THERE was once a little boy called Jan, who lived in a country village. One day he had the good luck to be able to help a fairy out of a ditch, where she had got stuck in the mud. The fairy was very grateful to Jan, and promised him, as a reward for his kindness, that he should have what he most wished for in the world.
Jan was not a very clever boy, and at first he couldn’t think of anything to wish for. His father was a farmer, and Jan had a good home and plenty to eat and drink; his only real trouble was that he was always at the bottom of his class at school. His father scolded and his mother wept, but Jan always stopped at the bottom. He wasn’t so bad at reading and writing, but he simply could not do arithmetic. His sums were always wrong, even the quite easy ones.
So when he had thought for a few minutes and the fairy was beginning to grow impatient, he decided that the best thing for him to wish for was that he might be able to get his sums right. The fairy accordingly gave him a magic slate[90] pencil which possessed the power of being able to do any kind of arithmetic without ever making any mistake. You simply held it in your hand and it would write down the answer on your slate almost before you had time to read over the figures.
Jan was delighted with his present, which he put carefully away in his pencil-box. He could hardly believe that it would do such wonderful things; but, sure enough, he found he could do all his sums without the slightest effort, and that every one of them was right.
Addition, Subtraction, Multiplication—it made nothing of them all. Even those dreadful Long Division sums were no trouble to the magic pencil: it danced nimbly down the slate without stopping even for a second, and the answers were always right. Jan’s schoolmaster was astonished, so were his parents, and delighted too, when by the end of the week Jan had risen to the top of the school.
“What a good teacher I am, after all!” said the schoolmaster to himself. “I have even been able to teach arithmetic to a boy who was so hopelessly stupid over it that he couldn’t add up two and two correctly.”
He was so proud of this that he actually invited the principal people in the neighbourhood to come in and see his wonderful scholar.
[91]And so it happened that the doctor, the lawyer, the priest, the mayor and one or two other important folk from round about arrived at the schoolhouse one fine day, all agog to see the schoolmaster’s wonderful pupil.
 
“Come here, Jan,” said the schoolmaster, “and show these gentlemen what you can do.” And he wrote out a long sum on the blackboard—an addition sum in twenty rows, all bristling with eights and nines. Poor Jan came forward in fear and trembling.
“I’d rather do it on my slate,” he said.
But his schoolmaster wouldn’t hear of that.
[92]So Jan had to stand up in front of the blackboard with a piece of chalk in his hand. Of course he couldn’t do the sum at all. It took him a dreadfully long time and not one figure was right.
“The boy’s nervous,” said the doctor. “You’ve been overtaxing him.”
The lawyer smiled and took a pinch of snuff. “I had an idea that our friend the schoolmaster was rather drawing the long bow,” he whispered to the mayor. The priest came and patted Jan’s head.
“Try again, my child,” he said. “You’ll do better next time.”
But Jan did no better the next time. If anything, he did even worse. The schoolmaster was much annoyed. It made him look so foolish. When the visitors had gone he gave Jan a good caning and sent him home in disgrace.
His father and mother were very disappointed, too, when they heard what had happened.
“I always knew the lad was a dullard,” said his father.
Jan wandered disconsolately out into the sunshine. It’s not nice to be called a dullard, particularly when you’ve been top of your school for a whole month. His mother came after him.
“You shall have a hot apple pasty for your supper,” she said; “it’s in the oven now.”
But even apple pasty couldn’t console Jan.
[93]He went into the lane and sat down near the place where he had seen the fairy. He rather hoped he might see her again. Sure enough, he hadn’t been there five minutes when he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and there she was, perched on a swaying wild-rose spray in the hedge close beside him.
“Oh, come,” she said when Jan had told her his trouble, “we can soon remedy that.” And she gave him a piece of chalk to keep in his pencil-box together with his fairy slate pencil. “Now you will be able to do sums on the blackboard as well as on your slate,” she said.
Jan thanked her and went home feeling quite happy, so that he was able thoroughly to enjoy his supper and his apple pasty.
Things went swimmingly for a while. Jan did more wonderful sums than ever, both on the blackboard and on his slate. The schoolmaster was more careful this time; but he called in first one person and then another to see what Jan could do, and now he was no longer disappointed. Even the lawyer had to acknowledge that the boy was indeed a marvel.
But alas and alas! After a little time Jan became so conceited that he was quite unbearable. He gave himself the most extraordinary airs. He would hardly condescend to speak to the other[94] boys. He even patronised his own father and mother.
“No boy in the whole country is as clever as I,” he said. “The King ought to see what I can do. I must certainly g............