Now in the hamlet below there lived a boy who had become known to the
hermit on this manner. On the edge of the hermit's garden there grew
two crab trees, from the fruit of which he made every year a certain
confection, which was very grateful to the sick. One year many of
these crab-apples were stolen, and the sick folk of the hamlet had
very little conserve. So the following year, as the fruit was
ripening, the hermit spoke every day to those who came to his cell,
saying--
"I pray you, good people, to make it known that he who robs these crab
trees, robs not me alone, which is dishonest, but the sick, which is
inhuman."
And yet once more the crab-apples were taken.
The following evening, as the hermit sat on the side of the hill, he
overheard two boys disputing about the theft.
"It must either have been a very big man, or a small boy, to do it,"
said one. "So I say, and I have my reason."
"And what is thy reason, Master Wiseacre?" asked the other.
"The fruit is too high to be plucked except by a very big man," said
the first boy. "And the branches are not strong enough for any but a
child to climb."
"Canst thou think of no other way to rob an apple tree but by standing
a-tip-toe, or climbing up to the apples, when they should come down to
thee?" said the second boy.
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