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Once upon a time there lived a poor man who had more children
than bread to feed them with. However, they were strong and
willing, and soon learned to make themselves of use to their father
and mother, and when they were old enough they went out to
service, and everyone was very glad to get them for servants, for
they worked hard and were always cheerful. Out of all the ten or
eleven, there was only one who gave his parents any trouble, and
this was a big lazy boy whose name was Tiidu. Neither scoldings
nor beatings nor kind words had any effect on him, and the older he
grew the idler he got. He spent his winters crouching close to a
warm stove, and his summers asleep under a shady tree; and if he
was not doing either of these things he was playing tunes on his
flute.
One day he was sitting under a bush playing so sweetly that you
might easily have mistaken the notes for those of a bird, when an
old man passed by. 'What trade do you wish to follow, my son?' he
asked in a friendly voice, stopping as he did so in front of the youth.
'If I were only a rich man, and had no need to work,' replied the
boy, 'I should not follow any. I could not bear to be anybody's
servant, as all my brothers and sisters are.'
The old man laughed as he heard this answer, and said: 'But I do
not exactly see where your riches are to come from if you do not
work for them. Sleeping cats catch no mice. He who wishes to
become rich must use either his hands or his head, and be ready to
toil night and day, or else--'
But here the youth broke in rudely:
'Be silent, old man! I have been told all that a hundred times over;
and it runs off me like water off a duck's back. No one will ever
make a worker out of me.'
'You have one gift,' replied the old man, taking no notice of this
speech, 'and if you would only go about and play the pipes, you
would easily earn, not only your daily bread, but a little money into
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Fairytales 
