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.
Source: Herford Aesop 48.
Click here for a SLIDESHOW of all the colored Steinhowel images. You can see the sons hard at work in the vineyard!