Once upon a time, even across the Peruvian Sea, where the little piglet with the short tail was prowling, there was a poor man. This poor man had as many children as the rosta goose, one more.
Well, kid, that was enough, but there was no snacks. Two little fistfuls, so big they could hardly be seen out of the ground: that was the poor man's farm, not one in the roundness of the earth.
The poor man and his wife wondered a lot, and said goodbye a lot, how they could support all those children. They had a sad night and a sad day. They tried everything, but they had no luck.
Hey, for a poor man's luck is poor! The poor man once said:
- Wife, I'm going to take these useless fists into the woods to see if God will show me something.
He took the oxen in a little cart and went into the forest. As he gathered dry twigs and piled them on the cart, what his eyes saw! In a fair glade two fair gentlemanly children, a boy and a girl, were playing.
He goes to the children and talks to them, and learns from them that the girl is the daughter of the king of the day after the sun, and the boy is the son of the king of the day after the sun. For you shall know that in this very clearing was the border between the kingdom of the sun and the kingdom of the south.
As they were talking, the children saw the two oxen, and the prince was so fond of the carcasses that he was soon on the poor man, and would not leave him alone until he had sold the oxen.
The poor man did not want to sell the oxen in any case, but the child talked so much that his father would pay for it in one way or another, so that the poor man was saved from the oxen.
The prince said:
- Don't be sad, my brother! Give me the oxen, and come to my father tomorrow, and he will pay the price honestly.
Very well, the prince is driving the oxen away. And the poor man loaded the cart with dry twigs and boughs, and pulled it home with great agony.
After all, he was at home haddelhadd! The poor woman cried in anger, and cursed that they had these two little fists, and her master was mad to eat them. Now they can go away with all these ragged children, they have nothing on the face of the earth.
The poor man had comforted his wife enough to keep her peace. He had given the oxen to the right place, and she would certainly get a good price for them. Their miserable fate might be turned to good account by this fair. For he might as well have spoken to the black earth.
The poor man had no home to stay in. He set out that very day for the court of the Sunset King. Fortunately for him, the king's court was not far away. The next morning he arrived there.
Well, as soon as he enters the courtyard, there is the prince playing with his two little oxen. He says, "Bye-bye, Pretty, Flower, hi ho! As he'd just heard from the plough-diggers.
But as soon as the poor man saw the prince, he ran to the front with great joy. He took his hand and led him up to the palace.
- Come, uncle, come! But I say to your Grace, whatever my father offers, let him accept nothing but the all-encompassing mill.
The poor man goes to the king and tells him that he was the owner of the two little oxen.
- "Well, then," said the king, "let him ask for anything, for my son takes great delight in oxen.
There on the table was the all-purpose grinder. It was like a child's toy. "Well," thinks the poor man to himself, "I'll get a pretty price for my fists if I ask for this mill. I see that instead of a toy, the king wants to give me a toy. But God help him, wooden cross, he wants nothing else. Let the gentleman have his fill."
Tell the King:
- My king, I cannot wish for anything great for those two little fists, give me that mill.
You should have seen how the King's colour has changed! He said to the poor man:
- Ask for anything! I'll give you as much gold as you can carry, but don't covet this mill!
"So," thought the poor man to himself, "this will not be a child's game, if the king parted with him with such a heavy heart!"
He said again with great humility:
- Oh, my lord my king, what think you that I should wish for something worthwhile for those useless fists. Give me this mill, that my children may have something to play with.
The king loved his son very much, so he didn't want to displease the poor man. He gave him the mill. But when the poor man went out, he still cried out for him:
- Do you hear, you poor man, if you regret the sale, bring back the mill, I'll gladly give you something else instead!
Says the prince charming, when they were in the courtyard:
- Well, uncle, you were right not to accept anything else.
- 'Oh, don't tell me, my lord,' said the poor man, 'I dare not go home. My wife, when I went home without my fists, ate me with her mouth. Well, even now, if I take this useless toy home.
- And I say to your serpent that he should not be sorry, but go home in peace. He shall lay the mill on the table, and say to it, "My all-merry miller, give me gold money, roast meat, and boiled meat." He will see your serpent, and all that he desires will just pour out of him. When he has had enough of her walking, just say to him, "My go-anywhere miller, that's enough!" The mill is about to stop.
Oh, my God, the poor man rejoiced, he could not find his place in his unbridled joy. He thanked the king's knave for his great kindness to him. Then, taking the mill under his arm, he hurried home, his feet barely touching the ground.
On the way home, as he was hurrying along, he suddenly saw something terribly large and black coming towards him. He could not imagine what on earth it was. The blackness came closer and closer, and Lord Jesus, what was it?! It was a big black hat.
He looks, he looks at what's under the hat. Well, under the hat was a man. The poor man could barely walk, he was as weak as an autumn fly. The poor man was in a good humour. He asks jokingly:
- Hey, brother, isn't the hat on your head?
- "Don't mock me," says the man, very sadly, "give me a loaf of bread, because I haven't eaten for three days!
Says the poor man:
- I'd give you a good heart, brother, but I don't have one.
He dug through all his pockets, so that the man could see that he really had nothing. But suddenly he remembers that he has a miracle apple. He's going to see if the prince is telling the truth.
She puts the mill on the ground and tells him:
- My all-pervading mill, bring me all kinds of food and drink!
He hadn't even said a word, the mill began to roar, and all kinds of expensive food and drink poured out of it, so that the eye could not help but drink it in. It grinded enough for a village in the blink of an eye. He only stopped grinding when the poor man said:
- Enough, you all-powerful pig!
Now, they eat, drink and indulge in all kinds of good things. They're in a fancy mood. They sing, they dance, and then they sit down again, they talk, and as words are spoken, the man in the big hat says:
- For, my brother, this mill is a clever piece of work, but my hat is no dog either. I'll say one thing, and make it two: let's change.
- 'I am not out of my wits,' says the poor man, 'when this mill will support my whole race for two days. The kend's hat is only good for a scarecrow.
- Is that so?! - says the man with the big hat. - Because he's about to see something wonderful.
Then he takes off his hat and says:
- Hat, fire!
Now, if you had been there, you would have seen something you've never seen before. It didn't end till the man said:
- Enough.
- "It's a good thing," says the poor man, "but I don't want it, because it might starve me to death.
But the man with the big hat talked so much about how he could make such and such use of the hat that he still turned the poor man out of his mind, and they exchanged. Then they parted.
This one and that one went their way, but the poor man didn't go a good chase, he regretted the exchange. And as he drew near to his house, he was filled with sorrow and bitterness, that God had so taken away his wits.
But, to keep my word, the man with the big hat also had a stick. And when they parted, he left that stick on the ground. The poor man picked up the stick. He thought it would be good if he was attacked somewhere on the road.
Well, as I'm perennially saying goodbye to you, the stick sounds:
- Why do you grieve, my sweet master?
The poor man is looking at you. "Nini, is that the stick talking?!" The stick asks again:
- Why do you grieve, my sweet master? The poor man replies:
- I mourn for my wits, which were not, and I mourn for the mill, which they have foolishly exchanged.
In the blink of an eye, the stick swung out of his hand. He slipped away somewhere, God knows where. Suffice it to say, he turned back a minute or two later, bringing with him the all-powerful millstone.
But now, indeed, the poor man had no reason to have a dome. But he had honour at home, when he showed what his mill could do. But they were so rich that each of his sons took six oxen to the plough, and even the dog was fed with loaves of bread instead of bread.
Well, time has passed. One day the poor man is standing outside the gate (poor man, indeed!), and he sees a gentleman coming down the street with his wife and son. He looks and looks, and the gentleman is the king.
He goes up to them, greets them properly, and asks:
- Where, indeed, sire, where are they going with such infantry?
- 'Hey,' says the king, 'we're in big trouble! The King of the North has taken my country, and now we are going away, we have no place to stay.
Says the poor man:
- Don't be sorry, my king, I'll help you with your troubles, but come into my poor house.
They go into the house, and there the poor man makes a good supper, but so good that the king and the queen lick their lips afterwards. And when the guests were quieted, he put on his great hat, took his staff in his hand, and went in search of the army of the King of the North.
For it was not long before he had to look for them, for the soldiers of the king of the north had so overrun the land of the sun that the sky was black with them. The poor man went to the top of a hill, and there he took off his hat, threw it at the enemy, and cried:
- Hat, fire! He also sent the stick to hit them on the head, they would not limp there.
Oh, dear God, it's been a terrible devastation all at once! Not even a herald of the army of the king of the north was left. So the poor man turned around, went home and told the king that it was all right, he could go back to his palace.
The king could not believe his eyes when he saw the terrible devastation, that there was not a single enemy in his country, not even one. He bought the hat and the staff from the poor man. He gave him treasure in abundance, but so much that it took a week to carry the many, many pieces of gold and silver in six six-horse wagons.
In the meantime the prince grew up, and married the princess of the day. There was a great dynomdan, a wedding feast. There, too, the one poor man walked in front of the two from Calais. He still walks, if he can. Tomorrow he shall be your guest.
(Elek Benedek: Hungarian tale- and mythology Volume 1)
