Mette Tight-Fist and Hanne Open-Hand

Mette Tight-fist and Hanne Open-hand

There was once a wealthy widow who lived in a beautiful manor house; her name was Mette, though everyone knew her as Mette Tight-fist on account of her miserliness. Not far from Mette’s grand house was a tiny cottage where a widow and her only daughter lived; the widow was so generous with the little she had, that she was known by everyone as Hanne Open-hand.

One day, an old beggar knocked on the rich widow’s door. It was a bitterly cold day, it had rained all day and the poor man was soaked to the skin. The widow opened the door a crack.

“What?” she asked.

“I was wondering if I could take shelter in one of the outbuildings, My Lady - just until the rain blows over.”

“No,” said Mette Tight-fist.

She wouldn’t dream of having the likes of him on her property. She pointed at her neighbour’s little cottage.

“You can find shelter over there,” she said and slammed the door on him.

The beggar knocked on Hanne Round-hand’s door.

“Oh you poor man,” she said, “you’re soaked to the skin. You must be freezing. Come in and sit by the stove.”

As his clothes were drying, she heated up some beer for him.

“Once you’ve drunk that,” she said, “you can have our bed for the night. It won’t hurt my daughter and me to sleep in the hay now and again.”

The beggar wouldn’t hear of it, but the widow was adamant; he slept in the bed while they settled down in the fresh hay.

In the morning, the beggar was given a good breakfast to send him on his way.

“I can’t thank you enough for the kindness you’ve shown me,” he said. “I might not have any money to pay you for your hospitality but I promise that the first thing you choose to do today, will succeed like never before and will continue to do so throughout the day.”

The beggar took his leave and Hanne was left to ponder over his words; she didn’t rightly understand what he’d said. She stared after him until he was out of sight then went back inside to start her work. She intended to make a pinafore for her little girl, but wasn’t sure that she had enough linen to do the job; she needed to measure what she had. She picked up her yardstick and began to measure it … and measure it … and measure it. She couldn’t stop measuring the linen until the sun went down and the yardstick fell out of her hands. She’d measured so much linen that there were stacks of it inside and outside of the house; she could hardly move for linen. Over the next couple of days, she gathered it up and took it to the market town where she sold the bulk of it, keeping only a little behind for her own use. The linen was of the highest quality and commanded the best price; she became a very wealthy lady. She went home and had the little cottage pulled down and replaced with a much grander building.

In no time at all, the rumour spread from the town and throughout the district, that the old beggar had helped Hanne get a fine new house. Mette Tight-fist soon got to hear of it and immediately cottoned on to the fact that it was the same old man she’d turned away. She’d seen the linen and wanted some for herself. She sent one of her farmhands to ride after the beggar and to bring him back.

“Tell him that there’s a warm welcome waiting for him here, and that I’d dearly like to talk to him,” she said. “He’s not to walk back. Put him on the horse and you can walk by its side.”

It was easy enough to track the beggar down and tempt him back to the manor house. Once he was in through the door, Mette Tight-fist couldn’t apologise enough for her lack of charity.

“Please don’t be cross with me for the way I behaved towards you the other day,” she said. “I don’t normally turn people away, but I’d had such a bad day; the servants had wound me up and put me in such a foul temper. I can only apologise; please let me make amends. Why not stay for a couple of nights? Please say you will or I’ll never be able to forgive myself for the appalling way I treated you.”

“I’d like that,” he said.

She took him into the kitchen where the food and drink was laid out for him; when he’d eaten his fill, she showed him to a warm room where a bed was already made up for him. He lay down on the soft bed and pulled the eiderdown over him and was soon fast asleep.

Mette Tight-fist hardly slept a wink, she regretted saying to him that he could stay over for a couple of nights; she couldn’t wait for him to leave and reward her for the kindness she’d shown him. She needn’t have worried; the man was up early in the morning and wanted to be on his way. She didn’t press him to stay.

“Have breakfast before you go,” she said.

She was desperate to make a good impression.

“I’d better be off,” said the beggar. “I might not have any money to pay you for your hospitality but I promise that the first thing you choose to do today, will succeed like never before and will continue to do so throughout the day.”

When Mette heard her reward, she could hardly contain herself. Her immediate thought was to count her money as soon as he’d gone; she could count gold coins until the sun went down. She showed him to the door and closed it behind him then went back into the house.

“I’m going to be rich,” she thought. “I’ll just go to the loo before I start counting. I wouldn’t want to be caught short.”