5 THE LITTLE WOODEN HORSE SEEKS HIS FORTUNE The little wooden horse was more frightened than he had ever been in his life, particularly when the little old woman took down the axe that was hanging on the wall of the barn and set him down on the floor. ‘Well, this is too bad!’ said the little wooden horse. ‘Here am I, a quiet little horse, whose only wish is to serve my master, going to be chopped up for firewood and put in an old woman’s copper!’ And just as the little old woman raised the axe to split him in two he made a dash for the door, and was out in the forest before you could count five. The axe sank deep into the floor, and there was the little old woman pulling and tugging to get it out so that she could run after the little wooden horse and chop him up for firewood. The little wooden horse didn’t stop to be caught this time. He saw that the cottage door was fast now, so he hurried away to hide among the trees, where the little old woman could not find him. ‘Well, well!’ panted the little wooden horse. ‘Now whatever on earth am I to do? Here am I, a quiet little horse, torn away from my master and sent out into the wide world alone!’ He sat down under a tree to think, for his four little wooden legs were trembling so violently that all his wheels rattled. He knew he could not go back to the cottage, for his life was not safe there, and who knew how long he would have to wait until Uncle Peder was well again? ‘And what shall we do then?’ said the little wooden horse to himself. ‘No food, no money, once we have spent the money we get for the wooden horse my master will make for the little girl!’ He wondered if he should go back to the little girl himself. But, no; it was a new horse that she had asked for, and the spotted rocking horse would grind him to powder. ‘I must go and seek my fortune,’ said the little wooden horse. He thought how splendid it would be to come back to Uncle Peder full of coins. He would take off his head and pour out the money through the hole in his neck. Then they would both be rich and happy, and Uncle Peder would only make toys for fun, and for poor children who had none. ‘For I am strong, and a quiet little horse,’ said the little wooden horse. ‘I ought to make my fortune very quickly.’ He looked sadly back at the cottage window behind which Uncle Peder lay in bed, and then trundled away through the forest to make his fortune. The little wooden horse trundled through the forest for two days and two nights, and still he hadn’t made his fortune. In fact, there was not a single coin inside his little wooden body, and nobody had spoken to him on the road. By and by he fell in with some men in blue smocks, leading four horses. The little wooden horse tucked himself in beside the horses and asked where they were going, because he was very lonely with nobody to speak to, so far away from Uncle Peder, left behind in the forest. ‘Why, we are going to help Farmer Max with his haymaking,’ said the horses. ‘We go round to all the farmers in turn with our masters.’ ‘Do you earn a lot of money like that?’ asked the little wooden horse. ‘Our masters do,’ said the horses. ‘We get a good feed at midday and when we go home. After all, what is money to us?’ ‘Could I come and work too?’ asked the little wooden horse, who wanted some money very badly. All the horses laughed good-naturedly. ‘Why, if you want to!’ they said. At Farmer Max’s the men signed a paper agreeing to work for three days for Farmer Max and to accept the payment he offered them. They went up one by one to sign the paper. The little wooden horse followed them. All the men roared with laughter when they saw the little wooden horse following them to sign the paper. Farmer Max laughed loudest of them all. ‘Well, what do you want, my little wooden horse?’ he asked, laughing through his great black beard. ‘I want to work for three days for money, like the others,’ said the little wooden horse. ‘I am strong, and a quiet little horse. I can work very well.’ At that Farmer Max laughed louder than ever, but he sent the little wooden horse into the fields with the horses and the other men, and the haymaking began. The men soon stopped laughing when they saw how hard the little wooden horse could work – how he harnessed himself to the heaviest carts and helped the horses pull the biggest loads. Wherever the work was heaviest, there he was, pulling, loading, straining, doing his best, making the other horses look lazy beside him. All the while Farmer Max strode to and fro, shouting through his great black beard, not laughing now, but ordering the men on harshly, cracking his whip at the horses, telling everyone to work harder and do better. But most of all he shouted at the little wooden horse, who was working harder than anyone there. At the end of the day the men led their horses home, but Farmer Max took the little wooden horse into one of his own stables and locked him in for the night. The little wooden horse was so tired he fell asleep directly, dreaming of Uncle Peder and all the money he was going to get when the haymaking was over. The next morning he was early in the fields. The other horses welcomed the little wooden horse, who helped them so bravely at the heaviest loads. ‘Why doesn’t Farmer Max use his own horses for the haymaking?’ asked the little wooden horse at dinner-time. ‘They are all so thin and poorly fed they aren’t strong enough,’ the other horses told him. ‘It is cheaper for him to use us. Our masters don’t like coming here, but it is only for three days, and the money is quite good.’ At the end of the third day when the men lined up to get their money they patted and praised the little wooden horse, who was with them, waiting for his money too. When he had paid the men Farmer Max burst out laughing again. ‘What does a little wooden horse want with money?’ he said, and was going to put away his purse when the men stopped him. ‘You must pay the little wooden horse!’ they said angrily. ‘We don’t know where he came from, but he worked better than any of our horses, and he must have his money too.’ At that the farmer’s eyes grew crafty. ‘Look here, my little wooden horse,’ he said, ‘how would you like to stay on with me a little while and earn more money? I see you are a strong little horse, and a quiet one. I could find plenty of work for you on my farm.’ The little wooden horse thanked Farmer Max, and said he would like to stay on for another week and earn some more money. So he said goodbye to the men and the other horses and stayed with Farmer Max. For a whole week the little wooden horse worked as he had never worked before. Farmer Max kept him busy from morning till night, pulling such heavy loads that sometimes he was afraid his little wheels would come off. He went to bed so tired he could hardly dream, but he thought quite a lot about Uncle Peder and the wonderful surprise he was going to give him when the coins rolled out of his neck into Uncle Peder’s lap. At the end of the week he asked Farmer Max for his money; but Farmer Max said, ‘Well, now, my little wooden horse, how would you like to stay still another week since you work so well, and earn still some more money?’ The little wooden horse thought he would like to earn some more money, but the work was very hard and the days were long. Still, he agreed to stay another week with Farmer Max, who worked him harder than ever all day long, and locked him into a tumbledown stable at night. At the end of the week he went to Farmer Max and asked for his money, but again the farmer asked him to stay another week. And so it went on, till the little wooden horse had worked six weeks for Farmer Max, but had never had a penny in payment, which troubled him very much, as he wanted to get a lot of money for Uncle Peder. At last he went to the farmer and said he didn’t want to work any longer, but would like to have his money and go away. Farmer Max roared with laughter, so long and so loudly that the little wooden horse grew angry, and although he was a quiet little horse, he stamped on the floor with his four little green wheels (now caked and muddy from the farm) and asked for his money at once. Farmer Max then told the little wooden horse that he had never intended to give him a penny, but he wasn’t going to lose him! Oh, no; he was far too good a worker! So he took him by the head and locked him up again in the tumbledown stable, where tears of anger ran down the nose of the little wooden horse as he thought of Uncle Peder and the money that would never be his. Day after day Farmer Max drove the little wooden horse out at dawn and worked him till sunset. Night after night he locked him up and went away chuckling at the thought of all the hard work the little wooden horse was doing for nothing. He meant to keep him for ever and ever. But although he was so tired by the end of the day that he could scarcely trundle home, the little wooden horse spent half his night making a hole in the back of his stable, for even if he could not get his money he meant to escape. Every night he scrabbled and burrowed till the hole grew so large that he had to cover it with straw by day, and at last it was just big enough for a little wooden horse to squeeze through. He waited one more day, for he wanted to have a whole night to escape in, and go a long, long way from Farmer Max before anyone found out that he had disappeared. All day long he worked his very hardest. ‘Tonight I shall be free!’ said the little wooden horse to himself, over and over again. When they came to take him home he was so excited he could not wait to have the cart unharnessed, but set off down the hill to the farm with it clattering behind him. ‘Whoa!’ called the farmer’s man angrily, but he had to run quite fast to catch up with the little wooden horse, who was so eager to get to his stable. But when he got there – oh, poor little wooden horse! Farmer Max himself had found the hole and nailed it up with boards!