The Farmer and his Children

6.17. De viro agriculturo
Caxton: Of the labourer and of his children
He that laboureth and werketh contynuelly maye not faylle to haue plente of goodes / as it appiereth by this present fable / Of a good man labourer / whiche all his lyf had laboured and wrought / and was ryche / And whan he shold deye / he sayd to his children / My children I muste now deye / And my tresour I haue lefte in my vyne / And after that the good man was dede / his children whiche supposed that his tresour had ben in the vyne / dyd nothyng al day but delued hit / & it bare more frute that dyd before
For who trauaylleth wel / he hath euer brede ynough for to ete / And he that werketh not dyeth for honger
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The Farmer and his Children

022. THE FARMER AND HIS CHILDREN. You will find the fable in English on this page; scroll to see if there are multiple English versions. [more info]

The Husbandman and his Sons

139. THE HUSBANDMAN AND HIS SONS. A certain husbandman lying at the point of death, and being desirous his sons should pursue that innocent entertaining course of agriculture in which himself had been engaged all his life, made use of this expedient to induce them to it. He called them to his bedside, and spoke to this effect: “All the patrimony I have to bequeath to you, sons, is my farm and vineyard, of which I make you joint heirs. But I charge you not to let it go out of your own occupation; for if I have any treasure besides, it lies buried somewhere in the ground, within a foot of the surface.”
This made the sons conclude that he talked of money which he had hid there. So, after their father's death, with unwearied diligence and application, they carefully dug up every inch, both of the farm and vineyard. From which it came to pass, that though they missed the treasure they expected, the ground, by being so well stirred and loosened, produced so plentiful a crop of all that was sowed in it, as proved a real, and that no inconsiderable treasure. [more info]

A Farmer and his Sons

22. A FARMER AND HIS SONS. A farmer at the point of death called to his bedside his two sons and said, “My sons, there is a great treasure lying hidden in one of my vineyards," thus hoping to secure the same attention to his farm from his sons that he had given to it. The sons, after the burial of their father, took their farming tools and upturned every portion of the land, but found no treasure. The vines, however, repaid all they had done with an extraordinary crop. MORAL. The treasury of man is labor. [more info]

The Field of Treasure

02. THE FIELD OF TREASURE. A dying farmer, wishing his sons to know what treasure is to be found in honest work, called them to him and said, "My sons, I am dying. All the treasure that I have is yours, and, if you will look, you will find it hidden in yonder field."
Some time after the father's death, the sons began to look for the treasure. They carefully dug up the field from one end to the other, but no gold could they find.
"Well," said one, "since we have taken so much trouble digging the field, we might as well sow it with corn."
This they did, and in time there sprang up a crop five times richer than any there had been before in that field. Seeing this, the sons remembered their father's words, and understood that at last they had found the hidden treasure, not in gold, but in the fruits of honest labour. [more info]

The Sick Father and his Children

2.13. THE SICK FATHER AND HIS CHILDREN. A Countryman who had lived handsomely in the world upon his honest labour and industry, was desirous his Sons should do so after him; and being now upon his death-bed, "My dear children," says he, "I reckon myself bound to tell you before I depart, that there is a considerable treasure hid in my vineyard; wherefore pray be sure to dig, and search narrowly for it, when I am gone." The Father dies, and the Sons fall immediately to work upon the vineyard. They turned it up over and over, and not one penny of money to be found there; but the profit of the next vintage expounded the riddle.
MORAL. Good counsel is the best legacy a Father can leave to a Child; and it is still the better, when it is so wrapt up, as to beget a curiosity as well as an inclination to follow it. [more info]

The Ploughman and his Sons

05.09: THE PLOUGHMAN AND HIS SONS.
The farmer's patient care and toil
Are oftener wanting than the soil.
A wealthy ploughman drawing near his end,
Call'd in his sons apart from every friend,
And said, 'When of your sire bereft,
The heritage our fathers left
Guard well, nor sell a single field.
A treasure in it is conceal'd:
The place, precisely, I don't know,
But industry will serve to show.
The harvest past, Time's forelock take,
And search with plough, and spade, and rake;
Turn over every inch of sod,
Nor leave unsearch'd a single clod.'
The father died. The sons—and not in vain—
Turn'd o'er the soil, and o'er again;
That year their acres bore
More grain than e'er before.
Though hidden money found they none,
Yet had their father wisely done,
To show by such a measure,
That toil itself is treasure.
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The Farmer and his Sons

48. THE FARMER AND HIS SONS.
An aged Farmer, fearing lest
His land, when he was laid to rest,
Might lie untilled, before he died
Summoned his sons to his bedside
And told them that a Treasure rare
Was buried in a field somewhere.
No sooner was he laid away
Than setting to, without delay
His sons plowed up each field with care,
To find at last the Treasure rare
Was not a chest with guineas filled
But rich crops from the land they tilled. [more info]

The Ploughman and his Sons

082. THE PLOUGHMAN AND HIS SONS.
The farmer's patient care and toil
Are oftener wanting than the soil.
A wealthy ploughman drawing near his end,
Call'd in his sons apart from every friend,
And said, 'When of your sire bereft,
The heritage our fathers left
Guard well, nor sell a single field.
A treasure in it is conceal'd:
The place, precisely, I don't know,
But industry will serve to show.
The harvest past, Time's forelock take,
And search with plough, and spade, and rake;
Turn over every inch of sod,
Nor leave unsearch'd a single clod.'
The father died. The sons—and not in vain—
Turn'd o'er the soil, and o'er again;
That year their acres bore
More grain than e'er before.
Though hidden money found they none,
Yet had their father wisely done,
To show by such a measure,
That toil itself is treasure.
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The Farmer's Treasure

58. THE FARMER'S TREASURE.
"Dig deeply, my Sons, through this field!
There's a Treasure" — he died: unrevealed
The spot where 'twas laid,
They dug as he bade;
And the Treasure was found in the yield.
PRODUCTIVE LABOUR IS THE ONLY SOURCE OF WEALTH
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The Farmer and His Sons

078. THE FARMER AND HIS SONS. A rich old farmer, who felt that he had not many more days to live, called his sons to his bedside.
"My sons," he said, "heed what I have to say to you. Do not on any account part with the estate that has belonged to our family for so many generations. Somewhere on it is hidden a rich treasure. I do not know the exact spot, but it is there, and you will surely find it. Spare no energy and leave no spot unturned in your search."
The father died, and no sooner was he in his grave than the sons set to work digging with all their might, turning up every foot of ground with their spades, and going over the whole farm two or three times.
No hidden gold did they find; but at harvest time when they had settled their accounts and had pocketed a rich profit far greater than that of any of their neighbors, they understood that the treasure their father had told them about was the wealth of a bountiful crop, and that in their industry had they found the treasure.
Industry is itself a treasure. [more info]