Bernik, Bernak!

Once upon a time, a poor man ordered a pair of shoes from a shoemaker and, due to his poverty, couldn’t pay for them for a long time. The shoemaker grew tired of reminding the poor man about the debt, so he said to him:

"Listen, Jean-Tuanel, would you like me to help you repay your debt without spending a single sou?"

"How could I not want that!"

"Well then, let’s agree on this. From this moment on, you must remain silent and answer all questions and inquiries with just two words: 'Bernik, Bernak.' And until I lift this restriction myself, you must stay silent! Got it?"

"Of course, I got it. Just keep repeating the same thing: 'Bernik, Bernak'—that’s all," the poor man nodded happily and went home.

When he arrived, his wife grumbled at him:

"Where have you been, my dear?"

"Bernik!" he answered meekly.

"Where?" she asked, surprised.

"Bernak!"

"Oh, heavens! What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

But she heard nothing else except "Bernik, Bernak." What could she do? She rushed to her neighbor and began to complain:

"Oh, woe is me! Troubles are piling up on my poor head!"

"Did something bad happen?" the neighbor asked curiously.

"Of course! My husband seems to have gone mad."

"That can’t be! He was perfectly sane. You must be mistaken."

"How can I be mistaken if he’s forgotten how to speak like a human? All he does is repeat the same thing: 'Bernik, Bernak!' And you can’t get anything else out of him! Come over and see for yourself that I’m not mistaken."

The neighbor agreed to visit—after all, it was quite the event in the village! She came to Jean-Tuanel and said:

"Good health, neighbor! How are you doing?"

"Bernik!"

"What nonsense are you talking?"

"Bernak!"

The neighbor couldn’t get any other answer from Jean-Tuanel. The women then decided to go to the parish priest. Maybe he could cure the poor man and restore his mind?

Jean-Tuanel’s wife ran to the priest and—thud!—fell at his feet:

"Your Reverence! Your Reverence! Come quickly to our house! My husband has completely lost his mind!"

"Lost his mind? I find that hard to believe," the priest doubted.

"Just think, Your Reverence, can a man be in his right mind if all he says is 'Bernik, Bernak'?"

"Is that so... Well, I know a secret word, and I’ll cure him in no time!" The priest loved to boast. "But it will cost ten francs," he added, for he loved money even more than boasting.

The poor woman sighed heavily but agreed. And so, the priest came to Jean-Tuanel’s house and said:

"God help you, Jean-Tuanel!"

"Bernik!" Jean-Tuanel replied.

"What are you mumbling, my son?"

"Bernak!" Jean-Tuanel replied.

No matter how hard the priest tried to reason with Jean-Tuanel, he heard nothing sensible except those two words. Soon, the entire neighborhood knew that poor Jean-Tuanel had lost his mind.

One day, the priest was walking through the village and met the shoemaker.

"Good day, Your Reverence," the shoemaker bowed to him.

"Hello, hello!"

"What’s new in our parish, Your Reverence?"

"Nothing, my dear, except one thing. You surely know that poor Jean-Tuanel has gone mad?"

"Gone mad?" the shoemaker pretended to be surprised.

"Yes, he’s lost his mind. All he does is repeat: 'Bernik, Bernak.'"

"Ha-ha-ha! Jean-Tuanel is as crazy as you or I, I swear!"

"Don’t talk nonsense, my son!"

"What nonsense? He’s perfectly sane!"

"Why are you arguing with me? I’m willing to bet that Jean-Tuanel has gone mad."

"And I say he hasn’t! Want to bet?"

"Sure... How much shall we bet?"

"Ten francs."

"Too little! Let’s make it fifty," the priest couldn’t resist.

"Deal!"

After making the bet, the priest and the shoemaker went straight to Jean-Tuanel. When they arrived, the shoemaker said:

"Hello, debtor!" And he whispered in his ear: "You can speak now."

"Phew!" Jean-Tuanel sighed with relief. "You took your time coming to me! I think those shoes cost me much more than they were worth."

"Ah, nonsense... Better ask how much they cost the priest."

The priest turned crimson with anger, threw fifty francs on the table, and left without saying goodbye.

And when the neighborhood found out how cleverly the priest had been tricked, they laughed so hard that, they say, it could be heard all the way in Paris.

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Bernik, Bernak!

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