Some storytellers no doubt polished and improved the tales, while others debased them.  In their final adapted form, the folktales may be regarded as an expression of the habits, thoughts, and attitudes toward life of the Estonian peasant.  Unlike the folk song, the Estonian folktale is masculine in tone and treatment, because the traditional storytellers were men.

Once the sage told him death would come after he had sneezed three times, the old farmer could only think of how to keep from sneezing.

Once there was an old farmer who had many children.  Time passed, his sons and daughters were married, and his eldest son expected his father to turn the farm over to him.  The old farmer was still in good health and wanted to continue farming.  He thought of death sometimes and realized that sooner or later the farm would pass on to his son.  So the old farmer went off to see a famous sage.  He wanted to learn from him how many years of life he had left.  The sage took one look at the old farmer and said, “You’ll know death has come when you have sneezed three times.”  Much saddened, the old farmer walked home, and all he could think was how to keep from sneezing.

He had just entered his front yard when he suddenly felt a tickling in his nose and sneezed.  “Oh heavens,” sighed the old farmer, “I’ve only two more sneezes left!”

The next day, he went to the mill to grind some grain.  The dust there got into his nose and he sneezed again.  “I have one last sneeze left, and then my end will come,” sighed the old farmer, and out he ran from the dusty mill.  Soon his order of flour was ready, and the sack had to be picked up.  He went again back inside the mill, threw the sack over his shoulder, and hurried for the door.  By that time, his nose was full of dust, and the old farmer felt that he was going to sneeze.  He tried not to, but could not stop himself.  “A-tishoo!”

“Oh heavens, my end has come,” sighed the old farmer and, dropping his sack of flour, stretched himself out on the ground.  Seeing the sack of flour, the miller’s hogs came running up and began tearing at it.

The old farmer looked at them and sighed.  “You villains,” he thought.  “Were I alive I’d have shown you, but what can a dead man do!”