There was once a farmer by the name of Kolskegg who drove his cow to the fair, and sold her for seven thalers. On the way home he passed by a pond, and from afar he heard the frogs croaking.

“Aik, aik, aik, aik,” croaked the frog chorus.

“Well!” said Kolskegg to himself. “Those frogs obviously can't count! It is seven thalers that I have received, not eight.”

When he got to the water, he cried to the frogs:

“Hey, stupid animals that you are. Don't you know any better than that! It is seven thalers and not eight.”

The frogs, however, stuck to their croaking. “Aik aik, aik, aik,” they croaked tirelessly.

Kolskegg threw his hat down on the ground. “Come on, then, if you don't believe me, I can count it out to you.”

He took his money out of his pocket and counted out the seven thalers, always reckoning four and twenty groschen to a thaler.

The frogs, however, paid no attention to his reckoning, but still kept on croaking:

“Aik, aik, aik, aik!”

“What!” cried Kolskegg. He was getting quite angry now. “If you know better than I do, count it yourselves!”

And with that he threw all his money into the pond!

He stood still and waited for the frogs to come back to him with the recount. The frogs maintained their opinion and cried continually:

“Aik, aik, aik, aik.”

Kolskegg still waited a long while until evening came on and he was forced to go home. Then he called the frogs all sorts of bad names:

“You water-splashers! You thick-heads! You goggle-eyes! You have great big mouths and you can screech till you hurt my ears, but you can't count up to seven thalers. Do you think I'm going to stand here till you get through!”

With that Kolskegg went away, but the frogs still croaked: “Aik, aik, aik, aik,” after him till he went home sorely vexed.

After a while Kolskegg bought another cow, which he slaughtered, and he made the calculation that if he sold the meat well he might gain as much as the two cows were worth, and have the hide into the bargain.

When he got to town with the meat, a great pack of dogs were gathered together in front of the gate. The dogs were all shapes and sorts, but their leader was a large greyhound, which jumped at Kolskegg's meat, sniffed at it, and barked:

“Wow, wow, wow!”

As there was no stopping him, Kolskegg said to him:

“Yes, yes, I know that you are saying wow, wow, wow, because you want some of the meat, but I should be in a fine state if I were to give it to you.”

The greyhound, however, barked again: wow, wow, wow.

“Will you promise not to devour it all then, and will you go bail for your companions?” asked Kolskegg.

“Wow, wow, wow,” barked the greyhound.

“Well, if you insist on it, I will leave it for you, I know you well, and know whom you serve, but this I tell you, I must have my money in three days or else it will go ill with you, you can just bring it out to me.”

Kolskegg unloaded the meat and turned back again. The dogs fell upon it and loudly barked, wow, , wow, wow.

Kolskegg, who heard them from up the road, said to himself:

“Hark, now they all want some, but the big one is responsible to me for it.”

When three days had passed, Kolskegg clapped his hands together at the thought of getting paid by the big greyhound
“To-night my money will be in my pocket!”

When Kolskegg went into town, he saw no-one about. He looked up and down, but all the dogs kept out of his way.

“This is too much!” he complained. “There really is no trusting any one now.”

At last he lost patience, and went to the butcher and demanded his money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but Kolskegg said:

“Jesting apart, I will have my money. Did not the big greyhound bring you the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago?”

The butcher grew angry at this. He snatched a broomstick and drove Kolskegg out.

“Just you wait,” shouted Kolskegg, shaking his fist at the angry butcher. “There is still some justice in the world!”

Kolskegg now turned his face towards the royal palace and begged for an audience with good King Thrain.

Soon Kolskegg was led before good King Thrain, who sat there with his daughter, the beautiful Hallgerd. King Thrain asked Kolskegg what injury he had suffered.

“Alas,” said Kolskegg, “the frogs and the dogs have taken from me what is mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with the stick!”

And he told the whole story from beginning to end.

When the beautiful Hallgerd heard the whole of his tale, why, she began to laugh heartily.

King Thrain said to Kolskegg, “I cannot give you justice in this, but you shall have my daughter to wife – in her whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done at you, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh. You may thank the wise gods for your good fortune.”

“Oh,” answered Kolskegg, “I do not want her at all. I have a wife already, and she is one too many for me. When I go home, it is just as if I had a wife standing in every corner.”

King Thrain felt insulted at this reply. “You are an ignoramus!”

“Ah, good King Thrain,” replied Kolskegg, “what can you expect from an ox, but beef?”

“Stop!” ordered the king. “You shall have another reward. Be off now, but come back in three days, and then you shall have five hundred counted out in full.”

When Kolskegg went out by the gate, the sentry said:

“You have made the king's daughter laugh, so you will certainly receive a great reward.”

“Yes, that is what I think,” answered Kolskegg. “Five hundred are to be counted out to me.”

“Listen,” said the soldier, “give me some of it. What can you do with all that money?”

“As it is yourself,” said Kolskegg, “you shall have two hundred. Present yourself in three days' time before good King Thrain, and let it be paid to you.”

A rich, well-dressed merchant, who was standing by, overheard the conversation. He ran after the peasant, held him by the coat, and said:

“Oh, wonder of the gods, what a child of fortune you are! I will bank it for you, I will invest it for you in small business ventures, what do you want with all the weight of those great thalers weighing down your trousers?”

“Merchant,” said the Kolskegg, “three hundred can go to you. Give it to me at once in coin; in three days from this, you will be paid for it by good King Thrain.”

The merchant was delighted with the profit, and brought out the sum in bad groschen, three of which were worth two good ones.

After three days had passed, according to the command of good King Thrain, Kolskegg appeared at the royal court.

“Pull his coat off,” said good King Thrain, “and he shall have his five hundred.”

“Ah,” said Kolskegg, “they no longer belong to me, I presented two hundred of them to the sentry, and three hundred the merchant has changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me.”

In the meantime the soldier and the merchant entered and claimed what they had gained from Kolskegg, and they received the blows strictly counted out.

The soldier bore it patiently and knew already how it tasted, but the merchant said sorrowfully:

“Alas, alas, these are indeed heavy thalers.”

Good King Thrain could not help laughing at Kolskegg, and when all his anger was spent, he said:

“As you have already lost your reward before it fell to your lot, I will give you compensation. Go into my treasure chamber and get some money for yourself, as much as you want.”

Kolskegg did not need to be told twice, and stuffed into his big pockets whatever would go in. Afterwards he went to an inn and counted out his money. The merchant crept sadly after him and heard how Kolskegg muttered to himself:

“That rogue of a king has cheated me after all! Why could he not have given me the money himself, and then I should have known what I had. How can I tell now if what I have had the luck to put in my pockets is right or not.”

“Good gods!” said the merchant to himself, “that man is speaking disrespectfully of good King Thrain! I will run and inform, and then I shall get a reward, and he will be punished as well.”

When good King Thrain heard of Kolskegg's words he fell into a passion, and commanded the merchant to go and bring the offender to him. The merchant ran to Kolskegg.

“You are to go at once to good King Thrain. This very minute! Don't even take the time to change your clothes.”

“I know what's right better than that,” answered Kolskegg. “I shall have a new coat made first. Do you think that a man with so much money in his pocket should go there in this ragged old coat?”

The merchant, as he saw that Kolskegg would not stir without another coat, and as he feared that if the king's anger cooled, he himself would lose his reward, and Kolskegg his punishment, said:

“I will – out of pure friendship – lend you a coat for the short time. What people will not do for love!”

Kolskegg was contented with this. He put the merchant's coat on, and went off with him.

At the royal court, good King Thrain reproached Kolskegg because of the evil speaking of which the merchant had informed him.

“Ah,” said Kolskegg, “what a merchant says is always false – no true word ever comes out of his mouth. That rascal there is capable of maintaining that I am wearing his coat!”

“What!” shrieked the merchant. “But you are wearing my coat! Have I not lent it to you out of pure friendship, in order that you might appear before good King Thrain!”

When good King Thrain heard this, he said:

“The merchant has certainly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or Kolskegg.”

Once again he ordered something to be counted out to the merchant in hard thalers.

Kolskegg, however, went home in the good coat, with the good money in his pocket, and said to himself:

“This time I have made it!”

And he skipped into the air and kicked his heels in delight.