"What do you want, Jacob?" said he.
"I would like," said Jacob, "to have a plough that can go by itself and
plough three furrows at once."
"That you shall have," said the red one. Then he thrust his hand into
his breeches pocket, and drew forth the prettiest little plough that you
ever saw. He stood it on the ground before Jacob, and it grew large as
you see it in the picture. "Plough away," said he, and then he went back
again whither he had come.
So Jacob laid his hands to the plough and--whisk!--away it went like
John Stormwetter's colt, with Jacob behind it. Out of the farm-yard they
went, and down the road, and so to the Herr Mayor's house, and behind
them lay three fine brown furrows, smoking in the sun.
When the Herr Mayor saw them coming he opened his eyes, you may be sure,
for he had never seen such a plough as that in all of his life before.
"And now," said Jacob, "I should like to marry Gretchen, if you
please."
At this the Herr Mayor hemmed and hawed and scratched his head again.
No; Jacob could not marry Gretchen yet, for the Herr Mayor had always
said and sworn that the man who married Gretchen should bring with him a
purse that always had two pennies in it and could never be emptied, no
matter how much was taken out of it.
[Illustration: Jacob and the Magic Plough]
Jacob did not know how about that; perhaps he could get it and perhaps
he could not. If such a thing was to be had, though, he would have it,
as sure as the Mecklenburg folks brew sour beer.
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