemed as if he might go on dancing for ever. And so very
likely he would, if Jimmu had not declared he had danced enough, and
that the booth must now be closed.
Day after day the booth was so full it was hardly possible to enter it,
and what the neighbour foretold had come to pass, and Jimmu was a rich
man. Yet he did not feel happy. He was an honest man, and he thought
that he owed some of his wealth to the man from whom he had bought the
kettle. So, one morning, he put a hundred gold pieces into it, and
hanging the kettle once more on his arm, he returned to the seller of
it. “I have no right to keep it any longer,” he added when he had ended
his tale, “so I have brought it back to you, and inside you will find a
hundred gold pieces as the price of its hire.”
The man thanked Jimmu, and said that few people would have been as
honest as he. And the kettle brought them both luck, and everything
went well with them till they died, which they did when they were very
old, respected by everyone.
[Adapted from Japanische Mährchen]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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