Legume

Once upon a time, there lived an old man so poor that he had nothing but a single bean. The old man planted this bean in his garden and visited it every day to see if it was growing.

One day, the old man said to the bean:
"Grow quickly, so I can reach heaven and look for some bread there."

"I will grow twenty feet tonight," replied the bean.

The next morning, the old man got up at dawn and ran to the garden to check on the bean.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "how you've grown!"

"I will grow even more tonight," said the bean.

"Hurry up," said the old man, "I really need to reach the gates of heaven. Maybe I'll find some bread there."

The next day, he went back to his garden, looked at the bean, and cried out:
"Well, soon my poverty will end! You're almost to the sky; you've grown so much tonight. Hurry, grow even higher, and to speed things up, you should grow during the day too."

"No," replied the bean, "I can only grow at night. But in two days, I will reach the sky."

The old man had heard many stories about Saint Peter and was eager to meet him.
"They say," he said, "that this saint is very kind. He holds the keys to heaven, and if I manage to get there, I'll ask him to open the gates and give me some bread."

The next day, the bean grew even taller—so tall that its top was no longer visible.
"I think," said the old man, "that you're tall enough now."

"Not yet," replied the bean, "wait one more day and night."

In the morning, the old man ran to the garden and said:
"Well, now it's time to set off. Can I climb on you, my good bean?"

"Yes," replied the bean, "climb if you wish."

The old man wrapped his arms around the beanstalk, which was as thick as an oak, and began to climb like a sailor scaling a ship's mast.

Finally, he reached the gates of heaven, where he saw a man of very dignified appearance. The old man, not realizing who he was speaking to, asked:
"Are these the gates of heaven, sir?"

"I am not 'sir,'" Saint Peter replied sternly.

"Forgive me," said the old man, "I didn't mean to offend you. What is your name?"

"I am Saint Peter."

"Ah! So you hold the keys to heaven?"

"Yes, I do. Are you planning to enter, by any chance?"

"No, I only came to ask for a piece of bread."

"Is there not enough bread on Earth that you decided to look for it in heaven?"

"No, there is bread, but no one wants to give me even a crumb. People used to be more merciful. I thought I might find some bread here."

"How did you get here?" asked Saint Peter. "Who helped you climb so high?"

"I climbed up the beanstalk I grew in my garden."

"Devil take it," grumbled Saint Peter. "If you're such a miracle worker that you can make a bean grow to heaven, then surely you can find bread for yourself."

"Oh no, I can't. No one gives me any. Please, have mercy and give me some, for God's sake."

"Listen," said Saint Peter, "here's a donkey. If you need anything, stroke its back and say, 'Make écus, make écus.'"

The old man bowed deeply to Saint Peter, mounted the donkey, and climbed back down the beanstalk. All the while, he stroked the donkey's back and repeated, "Make écus, make écus."

When he reached the ground, the old man saw a pile of écus next to the beanstalk. He gathered them and said, rubbing his hands:
"Now I am rich."

But instead of staying home with his wife, he hurried to the tavern, tied up the donkey in the stable, and ordered a lavish dinner.

The tavern keeper told him it was improper for a poor man like him to spend so much money.

"Don't worry," replied the old man, slapping his pocket. "I can afford it because my donkey gives me as much money as I want. All I have to do is stroke its back and say, 'Make écus.'"

While he was eating, the tavern keeper stole his donkey and replaced it with a similar-looking one. In vain, the old man now stroked the donkey and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Make écus, make écus!"—he received no more money.

The old man, who had thought he would be rich for the rest of his life, became as poor as he had been before. At first, he grieved deeply, but then he thought:
"I should go and see if my beanstalk is still in the garden. Maybe I can climb back to the gates of heaven."

Seeing that the top of the beanstalk still disappeared into the sky, he jumped for joy and climbed up the stalk to heaven once more. Standing before Saint Peter, he said:
"Hello, sir Saint Peter."

"Hello, old man. Back again?"

"Yes," he replied, "the donkey you gave me was stolen."

"Because you went to the tavern! If you had kept the donkey at home, no one would have stolen it."

"Have mercy on me, for Christ's sake, give me something else."

But Saint Peter was in a bad mood and didn't want to give him anything, saying the old man spent too much time in taverns.

"Have mercy, Saint Peter," the old man pleaded, "don't refuse! Everyone says you're very merciful and the kindest of all the apostles. Have mercy on me!"

Saint Peter, exasperated by the old man's persistence, said:
"I don't like flattery, but to get rid of you, I'll give you something. Here's a tablecloth; when you want to eat, spread it on the table and say, 'Bread and wine!'—and everything will appear. But don't you dare go back to the tavern."

"What are you saying!" replied the old man, stuffing the tablecloth into his pocket. "How can I promise not to go there!"

When he returned to Earth, the old man told his wife:
"Spread this tablecloth on the table, and you'll have as much food as you want."

They spread the tablecloth and said, "Bread and wine!"—and everything appeared.

The husband and wife were overjoyed to eat their fill.
"Now we live in comfort again," said the wife. "This could last a long time if you manage to keep the tablecloth. But where will you keep it? You'll just blabber and boast again!"

"I'd like to see the clever one who could steal this tablecloth from me!" said the old man.

But he couldn't break his habit of visiting the tavern to listen to people and tell stories. One day, he went there and lingered, and the tavern keeper's wife said to him:
"You'd be better off working and earning your bread instead of hanging around here all day."

"I don't need to work for my bread!" exclaimed the old man. "It's true my donkey was stolen, but I have this tablecloth. All I have to do is say, 'Bread and wine!'—and everything appears."

"I stole his donkey; now I'll steal his tablecloth," thought the tavern keeper. And he managed to steal the tablecloth Saint Peter had given the old man, replacing it with an identical one.

The old man was heartbroken and grieved, but then he thought: "If the beanstalk is still as tall as before, I'll climb back to the gates of heaven. Maybe I've annoyed Saint Peter, but I'll try anyway."

He climbed up to heaven a third time and said:
"Hello, sir Saint Peter."

"Back again?"

"What can I do? I was robbed again."

"Because you went back to the tavern. I warned you!"

"That's true," replied the old man, "but I can't help going there. I've told you before."

"Today, I can't give you anything except this stick."

"And what good is that to me? Unless, with your permission, I use it to hit dogs in the face when I go begging!"

"Do people in your area hit dogs in the face?" asked Saint Peter.

"Of course! When a poor man approaches a farm, all the dogs bark and bare their teeth. Then they hit them on the snout to drive them away."

"I have nothing else for you but this stick. Take it and go!"

"And what am I supposed to do with this stick, sir Saint Peter?"

"Tell it to do its duty."

Returning home, the old man decided to test the stick and said:
"Do your duty!"

At once, a hail of blows rained down on the old man and his wife, leaving them bruised and howling in pain. Finally, the old man shouted, "Stick, stop!"—and the stick calmed down.

The old man thought:
"I'll carry this stick with me everywhere, and if I meet the one who stole my donkey and tablecloth, I'll order the stick to beat them."

He went to the tavern, where the owner and his wife called him a fool and even laughed at him for letting himself be robbed so foolishly twice.

The old man, who had long suspected them, said:
"Stick, do your duty! Beat those who robbed me until they return everything they took!"

The stick leapt from the old man's hands, whirled through the air, and began beating the tavern keeper and his wife so fiercely that they were soon covered in bruises. They begged for mercy and swore to return everything.

"Stick, stop!" shouted the old man. With the tablecloth in his pocket, he left the tavern and mounted his donkey.

Now he had the tablecloth to feed him, the donkey to make money, and the stick to protect them.

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Legume

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