From Sweden
Every child knows—or ought to know if he does not know—that the Tomt is a queer little Elfin man, old and wizen, and clad in gray clothes and red cap. He lives in the pantry or in the barn. At night he washes the dishes and sweeps the kitchen floor, or threshes the farmer’s corn and looks after his sheep. Oh, the Tomt is a very friendly Elf, but his feelings are easily hurt! And if any one is impolite to him, he runs away, and is never seen again.
Now, it happened, once upon a time, that there was a farmer whose crops and flocks and herds prospered so well that all knew he was aided by a Tomt. In fact he became the richest farmer in his neighbourhood. Although he had few servants, his house was always in order, and his grain nicely threshed. But he never saw the Elf who did all these things for him.
One night he decided to watch and see who worked in his barn. He hid behind a door. By and by he saw, not one Tomt, but a multitude of Tomts come into the barn. Each carried a stalk of rye; but the littlest Tomt of all, not bigger than a thumb, puffed and breathed very hard, although he carried but a straw on his shoulder.
“Why do you puff so hard?” cried the farmer from his hiding-place. “Your burden is not so great!”
“His burden is according to his strength, for he is but one night old,” answered one of the Tomts. “Hereafter you shall have less!”
And with that all the little men vanished, and the grain lay unthreshed on the barn floor.
And from that day all luck disappeared from the farmer’s house, and he was soon reduced to beggary.