This is a grave story, concerning an enthusiastic young man who took the phrase “knock yourself out” somewhat too literally. A gravedigger’s apprentice, he was faced with an emergency. The undertaker wanted a grave dug by the following morning. It happens.
So, instructed by his boss, off went this gravedigger’s apprentice as the rain fell. It was getting dark and he soon realised how tough was the task ahead as it would normally take well over a day to dig such a grave.
The senior gravedigger brought him lights, as the job would go on well into the night. The apprentice dug and dug and was soon six foot down in a tidy rectangle that was also a perfect four foot wide. At the bottom he hit a rock.
He poked at it, prodded it, pounded it, tried to smash it, but no move. It would need the sledgehammer, and not just any sledgehammer. It would have to be the 16 pounder. Climbing out of the grave-in-progress he took the 16 pounder back with him, dug his two feet into the earth, lifted the sledgehammer and, with all his weight and strength, swung it hard at the stubborn rock.
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It was bright when he looked up, with the perfect rectangle framing a clear, blue sky. He wondered where he was, how he got there. “What the f**k is happening here?” he asked himself, unsurprisingly. “Is this me? Is this my grave? Am I done?”
Next thing the senior gravedigger stuck his head over the edge of the rectangle and shouted down, “What the hell are you doing lying down there? I need them lights for tomorrow.” Rousing himself, the still confused apprentice asked, “What do you mean you need the lights? It’s night time.”
The gravedigger stared down at him. “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the morning.”
The apprentice pulled himself together, realised that he had knocked himself out hours beforehand, but said nothing. He passed the lights to his boss.
Since when he has been none the worse for wear. But he and his friends have retold that tale many times down the years to the never-ending delight of audiences far and wide.
No one was injured in the making of this story.
Rock, from Old English rocc, for “stone as a substance”.
