(_Alsatian Folk Tale—Christmas Story—Ethics, teaching honesty_)
The man in the moon was once a merry peasant, who ever so long ago lived quite amicably with his good wife and children, and had a hut with a wooden floor and a roof whose thatch was as thick as any in the village. Always there was plenty of black bread and goat’s milk, and sometimes on Sundays or holidays the family felt rich enough to afford a bit of pork. But one Holy Night that peasant turned dishonest, and then something happened.
“What shall we have for the Christmas feast?” asked his wife, who was fat and jolly. “Shall it be our good rye bread and a fine joint of meat?”
“To be sure,” the merry husband answered, “but that is not enough. There shall be cabbage too.”
At his words the wife opened her mouth so wide that it looked like a big round window in her face.
“Cabbage!” she gasped. “Pray, how can that be, since we have not a leaf in the hut?”
The peasant nodded in a knowing way and answered, “To be sure, there is none there now, but there will be by and by.”
Then he held his tongue as if he thought it unwise to talk too freely to a woman, took a basket, and went out of the door. His wife was much excited. She was sure he had some secret message from the fairies, for it was in that far-away time when strange and marvelous things happened.
Down along the road the peasant hurried, smiling like a village maiden on the way to meet her sweetheart at the fair. Everywhere lights gleamed from the windows, and he laughed at the sight of them, for he knew people were inside, thinking of the feast and the Holy Night.
“Which makes it safe for me,” he murmured. On and on he went, never stopping until he came to a cabbage patch, the largest and finest in the village. They were bigger than his head, those cabbages, and every one of them belonged to the mayor.
“But some shall go into my good wife’s pot,” he laughed as he saw them, and climbing the fence he went into the patch and began to help himself.
Then suddenly along the road came a child on a snow-white horse. He rode as if nothing could halt him, but seeing the man in the patch, he stopped and shouted, “What are you doing?” The peasant looked to right and left and began to stammer, “Just b-b-b-borrowing some of the m-m-m-mayor’s cabbages,” he replied, as he threw a plump one into his basket.