Atondido Stories
“And do neither of your sons know me? I think these are
your sons, aren’t they?”
The farmer kept on bowing and the two sons looked down,
too embarrassed to speak.
At length the handsome young lord said: “What, don’t you
know your own son, Kubik, whom you used to beat for stealing
when he showed you his betrothal gifts?”
At that the old man looked at him closely and cried out:
“Bless my soul, I believe it is our Kubik! But who could recog-
nize the boy!... And is this his bride? That settles it! Kubik shall
have the farm! Kubik has brought home the most beautiful
bride!”
“Kubik doesn’t need the farm,” the old queen said, “nor will
you need it any longer nor your other sons. You will all come
home with us to our kingdom over which Kubik is now king.
And may God grant you many years to live on in peace and qui-
et.”
The farmer was overjoyed at this arrangement. He embraced
his son, and his son’s bride, and his son’s royal mother-in-law.
He gave his farm to the poorest man in the village and then he
and his sons accompanied Kubik back to his kingdom. There he
lived long in peace and comfort enjoying the thought that good
fortune had come to them all on account of his determination
not to divide the farm.
The poor man who inherited the farm prayed for him and his
sons every night and never tired of telling the story of how Ku-
bik became a king and his brothers courtiers.
So for many years the memory of Kubik was kept green.
Now people are beginning to forget him, so I thought it was time
that I tell his story again.
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