Ghost story from Blekinge, Sweden.
Once upon a time there was a peasant who had found out that there would be a treasure buried not far from the local cemetery, strictly guarded by the gas for the man who hid the treasure there.
The farmhand thought out a trick to trick the gas, and when he thought he knew how to do it, he set off one dark night to the treasure hideout. With him he had some small twigs, branches and a twelveshilling. He placed the coin among the twigs and then sat down to wait. When the guest arrived a moment later, the farmer began to root among the rice, and the guest naturally asked what he was doing.
"I'm looking for money," replied the farmer.
He very well found the twelve shilling, and proudly showed it to the guest.
"It was then both small and shit", he grinned. "Come with me, and you'll see what a treasure looks like!"
Gasten dug out his treasure, and then began to bathe in it and play with the coins. The farmer was satisfied, because now he knew where the treasure was. Soon, however, the guest had finished playing, and declared that it was time to go home. He forced the despairing peasant with him to the graveyard and the grave, while he shouted:
"Yes, but I'm not dead!"
"It doesn't matter," the gas roared back. "I'll probably dig up a new grave for you!"
But just then a rooster crowed, and thereby the power of the gas was broken. The gas disappeared into the earth, and the farmhand went back, relieved and happy, and put his hands on the money.