Było w Hucie trzech Królów: Jakub, Stacho i Maćko. Strasznie się nie szanowali i zawsze razem chodzili.

Po drodze do karczmy, na nizinie, była studnia szeroka, ale niewysoka. Raz Króle popili sobie dobrze i szli do domu; jeden szedł naprzód, drugi za nim, trzeci na ostatku. Doszedł pierwszy do studni, maca: cembrowina była niska, pomyślał sobie, że to płot, przełazi i buch do wody.

Studnia była płytka i nic mu się nie stało, ale krzyczy:

-Bracie, ratuj!

A drugi:

-Gdzie jesteś?

-Ano tutaj!

-To i ja za tobą!

Już dwóch siedzi i krzyczą obaj:

-Bracie, ratuj!

A trzeci szuka ich i nie może znaleźć.

Jak ich znalazł, myślał też, że lezie za płot i wlazł za nimi. Teraz krzyczą we trzech:

-Ratuj, kto w Boga wierzy!

Słyszał to Dąbski, przeżegnał się i pyta:

-Kto tu?

Oni:

-Króle!

-Ilu?

-Trzech!

Na początku się przeląkł, ale powyciągał ich za łby i poszli wszyscy do karczmy i pili do dnia.

„Literatura Ludowa”, Nr 2-3, rok IV, Warszawa 1960

opowiedział Jan Pietrzak ze wsi Huta koło Łukowa, spisała Jadwiga Biaduń

The Three Króls and the Well

Long ago in Huta Dąbrowa, there lived three men named Król: Jakub, Stacho, and Maćko. Despite arguing constantly and showing little respect for one another, they were nearly inseparable.

If one of them went somewhere, the other two were never far behind.

One evening, after spending several hours at the local inn, the three friends headed home well after dark.

Their path crossed a low, marshy area where an old stone well stood beside the road. The night was black, and the men had enjoyed more drinks than good judgment.

Jakub, walking in front, reached the well first. Feeling the low stone rim in the darkness, he mistook it for a fence.

„Who put a fence here?” he muttered.

Without another thought, he tried to climb over it.

A second later, he disappeared into the well with a splash.

Fortunately, the well was shallow.

Unhurt but embarrassed, he shouted:

„Brother, help!”

A short distance behind him, Stacho heard the cry.

„Where are you?” he called.

„Down here!”

Without asking any further questions, Stacho marched forward.

„If you’re there, then that’s where I’m going too!”

He climbed over the same „fence” and landed beside Jakub.

Now two soaked men were sitting in the well.

Together they shouted:

„Brother, help us!”

Maćko searched in the darkness. Unable to see anything, he followed the voices.

When he found the stone rim, he reached the same conclusion as the others.

„A fence,” he thought.

Moments later, he joined them at the bottom of the well.

Now all three Króls were trapped together.

Their cries echoed through the night:

„Help! Somebody help!”

A local villager named Dąbski heard the shouting. Alarmed, he crossed himself and cautiously approached.

„Who’s down there?” he called.

„Król!” came the answer.

Dąbski froze.

In Polish, król means „king.”

„How many?” he asked nervously.

„Three!”

For a moment, Dąbski thought he had somehow discovered three kings trapped in a well.

Then he recognized the voices.

Laughing with relief, he hauled the drunken men out one by one.

And according to the story, instead of going home, the entire group returned to the inn and continued drinking until sunrise.

Original source: Jadwiga Biaduń recorder “Literatura Ludowa,” nos. 2–3, vol. IV (Warsaw, 1960). Tale narrated by Jan Pietrzak of Huta near Łuków
Translated into English by Karolina Zabielska