He touched the chest at the feet of the silver statue with his little black stone, and it was full of gold and silver money. “Pish!” says he; “and if this is what the rich man loves, why, so do not I.” And he shut down the lid again. Last of all he touched the chest at the feet of the leaden statue. [Illustration: The poor man finds that which is the best. ¶] In it was a book, and the letters on it said that whoever read within would know all that was worth the knowing. Beside the book was a pair of spectacles, and whoever set them astride of his nose might see the truth without having to rub the glasses with his pocket-handkerchief. But the best of all in the chest was an apple, and whoever ate of it would be cured of sorrow and sickness. “Hi!” said the younger brother, “but these are worth the having, for sure and certain.” And he put the spectacles upon his nose and the apple and the book in his pocket. Then off he went, and the spectacles showed him the way, although it was as crooked as sin and as black as night. So by and by he came out into the blessed sunlight again, and at the same place where he had gone in. Off he went to his own home as fast as his legs could carry him, and you can guess how the rich brother stared when he saw the poor brother back in that town again, with his eyesight as good as ever. As for the poor brother, he just turned his hand to being a doctor; and there has never been one like him since that day, for not only could he cure all sickness with his apple, but he could cure all sorrow as well. Money and fame poured in on him; and whenever trouble lit on his shoulders he just put on his spectacles and looked into the business, and then opened the book of wisdom and found how to cure it. So his life was as happy as the day was long; and a body can ask for no more than that in this world here below. One day the rich brother came and knocked at the other’s door. “Well, brother,” says he, “I am glad to see you getting along so well in the world. Let us let bygones be bygones and live together as we should, for I am sorry for what I did to you.” Well, that suited the younger brother well enough; he bore no malice against the other, for all that had been done had turned out for the best. All the same, he was more sure than ever now that mercy was better than greed. The elder brother twisted up his face at this, as though the words were sour; all the same, he did not argue the question, for what he had come for was to find why the world had grown so easy with the other all of a sudden. So in he came, and they lit their pipes and sat down by the stove together. He was a keen blade, was the elder brother, and it was not long before he had screwed the whole story out of the other. [Illustration: The rich man findeth that which he deserveth.] “Dear, dear, dear!” said he, “I only wish I could find a black pebble like that one of yours.”