Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Fairy tales; Fantasy literature
The world never saw the like of that wrestling-match betwixt the
king and the Demon, for they struggled and strove together from
the seventh hour in the morning to the sunset in the evening, and
during that time the sky was clouded over as black as night, and
the lightning forked and shot, and the thunder roared and bellowed,
and the earth shook and quaked.
But at last the king gave the enemy an under twist, and flung him
down on the earth so hard that the apples fell from the trees; and
then, panting and straining, he held the evil one down, knee on
neck. Thereupon the sky presently cleared again, and all was as
pleasant as a spring day.
King Solomon bound the Demon with spells, and made him serve him
for seven years. First, he had him build a splendid palace, the
like of which was not to be seen within the bounds of the seven
rivers; then he made him set around the palace a garden, such as I
for one wish I may see some time or other. Then, when the Demon had
done all that the king wished, the king conjured him into a bottle,
corked it tightly, and set the royal seal on the stopper. Then he
took the bottle a thousand miles away into the wilderness, and,
when no man was looking, buried it in the ground, and this is the
way the story begins.
* * * * *
Well, the years came and the years went, and the world grew older
and older, and kept changing (as all things do but two), so that
by-and-by the wilderness where King Solomon had hid the bottle
became a great town, with people coming and going, and all as busy
as bees about their own business and other folks’ affairs.
Among these towns-people was a little Tailor, who made clothes for
many a worse man to wear, and who lived all alone in a little house
with no one to darn his stockings for him, and no one to meddle
with his coming and going, for he was a bachelor.
The little Tailor was a thrifty soul, and by hook and crook had
laid by enough money to fill a small pot, and then he had to
bethink himself of some safe place to hide it. So one night he took
a spade and a lamp and went out in the garden to bury his money.
He drove his spade into the ground--and click! He struck something
hard that rang under his foot with a sound as of iron. “Hello!”
said he, “what have we here?” and if he had known as much as you
and I do, he would have filled in the earth, and tramped it down,
and have left that plate of broth for somebody else to burn his
mouth with.
As it was, he scraped away the soil, and then he found a box of
adamant, with a ring in the lid to lift it by. The Tailor clutched
the ring and bent his back, and up came the box with the damp
earth sticking to it. He cleaned the mould away, and there he saw,
written in red letters, these words:
“_Open not._”
[Illustration]
You may be sure that after he had read these words he was not long
in breaking open the lid of the box with his spade.
Inside the first box he found a second, and upon it the same words:
“_Open not._”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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