“卖皮哟!卖皮哟!谁要买皮?”他在街上喊。
所有的皮鞋匠和制革匠都跑过来，问他要多少价钱。
“每张卖一斗钱!”大克劳斯说。
“你发疯了吗?”他们说。“你以为我们的钱可以用斗量么?”
“卖皮哟!卖皮哟!谁要买皮?”他又喊起来。人家一问起他的皮的价钱，他老是回答说：“一斗钱。”
“他简直是拿我们开玩笑。”大家都说。于是鞋匠拿起皮条，制革匠拿起围裙，都向大克劳斯打来。
“卖皮哟!卖皮哟!”他们讥笑着他。“我们叫你有一张像猪一样流着鲜血的皮。滚出城去吧!”他们喊着。大克劳斯拼命地跑，因为他从来没有像这次被打得那么厉害。
“嗯，”他回到家来时说。“小克劳斯得还这笔债，我要把他活活地打死。”
但是在小克劳斯的家里，他的祖母恰巧死掉了。她生前对他一直很厉害，很不客气。虽然如此，他还是觉得很难过，所以他抱起这死女人，放在自己温暖的床上，看她是不是还能复活。他要使她在那床上停一整夜，他自己坐在墙角里的一把椅子上睡——他过去常常是这样。
当他夜里正在那儿坐着的时候，门开了，大克劳斯拿着斧头进来了。他知道小克劳斯的床在什么地方。他直向床前走去，用斧头在他老祖母的头上砍了一下。因为他以为这就是小克劳斯。
“你要知道，”他说，“你不能再把我当做一个傻瓜来耍了。”随后他也就回到家里去。
“这家伙真是一个坏蛋，”小克劳斯说。“他想把我打死。幸好我的老祖母已经死了，否则他会把她的一条命送掉。”
于是他给祖母穿上礼拜天的衣服，从邻人那儿借来一匹马，套在一辆车子上，同时把老太太放在最后边的座位上坐着。这样，当他赶着车子的时候，她就可以不至于倒下来。他们颠颠簸簸地走过树林。当太阳升起的时候，他们来到一个旅店的门口。小克劳斯在这儿停下来，走到店里去吃点东西。
店老板是一个有很多很多钱的人，他也是一个非常好的人，不过他的脾气很坏，好像他全身长满了胡椒和烟草。
“早安，”他对小克劳斯说。“你今天穿起漂亮衣服来啦。”
“不错，”小克劳斯说，“我今天是跟我的祖母上城里去呀：她正坐在外面的车子里，我不能把她带到这屋子里来。你能不能给她一杯蜜酒喝?不过请你把声音讲大一点，因为她的耳朵不太好。”
“好吧，这个我办得到，”店老板说，于是他倒了一大杯蜜酒，走到外边那个死了的祖母身边去。她僵直地坐在车子里。
“这是你孩子为你叫的一杯酒。”店老板说。不过这死妇人一句话也不讲，只是坐着不动。
“你听到没有?”店老板高声地喊出来。“这是你孩子为你叫的一杯酒呀!”
他又把这话喊了一遍，接着又喊了一遍。不过她还是一动也不动。最后他发起火来，把酒杯向她的脸上扔去。蜜酒沿着她的鼻子流下来，同时她向车子后边倒去，因为她只是放得很直，但没有绑得很紧。
“你看!”小克劳斯吵起来，并且向门外跑去，拦腰抱住店老板。“你把我的祖母打死了!你瞧，她的额角上有一个大洞。”
“咳，真糟糕!”店老板也叫起来，难过地扭着自己的双手。“这完全怪我脾气太坏!亲爱的小克劳斯，我给你一斗钱好吧，我也愿意安葬她，把她当做我自己的祖母一样。不过请你不要声张，否则我的脑袋就保不住了。那才不痛快呢!”
因此小克劳斯又得到了一斗钱。店老板还安葬了他的老祖母，像是安葬自己的亲人一样。
小克劳斯带着这许多钱回到家里，马上叫他的孩子去向大克劳斯借一个斗来。
“这是怎么一回事儿?”大克劳斯说。“难道我没有把他打死吗?我得亲眼去看一下。”他就亲自拿着斗来见小克劳斯。
“你从哪里弄到这么多的钱?”他问。当他看到这么一大堆钱的时候，他的眼睛睁得非常大。
“你打死的是我的祖母，并不是我呀，”小克劳斯说。“我已经把她卖了，得到一斗钱。”
“这个价钱倒是非常高。”大克劳斯说。于是他马上跑回家去，拿起一把斧头，把自己的老祖母砍死了。他把她装上车，赶进城去，在一位药剂师的门前停住，问他是不是愿意买一个死人。
“这是谁，你从什么地方弄到她的?”药剂师问。
“这是我的祖母，”大克劳斯说。“我把她砍死了，为的是想卖得一斗钱。”
“愿上帝救救我们!”药剂师说。“你简直在发疯!再不要讲这样的话吧，再讲你就会掉脑袋了。”于是他就老老实实地告诉他，他做的这桩事情是多么要不得，他是一个多么坏的人，他应该受到怎样的惩罚。大克劳斯吓了一跳，赶快从药房里跑出来，跳进车里，抽起马鞭，奔回家来。不过药剂师和所有在场的人都以为他是一个疯子，所以也就随便放他逃走了。
“你得还这笔债!”大克劳斯把车子赶上了大路以后说，“是的，小克劳斯，你得还这笔债!”他一回到家来，就马上找到一个最大的口袋，一直走向小克劳斯家里，说：“你又作弄了我一次!第一次我打死了我的马;这一次又打死了我的老祖母!这完全得由你负责。不过你别再想作弄我了。”于是他就把小克劳斯拦腰抱住，塞进那个大口袋里去，背在背上，大声对他说：“现在我要走了，要把你活活地淹死!”
到河边，要走好长一段路。小克劳斯才够他背的呢。这条路挨近一座教堂：教堂内正在奏着风琴，人们正在唱着圣诗，唱得很好听。大克劳斯把装着小克劳斯的大口袋在教堂门口放下。他想：不妨进去先听一首圣诗，然后再向前走也不碍事。小克劳斯既跑不出来，而别的人又都在教堂里，因此他就走进去了。
“咳，我的天!咳，我的天!”袋子里的小克劳斯叹了一口气。他扭着，挣着，但是他没有办法把绳子弄脱。这时恰巧有一位赶牲口的白发老人走过来，手中拿着一根长棒;他正在赶着一群公牛和母牛。那群牛恰巧踢着那个装着小克劳斯的袋子，把它弄翻了。
“咳，我的天!”小克劳斯叹了一口气，“我年纪还是这么轻，现在就已经要进天国了!”
“可是我这个可怜的人，”赶牲口的人说，“我的年纪已经这么老，到现在却还进不去呢!”
“那么请你把这袋子打开吧，”小克劳斯喊出声来。“你可以代替我钻进去，那么你就马上可以进天国了。”
“那很好，我愿意这样办!”赶牲口的人说。于是他就把袋子解开，小克劳斯就立刻爬出来了。
“你来看管这些牲口，好吗?”老人问。于是他就钻进袋子里去。小克劳斯把它系好，随后就赶着这群公牛和母牛走了。
过了不久，大克劳斯从教堂里走出来。他又把这袋子扛在肩上。他觉得袋子轻了一些;这是没有错的，因为赶牲口的老人只有小克劳斯一半重。
“现在背起他是多么轻啊!不错，这是因为我刚才听了一首圣诗的缘故。”
他走向那条又宽又深的河边，把那个装着赶牲口的老人的袋子扔到水里。他以为这就是小克劳斯了。所以他在后面喊：“躺在那儿吧!你再也不能作弄我了!”
于是他回到家来。不过当他走到一个十字路口的时候，忽然碰到小克劳斯赶着一群牲口。
“这是怎么一回事儿?”大克劳斯说。“难道我没有淹死你吗?”
“不错，”小克劳斯说，“大约半个钟头以前，你把我扔进河里去了。”
“不过你从什么地方得到这样好的牲口呢?”大克劳斯问。
“它们都是海里的牲口，”小克劳斯说，“我把全部的经过告诉你吧，同时我也要感谢你把我淹死。我现在走起运来了。你可以相信我，我现在真正发财了!我呆在袋子里的时候，真是害怕!当你把我从桥上扔进冷水里去的时候，风就在我耳朵旁边叫。我马上就沉到水底，不过我倒没有碰伤，因为那儿长着非常柔软的水草。我是落到草上的。马上这口袋自动地开了。一位非常漂亮的姑娘，身上穿着雪白的衣服，湿头发上戴着一个绿色的花环，走过来拉着我的手，对我说：‘你就是小克劳斯吗?你来了，我先送给你几匹牲口吧。沿着这条路，再向前走十二里，你还可以看到一大群——我把它们都送给你好了。’我这时才知道河就是住在海里的人们的一条大道。他们在海底上走，从海那儿走向内地，直到这条河的尽头。这儿开着那么多美丽的花，长着那么多新鲜的草。游在水里的鱼儿在我的耳朵旁滑过去，像这儿的鸟在空中飞过一样。那儿的人是多么漂亮啊!在那儿的山丘上和田沟里吃着草的牲口是多么好看啊!”
“那么你为什么又马上回到我们这儿来了呢?”大克劳斯问。“水里面要是那么好，我决不会回来!”
“咳，”小克劳斯回答说，“这正是我聪明的地方。你记得我跟你讲过，那位海里的姑娘曾经说：‘沿着大路再向前走十二里，’——她所说的路无非是河罢了，因为她不能走别种的路——那儿还有一大群牲口在等着我啦。不过我知道河流是怎样一种弯弯曲曲的东西——它有时这样一弯，有时那样一弯;这全是弯路，只要你能做到，你可以回到陆地上来走一条直路，那就是穿过田野再回到河里去。这样就可以少走六里多路，因此我也就可以早点得到我的海牲口了!”
“啊，你真是一个幸运的人!”大克劳斯说。“你想，假如我也走向海底的话，我能不能也得到一些海牲口?”
“我想是能够的。”小克劳斯回答说。“不过我没有气力把你背在袋子里走到河边，你太重了!但是假如你自己走到那儿，自己钻进袋子里去，我倒很愿意把你扔进水里去呢!”
“谢谢你!”大克劳斯说。“不过我走下去得不到海牲口的话，我可要结结实实地揍你一顿啦!这点请你注意。”
“哦，不要这样，不要这样厉害吧!”于是他们就一起向河边走去。那些牲口已经很渴了，它们一看到水，就拼命冲过去喝。
“你看它们简直等都等不及了!”小克劳斯说。“它们急着要回到水底下去呀!”
“是的，不过你得先帮助我!”大克劳斯说，“不然我就要结结实实地揍你一顿!”
这样，他就钻进一个大口袋里去，那个口袋一直是由一头公牛驮在背上的。
“请放一块石头到里面去吧，不然我就怕沉不下去啦。”大克劳斯说。
“这个你放心，”小克劳斯回答说，于是他装了一块大石头到袋里去，用绳子把它系紧。接着他就把它一推：哗啦!大克劳斯滚到河里去了，而且马上就沉到河底。
“我恐怕你找不到牲口了!”小克劳斯说。于是他就把他所有的牲口赶回家来。
小克劳斯和大克劳斯英文版：
Little Claus and Big Claus
IN a village there once lived two men who had the same name. They were both called Claus. One of them had four horses, but the other had only one; so to distinguish them, people called the owner of the four horses, “Great Claus,” and he who had only one, “Little Claus.” Now we shall hear what happened to them, for this is a true story.
Through the whole week, Little Claus was obliged to plough for Great Claus, and lend him his one horse; and once a week, on a Sunday, Great Claus lent him all his four horses. Then how Little Claus would smack his whip over all five horses, they were as good as his own on that one day. The sun shone brightly, and the church bells were ringing merrily as the people passed by, dressed in their best clothes, with their prayer-books under their arms. They were going to hear the clergyman preach. They looked at Little Claus ploughing with his five horses, and he was so proud that he smacked his whip, and said, “Gee-up, my five horses.”
“You must not say that,” said Big Claus; “for only one of them belongs to you.” But Little Claus soon forgot what he ought to say, and when any one passed he would call out, “Gee-up, my five horses!”
“Now I must beg you not to say that again,” said Big Claus; “for if you do, I shall hit your horse on the head, so that he will drop dead on the spot, and there will be an end of him.”
“I promise you I will not say it any more,” said the other; but as soon as people came by, nodding to him, and wishing him “Good day,” he became so pleased, and thought how grand it looked to have five horses ploughing in his field, that he cried out again, “Gee-up, all my horses!”
“I’ll gee-up your horses for you,” said Big Claus; and seizing a hammer, he struck the one horse of Little Claus on the head, and he fell dead instantly.
“Oh, now I have no horse at all,” said Little Claus, weeping. But after a while he took off the dead horse’s skin, and hung the hide to dry in the wind. Then he put the dry skin into a bag, and, placing it over his shoulder, went out into the next town to sell the horse’s skin. He had a very long way to go, and had to pass through a dark, gloomy forest. Presently a storm arose, and he lost his way, and before he discovered the right path, evening came on, and it was still a long way to the town, and too far to return home before night. Near the road stood a large farmhouse. The shutters outside the windows were closed, but lights shone through the crevices at the top. “I might get permission to stay here for the night,” thought Little Claus; so he went up to the door and knocked. The farmer’s wife opened the door; but when she heard what he wanted, she told him to go away, as her husband would not allow her to admit strangers. “Then I shall be obliged to lie out here,” said Little Claus to himself, as the farmer’s wife shut the door in his face. Near to the farmhouse stood a large haystack, and between it and the house was a small shed, with a thatched roof. “I can lie up there,” said Little Claus, as he saw the roof; “it will make a famous bed, but I hope the stork will not fly down and bite my legs;” for on it stood a living stork, whose nest was in the roof. So Little Claus climbed to the roof of the shed, and while he turned himself to get comfortable, he discovered that the wooden shutters, which were closed, did not reach to the tops of the windows of the farmhouse, so that he could see into a room, in which a large table was laid out with wine, roast meat, and a splendid fish. The farmer’s wife and the sexton were sitting at the table together; and she filled his glass, and helped him plenteously to fish, which appeared to be his favorite dish. “If I could only get some, too,” thought Little Claus; and then, as he stretched his neck towards the window he spied a large, beautiful pie,—indeed they had a glorious feast before them.
At this moment he heard some one riding down the road, towards the farmhouse. It was the farmer returning home. He was a good man, but still he had a very strange prejudice,—he could not bear the sight of a sexton. If one appeared before him, he would put himself in a terrible rage. In consequence of this dislike, the sexton had gone to visit the farmer’s wife during her husband’s absence from home, and the good woman had placed before him the best she had in the house to eat. When she heard the farmer coming she was frightened, and begged the sexton to hide himself in a large empty chest that stood in the room. He did so, for he knew her husband could not endure the sight of a sexton. The woman then quickly put away the wine, and hid all the rest of the nice things in the oven; for if her husband had seen them he would have asked what they were brought out for.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Little Claus from the top of the shed, as he saw all the good things disappear.
“Is any one up there?” asked the farmer, looking up and discovering Little Claus. “Why are you lying up there? Come down, and come into the house with me.” So Little Claus came down and told the farmer how he had lost his way and begged for a night’s lodging.
“All right,” said the farmer; “but we must have something to eat first.”
The woman received them both very kindly, laid the cloth on a large table, and placed before them a dish of porridge. The farmer was very hungry, and ate his porridge with a good appetite, but Little Claus could not help thinking of the nice roast meat, fish and pies, which he knew were in the oven. Under the table, at his feet, lay the sack containing the horse’s skin, which he intended to sell at the next town. Now Little Claus did not relish the porridge at all, so he trod with his foot on the sack under the table, and the dry skin squeaked quite loud. “Hush!” said Little Claus to his sack, at the same time treading upon it again, till it squeaked louder than before.
“Hallo! what have you got in your sack!” asked the farmer.
“Oh, it is a conjuror,” said Little Claus; “and he says we need not eat porridge, for he has conjured the oven full of roast meat, fish, and pie.”
“Wonderful!” cried the farmer, starting up and opening the oven door; and there lay all the nice things hidden by the farmer’s wife, but which he supposed had been conjured there by the wizard under the table. The woman dared not say anything; so she placed the things before them, and they both ate of the fish, the meat, and the pastry.
Then Little Claus trod again upon his sack, and it squeaked as before. “What does he say now?” asked the farmer.
“He says,” replied Little Claus, “that there are three bottles of wine for us, standing in the corner, by the oven.”
So the woman was obliged to bring out the wine also, which she had hidden, and the farmer drank it till he became quite merry. He would have liked such a conjuror as Little Claus carried in his sack. “Could he conjure up the evil one?” asked the farmer. “I should like to see him now, while I am so merry.”
“Oh, yes!” replied Little Claus, “my conjuror can do anything I ask him,—can you not?” he asked, treading at the same time on the sack till it squeaked. “Do you hear? he answers ’Yes,’ but he fears that we shall not like to look at him.”
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